Walking the Path

"What are we going to do?"

"That's up to Farseer Jabaina."

"Well…what would you do?"

"I don't know Reshanna. I just don't know."

Reshanna frowned. When not even Y'sang, a warlock, knew what to do…the path that had once been clear had become as murky as the deepest recesses of the Warp.

"Help…help us…"

"Please…please!"

The eldar winced. The voices kept assaulting her. Her helmet damaged and long since cast aside, she couldn't evade their gaze either. So she closed her eyes. And reflected.

It had once been simple. A Dark Eldar torture cruiser had been foreseen to attack the Exodite world of Noronha. At Farseer Jabaina's insistence, the Craftworld of Arach-Qin had resolved to intervene. So they took to the stars. They waited. And when the cruiser emerged from the Webway, it was immediately greeted by the vessels of its kindred. A greeting that resulted in it being quickly disabled. It would have been destroyed as well had not Jabaina not sensed something else. Something that she wanted investigated.

So it was boarded. The Dark Eldar were killed. And now, looking over the cruiser's torture hold, Reshanna could see what that 'something' was.

Mon-keigh.

Thousands of mon-keigh. Like beasts gathered up for slaughter.

They visited a human world first, Reshanna reflected, having realized what all her kindred had. They took what they wanted. And…they wanted more. More!

How her Exodite kin could have fit in the hold, Reshanna didn't know. How they could have beared to be kept in such close proximity to mon-keigh, she didn't want to think. And the fate that would have awaited them in Commorragh was beyond imagination.

"Mercy…"

"Please…"

Reshanna walked back into the corridor of the torture cruiser, turning away from the cavern of a hold before her. Only outside did she open her eyes and steady her breathing. Only outside, did Y'sang speak to her again.

"We'll be home soon. Our people are safe."

Reshanna gazed at the warlock, his helmet also taken off. "That's not the problem Y'sang."

"Is there a problem?" the eldar asked. "Our kin are safe. Our twisted cousins are dead. The path has been walked."

Reshanna remained silent. He spoke the truth. Everything they'd set out to do had been done. And yet…

"I understand," the warlock said, placing a hand on the guardian's shoulder. "No-one enjoys seeing needless suffering. No-one enjoys inflicting it. And even the cries of a dumb beast can be found distressing."

"And the beasts themselves?" Reshanna asked. "Can they be saved?"

"Do you want them to be?"

"I want…" She trailed off. "The path isn't clear."

Nothing was clear. If not for the mon-keigh, her squad would have already embarked upon a transport ship to take them back to the Pulsar. But now, a dilemma had been reached, and while Jabaina had the final say, she could imagine the choices that lay before the farseer. Letting the mon-keigh live might create some goodwill with the Imperium. To try and convince them that they had far more pressing concerns than a single craftworld. On the other, eldar of another kind had taken them in the first place, so that might generate ill will. Just killing them was by far the most simple solution (and arguably the most merciful), but while this torture cruiser could be erased from existence, its actions couldn't. As insane as mon-keigh were, they still had enough sense to recognise a Dark Eldar attack, even if no-one was left alive at the site of said attack. And both Arach-Qin and Noronha were close targets for possible retribution.

The guardian wished she still had her helmet. Even outside, the smell of blood, sweat, waste, and tears were reaching her. And while each was its own smell, all of them carried the scent of death and despair.

"I need to go."

Y'sang looked at her.

"This…this isn't my path," Reshanna whispered. "I…"

"I understand," Y'sang said, taking off his own helmet and smiling. "You fought well, Reshanna. Go. We'll be back home soon. Your own path awaits."

The eldar nodded and began walking. Y'sang walked the warrior's path. She was still on the Path of Awakening. Maybe that was why the smell and sound of the mon-keigh disturbed her so much. Or maybe…

Maybe you feel sorry for them.

She tried to throw the thought away. Animals didn't understand mercy. But being animals, what was the point of trying to derive pleasure from suffering in the first place? It-

Wait.

She stopped walking.

Something's near.

The guardian unslung her shuriken catapult. It couldn't have been a coincidence that she stopped here. Not when there was a door right beside her in the otherwise empty corridor. A door that had been damaged by a plasma grenade and wasn't functioning. But, she realized, had been damaged enough that it would fall easily.

The eldar grit her teeth. She knew she shouldn't walk this path alone. And yet…

She kicked the door down. And catapult in hand, she walked in.

The room was sparse, apart from the instruments of torture that hung on the walls. It was clean, apart from the blood splattered on the floor, walls, and even ceiling. It was apart decoration, apart from the tapestries made out of human skin that hung down.

Oh gods…

No living being in this universe deserved this, the eldar thought. Not a mon-keigh at least. They had their own cruelty, but they at least had their own justifications for it, as illogical as they were. This…this was cruelty for its own sake. So looking at the end of the room, seeing the lone mon-keigh suspended via chains, tubes depositing some kind of liquid into his body, she walked over without hesitation.

"More…more…"

Without hesitation, she cut the tubes. Without hesitation, she unshackled the chains. It was only when he fell to the ground, mumbling incoherently, that she did hesitate.

What now?

The guardian stood there. The mon-keigh looked up at her. Reshanna could see from the look in his eyes that there was no saving him.

"More…more…" He lowered his head and started shaking her ankles. The eldar just stood there, unmoving, but not unmoved.

"More!"

And then he leapt at her, grabbing her waist. Reshanna recoiled.

"More! I need more! More!"

The eldar stared. Was he-

"More!"

"It's pain," she whispered, speaking and understanding the mon-keigh's language.

"More! More pain! More experience! Let me taste it! Let me feel it!"

"You don't want that."

"I want it! More!"

The eldar stood there. Madness lay in every mon-keigh, but in this one, it had bubbled out to the surface. The only way he'd been able to cope with the torture was to embrace it. And now, removed from that torture, he was experiencing torture of a different kind.

Reshanna?

So it was a relief when she heard Y'sang's voice in her mind. She turned around, accepting the telepathic link. Below, the mon-keigh grabbed at her ankles like an infant gyrinx.

I'm here.

And still on the ship I see.

Not for long. I promise you.

Silence filled the link. Reshanna remained in it. It helped her cope with the cries of "more," cries of pain, and just plain crying.

Well, we're leaving. We're headed home.

And the mon-keigh?

We're destroying the ship, them along with it.

Is that…necessary?

Jabaina has deemed it to be the best path. The ship will disappear. Our worlds will be safe. And the mon-keigh will be put out of their misery.

…I understand.

Reshanna genuinely did. It wasn't a lie, so Y'sang didn't pick up on any falsehood. Presumably that was why he cut off the link. Leaving her alone in the dark. With the madman still clawing away at her.

"More…" he whispered.

"No," Reshanna said. "Not more. No more."

"You…eldar? Want more. Experience. Want more…everything…more…"

The eldar closed her eyes. Those words had been spoken before. Ten-thousand years ago. Spoken, and never taken back. Not until those words became screams that tore the heart out of an empire.

"Want more…"

"You don't," she whispered, clutching her spirit stone. "You really don't."

Mon-keigh were lucky, she reflected. They experienced so little in their lifespans. They didn't know what it was like to always want more, and to have to deny it.

"More!"

The eldar didn't answer this time.

She began walking.

Out of the darkness.

A/N

Huh. If I'm not writing for elves of Warhammer Fantasy (see Beneath Honour's Wing - shameless plug), I'm writing for the elves of its 40K counterpart. And once again, humans get the short end of the stick. Maybe there's a pattern here...

Well, leaving that to the Inquisition, the idea for this has its origins in another challenge. To base a story on/reflect the quote "is life not a hundred times too short for us to stifle ourselves?" I settled on making it a 40K one, of a eldar/human philosophical discussion, how eldar can experience more than humans due to their longer lifespan, yet due to keeping themselves in check because of Slaanesh, end up experiencing less (insert more philosophical ramblings here). However, going through the story, I realized that something was off in its very conception. Eldar are eldar. For an eldar to talk philosophy with a human would be like a human talking about philosophy with a monkey. Something beneath them, and not worth their time. So, while I reflected the quote a bit, I ended up changing the story to reflect other eldar aspects. Probably over-idealized, hence why I knew I couldn't use eldar from Biel-tan for instance, but, well, that's the way the cookie crumbled.

Now if you excuse me, I have to go. The Inquisition has come back with their results and branded me a xeno-sympathiser. Eeep.