Warhammer: I'm not your Dad! Chapter 73 73: “Caelan, are you asleep? I can’t sleep.”

When night fell, Caelan lted a basin of snow to wash his face.

Sylvia, now towering three ters tall at the shoulder, affectionately pushed her enormous wolf muzzle into his arms. She made a pleased rumbling sound as Caelan wiped her face with a towel made from reindeer fur.

"Caelan," ca a low voice from outside the tent not long after they'd lain down. "Are you asleep? I can't sleep."

"Co in."

When Leman Russ lifted the hide flap, a gust of icy wind and snow swept in. His tall fra nearly filled the doorway.

His eyes lingered briefly between Caelan and Sylvia, then dropped. His throat bobbed, and finally he said in a deep voice, "We need to talk. It's important."

Seeing his serious expression, Caelan sat up, equally solemn. "Go ahead, Russ. What happened?"

"It's… not that sothing happened."

Russ's fingers unconsciously traced the notch in his battle axe, as if the sharp edge might cut through whatever emotion he couldn't bring himself to voice.

After a long silence, he forced out a few words: "Mother… could you please step outside for a mont?"

Sylvia was a she-wolf with no blood relation to him. But when she had found him freezing in the wild, she hadn't torn him apart to feed her pups. Instead, she had brought him back to her den, shared food and warmth, and kept him alive with her fur.

If not for Sylvia, Caelan would have found only a frozen corpse.

Sylvia wasn't his birth mother, but her love surpassed any biological bond. She'd raised wolf pups that weren't her own, had no milk to give, and yet risked her life to hunt alone in the frozen wastes.

Like the mother wolf in the Roman legend Caelan had once told him, Sylvia's devotion had been greater than that of many human mothers.

Even if she hadn't been able to save them all, it would never have been her fault; she had done her duty as a mother.

That's why Russ had always called her Mother, never with sha, only with pride. He would even proudly introduce her before human warriors.

But tonight, what he found hard to say was sothing else.

Sylvia let out a low growl, brushed her wet muzzle affectionately against Caelan's cheek, then rubbed her soft fur against Russ's hand before quietly padding into the night.

The tent flap lifted, and she found herself facing a dozen glowing green eyes, her brood.

Two-ter-tall young wolves crowded the entrance, their wet noses almost poking inside.

Russ had thought they were asleep, but he'd forgotten that Fenrisian wolves slept like thin ice in early spring, fragile and easily disturbed.

When he slipped out earlier, he had roused them all. They had followed in silence, holding their breath like mischievous shadows.

Sylvia stepped before them like a silver-gray wall, growling softly as she nudged each furry head with her nose, pushing them gently but firmly back into the shadows.

Only when their curious stares faded did Russ finally feel the prickling on his back ease.

He knew those sounds all too well, the crunch of breaking twigs, the soft shift of snow under padded feet. He'd known they were following, just as they knew he'd noticed.

Letting Sylvia leave was also his way of sending them off.

His wolf brothers might not understand, but their mother did.

"Can we talk now?" Caelan asked.

Russ's throat worked as conflicting emotions swirled in his eyes. His lips trembled like leaves in the wind; he opened his mouth several tis but couldn't speak.

"Should I step out instead?" Caelan offered.

"No. I have sothing to say to you." Russ's voice rumbled like thunder under ice. He took heavy steps forward, each one dragging an invisible chain.

When he finally stopped an arm's length away, that unseen chain grew taut.

"I'm sorry."

Russ swallowed hard, as if forcing down barbed steel. The words should have lightened him, but Caelan's silence only made the weight heavier.

Russ's breath ca out in visible puffs. "Aren't you angry? You told the story of Kratos and Atreus for this mont, didn't you?"

Caelan t his tense gaze, realizing Russ had misunderstood. He spoke gently. "I love you too."

Russ blinked, then laughed in disbelief. "That's your response?"

Caelan thought for a mont. "You haven't said those three words yet. Should we start over?"

Russ's face hardened. "Too late. You missed your chance."

Caelan smiled faintly. "Doesn't matter. The feeling's mutual."

Had the feeling reached its peak? Russ thought so, but sohow, it made him even more uncomfortable.

"Let's sit and talk properly," Caelan suggested, gesturing to the fur-covered cot. Russ sat heavily, still scowling.

"I should clarify," Caelan began. "I've never had any resentnt toward you. Not once."

"Then why…" Russ stopped. He wanted to ask why Caelan had hesitated to na him, but then rembered: he had refused the na himself, misreading Caelan's hesitation.

And now Caelan was saying the truth had been completely different.

"Why did you hesitate back then?" he asked at last.

He could have let it go; no one else knew, after all. But now that the question had escaped, he couldn't take it back.

Caelan's eyes widened slightly. "Ah, so that's what's been bothering you." He sighed softly. "Your na, Leman Russ, I saw it in a possible future. In that future, it was given by Thengir, who killed Sylvia and took you in. I hesitated because I knew that."

"That's all?" Russ's tense face relaxed into a grin.

He'd held onto that for so long, for this? How stupid. How stupid they both were.

"And what did you think?" Caelan asked, curious.

Russ didn't answer. The silence said enough.

Then Russ asked quietly, "My brothers, Curze and Lorgar… you often speak of them. Did you na them, too?"

Caelan shook his head. "Curze knew his na from birth. Lorgar's was given by the nomads who found him."

"So only mine was given by you."

"I told you, it was Thengir in that tiline."

"I didn't see that future," Russ said slowly. "In mine, you gave my na. He's not my father, you are. If your version is true, then Thengir must die for killing my mother. Is that what you want?"

A feral glint flickered in his eyes. Even without murderous intent, Caelan could tell, if he said yes, Russ would tear Thengir's throat out without hesitation.

"Russ… that's a bit extre," Caelan sighed.

"I'm still growing," Russ muttered blankly.

Caelan chuckled. "Fine. Let's not dwell on futures that haven't happened."

"You asked if I told you the story of Kratos and Atreus for a reason," Caelan said. "That's also a misunderstanding. I told the sa story to all three of you, Curze, Lorgar, and you. The story isn't about people, it's about gods."

"From Greek to Norse myths, you never speak kindly of gods," Russ said. "You wanted to see the danger in divinity. Why?"

"Did my brothers ask the sa question?"

"No," Caelan admitted.

Russ frowned. "So only I did."

"Gods are real, and dangerous," Caelan said calmly. "Your father didn't want you to know about them. But I want you to understand them. Only by knowing can you resist."

"Why?" Russ pressed.

"So you can fight them better."

"I understand," Russ said slowly. "But… why didn't they ask?"

Caelan finally realized Russ was focused on sothing else entirely.

"Their worlds were different," he said. "Curze was born on Nostramo, a hive world ruled by cri. He sought justice and order, so he never asked why; he just acted. The gods offered no help to that kind of justice."

"Lorgar was born on Colchis, a world poisoned by religion. When I told him those myths, he saw the cruelty of the gods and turned against them completely."

Caelan's gaze grew distant, lost in mory.

He still wasn't sure if Lorgar's conviction ca from true understanding or blind faith in him. But he believed in them both, just the sa.

"Why did you never tell about them before?" Russ asked.

"Because every ti I did, you turned away like you didn't want to hear it. I can't force you to listen."

Russ grunted. "Their worlds were cruel. So is mine."

"Fenris is cruel, yes," Caelan said softly. "But you're lucky, you have a good mother. That already puts you ahead of most of your brothers."

"Except who?"

"Roboute Guilliman. He, too, had a great mother."

Russ rembered the na. He had a mother. And so did he.

Even if Sylvia was a wolf, she was, and would always be, his mother.

As for his birth parents… his father was the Emperor, whom Caelan had often spoken of. But his birth mother, Caelan, had never ntioned her. Maybe she'd never existed.

Even if she had, she could never replace Sylvia.

"Our misunderstandings cleared up, then?" Caelan asked.

"For now," Russ said, standing. "I hope we can always speak so openly."

"Whenever you wish," Caelan smiled.

"You treat differently from my brothers, don't you?" Russ asked suddenly.

Caelan nodded. "People aren't machines. You can't apply the sa formula to everyone. Each Primarch is different, so my way of teaching must adapt."

"So you've been indulging all this ti?"

"It's not indulgence. It's my choice."

"I'm grateful," Russ said. "But I'm not saying thank you."

He'd said thank you to Caelan enough tis. From now on, he wouldn't.

People only thank strangers. Their bond was stronger than that, and always would be.

Caelan smiled. "That's fine, "

Before he could finish, Russ stepped forward and hugged him.

"So… I love you, Father."

The embrace was sudden, almost fierce, but incredibly gentle, as if afraid his strength might break Caelan.

Before Caelan could react, Russ released him and turned away, striding out into the cold.

The tent flap lifted, and Russ's face bumped into Sylvia's wet nose. Warm wolf breath washed over him.

He'd moved too fast; she hadn't had ti to dodge.

In the shadows behind her, the young wolves peeked out, eyes wide. Selfish mother, they thought. She gets to watch, but we can't.

"I love you too, Mom."

Russ pressed his forehead gently to Sylvia's muzzle, then slipped away before she could see his expression.

"And you lot, back to bed!"

The sound of scrambling paws followed. The massive Fenrisian wolves tried to hide their enormous bodies in the shadows, but their ears and tails wagging in the torchlight made the human guards laugh quietly.

When Caelan ca out, he heard Sylvia's tail swishing happily through the snow.

He sighed and waved her over. "Co on, Sylvia. Back inside."

She bounded over and nuzzled into his arms.

"Russ… child… like… many, very many babies!" she said, her tail wagging hopefully.

"Humans and wolves can't breed. Stop dreaming and go to sleep."

Caelan tapped her muzzle lightly. The hope in Sylvia's golden eyes dimd, her ears drooping as she flopped down like a giant furry fortress collapsing into the snow.

She rolled onto her back, paws in the air, belly up, pretending to sulk pitifully.

"Playing cute won't work," Caelan said. "This isn't the ti of Earth, it's Terra."

"the Season of Fire has co."

Thengir watched the horizon. The glaciers were lting under the sun, cracking with the death cries of ancient beasts.

The warriors' eyes reflected a collapsing blue world, their expressions heavy with worry.

Every Season of Fire was a disaster. No matter how much they prepared, they could never escape it.

The Russ tribe was loading all supplies onto massive dragon-ships. There were too many people, no single vessel could hold them all.

So they would sail in a great fleet, thousands of ships carrying the tribe and everything they owned, setting out before the ice lted completely.

They would not go far, first they would see if their holand would sink. If not, they would return after the earthquakes and floods passed. If it did, they would seek new lands.

Most ships weren't made of wood, wooden ships rotted quickly and were too small. Instead, they hunted giant sea beasts in sumr, crafting ships from bone and hide.

Crude, yes, but light, fast, easy to build, and their only hope of survival.

Thengir turned to his people. "We must go. May the ancestors protect us."