10~Returning the Fallen
Anton sighed, removing his hoof from the neck of the dead female. He stole a look at the other two, who still slept next to her. He headed back inside his pillbox, looking through a few of the spare items that he had lying around the interior. Finally, he found what he was looking for: a faded and somewhat torn cloth he had found at the old fortress. It was an old set of curtains, if where he found it was any indication. However, it would now serve a new purpose; a shroud.
He grabbed the corpse with his aura, lifting it off the ground so that only her hooves scraped against the ground. He placed her on the laid-out shroud, shifting her body around a little bit. He had never handled something like this, even for humans; to say it was difficult was like saying the souls of mutants were damned.
That thought made him pause just as he had finished placing Buttercup's legs inside her shroud. Surely, his soul was damned now, after what he was doing. The priests back home had long preached about how the Xenos were tainted, and how aiding them was akin to service to the dark gods. Not only had he aided them, but he was also now caring for one of their dead.
He pulled free his combat knife, studying the blade as it reflected the morning light. He could just... end them now. The bigger one was wounded, and both of them were asleep. It wouldn't be too complicated to drive his knife into the backs of their skulls. Clean and simple... so why didn't he?
He growled to himself, before sliding the knife back into its sheath. He had already had this same battle several times, all over the same points and over the same conclusions. He knew this, as well as knew exactly what conclusion he would come to in regards to what he was debating.
Turning away from the two sleeping forms, finished laying out the corpse. He grabbed both ends on one side fo the body, tying up the strands of cloth into a knot. He did the same to the other side, before crinking his neck. He stared at it, silent as a Sentry, before he was alerted to the growling of his stomach. He hadn't really had the opportunity to have anything to eat last night, given the Xenos, and now his stomach cried out for salvation.
He headed inside the pillbox and pulling out a few things from one of the backpacks he had scavenged from the Valkyrie. He pulled his mess kit out of the bag, as well as a few packets of Corpse-Starch and some of the local flora he had deemed safe to eat.
He pulled out a few logs and set them up, placing the fire-starter from the tinder box atop them. After igniting the wood, he began to slice up the dense, thick bars of Corpse-starch, rendering them down a smaller yet still decent size. He placed them in the tray of the mess kit. He threw in the mix of local berries and flowers, using the tip of his knife to stir them around as he held the tray over the fire. He knew it wasn't needed to cook any of the ingredients, but he wanted something hot to try and take his mind off of his heresy. Plus, it made the corpse starch taste better to have it hang around in the juices of the other plants.
He was distracted from the cooking process by the sound of stirring from outside. Looking through the open doorway, he saw Bright Mac starting to awaken, pushing himself up despite his injury. His nostrils flared before the two of them locked eyes.
Bright Mac half stumbled, half walked into the pillbox, his limp evident. "What is that?", he asked, wrinkling his nose.
"Local plants I've deemed save to eat", Anton said, stirring it a little bit. "Along with some... well, let's just say it's not the best meal, but it's all I've really got."
Anton removed the tray from the fire, letting the chunks of vegetables and half-melted corpse-starch mix together without the heat. He removed three cups from the bag, setting one off to the side while letting the other rest in front of them. As he ladled some of the hot mess into the cups, he added, "I ran out of salt tablets about a week ago, and don't have any other seasoning. Sorry."
"It's fine", Bright Mac said. He took the offered cup, before throwing it back and sending some of the contents flying down his throat. He gagged slightly, before regaining his composure with a raised hoof to signal he was ok. He began to chew, before swallowing the contents with a hearty gulp. "Well... it ain't the worst thing ah've ever had. But, yeah, it could use some extra stuff."
"I know. I just don't have any", Anton said, eating his own mixture.
Bright Mac nodded, before looking back at the shroud that lay just outside of the pillbox. "She went in the night?"
"Yeah", Anton said, polishing off his own small portion. "I've done what I could."
"Ah know, an thank ya", he said, glumly staring into the dying fire. "...L-look. Ah know you've done a lot fer us. B-but. Would ya mind h-helpin' us get back ta our home? It ain't too far, and-"
"Yes", Anton said before his mind could even debate his heresy. "We can move when you are ready."
+++++~+++++
Bright Mac had insisted on carrying his wife, to which Anton hadn't objected. They hadn't left immediately after their meal, however. Bright's daughter, Applejack, had woken up and seen the bag. It had taken over forty minutes to get her away from the bag so that Bright could pick it up.
Even as the three of them walked down the faded path, she hadn't stopped crying. A small trail of tears followed behind them, not all of them from the female. After a while, he had noticed the tears that were also sliding down the face of Bright Mac. Both continued to trudge along behind him, even despite their obvious mourning.
Anton sighed, turning back to the path in front of him. He reached a hoof up to adjust the patrol cap on his head, slowing down slightly as he did so. He had elected only to wear the cuirass of his flak armor, believing that the risk of further attack was rather low. Beyond the beasts being punished for their attack, it was also daytime, with the beasts mostly being nocturnal.
"How much further?", Anton asked, also deeming speed to be an aspect of the movement.
Bright Mac sniffled, before saying, "Not much further. We're almost outta the woods, an' the house ain't too much farther beyond that."
The three of them once again resumed their silent walk, much to both the relief and disappointment of Anton. He had managed to isolate a major factor in his... his tolerance... of these Xenos; that factor being loneliness. He was simply desiring company, due to having been on his own for so long. He supposed that, if denied someone to talk to, even a lowly Xeno would do. That was no excuse for his damning sin, but he brushed it aside. He was similar to them, he supposed; it was something that clicked for his cursed mind.
Soon, the thick trees broke apart at the mouth of the road. Anton came to a halt as the brighter light of the unobstructed area outside the forest temporarily blinded him. When his vision adjusted, his eyes widened.
In almost every direction out from them, orderly rows of crops were arranged like troops on parade. It was mostly trees bearing red fruit on one side of the road, while the other side was broken up by a few different lines of fences by crop type. Here, the road was harder packed, and a fence lined the edge of the road. In the distance, he could see a small bridge over a bubbling stream. Even further beyond that, he could make out the vague shape of a cluster of structures.
The word 'Agri-World' popped into his head immediately, before he shook his head. Even if they were similar from what he could see, it was still damnable to compare these Xenos and whatever basic farms they had created to the breadbaskets of Imperial sectors. He straightened up, adjusted the strap on his shouldered lasgun, and continued down the road.
The three of them passed over the bridge and down the road, the hot sun beating down on the three of them. Anton sighed, before undoing the buttons on the front of his jumpsuit, allowing his body to breath a bit better through the thinner fabric of his undershirt.
Eventually, they reached a wooden archway that split off from the road, which Bright Mac and Applejack turned down. The small side path led them to the cluster of buildings that Anton had seen earlier. A few of them were small pens, in which strange-looking creatures roamed about behind wire fences. One was a large red building that Anton assumed was some form of storage facility. Flanking it was a large, several-story house, on which another of the Xenos was sitting.
This one appeared older, or at the least in less good condition. He decided it was female; light green with light silver hair and a mark of a pie on her flank. She stood up from her chair, brightening at the sight of them. "Yer back! BIG MAC", she called, turning her head back. "Yer parents and sister are back!"
"Comin'!", another voice called from inside.
The older one stepped off the porch, before her eyes narrowed at Anton. "Who're you?", she asked, seemingly finally taking in the state of the other two. "An' where's Buttercup?"
Bright Mac didn't answer; he just gently unslung the shroud from his back and rested it against the ground. The older one's eyes widened, shaking her head lightly. Applejack began crying harder, falling onto her flank in racking sobs.
Yet another new Xeno came out the door; this one male and colored red and dark orange with a green mark and some form of collar. "Sorry, Granny, ah was-" He stopped as he saw the others, before his own widened eyes fell on the shroud. "No. N-no."
He stepped off of the porch, walking up to the other three of them. Anton stepped off to the side, developing an interest in the swirling dirt beneath him. He had seen death, of course, but this was different. It felt personal, and as much as he hated it, it just felt wrong to look up as they mourned. Finally, however, he had the nerve to look up, watching as the four of them embraced one another, united in their shared pain.
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Yes this story pleases me I must have more. Ave Emperor
I enjoy this. Well written.
Nicely done!
The princess will soon come to investigate.
I wonder if he sees Celestia as an anathema of the Emperor's teaching.. or a test
10868195
That's an interesting question. Any interaction would likely start and end with him crossing his hooves in the closest imitation to the sign of the Aquila he can manage, while praying for salvation form this twisted xenos perversion of the holy Emperor.
In any case, we can probably guess how he'd react to Discord. Though it would be funny if Discord is never freed because Applebloom, upon hearing Cheerilee refer to the statue as "the spirit of Chaos and Disharmony", and having grown up on stories from uncle Guardsman, goes "Chaos? Nope. Nope nope nope nope nope nope nope. Nope." And then gets the Melta bombs.
10868375
Uncle Guardsman always said to avoid the words of chaos, but the whispers are just so tempting! One nail couldn't hurt - could it?
Slightly annoyed you offed one of my favorite side characters, but I suppose anyone who can claim a lower fatality rate than Faust is doing a damn fine job. I'd tip my hat, if a timberwolf hadn't eaten it.
I quite enjoy the story, even though I know nothing of Warhammer.
10930810
Same here, all my Warhammer knowledge comes from the crossover stories I read on this side. Which is increasing drasticly since I find the warhammer universe to be extremly interresting.
11081356
... Whatever you do. Don't get into the game itself. That way lies an empty bank account, many cursed evenings, and pain unimagined before the allure of plastic cocaine.
Nothing is below the Emperor’s Grace, nothing is above the Emperor’s Condemnation.
He would know that many preachers seek to only feather their beds, and that even mutants and the heretic and Xenos can be redeemed. Forget not the Xeno Yvraine, who aided one of the Emperor’s own sons. Forget not the heretic, who in their redemption can serve as useful soldiers to atone for their past. Forget not the mutant, like the Beastmen, Navigators, or Ratlings; for all have the ability to serve in his eyes.
10868375
I’m now imagining Applebloom chucking melta bombs and cackling like a maniac as she destroys heretic tanks.
11276592
Forget not that this is an ignorant guardsman who has been fed propaganda his entire life.