Chapter 915 - 914: If I Were to Offer the Book of Magnus to My Lord, He Would Surely Be Pleased

The Reflecting Cave was located approximately one kilometer directly beneath Tizca, a vast cavern several kilometers wide. Its stalactite-draped ceiling echoed with the soft chime of gentle bells day and night.

A long, bronze instrument extended from the center of the cavern's roof, resembling a giant telescope.

Its surface was engraved with mystic symbols and traced with silver lines. At its apex, a flawless, three-meter-diameter green crystal sphere was set.

Magnus, clad only in a loincloth, stood as his equerry Amon, anointed his gleaming skin with a mixture of jasmine and sandalwood, an oil of myrrh.

Uthizzar, the Magister Templi of the Athanaean Cult, used a small bone knife to scrape away the excess oil.

Khalophis, Magister Templi of the Pyrae Cult, carried a smoking censer, filling the air with the fragrance of plum blossoms.

Magnus stood directly beneath the green crystal sphere and gazed through it toward the night sky above the Occullum Square.

A heavy, magnetized iron chain, connected to five concentric circles surrounding the white stone slab upon which Magnus stood, hung from the sphere.

The outer four rings bore symbols even the Thousand Sons had not yet deciphered. Ahzek Ahriman, tasted a sour tang whenever he tried to interpret them.

At each point of the concentric circles stood a concave mirror.

One thousand psychic thralls cultivated by the Thousand Sons Legion stood at the intersections of the energy lines, each holding a brilliant psychic crystal. The light spilling from those crystals was focused upon the concave mirrors.

"The time has come." Chief Librarian Hathor Maat approached, bearing a crown woven from vervain leaves, inset with a silver chain.

His armor was covered by a white robe, a fine gold chain at his waist.

Ahriman followed, carrying a ritual dagger of polished obsidian and silver.

Uthizzar withdrew as they reached Magnus.

Ahriman wiped the oil from his hands with silk, then draped a white robe over Magnus.

He then brought a brazier, filling the air with the scent of laurel and alder.

"Your body has been anointed. You are now purified."

Magnus nodded, looking at Hathor.

"The Crimson King requires a crown."

Hathor approached, feeling the waves of heat radiating from Magnus's skin.

Magnus bowed his head, and Hathor placed the vervain crown upon his brow, the silver chain dangling by his ear.

"My son, begin."

Violet flames and chestnut spots flickered in Magnus's eye.

Hathor bowed in response. He took up the heavy tome, its dark leather cover bound with gold thread.

An iron talisman, its surface carved with a howling wolf's head beneath a new moon, clasped the pages together.

It was not part of the original Book of Magnus, but a specific ritual component that would ensure that the incantation was directed at Horus Lupercal.

Hathor's eyes gleamed as he stared at the pages. Magnus's personal remembrancer, Mahavastu Kallimakus had recorded the wisdom of the Thousand Sons during the Great Crusade, knowledge known only to Magnus himself.

'If I were to offer the Book of Magnus to my Lord, He would surely be pleased.'

"Are we united in purpose?" Magnus's voice interrupted Hathor's thoughts.

"If any of us harbor doubts, we will never accomplish this great act of salvation."

"What begins today in a cavern of darkness will end in a future of light."

The nine captains cried out in unison: "We are united."

Magnus looked at the nine captains standing on the innermost concentric circle. "We are not some mindless pawns on a great gameboard. We will make the most determined effort possible to seize control of our own faith."

"Humanity will master the tides; it will no longer drift with the current." He nodded to Kalophis.

Kalophis walked towards the white stone slab. A thousand thralls began chanting in a monotonous, incomprehensible drone. The crystals in their hands blazed with light.

Kalophis, holding the censer, began to walk clockwise, tracing a circle with the incense.

Hathor followed, intoning mystic phrases from the Book of Magnus, words he had not known before and with each word, he felt its power.

Ahriman followed closely, holding the ritual dagger.

Behind him came Uthizzar, carrying an unlit lantern.

Amon walked last, holding the blazing brazier.

After nine circuits around the white stone slab, they stopped. Magnus stepped to the center, lying down upon the slab.

Uthizzar used the brazier's fire to light the lantern.

Kalophis raised the censer, holding it above Magnus's body.

Hathor chanted from the Book of Magnus. Through his aetheric vision, he saw streams of aetheric energy erupt from the crystals, converging around the Thousand Sons.

The mist-like aetheric radiance, mingled with the thralls' life-essence, flowed into the mirrors, finally converging upon Magnus's body.

"Hathor, give me the Moon Wolf."

Hathor took the iron talisman. The new moon gleamed silver in the cavern's light; the wolf's fangs shone like icicles.

He placed the talisman in Magnus's palm, winding the chain around his fingers.

Magnus clenched it. "Horus gave me this to me on Bakkaen. It was once an ornament on his armor, knocked off by a stray round."

"He gave it to me as a memento of that battle."

"He said to me, jokingly, 'It will guide you through the dark.'"

Ahriman's gaze deepened. "Today, you will guide him through the darkness."

"Indeed." Magnus closed his eyes, pushing his state of mind to the tenth level of the Enumeration, focusing entirely upon his bond with his brother.

Splat!

Blood stained his shoulder, seeping through the white robe.

A groan of pain escaped the Primarch.

Phosis T'kar, looked on with concern, "What is happening to our father?"

"Sympathetic injury," Hathor Maat explained.

"The Warmaster is already wounded."

He looked at Ahriman. "Perform your duty."

Ahriman nodded firmly. The ritual dagger in his hands vibrated, then flew, hovering directly above Magnus's heart.

The silver chain of the vervain crown unwound, sliding along the edge of the white slab, intertwining with the magnetized iron chain.

Magnus's eye blazed. "I will wander the Great Ocean. No matter what happens, do not sever my connection to the aether."

The five captains around him and the four behind exchanged worried glances.

"Complete the ritual!" Magnus's voice broke their reverie.

Ahriman obeyed. The ritual dagger descended, plunging into Magnus's chest.

Bright blood splattered. A searing white light surged from the accumulated mirrors, pouring into the dagger's hilt.

Magnus arched his back, crying out.

His single eye snapped open, devoid of iris or pupil, blazing with a thousand colors.

"Horus, my brother, I am coming." Propelled by the thousand psychic servitors, Magnus's soul soared.

Hathor watched the blinding light erupt from Magnus's form.

....

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