AN: Thanks for my friend SharkGlue for all the help!

Book Two: Corruption's End

Chapter 55: Why I Walk

"The eldar are not nearly as perfect as they'd like us to assume." - Lieutenant Chera Marius

"Well that's fucking grim," Yang said, crossing her arms.

Maion found herself agreeing with one of her childhood heroes. Though Uncle Garnet's words had opened an ominous pit in her stomach, she smiled at Yang's cavalier attitude. It was ludicrous that she even sat face-to-face with the Golden Dragon herself, and even with Garnet's dark words, it was difficult to restrain the heady giddiness that coursed through her.

Grandmother was not alone.

At the back of her mind, the mystery of how and why both Yang Xiao Long and Weiss Schnee appeared so much later than Grandmother ate at her, but she would have to save the questioning for later. For now, it was enough to bask in the warm light of Yang's soul. Even though Maion was a capable warrior, one of Il-Kaithe's best, she felt... safer in the Traveller's presence.

"So what now?" Yang asked, breaking the silence. "I'm not one for all that destiny bullshit, but it sounds like this Black Library could have something we're looking for."

"It is a certainty," Garnet assured her.

Darron snorted. "Are we supposed to just take a xeno's word for it? If you ask me, this whole fucking situation reeks of heresy."

Yang rolled her eyes.

"Captain," Garnet said. "I realize how this must sound, and your zealotry permits you from seeing truth, but-"

"But," Maion interrupted, before Garnet aggravated the Captain any further, "this is a matter beyond both of our species. It is beyond the galaxy itself," she added with a sideways glance at Yang. "What my Uncle is trying to say is that he shares your misgivings, but the danger presented by Josephus and the Chariot is too important. We must visit the Black Library." At this, there was silence. The Captain had the good sense to show a hint of flushed embarrassment. At least, it looked like embarrassment. Hard to tell with mon'keigh.

"Though what you say regarding Josephus is true," Lossamdir protested, "what Garnet proposes is hardly simple."

"Obsidian is right," Garnet said, chuffing. "A visit to the Black Library is more than just 'turn left at the second Webway Nexus'. But that does not mean we should not try regardless."

"We need to go," Yang said, her violet eyes meeting her lap. "We have to find Josephus."

Maion nodded, choosing to ignore the hint of desperation in Yang's voice.

"Emperor protect me, this is insane," Chera breathed, her face falling into her hands.

"Ah, I almost forgot. This might explain some things," Yang said, reaching into her back pocket. The man in the synskin suit blinked. "Just... it will come as a shock. For what it's worth... I'm sorry we kept you in the dark, Lieutenant."

In her hands was a slim piece of folded leather. With a moment's hesitation, she removed a slip of glossy paper and handed it to the mon'keigh Lieutenant. With trembling fingers, the woman opened it.

She let out a piercing shriek.

Maion's comrades bristled, hands flying to their weapons at the sudden noise. Captain Marius did the same, a note of panic shattering his mask of discipline.

"It's it's fucking her," the Lieutenant whimpered. "The Red Woman... and Emperor be praised... oh, Holy Terra protect me."

Captain Marius examined the photograph as well. In a moment's time, his face had turned to ash.

"Trickery," he mumbled. "This has to be some kind of warp-damned sorcery."

"Just a pict Captain," Yang's companion said. "I assure you."

"I'm sorry," Yang repeated. "I really am."

Slowly, agonizingly, the little slip of paper made its way around the table. One of the mon'keigh handed it to Lossamdir offhandedly, so lost in the revelation he forgot who stood beside him.

When Maion took hold of the paper, she couldn't stop a smile from spreading across her face. It was Team RWBY in their prime, with the fabled Beacon Academy standing resolute behind them. So happy. So full of joy.

"Team RWBY," Maion said, handing the image to Garnet.

"Unbelievable," he said, grave warning forgotten. "There she is! Ruby Rose! Isha be praised!" He laughed before his ruined face forced him to wince in agony.

"That's my sister alright," Yang said, her smile both watery and full of pride.

"The... the fucking Red Woman," the Lieutenant whimpered "Yang... Our Lady... Emperor protect us, what madness is this?"

"What do you mean, ,'the Red Woman'?" Yang asked. "You mean Ruby?"

"She's been haunting our dreams ever since..." she glanced at the Captain, who gave her a reluctant nod. "Ever since Shao-la. Our Lady she... she discovered the Boy-King had been polluted... possessed. Her fury almost froze us solid." Remembering the cold sent a shiver down her spine. "Her witchery went haywire. Ever since then, we've... we've seen her. Dreamt of her. The Red Woman. Her," she insisted, pointing at the image.

"I don't know what to tell you," Yang said. "She's my sister," she added with a shrug.

"Where are you from," the Captain demanded, cutting her off. Another mon'keigh nodded into his folded hands, whispering a quiet prayer. "How is this possible then, if it's not some convoluted spell?"

"We came from a planet outside the Imperium," Yang replied. "I don't know how it's possible, but it's truth."

"The world of Remnant, Maion explained. "It's well beyond the confines of our galaxy. A world unlike any you have seen. A world of heroes, villains and monsters."

"Our mother Pyrrha hailed from the same place," Garnet said. "She was Yang's contemporary and close friend."

"Which is starting to bug me," Yang said, giving the Lieutenant's shoulder an uneasy pat of support. It was not welcomed. "I came here as I am now... Weiss arrived as a child a couple decades ago. Pyrrha must have shown up quite a while ago if she already has grandchildren."

"Hm," Garnet said, eyes clouding over. "That is certainly odd. By mon'keigh reckoning, Pyrrha Nikos arrived... two thousand years ago."

Yang's face fell. "Oh. I'd... I'd hoped I could see her again."

Garnet sighed a sad sigh. "I'm sorry Yang. Though living on Il-Kaithe and frequent exposure to the Webway extended her life far beyond even the most generous Imperial standards, it is very likely she has since passed."

"You mean you don't know?" Yang asked.

"She disappeared with Grandfather..." Maion paused, converting passes into years. "Two hundred and seven years ago. I was little more than a child at the time."

"This is madness," the Captain whispered. "Sheer madness."

"Don't forget the fact that I died," Yang said, a poorly conceived attempt at humor. The mon'keigh only looked more despondent and confused, but Garnet considered her words with care.

"That is correct... murdered by terrorists at twenty-two," he said.

"I don't remember it happening... not really," Yang said. "But it's possible that this galaxy is the final resting place for Remnant's dead. Certainly seems to be a theme," she added with a grimace.

"Then Grandmother has died before," Garnet said, brow furrowing. "That is… troubling."

"We're losing track of our goal," Lossamdir rumbled. "So, Captain we must reach a decision. Will you continue to fight us every step of the way?"

"Easy there man," Yang said. "Have some sympathy for them. It's a big shock."

"The facts have been presented, there is no reason-"

"Enough, Uncle." Maion said. Some of the Swooping Hawks rankled at the disrespect shown to their Exarch, but she cared little for their banal opinions. "You are doing nothing to help the hunt." She turned to face the bewildered mon'keigh guardsmen. "Captain Marius, we have no intention of misleading you or tricking you. You happen to have been caught up in a series of... unexpected and tumultuous developments regarding a bridge between galaxies... possibly even universes."

"Emperor protect us... you're not lying, are you?" one of them whimpered.

"Among your kind we have a reputation for deceit," Maion allowed. "With that in mind, allow me to be perfectly clear - I swear on my soul, on my human ancestry, on the Holy Terra you hold sacred, I have no intention of deceiving you."

The manor grew still. Distantly, faintly, the keening song of the native fauna could be heard, lilting and gentle. It seemed to fill the corners of the manor, echoing away into nothingness. Maion's war-party stood in judgmental silence. An oath on one's soul was a grim matter, and she could see Asillar recoil at her words.

"That is no small oath," Ysdrea said in the tongue of Il-Kaithe. "What right do you have to swear such a thing?"

"It is imperative that we keep our allies in mind," Maion replied in gothic. "I realize it is far from ideal, but please refrain from speaking in words they cannot understand. No matter what path Uncle decides to take, incurring further distrust will do us no favors "

"I spit on their distrust," Asillar snarled in the mother tongue, earning him alarmed looks from both parties. "They are mon'keigh! Animals! Yang especially, she-"

Maion slapped him.

"You are a fool," she growled. Lossamdir made to step between them, rage spilling from his soul in cloying waves. She switched to gothic. "Are you blind to Yang's soul? Tell me, are you all deaf to its song?" She asked, rounding on her war-party. "That blow that Garnet suffered would have crushed you all into a red gruel. If she so chose, she could best us all without breaking a sweat. Tell me, tell me Asillar, are you blind to this?" She pointed to Yang, who sat frozen in surprise. "Even the Soul-Wielder believed this woman superior to her, and you all know what Grandmother did in the name of Il-Kaithe."

Silence.

"Pyrrha thought I was stronger?" Yang asked, her words weak, their footing unsteady. "That... can't be right."

"At least during your time together in Beacon," Garnet admitted with a half-smile. "Mother was nothing if not humble."

"This will do wonders for her ego," the man in synskin muttered to himself. It earned him an abortive chuckle from Yang. No one else laughed.

"We... we need to discuss this," the Captain said. "This is all just... so ludicrous."

"I agree, Captain," Lossamdir said. "I must have words with my war-party."

That was undoubtedly directed at me. Maion breathed deep, taking in deep lungfuls of air. I might have lost my temper back there.

"You are an absolute fool!" Lossamdir hissed. For him, it was akin to a raging bellow. He paced before the collected war-party, wearing a trench into the lounge's carpeting. It was a small room, just enough to fit the war-party within its walls. A brick fireplace sat unused, the timbers within ashen and cold. The furniture surrounding it was plush and comfortable, far too luxuriant for the war-party's tastes.

"I planted a seed of doubt in their souls," Maion replied evenly. Mon'keigh are not bright beings, but neither are they stupid. They can deduce the meaning of what I've said. Maybe.

"You struck your own comrade!" Lossamdir cried. "Today we can truly see the mean character of mon'keigh half-breeds!"

Asillar crossed his arms, his face red as summervine from Maion's blow. He searched her gaze for a sign of regret. He found nothing.

"Your behavior has been nothing short of contemptible," Lossamdir growled "Upon our return to Il-Kaithe, you will be harshly punished."

"I ensured the success of our mission."

"We have already succeeded," Lossamdir spat. "Now that we know what the Chariot is, we shall find it and destroy it. Our dealings with the Inquisition are done."

Maion said nothing, refusing to acknowledge the Exarch's words. She had acted rashly - this could not be denied. She still knew she had done the right thing.

"To abandon our quest now would be an act of cowardice. It borders on treason," Garnet added. "I have seen our course plain in the currents of the Empyrean... a rarity, I should add. Your words sicken me, Lossamdir. I know my brother would never say such cowardly things. Bring him out so that wiser heads might prevail."

"You are but a guide!" Lossamdir insisted. "And Obsidian is no more. He has become part of something far greater."

"And far more tremulous," Garnet snapped, stalking over to his former brother. "One shining soul among an ocean of blinded fools."

"Enough!" Ysdrea shouted, throwing herself between the former brothers. Her eyes were like chips of ice, and her dyed-red hair fluttered against the cream-colored plates of her armor. "We are warriors of Il-Kaithe! Crusaders against Chaos! To debase ourselves in such a manner is disgusting! We," she insisted, laying a hand upon her breast as she gestured at the war-party, "are not here to be pawns in the middle of the half-breeds' family squabble. You may lead this mission, Exarch, but you are not of our shrine. Your mon'keigh ancestry has failed you all! If this is the 'fate of the Eldar'" she sneered, glancing at Maion, "If this the hope you speak of, then I believe it would have been better for Caelus to throw himself into the Eye of Terror than rut with that mon'keigh whore!"

"Hold your tongue!" Garnet bellowed. "No one can deny my Mother has done more for Il-Kaithe than anyone has in thousands of passes! How many mon'keigh has she slain? How many, Ysdrea? How many of the arch-foe lie dead at her feet? How many Imperials?"

"Silence!" Lossamdir cried, but he was too late. Arguments erupted and tempers flared like dying suns, while shouted words were traded with abandon.

Anger surged through Maion at Ysdrea's words, but it blows slackened and died away, crushed under a wave of regret. Only minutes ago we discovered Grandmother was not alone... and this is our reaction? To fight and squabble like animals?

Lossamdir tried a different tactic to seize their attention.

A piercing mental screech silenced them all, a stab of pain in the minds of the war-party. Maion winced, recoiling from the sudden blow to her senses.

"Disgraceful. Your conduct on this mission has been utterly disgraceful," Lossamdir said. "All of you. I am ashamed to have headed this disastrous venture."

"I would not call our mission disastrous," Maion said carefully. Fate hung heavy in the air, she could feel it. If she did not act... the consequences would be dire. "These developments are... rather extreme. The Soul-Wielder is no longer alone. There are others. The implications are tremendous, and they cannot be understated. I ask you all to do but a single task - consider the decision before us. Tell me, what if we decide to lead Yang to her destiny?"

"Our deaths are all but assured," Asillar said, staring into the dead fireplace. "Spent on the foolish guidance of an untested warlock. Your Uncle made our fate plain."

"Death is likely," Maion said, "but why does it worry you so? Do we not all tread the Path of the Warrior? I would rather consign myself to a torturous death in the webway then allow chaos a single additional inch of power. In that way, I am a true daughter of Il-Kaithe. We have worked with mon'keigh before to staunch the spread of the arch-foe. Today is no different."

"Please understand Maion," Ysdrea said. "We all realize the absurdity of Yang's presence. But we were given a purpose, a mission. Her destiny - if it is half as grave as Garnet claims - is beyond our interference. If we do not return, we risk throwing away not only our souls, but knowledge of the Chariot. Are you so eager to consign yourself to She-Who-Thirsts? To fail the Autarch's trust?"

"I... no." Maion said, the simplicity of the question taking her aback. "No. Of course not. But it is not as if I will be handing her my soul."

"I simply do not wish such an unnecessary fate to befall us," Ysdrea continued. "And what if there are no answers about Josephus? The Black Library is hardly a place of... absolutes."

Well spoken. Postures relaxed, deep breaths inhaled. Exhaled. The scent of the lounge was distinct, stained with decades of use and the smell of rich lumber. Only as she gathered her thoughts did she truly notice it. The room smelt… so very human. Maion flexed her hand, curling it into a fist. Relaxing it.

"We cannot play the game of 'what-ifs' forever," she said eventually. "Uncle Garnet would not mislead us - there are answers in the Black Library. If we do not ferret them out, we will have missed a chance to kill a crucial foe." She looked up at Ysdrea. "And destroy the Chariot before any mon'keigh obtain its power."

"Hmph," Asillar sneered, dismissing her logic with a brusque wave. "You seemed pretty friendly with this Yang character. Why would you deprive your new friends such a powerful asset? Are our fates not intertwined," he asked, derision made plain in a brilliant, shining smile.

"Just because we share fates does not mean we should endanger Il-Kaithe unnecessarily,' she answered. "Leaving the Chariot intact also leaves it vulnerable for the arch-foe to claim later." She shook her head. "The point is moot if we debase ourselves and flee. We will be too late to act if the Black Library's call is ignored."

"And what if we do not go," Lossamdir said. "The choice is not yours to make," he reminded them. "It is mine, and mine alone. Maion… Garnet… what would you do if I order our return to Il-Kaithe."

Garnet shrugged, rolling his the pointed pauldrons that adorned his shoulders. "I would go regardless. I am sorry, Obsidian."

"Don't be a fool," Obsidian exclaimed, binding his fist in Garnet's robes. "Don't throw your soul away!"

Garnet shrugged again, avoiding his brother's eyes.

"Maion?" Obsidian asked.

She took another breath. "I would do the same."

"Why?" Lossamdir demanded. "Explain to me - Why are you so eager to die?"

Garnet made to speak, but Maion stepped forward instead.

Her nails cut into her palm as she made a pair of striking fists. "I am a killer," she said to them. "These are the instruments of Khaine the Bloody-Handed. With them, I make death. Though my war-mask has not consumed me, I know they will make nothing else. They are not the hands of a mother or a bone-singer. They will never cradle an infant or pluck a harp. But rage does not consume me. All of you walk the Warrior's path because you are angry. Within you, the desire to wash your hands in blood burns bright. Khaine calls you all to indulge in the rage that lies sleeping in our souls. It is his blessing as well as his curse. But this... this is not why I Walk."

She strode towards the fireplace, past each of her fellow warriors. They watched her closely. Some glowered with undisguised hate. Some stared at their feet. Some stood riveted, unmoving and still as statues.

"On my Grandmother's homeworld, the reasons to become a warrior are ones alien to us - they are volunteers," she told the cold timbers. "There is no rage to drive them, no Emperor to follow with slavish devotion, no Dark Gods to corrupt them. They do not even refer to themselves as warriors. They do not kill... they serve. They are soldiers. Like the guardians, yet… not. They fight to protect their homes and their nation, even before they are threatened. I am a killer first and foremost, but I am also a soldier. I am a soldier because I love Il-Kaithe."

Maion rounded on the war-party.

"I will defend it. Even at the cost of my soul, I will defend my home. My friends. My family. My kin. If my soul is lost to She-Who-Thirsts to save but one other eldar from the same fate, so be it. I hope She chokes on it."

A dread quiet filled the lounge.

"Why?" Asillar asked, his voice but a whisper. "How could you say such a thing? You're-"

"A hybrid. I know. It doesn't matter. If we flee from the the truth behind Yang and Grandmother... behind Josephus and the Chariot, any sacrifice we make will mean nothing. True hope has blossomed in Il-Kaithe's breast for the first time in countless eons. I will not be the one to see it extinguished."

Lossamdir shifted his weight between his wings, brow furrowed into an abyssal trench. Even Garnet had nothing to say. A rarity, Maion noted dizzily. She had not meant to bare her soul like that.

"Very well," Lossamdir said eventually. "You have explained yourself. At length," he added with a curled lip. "You have made it clear you intend to be disobedient. Autarch Elladar will hear of this."

"He will not act," one of the Dark Reapers said as he stared at his launcher. Kaedrus, Maion remembered. "We only serve him on this endeavor. You are merely our overseer." An uncomfortable reminder, one that festered in the minds of many in the war party.

"I promised him to see this through," Maion said. "He is one of the few who has shown the Tou'Her any measure of kindness. I will not fail his trust. If anything, he will have stern words with you, Lossamdir."

"Feh," Lossamdir said. "If that is the case then, you can all decide upon it." Venom dripped from every word. "I will take no responsibility for your deaths."

Even the Swooping Hawks took pause at their Exarch's words. Was Lossamdir truly letting them decide their own fates?

"I say we venture forth," a Dire Avenger said, his face a mask of placid calm. "Come death or damnation, Maion is right. I will not allow an opportunity to defeat a hated foe pass me by."

"I agree," his companion said. His fist thudded against his breastplate, ringing off the scarlet soul stone. "Maion… You are sister to Mirodir," he added. "The most capable comrade I have known. By his loyalty, and ability, I shall place my trust in you."

"We stand with you as well," Kaedrus said. "I would rather lay dead in the webway than see Il-Kaithe perish due to our inaction."

"Hope is dangerous," Ysdrea admitted, running her hands through her fiery locks. "And Maion, why you Walk means little to me, but I will afford you this much- any measure to stop Josephus must be taken."

"I curse your name, Maion Tou'Her," Asillar said. "Your words are poison, and it irks me that you would prick our pride to serve your own ends. You have all but called us cowards. You have shamed us into action." His fingers caressed his raptor helm, tracing the ruby-red eye pieces. "I will go, if only for the satisfaction of bringing home your spirit stones myself."

The rest remained hesitant. No one else stepped forward, no one else believed Josephus' death was worth their own.

It mattered little.

"The Black Library, then," Lossamdir said, deciding for the rest. "Isha protect us."

Silent acceptance greeted his words, while faces turned solemn and grey. An unspoken command coursed through them, and one by one, they departed the lounge. Only Maion remained.

She looked at her hands.

I have doomed them all.

A/N: Oof, this was not an easy chapter to write. Eldar are tough. You should also note that these aren't… well, how eldar are normally portrayed. They're normally seen (even from hostile perspectives), as lithe, perfect, beings. Honestly, I find them -even the Black Library works from the Eldar perspective- extremely boring. Eldar are supposed to feel emotions with unparalleled intensity, but when I read about them, they all sound like whiny, entitled children. Also, the whole 'perfect elves' trope annoys me - flawed people are more fun to write and read about. Yeah, these might not be eldar how you're used to reading them, but they're more in line with how I think they should be - vicious, arrogant, and mysterious, but also possessed of great wisdom and charisma.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter! And for those puzzled by the lack of action in recent chapters, don't worry... dark things are brewing in the Webway...