Ripjaw

[Erasus]

Hey guys, this is new work I am hoping will develop, now this is the prologue. Let me know what you think, thanks.

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue 

 

 

    The vista was inspiring; an endless view of defiant snow-capped mountains framing the blazing orb of the sun as it belligerently rose into the sky, rays of razor sharp light spearing across the view as if the celestial body was assaulting the landscape in its ascendance.

  

    The boy stood on the ramparts and tried not to shiver against the crisp, chill breeze. His lungs ached with each breath as his blood struggled to warm the air dragged into them.

 

‘That will fade.’

 

  The boy started at the deep bass rumble of the voice that had spoken. The clanking footsteps of a giant thundered from the entrance to the rampart, it took a moment of hesitation before the youth turned to gaze upon the speaker.

 

 Coming towards him was an incarnation of war itself; a warrior without doubt, but so much more. The man, if he could still be called such, stood half again as tall as the men the boy had known all his life, and nearly again as broad, making the warrior seem more akin to the mountains defying the burning sun. He was clad in thick armour, the boy could hear it whine and purr as it moved, as if agitated by the warrior’s movements.  It would be wrong to think of the armour as plain, no, the battle plate was adorned in full panoply of golden artifice and wonder; the boy noticed in particular a golden skull adorned with a halo perched on the bulk behind his shoulders, atop the deep crimson cloak that flowed behind his steps. The battle plate was painted too, a strange notion to the boy but he could tell in that instant that the warrior was proud of the colours he wore; the plate was painted grey, all except the oversized shoulder pads which were daubed with the deep red of dried blood trimmed with the same grey as the rest of armour. The large curving plates covering all but his bare head, which formed a beaten fleshy lump between his massive shoulders.

 

  The face that gazed back spoke of an impossible life of violence; scars both smooth and jagged were laid across his features like an insane puzzle. Each of the grim looking lines was a testament to some brutal act that had befallen the warrior; a moment in time where his seemingly infinite strength had failed him. What monstrosities could he have faced to be wounded so? What foes would have the strength to stand before him let alone scar him? Three metallic studs glinted against the dawn, the boy was wise enough to know they were some form of honour marking; he knew tribes back home that did similar things. Even though his face was a patchwork of scar tissue and riveted with studs, the warrior’s features were inexplicably human. Those features were full of emotional empathy; the boy did not know it but the warrior knew what it was like to stand on these ramparts as a child and face one of his kind. He knew and sympathised with the boy even though he would not change what was to come.  The boy could see the benevolence in those eyes and relaxed muscles he did not even know were tense. As his thoughts began flowing again he suddenly remembered he had been spoken to.

 

Before he could ask the warrior gave a knowing smile, ‘what you are feeling now; the struggle, it will fade.’

 

  The boy fidgeted at the thought he was being examined. Since being taken into the warrior’s recruit pool he had felt a keen sense that his every move was judged and picked apart to be analysed. He knew it was necessary, and reluctantly accepted it for a chance to be here; training in the halls of gods in the hopes of having a chance to do something with his life, to be a part of something bigger than his homeland. Yet this did not make him feel any more comfortable under the gaze of those who would control his fate.

 

  The giant now stood gazing out over the mountains, the snow glistening reds and oranges as the sun continued its steady climb. He didn’t seem fazed by the thin air or cold winds, perfectly comfortable here on the upper viewing platforms of the fortress monastery.

 

  The boy definitely wanted this, to stand here was an honour, to speak to this giant a privilege that many would laugh at as myth. The warrior was no ordinary man, the boy knew this too, for the warrior was one of the legendary Astartes, he was a Space Marine; a son of the Immortal God-Emperor and one of the greatest defenders of the Imperium, the inter-stellar empire that in ancient times past had been forged by the Space Marines. The boy wished for nothing more than to stand amongst their ranks and serve the people of the Imperium.

 

‘Do you know who I am?’

 

The boy looked up at the marine and nodded , ‘yes my Lord. Chapter Master Maxentius, my Lord.’

 

‘And yet I do not know your name.’

 

The boy momentarily forget it as he panicked to speak his name, finally it came, ‘Raesar, my Lord’

 

  The giant nodded and gestured at the space between them, ‘it is tradition; I am to meet every one of the new Aspirants. The conquisitors tell me there are two score this year; a modest amount.’ He smiled, his ice blue eyes now gazing out at the mountains, ‘I have been speaking with the Chief Apothecary. He has told me whose legacy you are to inherit.’

 

  Legacy, a word loaded with the honour of the past yet primed for the glory of the future. Raesar felt his legs tremble, not from the cold but from a new sense of excitement and fear.  His path had already been decided; the legacy he was to bear in order to become a legendary Space Marine. There was something else; the boy noticed the tone of the giant’s voice, the sentiment laid over the identity of the great warrior whose legacy he would inherit. As he gazed up at the giant he saw the warrior mentally drift back over days long lost, of a kinship now broken, shattered by war and death.

 

  The Chapter Master noticed the boy’s stare and smiled, ‘I knew him, the man who has paid the ultimate sacrifice to enable you to be here. Take his gift with care; it is the most important thing you will ever possess. We will arm you with the Imperium’s finest weapons, we will clad you in the toughest armour, we will train you in the many ways to bring righteous fury to the Emperor’s enemies, but remember none of these are what make an Asartes, none of these will make you our Brother. It is this gift that will.’

 

‘Who was he?’

 

  The giant laughed, ‘a greater man than I, though he would never have conceded to such a notion. His name was Valens, Brother Orisk Valens, and he was my greatest friend.’ The warrior looked at the small boy before him, the way he tried to stand as the warrior did even though the chill air pained him greatly, the way the tunic he had been handed barely covered up the childish frame beneath it.  ‘And you are to take his place in this Chapter.’

 

  Raesar frowned, an inward thought, considering the monumental task he was to undertake. He was no longer struggling for himself, the legacy of a hero now weighed upon him as well. Maxentius knew the boy would try to live up to that legacy, but only time would tell if was able. The possibility that this boy might shame Valens’ roll of honour with his own misdeeds saddened Maxentius’ heart. The Chapter was meticulous in its choosing of new recruits, this boy would not be here if he was not capable of greatness, the warrior fervently hoped that he was.

 

‘Brother Valens and I, we have fought for centuries to keep your world safe, to keep a million worlds safe. This is what is expected of you. Are you up to the task, Aspirant Raesar?’

 

Nodding furiously the boy clenched his fists, ‘yes, my Lord!’

 

A smile curled on the giant’s face; maybe the boy would not shame Orisk after all. Raesar suddenly looked pensive.

 

‘Centuries?’

 

  The question was almost whispered into the wind, and Maxentius saw the thoughtfulness on the boys face, ‘yes, centuries, as our forebears have and theirs before them. The Imperium is a vast place with many enemies that would tear it down if they could. You will stand before them and defend the people of the Emperor, one day you will pass your legacy onto another, the fight will continue.’

 

‘Will we ever win?’

 

  He hesitated, for he did not genuinely know the answer, for as long as mankind has existed there had been enemies, maybe there always would be. But times were growing darker as the ages passed into the latter end of the forty-first millennium. Darkness not witnessed for ten thousand years. The Chapter Master one of his Brothers standing by the doorway to the wide platform, another child in tow. He turned back to the boy before him and knelt down, carefully placing a gauntleted hand over the boy’s small shoulder.

 

 ‘That is for you to discover, soon you will stand amongst those who will decide such as thing. Now, I believe you are needed elsewhere, young Aspirant. Your time with me is over. I look forward to seeing what things you will achieve and I look forward to the day I can call you Brother.’

 

  He gestured for the boy to leave. He had not spoken empty words in that moment; in his hearts he knew he did look forward to calling new men Brothers and seeing where they would take the Chapter. He turned and called out to the boy, the child stopping in his tracks and staring back at him.

 

‘Welcome to the Chapter, Aspirant Raesar. Welcome to the Sacred Brethren.’