Sanguinary, Shrineworld & Fortress Monastery of the Knights of Sanguinus
Demarcus came out of his sleep with a jolt.
Sleep was not a true requirement for the genetically enhanced Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes, the Catalepsean Node which is implanted within them allows them to remain awake and asleep simultaneously. Old Terran doctors would have compared it to a state of acute meditation.
Demarcus however was not your normal Astartes, he was also a Chief Librarian of the Knights of Sanguinius Librarium; one of four vaunted positions at the head of the Librarium within the ranks of the chapter. When he allowed his mind to be lured into the state of nothingness, what he liked to call “the Void,” his latent psykic powers would come to the fore.
The dreams were plaguing him again. Like malevolent phantasms that chased him each time he entered the psykic dream state that gave him visions of the future. Demarcus was unique in that fashion. He was the first Seer that the Librarium had had in over two thousand years. When Chief Librarian and Lord of the Blood Secrets, Tacitus Faunus, discovered his potential for the powers of a Seer when Demarcus had been requesting entrance into the Librarium he had immediately taken him under his wing. In the two hundred years since Demarcus had first been inducted and made into a Space Marine, his psykic powers had grown within him to staggering proportions.
As much as his chapter brothers cheered him and respected his abilities as a Seer, he did not treasure them as much as they. It was painful, to watch as your battle-brothers die within your dreams and know that you cannot fully change their Fate. Being a Seer did not mean that he could automatically know the time and place of a persons death or any specific event. His mind was an instrument upon which the music of the Emperor's power played. Even the Emperor's Tarot, the all-knowing cards, could help him in deciphering certain dreams.
Demarcus sighed and looked around at his surroundings, his eyes shifting through the shadows around him so that to him everything was in stark relief. A normal human would have been unable to see anything but the near pitch black of the room.
He sat within his private sanctum, a small room by standards of a Space Marine, upon the meditation throne at the far end of the rectangular room. Either side of the walls were covered in shelves piled high with heavy tomes and ancient books, histories and treatises of the Chapter. Two small alcoves sat upon either side of the thick, wooden entrance to his room. On the left was his power armor resting on its stand, resplendent in its artistic glory and majesty, High Gothic script flowing across his red-gold pauldrons and vembraces. Newly attached purity seals fluttered silently from the circulation of air pumping from a nearby vent.
Within the right alcove was a stasis field which held two of Demarcus' most important belongings: the psykic hood which helped to augment and steady his tremendous psykic powers and a steel staff of silver that bore the image of the Emperor Ascendant at its peak, glowing sapphires set within the figures head that showed the power within the staff. It was a treasure of the Chapter's Librarium, the Stave of Almander, once owned and used by the first Chief Librarian of the Knights of Sanguinius. Tacitus had entrusted the Stave to him when Demarcus had been lifted to the rank of Chief Librarian, of which there were only five within the Chapter at any one time.
The familiar surroundings and smells of his room did not comfort Demarcus as he studied them. He stood from his meditation throne, pulled on his red librarium robes, and still barefoot walked out of his sanctum chamber.
He stepped into the Librarius Dormitory, the section of the Fortress Monastery that the members of the Librarium were sequestered from the other, blunt members of the Chapter. The hall was vaulted and made from the white marble rock that the entire monastery was made from. The walls were lined with gold filigree and red paintwork, images of avenging angels and drops of blood being the main motif to cover the walls.
Walking past the banners and murals that depicted the members of the Librarium of the chapter victorious in battle and displaying different psykic powers, Demarcus came before the door to the Librarius Santificus, the innermost vault of the Librarium. Only the five Chief Librarians were allowed entrance to the Librarius Santificus, for within were stored the chapter's most precious relics and deepest secrets.
A servo-skull was imbedded into the iron door. It's glowing red eyes detected the presence of Demarcus and a beam of light shot out from its eyes and scanned him from head to foot. Satisfied that he fit the scan, a small panel fell forwards. Within the recess was the shape of a palm-print and five small needles. Demarcus put his hand into the print and the needles shot into the tips of his fingers and thumb, drawing a sample of blood. The cogitators chimed softly, his blood sample verified.
The next step to opening the doors required finesse. Demarcus pulled upon a small portion of his psykic powers and touched the small winged skull that was carved at the center of the door. The psykic power pumped slowly into the winged skull for five seconds, after which Demarcus cut off the flow of warp power. The eyes of the winged skull glowed sapphire-white. A third chime sounded, and the doors cracked open.
He quickly stepped inside and felt the air flow cut off as the doors closed behind him. There was a clicking sound, as the hundreds of bolts and locking mechanisms returned to their set placement.
Within the Librarius Santificus were rows of book shelves filled with ancient books, stasis field columns that held ancient power armor or other relics of the chapter, and tables at which the various Chief Librarians could sit comfortably while researching or meditating within the chamber.
Demarcus was unsurprised to find one of the tables occupied.
He walked forward and put his fist up to his heart in salute and bowed humbly before the seated man. “I thought I would find you here, at this hour, my Lord.”
Chief Librarian Tacitus Faunus smiled up from his seat at Demarcus.
“I wonder if that is simply because you know my habits too well, old friend, or you've been using your Seer powers again in superfluous ways,” replied Tacitus.
“Old habits, my Lord,” Demarcus smiled back.
Tacitus frowned and motioned for Demarcus to sit. “Please, make yourself comfortable my son. Tell me what it is that is troubling you.”
“Am I that transparent?” Demarcus laughed mockingly at himself and took the proffered chair.
“It does not take much to recognize when heavy thoughts weigh upon the mind of a friend, Brother Demarcus,” said Tacitus sagely.
“I would think that a Librarian of my power and ability would be able to better hide my emotions.”
“You will in time, I am sure, after more practice,” Tacitus grinned slightly. Few were either as ancient or powerful as Tacitus. Except for the Chapter Master, he was the second oldest living Astartes within the Chapter, well over seven-hundred years of age.
“It is your dreams again, isn't it?” asked Tacitus, insightful in his probing as usual.
“They are coming faster and more often now,” sighed Demarcus, not trying to hide anything from his mentor.
“Have you learned anything more to their meaning since the last time they came to you?”
“No, sadly,” replied Demarcus. “Just the same symbols and signs as before...except for a new addition that came tonight.”
“Tell me again, in detail, all that you are seeing,” ordered Tacitus, concentrating hard.
Demarcus nodded and began relating what he would see within his Seer dreams.
“I stand with a group of my battle-brothers upon a planet that I have never before seen. It is covered in billowing clouds of dust and sand. I feel fatigue and anger well up within me. We are challenged and fighting hard.
“An ancient numeral appears before me. The script is ancient High Gothic in nature, I remember it well, in the shape of the romanus numeral One.
“What became different about tonight was, instead of focusing once more upon the numeral one, like my vision usually does, a third image appeared.”
“What was that image?” Tacitus quietly asked.
“An image of a giant lion with gargantuan saber-tooth fangs and a noble bearing. But it was alone, running through darkness. So very, very alone.”
Part of his abilities as a Seer meant that coupled with the images that Demarcus saw, were emotions that paralleled with what he was seeing. Demarcus finished speaking and looked up at his mentor and master. Tacitus was resting his chin thoughtfully upon his giant right fist, the sheer image of a mountain contemplating the small stone at the base of its cliffs. After considering Demarcus' words, Tacitus looked up at him and nodded.
“We must search for this mysterious planet of yours, Demarcus. It is the key to discovering the meaning to your visions,” said Tacitus.
“Where could we possibly begin to search for a planet out of the untold billions that exist?” asked Demarcus, momentarily stunned by so monumental a task.
“Where else does one seek such things?” grinned Tacitus. “We pay a visit to Nahiliast Prime and the Arch-Magos Logastus. The Mechanicus never deletes any information. There, within their cogitators, may be the location of your planet.”
