Got bored. Did some writing. Haven't proofread it and probably wont if history is anything to go by. Hope you enjoy.
One indent remained. The first had its activation gem when he arrived. He inserted the second with curiosity. The door still thrummed, however. There was no sign of the field weakening with the second gem, which unfortunately meant there would be no way to force it open.
Sparks manifested in the vibrating air as he dragged his rapier's tip along door. After a moment he let out a cry and dropped the sword which he had not noticed was glowing red. He paid no heed to the pain but let it sharpen his thoughts. Exhilaration often lead to epiphany.
“What are you doing?” A whisper came from the shadows. He felt the knife at his throat. The foolishness of youth had been the downfall of many Eldar.
“Dear sister, if you had three guesses what would you think I was doing?” Sound turned to frost in the air at his lips.
“I would guess you are trying to break into father's vault.”
“You would be right.”
The knife was removed and he turned to face his sister. They stood at least a sword's length from each other in what some would fall the distance of familial caution.
“You do remember what happened last time, don't you?” Althianesh smiled at the thought.
“Father flew off into violence. It was most amusing.”
“For us, most certainly. For the slaves and his Trueborn accompaniment I think opinions would differ.” The cackle she released was like that of an old crone despite her youthful visage.
“Did we ever get a complete body count after he detonated that residential spire?” He turned back to the door, cape snapping as he turned. The door was ancient; much older than the siblings that stood before it. Their father had constructed it to hide something and Talludesh had spent nearly a century trying to discover what that something was. Their father was a sentimental old Archon from the times of the Noble Houses and it made sense to Talludesh that the final gem to gain entry would be in an equally sentimental place.
“No. I believe he got bored and ordered the Kabalites to less menial chores.” Althianesh circled gracefully around her brother. Her feet padded softly with deft consideration in every step. She looked to the ceiling with her midnight eyes flicking quickly between every carved gargoyle and beast that seemed to move in the periphery of her vision. “I hate this place.”
“You want to know what is in the vault.”
“What gives you that impression?” Her voice was overly dramatic like that of an eccentric actress. It was a stark contrast to the monotonous drone of her brother.
“You would have left. Or killed me. Or told father so he could kill me. Or you would have gone to play with shiny things or whatever it is you do when not sleeping or whoring yourself out.”
“Oh dear brother, if I didn't love you so I would strike you down... again.”
Talludesh's face was a canvas of confusion. He looked his sister in the eyes as she restlessly prowled about. “Love? What is that?”
“It's a human sentiment. From a story father told me as a child. Some old sought to court a mate, encountered some humans, they told him about love. He killed them. It's romantic.”
“Didn't he also steal a Necron artefact for her? Don't trust in these mandraketales. Now, sister, what does father hold dear?”
He ignored her. His question was for his own benefit.
If I was Grand Archon Dernia Cavash what would I hold dear?
“Father treasure his heritage.” Talludesh concluded. “Family and heritage are everything to him. A Cavash must always be the Grand Archon of the Pierced Heart.”
“Well, I'm important to him. I don't know about you and Luckr'yth. He cherishes me the most.”
To his distaste it felt like a truth he could not refute.
Talludesh stooped to collect his rapier. It was coated in a thin film of water from the frost it had thawed where it landed. “Sister.” He beckoned to her with a demanding gesture.
She drew her own blades and moved forwards confidently.
“Calm yourself. I have no wish to hurt you.”
It was obvious that she did not believe him, so he kept his movements slow and deliberate. He held his rapier's pommel with his fingertips so that the blade's weight kept it pointing to the ground. When his sister was close enough he took the end of her scarf and wiped the liquid from his sword, mindful of the concealed toxin dispensers in the fabric.
After he finished he continued to unravel the scarf to which Althianesh looked quizzical.
“What are y-”
“That.” he pointed at her neck. She wore a pendant that sparkled with a red hue. “Did father give that to you?”
She didn't need the follow up. She unclasped it from behind her neck, stepped forward and placed it in the final indent of the vault door. The energy protecting it sparked and shimmered more now before it finally blinked out of existence.
Princess Althianesh smiled. For centuries she had the key to unlocking the door. The first time that they came to the vault together they unlocked it. It was surely an achievement.
She rolled her eyes as she spat up blood. The rapier had run her through. Her left lung was filling with blood.
Talludesh trembled with rage. He had located the other gem decades ago and had only come to the vault out of frustration. The final piece had been right in front of him for so long and he couldn't stand that it had never occurred to him.
He dragged the blade from her torso and impaled her again before letting her drop to the floor. He sat her with her back to the wall and kissed her forehead. “I loathe you, sister.” She was still alive and her eyes followed him.
Gleefully he stepped back after activating the run on the vault's surface. The interwoven metal unravelled like roots of a tree. A gap opened up. Light spilled out. He stepped towards it, excitement mingling with the rage in his veins.
Lord Dernia Cavash stepped forward and removed his son's sword hand with a quick flash of his own blade. He gave to them the contents of the vault in that moment: a dire lesson. “Do not act upon curiosity alone. Lack of preparation will be your downfall.”
Prince Talludesh's head rolled to the floor and his body dropped after its arterial fountain dance had finished.
Althianesh managed a wheezing giggle as she observed the murder.
Dernia ordered the vault sealed with a wave of his hand. He plucked the red pendant from the door and moved like fog towards his daughter. In that moment he seemed kind, like when she was a child. He fastened the pendant around her neck. She smiled at him but received nothing back. His eyes were pools of contempt. His face betrayed no emotion.
“Do you hate me, father?” blood came up with the words.
It that moment she wished he would. At least then he would feel something for her.
Dernia turned his back on her and started down the vast corridor. Before death could take his daughter he spoke the word “fool” and he was gone.