After bathing, Arsena took the elevator and descended to Deck K-11.
The lower decks of the Throne of Shadow'a Sovereignty were unlike those of most void ships, where common crew struggled in filth and poverty. They were not spotless, but Deck K-11 was an exception, its floor was paved with marble, its air clear, faintly perfud with incense.
Clad in a black robe, Arsena walked forward until his gaze fell upon the obsidian altar at the deck's center.
The altar asured precisely 11.11 ters in diater and 3.3 ters in height.
Via the "Student of Ratiocination" potion he had learned of such symbolic numbers hidden in binary stones and Primarch-ordered constructions. Thus, he deliberately employed them in the altar's design.
Ascending its thirty-three steps, Arsena reached the top. The ritual items were already arranged, yet he carefully inspected each one.
To his left stood a black iron balance scale; to his right, the Iron Laws of Monarchs. Everything was in its proper place. He approached the candelabrum, holding his palm over the wicks, rubbing until sparks of spirituality lit the candles.
One by one he ignited eleven candles, so upright, so inverted. Then he drew from his robe a ritual dagger.
Raising it high, he spoke in the occult tongue that bore his family's na:
"I consecrate you, ritual blade!"
"I purify you, that you may serve in this rite!"
"In the na of the Black Emperor, you are sanctified!"
Spiritual force flared from the dagger's tip. Arsena began circling the altar, invisible power spilling outward.
When the circuit was complete, the Reasoning Apprentice opened his spirit-sight. He saw a wall of spirituality rise around him, excluding all impurity.
He inhaled deeply and sank into the Thelema ditation that Nareth had recently taught him. His body, mind, and soul grew still. Kneeling upon a black onyx cushion, he began reciting the invocation in Dunnic:
"Black Emperor of the Shadows of Order,
Mysterious Sovereign of the Kingdom of Disorder,
Monarch of Light and Shadow, who governs and holds the rules."
"I beseech Thy gaze."
"I beseech Thy favor."
"I beseech Thee, grant the mystery of fla, that I may wield greater power."
"O Balance, foundation of the Kingdom of Disorder, grant strength to my invocation.
"O Iron Laws of Monarchs, basis of the Kingdom of Disorder, grant strength to my invocation."
From Nareth's dossiers, Arsena knew that fla was a potent weapon against Orks, destroying not only their bodies but their spores. The Fra'al fla-rites had yielded him little, but once Nareth had explained the principles of ritual magic, Arsena had resolved to seek the mystery of fire.
No sooner had he finished the prayer than a wind stirred inside the sealed barrier. On a void ship's closed deck, this was impossible, unnatural.
At that very mont in the Throne of Shadow's Sovereignty palace, Nareth paused over his duties. Faint murmurs reached his ears, irritating, unbidden.
Whispers echoed in his skull; his temples throbbed until the sound abruptly ceased. The annoyance faded.
'Arsena is performing ritual magic.'
With a thought, Nareth entered the Kingdom of Disorder.
In its shadowed expanse he saw a sphere of pure white light, pulsing faintly, expanding and contracting in rhythm. Extending his spirituality toward it, visions flooded his mind, distorted images, overlapping voices:
"Black Emperor of the Shadows of Order,"
Mysterious Sovereign of the Kingdom of Disorder, "
.....
"I beseech Thee, grant the mystery of fla, that I may wield greater power."
.....
"O Balance, foundation of the Kingdom of Disorder, grant strength to my invocation."
….
"O Iron Laws of Monarchs, basis of the Kingdom of Disorder, grant strength to my invocation."
It was Arsena's voice, echoing endlessly.
For a heartbeat, irritation gnawed at him, but Nareth ascended instantly into the first layer of Thelema mindstate, regaining calm.
He beheld the vision more clearly: Arsena, silver-haired, robed in black, kneeling before flickering candles, bowing reverently as he repeated the invocation.
Joy flickered in Nareth's eyes. His experintal ritual formula had worked; it pointed precisely to the Kingdom of Disorder, to himself.
'Success.'
He then focused on Arsena's plea, the mystery of fla.
The Fraao data-crystals on firecraft had already been given to Arsena. Nareth himself had never pursued the matter deeply.
'To maintain the Black Emperor's majesty, I must grant him sothing.'
He recalled fragnts from Slau Dha's Path of the Fire Dragon, a warrior tradition that venerated fla as the embodint of Khaine's blood-lust and destruction. From his stolen mories he had learned the thod of drawing the Fire Dragon rune.
Those who walked the path carved these runes upon staves and blades; without psychic power they ant nothing. But when outlined in psychic fla, the rune granted fire's strength.
It was true the rune originated from shrines of Khaine. Would passing it on endanger Arsena?
Nareth pondered. Khaine, unlike the Laughing God Cegorach, who escaped, and unlike Isha, taken by Nurgle, had been shattered, his soul devoured by Slaanesh. Moreover, the Fire Dragon tradition was founded later by Fuegan, disciple of Asurn, and its link to Khaine was tenuous.
'Safe enough.'
Resolute, he traced the rune in thought and pressed the thod into the white light.
On Deck K-11, black mist rose within Arsena's mind. A vague shadow stood deep within, and from the darkness a fiery rune blossod. The thod of its carving imprinted itself into his consciousness.
Arsena's silver eyes widened. As an Aether-master, he knew the feel of psychic transmissions, and this was not it. No warp, no thought-speech, no psychic dium. It had pierced his defenses and inscribed the knowledge directly.
'I prayed to the Black Emperor… and was answered! The Black Emperor is indeed a godlike being. If Lord Nareth is the Black Emperor, then his granting power to his chosen children makes perfect sense…'
He gathered his thoughts, bowed deeply, and said in Dunnic:
"Thank You, my Lord, for Your gift."
After kneeling a while longer, he rose and used the ritual dagger to tear open the invisible barrier.
Erging from Deck K-11, he instructed his confidant and captain of the enforcers:
"Seal off Deck K-11. No one is to enter."
He knew well the Imperium's current enforcent of Imperial Truth forbade worship of the Black Emperor. None could be allowed to know, for Lord Nareth's sake.
'If Lord Nareth truly is the Black Emperor, perhaps this is why he never declares it openly.'
Within the Kingdom of Disorder, Nareth severed the link, thoughtful.
'What will Thomas pray for? The Seeker of Secrets is likely to ask for occult knowledge. Even if I cannot fulfill it, I have the Dice of Prophecy charged and ready. I could use it to divine Catachan, as planned.'
Another idea sparked:
'If prayer can reach , perhaps this allows real-ti interstellar communication.'
Astropathic communication was slow, often garbled, vulnerable to warp storms. This thod might allow him to commune instantly with his inner circle, Howard Find and others, or secretly with hidden assets like Tierney the Trickster and Maria Kournikova the Assassin.
'And if sacrifice can also be made this way… my treasure-hunters could deliver their finds to at once.'
His thoughts raced through possibilities before he returned to the waking world.
Two days later, he received reports: Sanchez had cleansed the Orks of Seventh Plant, securing victory over Enoch's challenge.
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