Celestine - Andy Clark

by Warhammer 40K

  Celestine closed her eyes and felt for the Emperor’s light. After a moment she realised that all she could feel was the warm sunlight as it caressed her skin. The sensation was good, pure somehow, but different to the ephemeral candle flame that had guided her path thus far. Celestine opened her eyes, surprised and disquieted.

  ‘And yet, what if they are one and the same?’ she asked herself. Realising that she had no other form of guidance for the moment, and unwilling to simply guess at a random direction in which to travel, Celestine resolved that she would follow the light of the sun. A glance at the canopy told her that, for the moment, taking to the air was not an option. Instead, Celestine folded her wings close in to her back and, taking a moment to fix the position of the sun in the sky, she strode off towards it with a look of determination upon her face.

  Perhaps an hour passed as Celestine marched through the idyllic woodland. There was underbrush enough to add to the forest’s beauty, but not so much that it impeded Celestine’s progress. The trees grew tall and proud. She found that the longer she looked at their gnarled bark and spreading boughs, the more familiar they seemed.

  ‘Where is this place?’ Celestine asked herself, yet no answer was forthcoming. Whatever memories moved in the deeper currents of her mind, they refused to surface.

  She slowly became aware of another sound upon the air, a roar both breathy and distant that set her to scanning for threats again. Passing through a thicket of spry saplings, Celestine heard the sound a little clearer and felt an involuntary smile quirk the corners of her mouth.

  ‘The ocean,’ she breathed. ‘That is the sound of waves breaking upon a shore.’

  Celestine felt a simple happiness in her heart, a sense of peacefulness that she could not quite account for. She wondered why this was so familiar.

  ‘Faith, Duty, if you can hear me I am approaching a stretch of coastline,’ voxed Celestine. ‘Sisters, make for the sound of the waves or, if you can get airborne, move towards the coast and look for me there. I am proceeding and will take the lie of the land.’

  She pressed on, out from under the eaves of the forest. Scattered fruit trees formed a natural orchard around her, their boughs heavy with ripe crimson orbs, but they were no longer dense enough to be called woodland. Celestine ignored them and marched on across the loamy soil under a clear blue sky. Tatters of white cloud rode the winds high above, and winged shapes wheeled, causing her to raise her blade again. Yet Celestine soon identified the creatures as nothing more than some species of coastal avian, and she dismissed them as irrelevant.

  Ahead, the land rose into a steep bluff with tough grass tufts clinging to its leeward side. Celestine knew, though she didn’t know how, that this ridge was the trailing edge of a huge sand dune. Beyond its crest, the soughing of the waves promised a beautiful ocean view.

  Celestine felt happiness growing within her. She knew a wash of contentment that she could do nothing to dispel, a sense of familiarity that she could neither place, nor shake off. It was maddening and pleasant in equal measure.

  As she dug her armoured feet into the slope of the dune and began to climb, Celestine glanced up towards the crest.

  She froze.

  Up there, jarring and incongruous in this beautiful but empty place, she saw the silhouette of a human head and shoulders just visible above the ridgeline, looking away from her towards the ocean. They were small, rendered in silhouette by the sun, which spilled over the dune and limned the figure’s dark hair with gold.

  She knew them.

  She began to climb again, suddenly as nervous and eager as one who has long been away from the love of their life, and now hurries impatiently towards reunion. Celestine’s heart thumped in a chest tightened by nerves and anticipation. Thoughts of potential dangers, of her lost sisters or her current location, were driven from her mind by the singular thought that she would at last…

  Celestine stopped herself, halfway up the dune. She would at last what? Be reunited with a child that she had met only hours or days ago? She would at last catch up to this silent figure who had come and gone like a mirage, remaining just out of reach?

  Did she know her, truly? Her caution returned, and one hand tightened on the hilt of her blade. What, if anything, did she know in this place, except that nothing was what it first seemed?

  The child had not moved. She had not responded to the whine of Celestine’s armour servos or the crunch and skitter of sandy soil shifting beneath power-armoured boots, though she must surely have heard both. She merely sat, still as stone but for the slight stirring of her hair in the sea breeze.

  Cautious now, Celestine altered the angle of her climb, circling out around to the right of the child as she ascended towards the top of the dune. Her blade glinted in the sunlight, its killing edge keen, the silver catching the light in tight ripples. She imagined what she might see as she finally set eyes on the child’s face, dreading some ghastly apparition sent to lure her in then set upon her, the poisoned barb at the heart of some paradisiacal death trap.

  ‘Just a child,’ she said aloud as she finally set eyes on the girl. She was as Celestine remembered, a slight little thing with dark hair and dark eyes who looked up at her curiously. The girl scrunched her face up in a squint, shielding her eyes with one hand.

  ‘Hello,’ she said.

  ‘Hello,’ replied Celestine, uncertain what else to do.

  The two of them remained that way for several heartbeats. Celestine saw their shadows form a frozen tableau down the dune’s flank, the tall warrior with a blade in hand and wings folded tight to her back, the wisp of a child staring up with innocent curiosity.

  Celestine realised with a start that she still had her sword raised. Hurriedly, she sheathed it.

  Of the two of them here, it was she that must appear the monster.

  ‘Who are you?’ asked Celestine, trying to keep her voice gentle. The girl looked in no danger of startling or fleeing, but Celestine had little enough experience with anyone that wasn’t a warrior or a foe. Little girls were wholly unfamiliar territory. She would take no chances.

  ‘I’m Hope,’ replied the girl.

  Celestine blinked as the name sparked something inside her, a jolt that ran through her whole body.

  ‘What are you doing here, Hope?’ asked Celestine.

  ‘I’m watching the waves,’ said Hope. ‘Would you like to join me?’ she added shyly after a moment’s pause.

  ‘I… thank you, Hope, I shall,’ replied Celestine, unsure how else to respond. As gently as one could in full power armour, she settled herself near the girl. Celestine left a clear three feet of sand and air between them. She told herself it was to avoid making Hope nervous, but she wondered if it would be truer to say it was for her own benefit.

  ‘The view is beautiful,’ said Celestine after the silence had stretched long between them. She found she meant it. The dune’s windward slope swept away before her, golden sand dotted for the first dozen yards with tufts of grass. Further away, the sun-warmed sands of the beach sloped down to the tide line, where they became slick, several shades darker where the waters had retreated. The ocean itself was a magnificent immensity beyond, its waves questing in and out amidst dancing sprays of foam near the shoreline. They rippled slow and stately atop the depths further out, crowned with gold by the sun’s rays. Eventually, the vista faded until sea and sky became one upon a distant and hazy horizon.

  Celestine waited for the child to speak, but Hope had returned to staring at the view, her short legs stretched out in front of her, a stalk of grass idly twisting in her fingers.

  ‘Hope, where is this place?’ asked Celestine.

  ‘The beach beyond the woods,’ said the child, sounding distracted.

  ‘That much I can see,’ said Celestine gently. ‘But where is this? Are we… is this a world in real space? Or somewhere else?’

  H
ope didn’t reply, just kept twisting her grass. Celestine decided to try something else.

  ‘I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?’ she asked. ‘You were there at the bottom of the cliff, then again at the top of the ascent. And I’m sure I’ve seen you again since, running ahead of me through the shadows. How did you come to be here, Hope? How did you survive?’

  Hope glanced at her.

  ‘That lady wasn’t nice,’ she said. ‘She hurt my arm.’

  ‘I know, Hope, and I’m sorry that she did that, but she was not herself,’ said Celestine, trying to sound as kindly as she could. ‘Have you seen her? Or the other woman that I was with?’

  Hope shook her head. She frowned with childlike severity at the grass that was twisting apart in her fingers.

  Celestine sighed. She returned her gaze to the horizon.

  ‘Why don’t you know where you are?’ asked Hope, after a pause. ‘Are you lost?’

  ‘Yes, Hope, I think I am,’ said Celestine. ‘I was following a light, and it led me here, but now I do not know where here is, and I do not know what to do next.’

  Hope’s frown deepened, and Celestine had the distinct impression that the child was giving her words serious consideration.

  ‘What if here is where you were going?’ she asked. ‘What if you’ve arrived?’

  Celestine laughed ruefully.

  ‘It’s a lovely notion, child, but I have a duty. There is a great task I must complete before I can rest.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Hope. Then, after a pause, she asked: ‘What is it? Your task?’

  ‘You helped to remind me of it, Hope. Do you not recall?’

  The girl shook her head.

  ‘Do you know what monsters are, Hope?’ asked Celestine gently. Hope nodded quickly. ‘Well, there are monsters out there, in the galaxy. They come from somewhere else, somewhere wicked, and it is my job to send them back.’

  ‘Are there lots of monsters?’ asked Hope in a small voice.

  ‘There are, but you must not fear. I am equal to my duty,’ Celestine said, her voice hardening with determination on the last few words.

  ‘Do you have to fight them alone?’ asked Hope.

  ‘No, I have my sisters, wherever they have gone,’ said Celestine. ‘And there are others. So many others, all sworn to fight the monsters too.’

  Hope frowned. ‘But… if there are so many people who can fight the monsters, why is it your duty? Couldn’t you stop, and let them do it instead? You could stay here. It’s nice here.’

  Celestine paused, a reply half-formed in her open mouth. She was rocked by the sudden certainty that she could do what Hope suggested. She realised that she could divest herself of her armour, lay down her blade to be buried by the shifting sands, and simply stop fighting.

  Yet as she looked at the little girl she felt a sudden stab of recognition, a stiletto of emotion that slid between her ribs.

  ‘Who are you?’ asked Celestine again. Hope merely looked confused, her expression turning down at the edges as the sharpness of Celestine’s tone threatened to upset her.

  ‘I’m sorry, child,’ said Celestine. ‘I just… I am not sure if you can understand this, but when I look at you I feel such a keen sense of familiarity. It is as though, were I to do as you suggested, to remain here with you, I would come to know at last who you are, and what you are to me.’

  Hope blinked, and Celestine realised the girl was fighting tears.

  ‘Stay?’ Hope asked suddenly. ‘Stay this time?’ Celestine felt her breath catch at the aching need she felt to sweep the child up in her arms and comfort her. There was such aching sorrow in Hope’s small voice, so much more sorrow than any little girl should ever have to feel.

  ‘Oh, child,’ she breathed, and realised that she was fighting back tears of her own. ‘What do you mean, this time?’

  ‘Don’t you know?’ asked Hope, and now the tears did come, squeezing from the corners of her eyes and tracking down her cheeks. Her narrow chest hitched, and a sob escaped her.

  ‘Hope, I…’

  ‘You always leave!’ shouted the little girl, suddenly furious. She pushed herself to her feet and ran off down the dune, puffs of sand kicking up behind her heels. The shredded twist of grass drifted to the ground in her wake.

  ‘Hope!’ called Celestine, starting to her feet. The girl didn’t reply, dashing pell-mell down the slope of the dune and onto the flatter sands at its base. She was running towards the tideline, and suddenly the roar of the waves was loud in Celestine’s ears as they rolled hungrily in. What had seemed peaceful and picturesque now became greedy, the waves a rapacious presence that boiled forwards to grasp at the sand. She felt a surge of fear for Hope, who was sobbing disconsolately as she ran towards the waters.

  Celestine launched herself into the air, sand swirling away from her wingbeats. She arced up into a sky that darkened with racing storm clouds and arrowed down over the beach. A few swift sweeps of her wings carried her over Hope and saw her thump down in the wet sand before the girl, Celestine placing herself protectively between child and ocean.

  Hope kept running and thumped into Celestine with what little force she had, throwing her arms around the Saint’s waist. Celestine heard the gravel-throated roar of incoming waves and dropped into a crouch, encircling Hope with arms and wings both. The cold, dark waters hit Celestine from behind and rocked her forwards. Icy foam boiled around her legs and Hope screamed amidst her sobs as the water drenched her. The waters all but engulfed Celestine for a moment, and she held tight to the tiny life within her arms.

  Then the waves receded, and Celestine rose with Hope cradled in her arms. She strode back up the beach, a sad certainty dawning within her. Hope clung to her, wet and cold, her tears slowly subsiding as she pressed her cheek to the hard surface of Celestine’s breastplate. As they walked back up the beach the sun split the clouds again. Columns of golden light swept the beach like searchlights, widening as the clouds tattered away into nothingness.

  Celestine stopped at the foot of the dune and knelt, placing Hope gently on the ground. The girl’s shift was soaked, but the warm sun was already making inroads into drying it. The tears that tracked her face would take longer to dispel, thought Celestine.

  ‘Stay,’ said Hope again in a tiny, plaintive voice, but Celestine shook her head.

  ‘I am so sorry, child, but I cannot,’ she said. ‘That was not the deal. I know now that if I were to stay I would know you, and you and I would have the peace of that knowing. We would dwell in this beautiful place and it would feel like all the reward that I could possibly expect for the lives beyond count that I have given. But Hope, if I stayed, it would destroy us both as surely as if I had let you be swept away by the ocean waves. To surrender to temptation would let the monsters in. Do not ask me how I know this, child, for I cannot tell you. I just know.’

  ‘But I’m lonely,’ said Hope. ‘And you never stay. It’s never done.’

  ‘One day, Hope,’ said Celestine. ‘Have faith, my girl, one day it will be.’

  ‘Promise?’ asked Hope, and the desperate trust Celestine heard in the girl’s voice made her soul hurt.

  ‘I promise, Hope. No matter what I must do, what I must give, I will not fail in my duty. And one day, when I come to you here, I will stay. We will know each other, and we will understand, and that will be enough.’

  And then she stood and turned away, and told herself as she did so that she didn’t feel the suffocating pain of her heart breaking within her breast. Traitorous thoughts whirled through her mind as she took first one pace away, and then another, and another, as she tried not to hear the little girl that she left crying in her wake.

  Had she once been hers, Celestine wondered. Or was she in some way her? Her innocence? Her chance at life? Celestine didn’t know, but her blade felt suddenly heavier than it ever had, the cling of her armour clau
strophobic and hateful, and the little girl’s soft sobbing made her want to hurl it all aside, to gather her up and hold her close until her crying stopped.

  ‘Emperor, I swear to You that neither daemon nor heretic shall stand between me and that which You have promised, and that I will fight for You until the fires of war are quenched in the blood of Your butchered foes,’ said Celestine as she walked towards the ocean. Her voice was razor-sharp steel, tempered by pain and fury. ‘But though I am Your faithful servant, and though I have only love for You in my heart, I say this now. You keep her safe until my task is done. You fill her days with simple happiness and You keep her mind from thoughts of loneliness or loss. The Emperor protects, that is what I have always told those who look to me for guidance. So, protect her, and honour her, or I swear that the last heart I plunge my blade into will be my own, as many times as I must, for I shall do no further duty for You.’

  Celestine waited for some bolt of divine wrath to strike her down for her blasphemous words, but none came. Instead she walked on towards the hungry waves and did not once look back.

  As she reached the tide line, the waters shuddered and swept aside. They parted for her and where her armoured feet fell Celestine found the sea bed hard and firm, cracked dry earth where there should have been wet sand.

  With every pace she drove the ocean back. With every moment the golden light of the sun turned a bloodier hue, until it became sullen firelight dancing amidst drifting clouds of thick black smoke. The ground shuddered as though to the beat of some vast heart, and as it shook, so it heaved and cracked. The waters of the ocean roared down into those fissures, vanishing amidst gouts of steam even as coils of rusted wire grew from the desiccated soil like razor-weed. Celestine felt her heart harden with every step she took through what was rapidly becoming an arid and broken no-man’s-land, where bloodied corpses burned in ragged shell holes and the sky was lost amidst the fume of battle.

  Still, she did not dare look back.

  ‘Halt. I sense her,’ came a voice, crackling from Celestine’s gorget vox.