Star of Chaos (CH1) (Patreon)

Not quite what you guys wanted I'm sure, but... well, those of you who've been around for long enough will remember I once tried my hand at a Warhammer story. Twice actually. The reception was lukewarm for both and I wasn't too happy with it, so I shelved them after ten or so chapters. Being a dark fantasy fanboy, this particular fandom never quite left my head, though. I've been messing around with a ton of stuff the past year, weighing fanfics against original stories and so on. I really do think original is... just kind of better, but at the same time, it has problems too. I can't help recalling the story I'm most proud of, even if it didn't last long (like the rest, I suppose...)—Gaston. I don't think I can go back to that one, but I felt like I could write something similar. A story set in a world we're all familiar with, but being otherwise entirely original. That's what this is. A fantasy-type planet isolated by the warp or located in a different dimension, mostly divorced from the 40k universe. There will be elements of Warhammer in this, but it's pretty much my own concoction. I think it has a lot of promise. Anyway, here's the first chapter. Hope some of you like it, at least.

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A boy awoke with a start, trembling and breathing raggedly. His hand curled at his chest, grasping at his shirt like a claw. Memories of the nightmare quickly faded from his mind, but it was a while before his thundering heartbeat returned to normal.

Despite the chilly weather, he was soaked in sweat, his clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin. He threw off the thick blanket before peeling his shirt, flinging it into the room’s corner. Icy air washed over him, making him shiver.

He sat like that for a while, listening to the sounds of quiet breathing. His family wasn’t poor for this day and age, but neither were they well-off. As such, he shared a room with his three older sisters. They were sleeping soundly, oblivious to his struggles—except for one.

“Eli…?”

Hearing a sleepy voice, Eli looked to his right. He saw his oldest sister turn on her side, rubbing her eyes. She looked blearily at him.

“Go back to sleep, Bee.” He whispered. He hated how squeaky his voice was, but that was to be expected from a four-year-old.

Beatrice ignored him, sitting up silently. She laid a hand on his arm. “You’re ice-cold!” She said, not quite managing to restrain her voice. “Get back under your blanket.” She didn’t give him a chance to protest, moving her hand to his shoulder and shoving him under.

Eli mumbled something about how she shouldn’t wake the others, but the words were muffled by the fabric.

“Let me hold you.” Beatrice said, shuffling closer before wrapping her arms around him. Her wool sleepwear tickled his face. “Why aren’t you wearing anything?” She asked exasperatedly.

“I sweated a little.” He said.

“How? It’s freezing!” It was silent for a moment before Beatrice answered her own question. “You had another nightmare, didn’t you?”

Eli nodded. He hadn’t intended to bother anyone, but Bee was a light sleeper. After a few weeks of him being startled awake and waking her up too, she’d forced the answer out of him.

“What was it about?” She asked, snuggling closer. Her face pressed into his neck.

He hesitated. “I don’t remember.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. He only remembered the end. He didn’t think sharing even that would be a good idea. He doubted a nine-year-old girl would have much tolerance for horror.

She squeezed him tighter for a few seconds before letting go. “Liar.”

Eli snorted amusedly. “My big sister is too smart.”

“You’re right.” Beatrice said, laughing. “I’ve always been the sharpest of us four.”

He hummed. “Be careful not to cut yourself on that edge.”

“Where did you hear that? You didn’t come up with it yourself.” She said amusedly.

Eli giggled. “It’s a secret.”

“Like your nightmares?” Beatrice asked, prodding his side. Her tone was gentle.

“Yes.”

She stroked his hair. With their parents working, and them being four kids, it’d been her job to look after the rest. She was good at it too, showing a level of intelligence and maturity that put adults to shame. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“I don’t see the point.” He said, huffing. “Not like you can make them go away.”

Beatrice went quiet before grumbling into his ear. “You’ll feel better if you talk about it. Don’t you trust me?”

He laughed. “I do, but I won’t. Stop trying to make me feel guilty.”

“Who’s being clever now?” Beatrice asked, her frown turning into a smile. She kissed his cheek. “There’s a few hours left before we have to get up. Try to sleep a little.”

Eli made a sound of agreement, digging himself deeper into the mattress. With the fear still fresh in his mind, he doubted he’d manage, but he could close his eyes and pretend.

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After a long day, Eli took a bath with his two younger-… well, older sisters. Beatrice was the only one on his level, so he often thought of them that way. They were twins: Adelicia, shortened to Licia, and Arabella, or Bella for short.

“What’s Bee doing?” Licia asked, submerged to her chin under the water.

Bella rolled her eyes. “Helping in the kitchen. Because you didn’t want to.”

The first twin grumbled. “I helped yesterday! Besides, Mom won’t let me use a knife.”

“There’s plenty of work that doesn’t need a knife-…”

At the other end of the wooden tub, Eli sat with closed eyes. He absentmindedly listened to them quarrel. Fortunately, they were left to bathe on their own. Bathing with his sisters was embarrassing enough, but his mother washing them was even more so.

Eventually, they had to get out, since other people had to take their turn. There wasn’t anything to see—the girls could almost be mistaken for boys with their clothes off—but he averted his eyes anyway. When he was dressed, he opened the door to the living area, leaving the tittering twins behind.

“Eli! Come sit down and eat. Your sister's done with the cooking.”

Scanning their tiny attached kitchen, his gaze rested on an incredibly beautiful woman in her mid-to-late twenties. She looked as out of place in the shabby room as a piece of golden jewelry in an old wooden box.

“Mom.” He said, walking over to the table and sitting on the chair she’d pulled out for him. “Welcome back.”

The woman looked at him fondly, reaching out and ruffling his hair. She set a bowl in front of him, filled to the brim with meat and vegetables. “Thank you, baby. I’m glad to be home. Your dad’s going to be a bit late. More orders lately, or something like that.”

Eli nodded, taking the spoon hesitantly. He glanced at Beatrice, bustling around in the kitchen. She must’ve felt him looking, because she turned her head, staring at him with a twinkle in her eye. “Eat. You don’t need to wait for us. If everything’s finished before Licia and Bella show up, then it’s their fault for taking so long.”

Seeing his mom didn’t mind either, Eli blew on his spoon and took a bite. It was flavourful despite its simplicity.

He suddenly found himself appreciating his new life. Parents and siblings that loved him. A warm home. A peaceful routine. Good health when he had been a sickly child in the past. Granted, there was no magic—at least, he showed no such talent. He wasn’t a prince or a knight’s son either, but he didn’t think that kind of life was necessarily better.

He was still reflecting when his other sisters finally showed up. The place became a lot livelier, with the women chatting animatedly among themselves. Eli was content to sit and listen, slowly working his way through his portion.

Seeing him picking at his food, Bella leaned over with her spoon in hand. “Are you gonna eat that?”

“Yes.” He said leaning protectively over his bowl.

She clicked her tongue, looking to her twin to see if she could scavenge a piece of meat elsewhere. “Stingy.”

Off to the side, Beatrice gave him a smile. They were inseparable in their own right, despite a five-year age difference. At first, Eli had been a little worried about being a kid again—not getting along with those his own age and all that. Yet, on top of being just a really dependable older sister, Bee firmly occupied the spot of best friend.

Her eyes flicking to her bowl, she mouthed something. She was offering some of her food, if he was still hungry.

Eli shook his head, the corner of his lips quirking upward. He had a healthy appetite, but small as he was, there was only so much he could eat.

For a while, everyone just enjoyed each other’s company. When he’d finished, Eli got up, sitting close to the fire. He’d offered to help with the cleanup before, but was refused. His mother and sisters seemed to enjoy taking care of him.

He found himself dozing off, tired after a fitful night’s sleep. The warmth of the fireplace and its gentle crackling was like a lullaby.

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“Hey buddy.” Someone whispered. Their voice was deep and masculine. A big hand rested on Eli’s shoulder, shaking him gently.

His eyelids fluttered open, seeing a tall, well-built figure.

The man was handsome, with a short beard and cropped hair. William—his father—looked like he belonged on the cover of a DIY magazine. Not really Eli’s type, but his mom and the rest of the townswomen didn’t share his preferences.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Dad?”

“Sorry for waking you up.” William said. “But I feel like I don’t see you guys anymore. I wanted to at least say hi before you went back to sleep.”

Eli found himself smiling. “No, I’m glad you did. I don’t think I could’ve slept all the way till morning.”

His father patted his coppery hair before taking a seat next to him. They had a single stuffed sofa in the living room—a bit prickly on account of the cheap stuffing, but otherwise comfortable. “In that case, I won’t rush you off to your room.” He said, turning his eyes toward the fire. “I got what you wanted.”

He looked on with interest as his father took a wrapped parcel from somewhere, undoing the twine. A knife was revealed—simple, but well-made. His old man wasn’t a master smith, but he was pretty skilled.

Eli had considered getting him to make some useful bits and bobs they could sell. However, as a four-year-old, there was really only so much cleverness he could show. Besides, he was happy with how things were. He wouldn’t rock the boat too much.

They chatted pleasantly while he held the knife, carefully turning it this way and that. He didn’t want his poor dad to get into trouble, so he handed it back after getting a good look. “Thanks dad. I can’t wait to use it, but I don’t think mom’s going to be happy if I do.”

His father laughed. “That’s true. You’re not a reckless kid, but it’s better if I hold on to it for now.” He said, putting the knife on their rickety little table.

“I’m going to be unhappy, am I? About what? What exactly are you two up to?”

Hearing a voice coming from the hallway, they turned their heads. Speak of the devil, and she shall appear—or so the saying went. Fortunately, ol’ dad was a smooth operator, not looking the least bit guilty.

“I was just showing him a knife I made, Lily. He wanted to take a closer look, but I thought it might be a little dangerous.”

She crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. Her expression showed she didn’t believe him one bit. “Uh-huh. I’m sure you two think I’m just spoiling your fun, but Eli—you’re four-years-old. You’ll have to wait a little longer before I let you cut anything, least of all yourself.”

It wasn’t that Eli didn’t understand, but the twins were already seven, and they still weren’t allowed near anything sharp. He didn’t exactly like being coddled in that way, but he knew his mom was just being careful. There was nothing to be done.

She must’ve guessed his feelings, because she gave him an apologetic smile. Walking over to them, she seated herself on Eli’s other side. “Slow down a little, okay? You’re growing up too fast. Give your mom a bit more time with her little boy.” She said, throwing an arm over his shoulders.

Suddenly feeling bad, Eli pushed his face against her chest, giving his mom a hug. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father looking at him. His expression was similar to Lily’s—proud, but regretful at the same time.

“I’m not growing up too fast.” He mumbled, lowering his gaze. “I’ve always been like this.”

Lily hummed, gently rubbing his back. “That’s true. And your mom knows you’re not going anywhere, but I still can’t help but worry about you. It’s selfish. I should let you be more independent if you want to be.”

Eli felt his face burning. It was so damn sappy, but he was glad to hear it.

Eventually, the seriousness of the atmosphere lessened. The conversation between them resumed, chatting about menial things. Still, it was fun for Eli. He loved his siblings, but sometimes it was nice to be able to talk to his parents alone.

From the way they treated him, it was clear he was the favourite. He would’ve felt guilty if it wasn’t for his sisters not minding, and loving him just as much. Licia and Bella were a tad less intense, but they always wanted to be around him, whether it was doing chores or playing together.

Sometimes, he wondered why everyone liked him—if it was just the societal preference for boys, together with him being the youngest and only son. The thought bothered him when it cropped up, but at the same time, he didn’t really believe it.

It was a while before their talking died down. Eli wasn’t tired after his nap, but his parents had long days at work. He knew they wouldn’t mind spending more time with him, but he needed to be considerate.

“I didn’t sleep that well last night, so I’m feeling a little tired. I think I’ll go to bed.” He said, getting up.

His dad smiled at him. “Already? We were just getting started.”

“He’s still small. He needs his rest.” Lily said, swatting his arm. Leaning forward, she kissed Eli’s forehead. “Goodnight, Elias. Your mom loves you.”

“Love you two… too.”

After telling his parents goodnight, he headed down the hallway. It was short, only serving to connect the bedrooms on either side. However, to a four-year-old who barely reached his dad’s knee, everything seemed big.

He was reaching for the slightly-open bedroom door when there was a sudden knock at the front of the house.

‘Rap. Rap. Rap.’

Eli felt a vague tension in his chest. There was something about the sound that didn’t sit right with him. A bit too soft, with the pauses between a little too long. He felt words rising in his throat, wanting his parents not to answer. To act like nothing had happened.

However, his mother had already crossed the short distance to the door, his father behind her. “I wonder who it could be, stopping by this late. Were you expecting anyone?” She asked, glancing at her husband.

He didn’t answer, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Eli was relieved to see that look on his face; that his dad felt something was off too. He couldn’t see his hands, but he did notice the tabletop being cleared—the knife was gone.

The doorknob turned. The hinges creaked. The wooden panel swung slowly to one side.

Eli watched from a distance, frozen. He couldn’t see properly from this angle, but he did catch a glimpse. A man was at the door, tall and with a cloak draped over his head and shoulders. His eyes were hidden, but his clean jaw, full lips and glowing, almost golden skin stood out.

Lily stumbled, bumping against her husband. Eli couldn’t see her expression, but the stiffness of her limbs were evidence of having received a shock.

The man bowed his head under the frame, entering without an invitation. Vibrant green eyes reflected in the darkness of his hood, a halo of glinting, golden hair framing his shadowed face.

“I found you.” He said, looming over Lily, his voice dark and smooth like chocolate.

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