Warhammer: The 11th Primarch - The Black Emperor

"Follow me," Malcador said.

Nareth picked up the parchment scroll and followed him out of the observatory.

As they walked along the marble paths within the Imperial Palace, Malcador, in good spirits, asked casually:

"Are you adjusting well to your stay in the Primarch Quarters?"

"Not bad. After all, it was made for us."

Nareth replied. The plaza housed twenty grand structures, far beyond the scale for ordinary humans and even larger than those built for the Astartes.

A glint of memory flickered in Malcador's deep eyes.

"The Emperor once hoped that, before the Great Crusade officially began, you and your brothers could grow here, mastering the skills He wished you to learn."

"But that never happened."

Nareth added silently in his heart. 'Maybe Alpharius was the exception.'

"Strictly speaking, no," Malcador replied. "At least, not for their original purpose."

The regret in his voice lingered briefly before he composed himself and continued:

"Horus stayed here for a short time in his quarters. And now it's you. I imagine your brothers will each stay there in turn, eventually."

As they spoke, the two arrived at a building.

It was an ancient-looking structure. Its bronze spiral plates gleamed faintly under the lights.

Malcador pushed open the door, inviting Nareth inside to view his private collection.

"My most treasured possessions are two ancient paintings found during the Age of Strife, Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa and Vincent van Gogh's Sunflowers."

Nareth's gaze lingered briefly on the legendary masterpieces, which he had never seen in person before. Though still perfectly preserved in a stasis field, they emitted no spiritual light, and so his attention soon drifted elsewhere.

As much as he admired the works of the great masters, he wasn't about to waste this opportunity on something that wasn't an alchemical material.

"I wouldn't take what another holds dear."

Malcador breathed a quiet sigh of relief at Nareth's disinterest in the priceless paintings and led him further into the collection.

Nareth noticed that compared to the Emperor, Malcador's collection leaned more toward art.

That aligned with his impression of Malcador, he had supported the inclusion of Remembrancers in the Crusade fleets to document its grandeur through art, and had also ordered the Imperial Administration to oversee Kasper Ansbach Hawser "Conservatory Project."

After inspecting twelve objects, Nareth finally found one radiating spiritual energy and paused in front of an ancient manuscript.

At a glance, he could tell that the text didn't belong to the Gothic linguistic family; it resembled random gibberish. Yet when the Primarch committed it to memory, he felt an internal logic hidden within, a code, perhaps.

Noticing his interest, Malcador explained:

"That is the Voynich Manuscript. It was written sometime between the 15th and 16th centuries. Its content and author remain unknown. It's named after the bookseller who discovered it in 1912."

"Perhaps only he knew who wrote it, and what it actually says."

Nareth's eyes glinted. He had just witnessed Malcador's formidable powers of divination, possibly the best among humanity.

And yet, Malcador couldn't decipher this manuscript, or at least not completely. That could only mean it was a high-sequence alchemical material.

'Pages... the "White Tower" pathway immediately comes to mind. But it could also be linked to the "Paragon" pathway, or even Sequence 3 of the "Fool" pathway: the "Scholar of Yore".

At the very least, it's a solid backup option. If I don't find anything better, I could go with this. It wouldn't be a waste.'

"Do you want to choose that one?" Malcador asked.

Nareth shook his head slightly.

"If you don't mind, Lord Regent, I'd like to look through everything before I decide."

"Of course. I'm not in a hurry. Take your time."

"I'll introduce each item as we go."

Despite his many pressing responsibilities, Malcador remained patient. He had already promised Nareth a gift and had no intention of rushing him.

Nareth continued his tour of the collection, occasionally pausing, not only before potential alchemical items, but even at ordinary artifacts. Each pause was nearly the same in duration, reflecting equal curiosity.

On the thirty-third pause, Nareth's gaze locked onto a trihedral object.

It appeared to be made of some kind of violet alloy, with each of its three faces displaying a completely different eye.

One was a cold, indifferent, eyelash-less eye that contained countless brilliant stars.

Another was a black mass covered in writhing eyeballs.

The third was a vacant, unfocused gaze that seemed to have lost its focal point entirely.

Nareth immediately connected it with the Hermit path.

The first face resembled the symbolic eye of the Hermit path.

The second, the writhing black mass, evoked the mythic form of the Hermit's associated creature.

And the third reminded him of the Sequence 3: Clairvoyant state when using a beyonder ability.

'I can confirm this item holds a trait of the Hermit Path's Sequence 3: the "Clairvoyant."'

For the first time, Nareth had pinned down the exact sequence of an item among all the collections of Malcador and the Emperor.

"It comes from an extinct interstellar civilization I call Ariadne. Their warriors fought with crimson, blood-red spears."

"I call it the Dice of Prophecy. It's rolled once every three years. When it comes to a stop, the upward face projects a hologram, showing an image and text."

"Between those three-year intervals, if you roll it again, nothing happens, as if it needs time to charge."

"Just like most seers, only catching glimpses of fate passively, the image it shows is vague and beyond control."

Nareth's eyes gleamed. He pressed further:

"It can't be controlled?" 

"No. I've tried every method I know, psychic manipulation, targeted ritual arrays, divination focal tools, but none have made it respond to my will."

"To me, it's a bit of a white elephant. The results are too dependent on chance, less effective than my own divinations."

Nareth gave a thoughtful nod. As a powerful psyker, Malcador had little use for a prophetic tool he couldn't direct.

But Nareth was not so easily discouraged.

'If the Dice truly contains the power of a Sequence 3-level item, then its prophecies are likely free from interference. However, if one possesses a force of absolute authority, one might override that resistance and command it directly. And with my control over the "Kingdom of Disorder," I may be able to do just that. Plus, the third layer provides unique relationship-binding effects. Among all the choices, this is the best. I know its sequence precisely.'

With that thought, Nareth made up his mind. Unless he encountered something significantly more valuable, he would choose this artifact.

He continued browsing the rest of the collection.

After viewing every item, Malcador asked:

"Have you decided?"

"Yes," Nareth said, returning to the trihedron. "I want the Dice of Prophecy."

"Very well."

"How long until it can be used again?"

Malcador paused to calculate.

"Eleven months."

Nareth then picked up the dice from its transparent, glass-like case.

As they prepared to part ways, Malcador reminded the Primarch of an important appointment.

"I've arranged for the Imperium's finest sculptors to meet you tomorrow."

"They'll need to record your likeness, though that alone is an immense mental challenge for them."

"They will sculpt your image, even if it's just part of it. It's necessary. They did the same for Horus."

"Your statue will become the second to stand in the Heroes' Square, that great open plaza."

"I'll cooperate," Nareth replied calmly.

On the way back to his quarters, a thought stirred in Nareth's mind:

'That shadow… that mythical creature… Terra still holds many things of value. I should send someone to investigate.'

.....

If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.

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