Eldrad was having a very bad time. His mind, his brilliant and powerful mind, capable of looking into the strands of fate, predicting the future, and staring into the Warp, now felt worse than it had at any point in his almost 10,000 years of existence.
The Blanks were the worst thing he had ever seen. Naturally, he knew of them; he knew how terrible they were and couldn't understand why the Emperor had chosen to keep them around.
In that moment, Eldrad remembered the words of Farseer Lithandros-Esmanthil.
'It is a creature of utter abhorrence; of near unspeakable horror to me. Only the Humans could spawn such a creature, so debased are they, so lacking in breeding. Yet even they, as crude and blind as they are, can see this creature, this thing, for what it truly is, though they have no real understanding of its inexistence.
I know more about this alien fiend than they do. I know why it is a soulless monstrosity, for I have spoken to the Solitaires who know so well about such things, about the stealing of spirits from bodies that yet live on.
It is unnatural, for it is not of the Chaos that binds all things together. It has no life in the Otherworld; it has no existence except in the physical. It is a dead thing that thinks and breathes, a most hideous abomination.
Even the Humans who tolerate the stench and squalor of their own kind cannot bear this monster. Ungifted as they are, their latent psychic powers, of which they understand so little, warn them of the danger they pose. Their skin crawls with nameless dread, their stomach churns with subconscious loathing. Yet this is but a slight reaction compared to the disgust I feel when I consider its non-existence.
They try to control it with their clumsy technology, using devices which they barely comprehend, to guard others against the hungering maw which serves as the abomination's spirit. To even consider harnessing such unpleasant freaks of creation is to invite disaster.
I would laugh at the irony of it, were it not so offensive – the humans hunt and kill those with the gift, fearing for their safety, when their true nemesis, the real creature which will be their doom, is nurtured upon their bosom... How Human that is.
This thing stalks me now, and I, I who have seen the birth of stars and the death of galaxies, I am afraid.'
- Eldar Farseer Lithandros-Esmanthil
...
Eldrad could now fully understand what Lithandros meant. He stood in front of not one, not two and not even three, but four of such abominations and as the most powerful Farseer by far, the effect on him was so much worse that he couldn't move or think straight. He wanted to leave, to run, to hide, to destroy those things...
It was the worst existential dread he had ever felt in his entire life. And that meant something, as he knew the Emperor of Mankind and lived with 'She-who-thirsts' having a hand on his soul at all times.
While Eldrad felt the worst and was about to drop dead, the other Eldari weren't doing that much better. The sheer dread and soul-shock the presence of the Sisters of Silence caused them was mind-boggling.
In that moment, Gerhard chose to act in a show of goodwill.
He moved his equilibrium and embraced his growing psychic might fully. His eyes suddenly shone golden, and the air around him rippled with energy and power. A mixture of bright golden and azure Mana intertwined and spread from him.
The presence of the four Blanks was contained, and using the secret knowledge he had 'extracted' from the Lord of Change, as well as his own limitless ingenuity, he created a form of psychic-Mana buffer around them that lay gently on them.
Truthfully, Gerhard enjoyed seeing the arrogant Eldar, who used humans as meat shields and still saw themselves as so much better than anyone, this way and couldn't care less about them. But he understood the need to show them the way through the Webway and reach the Macragge system. So a small show of good faith wasn't against his principles.
The effect was immediate. The Eldari who looked even paler than usual, and were about to drop dead or attack out of sheer existential anger and dread, now looked better.
Eldrad took several deep breaths and stared at Gerhard. He hadn't foreseen him arriving here; he hadn't seen anything about him and didn't know who that was. But he felt the power he wielded, and it reminded him so much of the Emperor. But there was another 'flavour' to the power he felt. Something he had never seen or felt...
He needed to pay more attention to him. There was intelligence in his eyes, unlike any of the other mon'keighs. In the short span he had seen him, he had already studied everyone around, and for some reason, Eldrad had a feeling that he understood their highly nuanced way of communication. Even the non-verbal ones.
The Eldar and Humans finally walked into the Webway, closing the gate after them, to bar Chaos from reaching them.
As they stood there, the tension was at an all-time high. Both sides seemed as though they were about to reach for their weapons and attack.
All except Gerhard and Celestine, that was. These two knew that they had bigger things to do and places to be.
Autarch Meliniel was the first to act. The Eldar Farseers, in the humans' minds, were known as manipulators and liars, and the Drukhari as evil incarnate. A warrior, Meliniel reckoned, they might just listen to.
"I know you feel hatred for our kind," the former commander of the Biel-Tan Craftworld said to the human leaders.
"You have a good reason for it. But just as your million far-flung worlds each have their own culture, we too are a fractured people. You should look upon that element that would see both Humanity and Eldar escape their doom."
"We see pampered peacocks and depraved fiends," spat Inquisitor Greyfax.
Saint Celestine shot her a reprimanding glance, but the statement hung in the air, unretracted.
Meliniel cast his gaze at the strange acolytes of Ynnead beside him, then at Gerhard, who observed for now, before turning to regard Greyfax.
"I thought so too, at first. My people have reason to fear the unknown more than most. But these visionaries are agents of destiny and hope," Meliniel said, pointing at the Ynnari around them.
"Your Saint and I share the same goals," said Yvraine, the leader of the Yannari.
Her voice was quiet but steady and sure. She had such unnatural grace that was normal for Aeldari of ancient times, but so foreign to humans at present.
"Even if she has yet to fully understand exactly what those goals are."
"We know what the goal is. Don't presume to stand so far above us when the force you have here is about 5% of your remaining race. That's what Inquisitor Greyfax means when she calls you arrogant," Gerhard said.
The Eldari leaders looked at Gerhard, and even Greyfax looked at the most unknown variable with slightly new eyes.
"We would see your pilgrimage to completion. We mean no disrespect," Meliniel said.
"You Eldar twist fate," Greyfax said, "and only ever in your own selfish interests."
"Not only that, you use humans as meat shields against the Ruinous Powers, not hesitating in the slightest," Gerhard added.
"Now you stand above us? Have you, humans, never done such acts of deprivation?" Eldrad asked. "We live our lives constantly in danger of 'She-who-thirsts'."
"I don't claim that we haven't done anything wrong. But you are at fault for your situation. And I think you, in particular, should know this. You were there when it happened, no?"
"Perhaps," Meliniel replied, nodding. "But there is only one thread that leads to salvation, and it is tenuous indeed. Our mutual enemies are ascendant as we speak. Look above you."
None of the Imperials took their eyes off the Eldar. They knew what the Eldar meant—the Great Rift.
"I know the sight well enough," Celestine interjected. "The Warp rift is a nasty and infected wound. We must prevent it from growing any worse."
"Enough of your riddles and platitudes," Greyfax retorted, her upper lip curled in disdain. "Why are you here, Xenos?"
"Because your desire to deny the end of all things outweighs your unreasoning hatred," Meliniel explained. "This is a crux point of fate. We believe that here, by casting a stone amongst the snows, we can start an avalanche that will quench the flames of Chaos."
"The Dark Gods rise," Yvraine explained. "We must rise higher to cast them down."
She gestured toward the Triaros Conveyor, which Belisarius Cawl stood next to and which he had been protecting the entire time.
"This contains hope. The lord it belongs to will be a powerful symbol for your people; he will oppose the Ruinous Powers and turn back the encroaching darkness."
The Visarch stepped forward to stand at Yvraine's shoulder. He had a commanding, powerful presence. His tall stature, combined with the impeccable armour and sword, created an image of a very dangerous yet elegant individual.
"And he will not be alone in that fight," he said.
"You have won yourselves an hour," Greyfax said sternly. "Convince us, or die."
.
The first hour of the parley passed, then the second, and the third. The atmosphere in the Webway was thick with a sense of history in the making. And it truly was history about to be made, since the supporting voice of both Celestine and Gerhard would see the Eldar's view of humans elevated.
Gerhard, especially, was interesting to the Eldar leaders. Eldrad Ulthran noticed the poise and weight of his presence had on fate itself. He also saw no prejudice towards the Eldar, despite his earlier words that they were at fault for the creation of Slaanesh.
And he wasn't wrong.
By the time the cold light of Klasius's sun had settled and the day outside the Webway had come to an end, the Eldar and the humans had come closer to an understanding than their races had ever achieved.
This would be the first step toward a closer relationship among some of them. Not the wider Imperium, but two individuals in particular.
The two most logical existences in the galaxy will soon meet.
After the Eldar had spoken, the Imperial leaders consulted among themselves.
"My visions have led us here. And I know that the Emperor did not lead us off a dying world and towards Klaisus only for us to falter at the threshold," Celestine said, her eyes sweeping over the gathered commanders. "The arrival of the Ynnari was no mere stroke of luck; it was woven into the fate of this crusade. And now, we stand here with Gerhard, another who carries the Emperor's light. To meet him here, under these circumstances, is the final proof we need."
She looked toward the Eldari and around the Webway, where the shimmering lights painted a rather lovely picture. There was a mystery to it that was both revolting to heavily indoctrinated humans and wonderful to those with open minds.
"Our path is clear. We go to Macragge. It is the destination Saint Gerhard seeks, and it is where we also must go. There are no coincidences in the Emperor's design."
She turned to Belisarius Cawl, whose lenses whirred as he processed her words.
"The auto-relinquery you carry, Archmagos... it must reach its destination. The fate of the Imperium depends on it."
Cawl offered a slow, mechanical nod, his vocal synthesiser emitting a low, binharic clics of agreement.
Inquisitor Greyfax tightened her grip on her power sword, her face a mask of frozen suspicion, which was a job requirement as an Inquisitor of the Ordo Hereticus.
"I do not like this alliance," she spat, her gaze flicking toward the silent Eldar warriors. "The Xenos are treacherous by nature. But..." she paused, her pragmatism fighting with her hatred. "Our task and need are greater than our spite. If this 'Webway' is the only road to Macragge, then we walk it. We shall use them as they seek to use us. But mark my words: once the mission is complete, there will be a reckoning for every Xenos soul here."
Marshal Amalrich of the Black Templars stood like a statue of black iron. His hand rested on the hilt of his Power Sword. The urge to purge the Xenos and do the Emperor's will was clearly burned in his chest. However, he looked toward Gerhard, seeing the way the man who was clearly a Saint had tended to the wounds of his Battle-Brothers, mending flesh that should have been fatal and claimed them soon, through the Black Legion's fire.
For the first time, he wondered whether his mission might be directed elsewhere. He was more certain than ever that Gerhard was following the Emperor's steps.
"I see the Emperor's light in you, Lord Gerhard," Amalrich rumbled, his voice a deep, powerful growl. "You have healed my brothers and everyone else among us. You stand beside a warrior of the Adeptus Custodes and the Sisters of Silence, the Emperor's own Talons. If they whom the Emperor have blessed command us to sheathe our blades in this situation, we shall obey."
With a sharp metallic clack, he sheathed his sword.
"Templars! Lower your weapons. For now, the Xenos live."
Lencillus shifted his large guardian spear. His presence was overwhelming to some, a literal fragment of the Emperor's majesty standing before them.
"Captain-General Trajann Valoris charged me with this duty. The vision came from the Golden Throne itself. If Gerhard's path leads to Macragge, then that is where the light of the Emperor guided him and where I shall follow. If the Xenos provide the road, let them. I care not for their lives, only that the Master of Mankind's will is done. We move for the capital of Ultramar."
It was agreed: the Imperials would accept the aid of the Eldar, placing themselves in their complete trust. In truth, they had little option; to stray into the endless maze of the Webway unguided was among the worst of follies, as the Dark Eldar who hadn't joined the Ynnari were still around, and if they found them, it would be a terrible end.
The Ynnari delegation promised they would make good speed, outpacing the Chaos Space Marines that pursued them and ensuring the Archmagos Dominus's precious cargo remained intact.