#and later zikar-sin of the word bearers

[ask-the-crimson-king]

Fantasy's Wings

Dusk descended gracefully upon the beautiful glittering spires of Tizca. Small lanterns, crafted by the younger children in anticipation for the celebration, hung all around the city. It was the beginning of the celebrations to ring in the new year, and tonight was the Night of Wishes, a time where children would make lanterns, make a wish, and let them fly off into the night. Some had already been lit, flying into the pale orange sky as it faded to a deeper blue, while others waited until the first stars appeared. They were all colorful, adorned with all manner of decorations from abstract patterns of colors to depictions of mythical beasts and animals.

Zikar-Sin strode around the city without much care or purpose. His day's work had been completed, and he had wanted to see the bounds of his home again. The quiet hum of everyday life around him was a breath of fresh air compared to the constant drum of war. He had only been away for approximately a decade, but he was more than happy to return. He was awaiting his placement to one of his cousin Legions for his secondment.

He had selected three of them, based on a few of the interactions he had with their warriors; the White Scars, the Iron Warriors, and the Word Bearers. He almost selected the Blood Angels, but one of his close friends -- an initiate into the Order of Ruin named Imentet -- was already selected to join them. So he chose the Word Bearers, in part because he wanted to meet the newly recovered primarch. Lorgar had been discovered and given reign over his Legion only about five years prior, and Zikar-Sin found the change from Iconoclasts to the Bearers of the Word... interesting. Not that he knew the Legion much before the coming of their primarch, just that they seemed to transform themselves into something... different. New to the Legions.

New wasn't always bad. So he wanted to learn more about it.

As the Astartes walked, he let his mind unwind a little. He rose into the lower Ennumerations with some concentration, allowing him to see the City of Light in all its splendor. Presently he stood on the edge of central Tizca, the mountains flanking him as he watched the waning dusk. Stars began to peek out of the dimming sky, which meant that it was almost time for the other lanterns to be lit and released. Zikar-Sin remembered when he first took part in the tradition; he had just been selected as an initiate into the Legion itself, and he had created one infused with his hopes to be the greatest warrior the galaxy had ever seen.

How naive he once was, he thought to himself.

You're still naive, he knew his brothers would tell him. Just a different kind of it.

He shrugged off the assumed words of his close kindred and started his walk back into the city proper. Families were gathering with their little ones, carefully taking the lanterns and preparing to send them off on their final flights.

As he walked, he kept his mind open, sensing the temperaments of those he strolled past. One child was wishing for another cat in addition to the five they already had, much to the chagrin of their older sibling who happened to be allergic. Could that be altered by the Pavoni? Zikar-Sin would have to ask later. As the child lit the lantern with the help of their sibling and parents, Zikar-Sin felt the dulled mind and presence of a stray a few streets over. With some gentle aetheric nudging, he led the animal back to the child, much to their immense delight. The Astartes was already long gone by the time the cat had made it over, and the bright light of happiness outshone their own lantern in Zikar-Sin's aethersight.

He continued onward, his mind still abroad and wandering. Another child was hoping that they could use their pyromantic abilities to turn into a dragon, or a lion with the mane of a sun. Their parents were not as enthused by this aspiration, and Zikar-Sin noticed they had already more than fireproofed their home. The parents did not have a similar lean -- one was an auramancer while the other some variation of geokineticist -- so the gentle tiredness and exasperation at their child's wish and aspirations for the coming year was nothing new for them. He allowed himself a smile.

But then something interesting snagged at his other senses. It wasn't a happy emotion, rather one of fear and sadness. Zikar-Sin's brow furrowed, and he went and followed the thread. It led him back towards the Silver District, to a side street that didn't have any lanterns hung.

Well. Save for one, being closely held by a small child.

They must've been no older than eight or nine Terran years, by Zikar-Sin's rough estimate. Midnight blues and uncertain yellows clung to them closely. They were crying. Zikar-Sin approached slowly, gently brushing his mind against theirs. He found a longing there, but before he could discern more, the child jumped and whipped their head around, looking for the source of the disturbance. They spotted Zikar-Sin and jumped backwards, trying to hide their lantern and aggressively wiping at their face to hide their tears.

"I did not mean to disturb you," Zikar-Sin said slowly.

"Am I in trouble?" the child asked. Zikar-Sin shook his head.

"Of course not. Why would you be?"

"Because you're not supposed to be sad when people are celebrating," the child answered.

"And who told you that?"

"My friends." The child wiped at their face again.

"Not all celebrations will bring feelings of happiness," Zikar-Sin said. He stepped closer and crouched down so he was more on the child's level. "I am Zikar-Sin, of the Thousand Sons. May I have your name?"

"Huitzilin," the child answered.

"It is very nice to meet you, Huitzilin," Zikar-Sin said with a smile. "Would you mind if I asked why you were feeling sad?" He sensed Huitzilin mentally brace, as though they were facing reprimand or ridicule.

"I..." they hesitated, fiddling with the tassels of the lantern still behind their back. "I just miss my dad..." Tears came to their eyes, though they did their best not to cry in front of an Astartes. Zikar-Sin feared this meant the child was an orphan of war, realizing their father was garrisoned with the 28th Expedition Fleet. But he then saw what made up part of the child's lantern, though Huitzilin wanted to hide it. Unfortunately, the child's aura betrayed their emotions. It was a letter, promising he would be home soon, and to keep watch over their cat and bird while he was away.

"You miss him dearly, don't you?" Zikar-Sin asked. "I'm sure he misses you just as much." Huitzilin nodded and sobbed, covering their eyes with a hand.

"I'm sorry..."

"No, no, don't apologize. Here." The Astartes took out a small rag from the belt that helped secure his tunic in place. The child took it and wiped at their eyes and nose. "Would you like a hug?" Huitzilin took a moment to consider, before nodding wordlessly and allowing themself to be brought into a warm hug by the Astartes.

"I'm sorry," Huitzilin mumbled.

"Hush. None of that now," Zikar-Sin said softly. "Don't let anyone tell you that you aren't allowed to be upset about missing your parents. No matter the occasion. Okay?"

"Okay." The child pulled back, still hiccuping a little. They brought the lantern to their chest, sniffling and rubbing their eyes.

"Would you like my help releasing your lantern?" the Astartes asked. Huitzilin hesitated for a few moments. They hugged the lantern a bit tighter, almost defensive over it. Zikar-Sin felt the child's worry. They worried that if they let it go, they'd be letting go of their father's promise. Their wish was obvious.

"It is okay to say no," Zikar-Sin said. "Scary thought, to let go of a wish, isn't it?" Huitzilin nodded. "You know, I bet your father made a lantern for you tonight. And he has the same wish as you." The child's eyes widened.

"They make lanterns out there?" they asked. Zikar-Sin nodded.

"Of course. And, just like the ones here, they get released into the tides of the Great Ocean itself, and through the power of great will... they may just come true," the Astartes answered. "The more people wish for something, the more likely it is to come true."

Huitzilin looked back at the lantern. It was decorated like a brightly colored bird, the note from their father inside.

"Again, it is okay to say no. You do not have to let go of it if you do not want to," Zikar-Sin said.

"I think I want to," Huitzilin said, holding out the lantern to Zikar-Sin. "That way, my lantern can find his, and our wishes can both come true." Zikar-Sin nodded, beginning to conjure a small current of wind around him.

"Are you ready?" he asked. Huitzilin nodded, closing his eyes and silently mouthing his wish. When he opened his eyes again, Zikar-Sin lit the lantern, sending it into the skies above to join the thousands of other artificial stars, buoyed by the hopes and dreams of the children of Prospero.

"I hope it works," Huitzilin said quietly.

"It will. I know it will." The Astartes slowly stood to his full height, nearly doubling that of the child's. "Would you like to join me for the festivities happening in Occulum Square? A few of my brothers have planned out quite the spectacle. I think you'd enjoy it."

"That's a far walk..." Huitzilin mumbled. Zikar-Sin laughed.

"And who said you would be the one walking? I can carry you on my back, if you'd like."

That seemed to excite the child. They nodded, and Zikar-Sin crouched down again, letting Huitzilin hop on.

"Hold on tight, we'll be there before the sun fades!" the Astartes said. He gave the child a few seconds to clasp their hands around his neck, and he supported their legs before he stood and ran off through the streets of Tizca. His sandals slapped against the paved walkways as he raced for the heart of the city, making sure to take the streets that were less occupied so that he didn't accidentally trample over anyone. Huitzilin laughed and whooped in his ear, urging him to run faster, almost as though Zikar-Sin were their noble steed. The Astartes grinned himself and did his best to comply, taking a detour before getting to the heart of the festivities. He let the child down as the opening remarks began, earning some strange looks from the other gathered Thousand Sons present.

Zikar-Sin spent the next hour accompanying Huitzilin around the festival, until they ran into their friends and said. The children were in awe at the fact that Huitzilin had befriended one of the Legion. A couple of them seemed jealous, much to Zikar-Sin's delight. They invited Huitzilin to come play some games with them, and the child hesitated, looking up at Zikar-Sin.

"You don't need my permission," he said. "If you want to play with them, you are free to do so."

"I don't want to leave you alone," Huitzilin said, wringing his hands nervously. Zikar-Sin laughed.

"Oh, don't worry. My brothers are nearby. I'll need to check in with them anyway," he said. He looked over to where three of them had gathered, talking among themselves about some higher concepts. One of them noticed Zikar-Sin looking in their direction and furrowed his brow. Zikar-Sin grinned mischievously. "Maybe once you are done playing, you all can come meet them. I'm sure they would love to say hello."

+Zikar, what in the Emperor's name are you dragging us into?+ came a psychic voice.

+You can handle being around some small children for a few short minutes,+ Zikar-Sin sent back. +Some socialization would do you good.+

+Like you have any leg to stand on.+

+I have two, actually.+ Zikar-Sin then pushed away his brother's connection, focusing back on the children who were excitedly talking amongst themselves.

"That'd be awesome!" said one of them.

"Can we meet them now?" asked another.

"Later," Zikar-Sin said, "first I need to speak with them. Go play your games and have fun, and I'll call you all over when they're ready."

There was a small chorus of 'awww's that followed his words, but the kids seemed to accept it.

"C'mon, Huitzi," one of the kids said, gently grabbing Huitzilin by the shoulder. "You've got to see this cool lizard thing! It's from one of the worlds my mom went to!"

"No way, they've got to see my new cat first!"

"I want to show them the dragon!"

"Peace, children, peace," Zikar-Sin said with a dry expression. "Huitzilin, what would you like to see first?"

"Well..." Huitzilin said, frowning in thought. "The lizard does sound cool..."

"Then let's go! Bye, Sir Astartes!" said one of the kids, grabbing Huitzilin's hand and pulling them away. Zikar-Sin waved goodbye, watching them run off. He then turned to go join his brothers, a soft smile on his face.

"Scouting for new initiates?" asked the same who had intruded on his thoughts earlier.

"Not really," Zikar-Sin answered. "Though isn't that your job, Nekhbet?"

"Sometimes, when I'm not tending to the one's we're already testing," Nekhbet answered. "You seem to like the child well enough. They could be Astartes material. They seem to be of age."

"Hmm..." Zikar-Sin frowned.

"We could at the very least test for viability," said the soft-spoken voice of Asim, hardly more than an aspirant himself. Zikar-Sin turned back to where Huitzilin had ran off, thinking of the child's wish.

"I think they may like that idea," Zikar-Sin said.

---

The sky churned with the might of an endless storm above him. Starlight was obscured and refracted in strange ways, making the already peculiar light cast over the landscape even stranger. The ground beneath his armored boots was shards of shattered glass, each reflecting facets of both past and future to be and never to be again.

In his hands was a lantern, light and decorated in the aspect of a colorful bird. With a breath, Zikar-Sin conjured a current of wind, lit the lantern, and let it fly off into the sky. Inside of it was a note, never to be read.

It was but one artificial star, flying alone into the uncaring heavens above. It carried a wish that was never to be granted.

A wish for his little brother to find peace and safety in whatever realm he now walked within.

A silent tear rolled down his cheek, falling and splashing onto one of the shards below. As the sorcerer turned, he conjured his tower, walking inside without another glance at the tortured sky.

He did not see that, for the barest and briefest of moments, there was a second lantern. It winked in and out of existence in the span of a heartbeat, but it was there.

And that was all that mattered.

#thousand sons #warhammer 40k #warhammer 30k #not magnus this time #welcome to the stage my little anxious and audacious sorcerer/diabolist #zikar-sin of the thousand sons #and later zikar-sin of the word bearers #as with most of my writings this is inspired by a song of the same name #fantasy's wings by ancient bards #this is the unofficial/official announcement of me adding him to the blog as a side muse