Warhammer 40k : Space Marine Kayvaan

Kayvaan nodded. "I know. But knowing doesn't solve the problem. What can I do? This power isn't something I can control. It's beyond me—beyond any human, I think. Even the most disciplined psykers would struggle against this."

Rosina's gaze was unwavering as she replied, "Under normal circumstances, you'd be right. The power of Chaos isn't meant to be mastered by mortals. Your fate would be sealed—you'd be consumed. But these aren't normal circumstances."

Kayvaan turned to her, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're not alone in this. I have a method—something I can teach you. If you follow it, you can suppress this power and learn to control it."

"I don't quite understand," Kayvaan admitted, his gaze narrowing.

"You have some understanding of my people, so let me simplify it," Rosina began, her tone calm but firm. "The foundation of all Eldar civilization is spiritual energy. In terms of mastery over this power, there's no race in the galaxy—aside from the Warp-spawned daemons—that surpasses the Eldar. But unlike humans, our emotions are far more intense. We love with the fury of a wildfire and hate with the venom of a serpent. Our emotions are like sudden storms—unpredictable and unstoppable. This intensity often leads us to do terrible things in moments of impulse, and such volatile emotions make controlling our spiritual energy dangerous." 

She paused briefly before continuing, "To prevent us from self-destruction, we developed the Path. There are many Paths: the Path of the Warrior, the Path of the Artisan, the Path of the Seer, the Path of the Performer—countless others. But they all share one core principle: control. Control over oneself, over one's emotions, and over the power we wield. The Path exists to ensure that reason rules over chaos, that impulse does not consume us."

Kayvaan arched an eyebrow. "And you're going to teach me the secret of your Path? Isn't that a closely guarded secret of your people?"

"You're correct," Rosina said bluntly. "The Path is sacred to us. While some outside our race might know of its existence, the deeper truths and the way to walk the Path are hidden. This knowledge isn't something we share lightly."

"Then why share it now?"

Rosina's voice softened. "Because I have no choice. This is the only way to save Syladria's life. If revealing this secret means protecting her, I will do so without hesitation."

Kayvaan smirked, his tone laced with irony. "The Path doesn't seem to work very well on you. I don't see much reason in your actions."

Rosina's lips curled into a wry smile. "True. The Path cannot suppress my love for her. No matter how much I practice, I cannot quench it. My reason tells me it's foolish, that it will only lead to ruin. But some things defy logic. I've made mistakes, and I know my fate may be bleak, but I have no regrets. Funny, isn't it? I never thought I'd admit these things to anyone, let alone to you."

Kayvaan shook his head, dismissing the personal confession. "You should save honesty for your enemies, not your lovers. Now tell me—can this Path really help me control the power within me?"

Rosina's expression turned serious. "I don't know," she admitted. "But it's the only chance we have. We have no other options."

To Kayvaan, the Eldar Path seemed like nothing more than a sophisticated way to describe a system of skills. It was as if the Eldar had elevated the pursuit of mastery to a life philosophy. Each Path provided a complete framework for living, from the rare and mystical Path of the Seer to the mundane yet vital Path of the Artisan.

It reminded Kayvaan of the stories he'd heard about ancient martial arts. To truly master their techniques, one didn't just learn the physical skills; they embraced an entire way of life, often becoming ascetics and dedicating themselves fully to a code of discipline. Still, Kayvaan remained skeptical. "I'm not optimistic about this," he muttered.

"I don't expect you to fully understand the Path," Rosina replied sharply. "And I cannot give you the entire philosophy—it's not just a skill; it's a way of life, a supreme pursuit of balance and control. You, a human, cannot live by its tenets. But there are fragments of it I can share, enough to help you suppress the chaos within."

Kayvaan sighed. "I'm not really in a position to argue. What's the catch?"

Rosina's tone turned cold. "You must take an oath. Not a simple one—I don't trust humans. This will be a psychic oath, binding you to your word. A lock will form in your soul, a manifestation of your promise. If you break it, the lock will trigger a psychic explosion powerful enough to obliterate an entire city—and you along with it."

Kayvaan considered her words carefully. "And what exactly is this oath?"

"You must swear that you will never harm Syladria or me, that you will never become our enemy. We may never be allies, but we will not be foes."

Kayvaan frowned. "And if you attack me?"

"The oath is mutual," Rosina explained. "If we betray you, the bond will dissolve."

After a moment's thought, Kayvaan nodded. "Fine. Let's begin." The ritual was complex. First, Kayvaan swore the oath in Gothic, repeating it in the Eldar tongue. Rosina guided the process, weaving psychic energy into the fabric of his being. As the ceremony progressed, a spectral chain formed in Kayvaan's mindscape, encircling the fortress at his core. Once the oath was sealed, the chain faded.

Rosina then retrieved the inheritance stone. Her expression was heavy as she activated it, releasing the soul of an ancient Eldar martial master. The spirit flared to life, its presence radiating knowledge and power. But before it could manifest fully, the darkness within Kayvaan surged violently. The corrupting force of Slaanesh consumed the ancient hero's soul in an instant, obliterating its consciousness, ideals, and emotions. All that remained was a pure repository of skills and experience, now absorbed into Kayvaan.

In that moment, something changed, his senses sharp, as though he was in a new world. Everything looked different—more vivid, more detailed. He sighed heavily, muttering, "So, this is what an Eldar inheritance feels like. It's not at all what I imagined."

Before this, Kayvaan had no real understanding of the Eldar's mysterious ways. Now, with the knowledge and skills of an ancient martial master imprinted into his mind, he understood their Path far better than even Rosina might have intended.

Eldar inheritance wasn't meant to work this way. Typically, a student would learn gradually, moving through years of training and discipline. Only after reaching mastery on the Path would they be exposed to the essence of an ancient's soul. Summoning such a soul prematurely, without proper preparation, was dangerous—deadly even. For most, the power would tear them apart. Rosina's gamble had been reckless, a desperate move that could have gone horribly wrong.

Rosina's face paled as she noticed the change in Kayvaan. "I… I had no other choice," she stammered, though she tried to force a smile. "You're not an ordinary human, Kayvaan. Surely you see that. But even if you're angry, don't forget—the oath is bound to your soul. You can't harm me."