Rae van Daleon – The Roots of the Storm
by Lea von Löwenstein
Chapter 66: Wounds and Whispers
The medical transport hummed as it cut through the morning air, its interior filled with the sharp scent of antiseptic and the metallic tang of blood. Rae sat beside Alric’s stretcher, her hand resting lightly on his arm while medicae personnel worked around them. The rest of the team crowded nearby, their faces drawn with exhaustion and worry.
“Blood pressure stabilising,” one of the medicae muttered, adjusting the field infusion unit attached to Alric’s arm. “Keep him still during landing.”
Return to the Scola
The Scola’s imposing silhouette grew larger as they approached. Already, Rae could see increased activity around the medical wing—teams of staff rushing to prepare for their arrival. The morning sun cast long shadows across the ancient stones, making the building seem more fortress than school.
“Multiple trauma teams standing by,” Tyren reported, reading from his cogitator’s display. “They’ve cleared the entire medical wing.”
Marcus hadn’t spoken since they’d boarded, his massive frame hunched protectively near Alric’s head. His hands, still stained with his friend’s blood, clenched and unclenched rhythmically.
The Landing
The transport touched down with practiced precision on the medical pad. Before the engines had fully wound down, teams of medical staff swarmed the craft, their movements precise and coordinated.
“Move, move!” a senior medicae barked, directing the stretcher’s removal. “Theatre One is prepped. Get him there now!”
Rae tried to follow, but a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned to find Sister Verena, the normally stern woman’s face showing rare concern.
“Let them work,” she said softly. “You need attention too.”
Assessment and Care
The team was ushered into a separate section of the medical wing. Servitors and medicae moved among them, checking for signs of Warp taint or physical injury. Rae winced as gentle hands probed her bruised ribs where the psyker’s attack had struck.
“Nothing broken,” the examining medicae announced, “but the bruising is severe. You’ll need rest.”
Celestine sat nearby, allowing a servitor to clean a gash on her arm she hadn’t even noticed receiving. Soren stood by the window, his crossbow finally lowered but still within reach. Tyren worked at his cogitator, compiling their encounter data while a medicae checked him for concussion.
Kael’s Warning
Inquisitor Kael entered the room, her damaged armour now removed, though her bolt pistol remained at her hip. Her face was grave as she surveyed the young team.
“What you faced today,” she began, her voice low but carrying clearly, “was merely a taste of what we’re dealing with. This Prescriptor, whoever they are, has corrupted others. There will be more like that psyker.”
“How many?” Rae asked, her voice hoarse.
“Unknown,” Kael admitted. “But they’re here, in the Scola. Hidden. Waiting. What happened in the forest was no random attack—it was coordinated, planned. They knew we’d come for you.”
The Weight of Truth
A heavy silence fell over the room. The implications were clear: nowhere was truly safe. The Scola itself, their home and sanctuary, harboured enemies willing to use the Warp’s corruption against them.
“What about Alric?” Marcus finally spoke, his voice rough with emotion.
“The best medicae teams are working on him,” Kael assured. “But his recovery will take time. And you…” she looked at each of them in turn, “you all need rest. Real rest. The war isn’t over, but you’ve earned a moment’s peace.”
A Quiet Moment
As the others were led away to rest chambers, Rae lingered. “Inquisitor,” she said quietly, “the rage I felt in the forest… was that…?”
“The Emperor’s fury,” Kael finished, her expression softening slightly. “Pure faith, untainted by corruption. Remember that feeling, Rae. In the darkness to come, you’ll need it.”
Rae nodded, her hand unconsciously touching her bruised ribs. The pain was a reminder—of survival, of loss, of the battle still to come.
As she finally allowed herself to be led to a rest chamber, Rae’s thoughts turned to Alric, fighting for his life in surgery, and to the shadows that still lurked within the Scola’s walls.
They had won this battle, but the war for the Scola’s soul was far from over. And somewhere, hidden in the darkness, the Prescriptor waited.
The Emperor protects, she thought as exhaustion finally claimed her, but we must remain vigilant.
The shadows would return. But when they did, they would find faith’s blade waiting.
Rae lay in the medical bed, her body aching from the battle’s toll. The evening light filtered through the high windows of the medical wing, casting long shadows across the sterile room. Despite her exhaustion, her mind wouldn’t rest, questions burning in her thoughts.
She watched Inquisitor Kael standing by the window, the woman’s silhouette sharp and authoritative against the dying light. Gathering her courage, Rae pushed herself up slightly, wincing at the pain in her ribs.
“Inquisitor?” Her voice was small but steady. When Kael turned to look at her, Rae continued, “Thank you for saving us again… but why did you come back?”
The question hung in the air between them, carrying the weight of all they’d been through—Talia’s loss, the corruption they’d uncovered, and now this new threat.
Kael stood silent for a moment, considering the young girl’s words. “The Scola isn’t just another Imperial institution,” she finally said, her voice carrying a weight of experience. “What we build here—what we create in novices like you—it’s vital to the Imperium’s future.” She moved closer to Rae’s bed, her eyes meeting the girl’s steady gaze. “But there’s more.”
Her normally stern features softened slightly as she continued, “After what happened with Talia, after what you and your team uncovered… I knew the corruption wouldn’t end there. Evil like that leaves echoes, tendrils that reach deeper than we can see.”
Kael’s hand rested on the pommel of her bolt pistol, a habitual gesture. “I came back because I recognized the pattern. The threats against Celestine, the psyker’s attack—they’re too similar to what we faced before. This Prescriptor, whoever they are, is connected to it all.”
She paused, studying Rae’s young face, marked with exhaustion yet still showing that unwavering determination she’d come to respect. “But mostly, I came back because I saw something in you and your team. Something rare. Pure faith, untainted by doubt or corruption. The Emperor’s light burns bright in you, Rae van Daleon. And in times like these, that light must be protected.”
Rae’s hands clutched at the thin medical blanket, her young mind processing Kael’s words. The evening shadows had grown longer, and somewhere in the distance, she could hear the Scola’s bells marking the end of another day.
“The Emperor’s light,” she repeated softly, then looked up at Kael with eyes that seemed older than her eleven years. “When I was in the forest, when I saw what that psyker did to your storm troopers… I felt something. Like a fire inside me. It wasn’t just anger. It was…”
“Pure fury,” Kael finished. “The kind that comes from absolute faith.”
Rae nodded slowly. “But there’s something else, isn’t there? Something you’re not telling me.” She straightened despite her injuries, her voice growing stronger. “The way the psyker fought, the corruption they spread—it was like the darkness we found in the lower levels last year. When Talia…”
Her voice caught for a moment before she continued, “When Talia was taken from us.”
Kael moved closer, sitting on the edge of Rae’s bed. It was an unusually informal gesture for the Inquisitor, and it made her next words feel even more significant.
“What you faced then, in those corrupted tunnels, wasn’t isolated,” she explained, her voice low and serious. “The taint you discovered, the rituals that claimed Talia—they were part of something larger. Something that’s been growing in the shadows of the Imperium’s most sacred institutions.”
She paused, choosing her words carefully. “The patterns are the same. The way they target the strongest among you, the way they try to break bonds of loyalty and faith. This Prescriptor isn’t working alone. They’re part of a network, a cancer that’s been spreading through the Scola system for longer than we realized.”
“Like what happened to the storm troopers today,” Rae said, understanding dawning in her eyes. “They didn’t just want to kill them. They wanted to corrupt them. To make their deaths…” she shuddered, “…mean something worse.”
“Exactly,” Kael confirmed. “Just like they tried with Talia. Just like they’re trying with Celestine now. They target those with the strongest potential, trying to turn strength into corruption.”
Rae’s hands clenched into fists. “That’s why you came back. You think they’re all connected—the tunnels, the rituals, this Prescriptor. It’s all part of the same darkness.”
“Yes,” Kael said simply. “And you and your team—you’ve faced this darkness before and emerged stronger. That’s rare, Rae. Most who encounter such corruption either fall to it or break under its weight. But you…” she paused, studying the young girl’s face, “you turned it into something else. Into faith. Into fury.”
“For Talia,” Rae whispered, her voice carrying both grief and determination. “And now for Alric too.”
“The Emperor protects,” Kael said, standing once more. “But He does so through vessels like you, Rae van Daleon. Remember that. The darkness is growing, but so is your light.”
As the last rays of sunlight faded from the medical wing’s windows, Rae felt the weight of these revelations settling over her. The war for the Scola hadn’t ended with Talia’s loss—it had only begun. And somehow, she and her team were at the heart of it all.
“Rest now,” Kael said, moving toward the door. “You’ll need your strength for what’s coming.”
“Inquisitor?” Rae called out as Kael reached the doorway. “Thank you. Not just for saving us… but for telling me the truth.”
Kael paused, her silhouette sharp against the corridor’s light. “Faith grows stronger in truth, little one. Even when that truth is dark.” With that, she was gone, leaving Rae alone with her thoughts and the growing shadows.
