Aaron Dembski-Bowden - The First Heretic

‘Is that so wrong?’ he asked his closest advisors. ‘Is it so wrong of me to walk the ways of a visionary, a seeker, rather than a simple soldier? What is it within my father that renders him so thirsty for blood? Why is destruction the answer to every question he is asked?’

Kor Phaeron clutched Lorgar’s shoulder tighter. ‘Because, my son, he is gravely flawed. He is an imperfect god.’

The primarch met his foster father’s eyes in the chamber’s gloom, the glance sharp and cold. ‘Do not say what you are about to say.’

‘Lorgar...’ Kor Phaeron tried, but the primarch’s glare silenced him. His eyes were sharp with a plea, not with fury.

‘Do not say it,’ whispered Lorgar. ‘Do not say we tore our home world apart all those years ago in the name of false worship. I cannot live with that. It is one thing for the Emperor to spit on all we have achieved as a Legion, but this is different. Can you piss upon the Covenant and the peaceful Colchis we created after six years of civil war? Will you name my father a false god?’

‘Speak the truth,’ Erebus cut in, ‘even if your voice shakes.’

Lorgar lowered his ash-streaked face into his filthy hands. In that moment, Erebus and Kor Phaeron locked eyes. The latter nodded to the former, and the First Captain spoke again.

‘You know it is true, Lorgar. I would never lie to you. This is something we must all face. We must atone for this sin.’

‘The Chaplains stand with you, sire.’ Erebus added his voice to Kor Phaeron’s. ‘The heart of every warrior-priest in the Legion beats in rhythm with yours. We stand ready to act upon your word.’

Lorgar shrugged off their platitudes, as well as his foster father’s reassuring hand. The movement split the healing scabs on his shoulder blades, birthing trickle-rivers of dark blood weeping down his golden back.

‘You are calling my entire life a lie.’

‘I am saying we were wrong, my son. That’s all.’ Kor Phaeron dipped his gnarled hand into the bowl of ash by Lorgar’s side. Monarchia’s dust spilled through his curled fingers, stinking of charred rock and failure. ‘We prayed to the wrong god for the right reasons, and Monarchia paid the price for our mistake. But it is never too late to atone. We purged our home world of the Old Faith, and now you fear as we all fear: Colchis prospered under the old ways and its legends, until we ravaged it in the name of a lie.’

‘This is heresy,’ Lorgar trembled, barely containing his emotion.

‘It is atonement, my son.’ Kor Phaeron shook his head. ‘We’ve been wrong for so long. We must purge the root of our errors. The source lies on Colchis.’

‘Enough.’ The ash on Lorgar’s cheeks was split by trailing tears. ‘Both of you... Leave me.’

Erebus rose to obey, but Kor Phaeron rested his hand on the primarch’s shoulder once more. ‘I am disappointed in you, boy. To be so proud that you cannot face up to failure and make amends.’

Lorgar clenched his perfect teeth, saliva glistening on his lips. ‘You want to return to Colchis, the cradle of our Legion, and apologise for two million deaths, six years of war, and devoting an entire world to worshipping an unworthy god for almost a century?’

‘Yes,’ Kor Phaeron said, ‘because it is the mark of greatness to deal with one’s mistakes. We will reforge Colchis, as well as every world we have conquered since we first left our home world to join the Great Crusade.’

‘And every world we take in the future,’ said Erebus, ‘must follow a new faith, rather than worship the Emperor.’

‘There is no new faith! You both preach madness. Do you think my Legion kneeling in the dust shames me? Monachia was nothing compared to the rape of my own home world over a lie?’

‘The truth cares nothing for what we wish, sire,’ said Erebus. ‘The truth simply is.’

‘You studied the Old Faith,’ Kor Phaeron said. ‘You believed it yourself as a young seeker, before your visions of the Emperor’s arrival. You know the way to uncover whether it was a false faith, or a pure one.’

Lorgar wiped drying silver tears from his face. ‘You want us to chase a myth across the stars.’ His eyes flicked between them both, bright and focused. ‘Let us speak plainly now, more than ever before. You want us to embark on a fool’s odyssey through the galaxy, in search of the very gods we’ve spent decades denying.’

Lorgar laughed, the sound rich with disgust. ‘I am right, aren’t I? You want us to undertake the Pilgrimage.’

‘We are nothing without faith, sire,’ said Erebus.

‘Humanity,’ Kor Phaeron pressed his palms together in prayer, ‘must have faith. Nothing unites mankind the way religion inspires unity. No conflict rages as fiercely as a holy war. No warrior kills with the conviction of a crusader. Nothing in life breeds bonds and ambitions greater than the ties and dreams forged by faith. Religion brings hope, unification, law and purpose. The foundations of civilisation itself. Faith is nothing less than the pillar of a sentient species, raising it above the beast, the automaton, and the alien.’

Erebus drew his gladius in a smooth motion, reversing the grip and offering the sword to Lorgar.

‘Sire, if you have truly abandoned your beliefs, then take this blade and end my life now. If you believe there is no truth in the old ways – if you believe mankind will prosper without faith, then carve the two hearts from my chest. I have no wish to live if every principle guiding our Legion lies broken at your feet.’

Lorgar took the blade in a trembling hand. Turning it this way and that, he stared at his candlelit reflection – a visage of gold in the silver steel.

‘Erebus,’ he said. ‘My wisest, noblest son. My faith is wounded, but my beliefs remain. Rise from your knees. All is well.’

The Chaplain obeyed, stoic as ever, resuming his position across from Lorgar.

‘Mankind needs faith,’ said the primarch. ‘But faith must be true, or it will lead to devastation – as our brothers in the Thirteenth Legion have so viciously proved. And... and as we learned ourselves in six years of unconscionable war before the Emperor came to Colchis. It is time we learned from our mistakes. It is time I learned from my mistakes.’

‘There is one other to whom you can turn,’ Kor Phaeron pressed on, supporting his primarch’s rising resolution, ‘a brother with whom you debated the nature of the universe. You have often spoken of those nights – discussing philosophy and faith in the Emperor’s own palace. You know of whom I speak.’

Erebus nodded at the first captain’s words. ‘He may hold the key to proof, sire. If the Old Faith has a core of fact at its heart, he may know where to begin the journey.’

‘Magnus,’ Lorgar said the name in contemplative softness. It made sense. His brother, whose psychic strength and fierce intelligence put all other minds to shame. They’d spoken often in the Hall of Leng – that cold, regal chamber on distant Terra – arguing with smiles and scrolls over the nature of the universe.

‘It will be done. I will meet with Magnus.’

Kor Phaeron smiled at last. Erebus bowed his head, as Lorgar continued.

‘And if our suspicions prove correct, we will undertake the Pilgrimage. We must know if our Colchisian forefathers spoke the truth when they founded their faith. But we must also move with caution. The Emperor’s hounds prowl around our pack, and as wise as my father is, he has shown his blindness to the underlying truths of the universe.’

Kor Phaeron now bowed as well, mirroring Erebus. ‘Lorgar. My son. This will be our atonement. We can enlighten humanity with this truth, and wash away the stains of the past. In truth... I have feared this moment for some time.’