Chapter 36 — Ring, Necklace, Thirty Years
Yuki did not know what the Emperor and Horus had discussed.
She only knew that afterward, Horus radiated intensity.
The Shadowmoon Wolves changed with him.
A seriousness settled over the Legion like the pressure before a storm — discipline sharpened, training intensified, every warrior moving with a renewed sense of purpose.
Yuki narrowed her eyes.
Was Father pushing him too hard?
…No.
She had to see for herself.
She knocked, then cautiously peeked through the door.
A flick of psychic force struck her forehead.
"Come in. Do not lurk."
The Emperor and Horus sat cross-legged on the floor.
Between them rested a tactical board — a war game used to simulate battlefield maneuver, supply lines, and encirclement strategies. It was a common ritual between father and son.
A teapot steamed quietly beside the board.
Horus poured tea and placed a cup before Yuki without looking away from the pieces.
She sat and watched.
Horus's formation had nearly encircled the Emperor's last defensive line.
Yuki understood immediately.
The old fox was performing again.
Under her increasingly speechless gaze…
the Emperor lost.
Horus exhaled softly, almost reluctant for the match to end.
He lingered whenever possible during these quiet moments — chess, tea, tactical debate — stretching them just a little longer.
Because once the game ended, the Emperor returned to duty.
And Horus left, careful never to intrude.
"Then… I will take my leave, Father."
Today, however, the Emperor raised a hand.
"Horus."
He paused.
"My son… which constellation do you favor?"
Horus had read the constellation atlas countless times.
Before sleep. Between deployments. During warp transit.
He rejected superstition.
He believed in the Imperial Truth.
Yet he revered that book.
Once, he would have said Leo — symbol of majesty, of the elder brother, protector of the pride.
Though the sixteenth son, he had hoped to stand as a pillar for those yet to return.
Now…
since learning of the title Warmaster, another constellation drew him:
Centaurus — mastery of motion, unity of man and war-beast, unstoppable momentum.
Did he crave command?
Perhaps.
But more than power…
he feared losing his father's gaze.
When nineteen brothers stood beside them, how much attention would remain?
He spoke only part of the truth.
"I admire Leo for its majesty… and Centaurus for its strength."
The Emperor nodded.
From within his robe, he produced a ring.
Old gold.
Worn by time.
Its engraving nearly faded — hooves, drawn bow, the outline of a centaur archer.
"This ring was crafted in Persia a year before my birth," the Emperor said.
"Sagittarius — the unconquered archer."
He placed it into Horus's palm.
"My Warmaster.
My centaur.
Commander of the Imperial hosts."
His voice lowered.
"Where you turn, the Legion turns.
Where you advance, they advance.
Where you strike… they strike."
"My son — go forward. They will follow."
Horus left in a daze.
In the corridor he turned the ring in his hand, smiling foolishly while Custodians pretended not to notice.
"Oh? Still here?"
Yuki stepped out behind him.
"I have something for you too."
She eyed the ring.
"Why aren't you wearing it?"
"I… I wanted to look at it more…"
He fumbled nervously with his fingers, afraid of dropping it.
Yuki sighed.
She took his hand and slid the ring gently onto his left little finger.
Horus stared at it like a child.
She dragged him away.
The Sister's Gift
On the Imperial Wings, Yuki shoved manuscripts aside and handed him a wooden box.
"Open it."
Inside lay a silver necklace.
The pendant depicted a creature Horus did not recognize:
lion head, deer antlers, tiger eyes, dragon scales, horse hooves, ox tail — exquisitely crafted.
"This is a Qilin," she said softly.
"In ancient Terra it symbolizes peace and good fortune."
She lifted the necklace.
"Unlike Father, I don't expect greatness from you."
She met his eyes.
"You are my brother first. Warmaster or not."
"I only want you safe."
"Bend down."
He did.
The cool metal rested against his chest.
She smirked.
"Good thing Father gave you gold. If it were bronze, I'd be accused of disrespect."
Horus laughed.
"Sister, you have been disrespectful since the day we met."
"True."
They both laughed.
The Happiest Years
These were the happiest years of Horus's life.
He fought beside those he loved most.
World after world came under the rational light of the Imperium.
He learned negotiation, restraint, and the art of winning compliance without bloodshed.
Humanity had been isolated by the Long Night.
Unity required more than conquest.
The Night Attack
On the world of Leslie, a hostile city-state launched a surprise night assault.
Horus and the Emperor were unarmored.
They fought back-to-back in the darkness.
Plasma fire struck Horus and hurled him to the ground.
"Father… go…" he gasped.
"I will not abandon you," the Emperor replied.
He stood over his fallen son and held the line.
Reinforcements were delayed.
(And somewhere in orbit, the Emperor sent a psychic message:
"Do not intervene yet.")
Yuki: ?
Moments later, she descended like a comet.
Twin blades flashed white arcs through the night.
Enemies collapsed, screaming as white flame burned their souls with unbearable agony.
Horus stared upward.
A divine avenger.
A celestial judge.
"I am not a god," Yuki said immediately, uneasy under his reverent gaze.
She reached the Emperor, supporting him with exaggerated tenderness.
"Oh dear, our invincible father seems injured."
"Medicae! Quickly! Ensure our great lord suffers no lasting harm!"
The Emperor nearly broke character.
When Horus looked away, he flicked Yuki's forehead.
A Daughter's Fury
Later.
Inside the Emperor's chamber.
Yuki stood with hands on hips.
"What were you thinking?!"
The Emperor sat in silence.
Imperial Guards exchanged glances.
[Should we intervene?]
[You try.]
"If Golden Age weapons had pierced your defenses?" she continued.
"And Horus? What if something happened to him?"
"I know what I am doing."
"Shut up."
The Emperor remained silent.
If he were truly angered, this conversation would not exist.
A knock sounded.
"Father? I've come to play chess."
Yuki opened the door with a radiant smile.
"Oh, Horus! Perfect timing. I was having a friendly discussion with Father."
Horus looked between them.
The Emperor paused…
then nodded.
"…Yes."
"Come, sister," Horus said. "Watch us play."
"Gladly."
They sat together.
The war, the burdens, the destiny of humanity — all seemed distant for a moment.
If only the moment could last a little longer.