The descent of the young Primarch upon Brahms was much slower than unto Asclepius. The world had a noticeably stronger field of gravity, particularly outside of the field of artificial gravitation instituted closer to the surface of Asclepius. Moreover, it was surrounded by artificial debris that would put the asteroid rings of many a gas giant to shame. The disturbances in the warp that at times surrounded the world and made it an ideal candidate to disgorge the pod of the young Primarch were similarly a factor in slowing down the youth’s descent. These factors all combined to ensure that the first conscious memory of the child was to see the beauty of open space as his craft slowly descended through the atmosphere of the world. To his surprise, the natural pull of gravity abruptly stopped, and the path of the child’s pod now adjusted. [i]From across the stars, four virtues arise, Benevolent chaos in celestial skies, Their wisdom unfathomable, their essence profound, In the heart of darkness, grace is found.[/i] Men and women alike were dancing around the fire, in the distance many candles and torches lit in the ruins of a temple. They dared not light the once glorious braziers to the Gods and Goddesses, for though their devotion was great they knew the faithless - or indeed the faithful with even greater zeals - lurked nearby. Moreover, it was high time for the Skyfolk to arrive. But they could not delay the ritual. The time to reap the rewards of their masters was now. [i]Kirna, for our valor, our strength, our might, Bring us to battle, to war, to fight. The sound of drums, for blood our quest, In your fiery realm, brave hearts find rest.[/i] Some of the folk were naked, some were clad in body paint that covered every pore over their bodies, others wore so much cloth, furs, or hide that only their devotion to their beloved masters had not made them fall over from heat stroke even though it was the night’s witching hour. [i]Harmony in chaos, wisdom in the wild. Hear our plea, bring gifts, your child. Almighty, all-gracious, be our guide, Through the nightsea’s infinite tide[/i] Every so often, one of the men and women would perish of their own volition. One jumped into the flame, not a sound escaping her as her eyes boiled to liquid and flesh turned to ash. Another beheaded himself. For many minutes, the mans teeth would chatter a maraca-like staccato to give the chanting rhythm. One tore a long rope of her entrails out and began to devour them with great gusto — whatever was slurped up like an errant noodle would soon be replaced exactly where it disappeared until at last she collapsed, her dark skin turning pale from bloodloss. At last, one man impaled himself upon a great stake, gibbering sybillant praise as he slowly died. [i]Nyrielle, lady of life, of death, of rebirth, You cradle you cradle your children, you praise our worth. Through your blessings, our numbers grow, By your will and cycle, once more life flows.[/i] Arrows were fired into the sky at random, and most fell harmlessly into dirt. A few fell and killed performers, or injured them but they continued in their ritual nonetheless. The few who stopped in pain were brutally murdered for their weakness. [i]Harmony in chaos, wisdom in the wild. Hear our plea, bring gifts, your child. Almighty, all-gracious, be our guide, Through the nightsea’s infinite tide[/i] As more and more blood reached the waters of the nearby beach’s shore, the reflections of moonlight and torchlight very quickly began to shift to something of the sea’s own glow. [i]Tizh, weaver of destiny, of hope, of change, In your infinite labyrinth, possibilities range. Let us purge and end the lies of truth, Roll us your dice, make heroes of youth.[/i] For most of the world, the night went on without note. But here? The moon turned blue, then red, then purple, then green, before all the colours at once emerged to spin into one another. [i]Harmony in chaos, wisdom in the wild. Hear our plea, bring gifts, your child. Almighty, all-gracious, be our guide, Through the nightsea’s infinite tide[/i] The soil beneath the praying tribals shifted, sand moved such that they all stood upon an eight-point star. Any disturbance to the formation would seemingly be undone by random movements of the ground matter. [i]Solnos, muse of passion, of art, of delight, Stoke our heart's embers, they blaze alight! Under your beauty’s spell, we submit to a trance, Pleasure from pain, rejoice, we dance![/i] It was now that the greatest of shamans went towards the fire, one by one laying corpses in a circle around the flame. Ordinary sacrifices would not do, no. These were all firstborn of the tribe. [i]Harmony in chaos, wisdom in the wild. Hear our plea, bring gifts, your child. Almighty, all-gracious, be our guide, Through the nightsea’s infinite tide[/i] At last, one newborn was placed within the flame. [i]Defend us from light, bring us your dark Save us from the faithless, deliver our ark, Forgive us our mercy, accept our gift, A perfect soul, you will find it, sift. [/i] The first line of participants around the flame was instantly vapourized by the Primarch’s arrival. The second line was turned to mincemeat, the third suffering ruptures of organs and catastrophic bone breakages. It was only the fourth that lived to see what they had summoned, and not a one was regretful. This was with the exception of the two greatest of the Shamans at the scene. “Ptraf, surely I cannot be the only one, do you not see that this is not what we deigned to summon? The ritual failed, our destiny was stolen from us! This… thing is flesh and blood, I smell it now!” he announced, quietly pointing an accusatory finger at the blood spattered child before whom hundreds were prostrated. “This intruder is not from the demesne of our lords!” “No, Belsokh. I see it now in the stars. This is a gift far greater than you had ever thought of asking for.”