The Oath of Moment

Finally.

Theoderaf took the final step, and forced himself to stand straight. He caught his breath, unused to the physical and mental strain that the climb had required. But here he stood, at the top of the Astartes Tower.

Theoderaf slowly walked towards a pair of large double doors emblazoned with the Imperial Aquila. Even now, or perhaps especially now, Terra filled Theoderaf with the feeling of belonging, as if this was his true home, more than the dark churches of Certus. Deep down, a part of him wished he did not have to leave. As Theoderaf approached, the doors slowly opened, and Theoderaf stepped into the interior.

“Well done, Theoderaf. You have succeeded.” Came the smooth, powerful voice that Theoderaf knew instinctively, the words filling him with joy and revitalising his spirit after the long climb.

Theoderaf had visited the Emperor’s chambers on several occasions, each time leaving with some new lesson learnt or a new assignment. This room, though in the image of that room, was filled with just two chairs, an open fire, and several ancient bookcases. Standing by the fire was the Emperor of Mankind, wearing formal imperial attire rather than his usual battle armour, yet he still stood taller than Theoderaf. The Emperor smiled as Theoderaf entered and the doors closed behind him, and Theoderaf bowed his head deeply. The Emperor gestured to the chairs, and Theoderaf chose the smaller of the two chairs. The Emperor pulled several books from the shelves, and joined Theoderaf, placing them on a side table.

“I am sorry we have not had much time to meet recently, your brothers grow in number with each passing day it seems.” The Emperor chuckled softly, and Theoderaf laughed with him.

“Of course, I understand Father. With four of us now, the Imperium is truly blessed.” The Emperor’s laugh dimmed slightly at the word blessed, but he let the moment pass.

“Your brothers, Araphel and Alexandros, have increased the speed of the Great Crusade greatly, leading their expeditionary fleets and gaining my victories for the Imperium. And now...”

The Emperor took the book on the top book off the pile and handed it to Theoderaf.

“It is time for you to join your sons.”

The book was an ancient tome, the cover feeling like Terran leather in Theoderaf’s hands, with golden letters written in High Gothic on the front. A large IV was inscripted at the top, and as Theoderaf turned the pages, he saw the tales of his legion, from its founding until the current year.

“Your legion has many honours to its name. I know you will add many more in my and the Imperium’s name. What you do will be written into the history of the Imperium, and it is your duty to help me reunite humanity.”

Theoderaf closed the book, glimpsing the other books on the side table labelled with other numerals.

“I will fulfil any task you give me, Father. My sons and I will not fail you.”

The Emperor smiled, rising to his feet. As Theoderaf rose too, the room shifted, the image of the interior changing to a large platform with a wide viewing window looking out over the Himalazian Mountains. The Emperor was in a second standing in his golden armour, the radiance hitting Theoderaf like a heatwave. As the Emperor drew a sword and a scroll of parchment, Theoderaf knelt on one knee, placing a hand on the weapon.

“Do you, Theoderaf, accept the role of Lord of the IVth Legion? Do you promise to devote yourself and your sons to the Imperium and humanity, no matter the difficulty of the task? Will you uphold my command across the galaxy, no matter the order or any personal misgivings? Do you pledge to do honour to the Imperium and me?"

Theoderaf felt the weight of the moment pressing upon him, knowing that Araphel and Alexandros had knelt where he was. He knew from now on that his life would change forever, that he would be fulfilling what his Father had always meant for him.

“I swear, may I act as your sword and be the instrument of your word.”

The Emperor removed his sword and the parchment, placing them on pedestals prepared next to the pair.

“Now rise, my son. I grant you lordship of Certus Minor and the IVth Legion, who you may shape as you see fit.”

Theoderaf stood up, and the Emperor placed his hands on Theoderaf’s shoulders. Theoderaf let the Emperor’s warmth fill him for the few fleeting seconds. Theoderaf rose and the two embraced.

“I know you will do the Imperium proud.” [[Category:O]]