Editing Trip Into Hell (Warhammer High) (section)

===A Final Confession===
This was it. The moment Julius had dreaded ever since he had returned to Terra, the moment he knew he would have to face from the very moment his vows were sundered. The arrangements had been made by his father, and the final piece of the puzzle was falling into place. It was a Friday; she had the day off anyway for study and had flown out from Kourtney to see him. He had let her choose the meeting place, and she had chosen one of the gardens in Startseite Public Park, out of the way, a place where no-one would overhear them talking.

As he made his way down to the park, he regretted the half-bottle of amasec he had sculled just before leaving in a fit of nerves. He knew his father would be enraged, but not a drop of it had passed his lips while inside the hab, he’s drunk it outside. Still, his head was swimming and he could almost see the fumes on his breath.
The park was almost deserted, a few scattered people dotted here and there, but nothing like the usual bustling crowds which converged on it when the weather was good. Anything was preferable to thinking about what was about to happen, what he was about to tell her.
He turned a corner and there she was, resting on the same park bench in front of the war memorial where he had sat with Andrew over a year ago when they had gone on that double-date with Isis and Hana. She hadn’t changed a bit. She turned to see his hesitant approach, smiled brightly, and got up to greet him.

The moment he saw her, a flood of memories assailed his mind. Shining memories of all the good times they had together, swiftly followed by darker ones of the Petitioner’s City and how his weakness had nearly killed her. And then Summer, the woman who he had broken his vows with, the woman he had come to love, the woman who had died to save him. In the face of all this, he was surprised he didn’t just give out there and then.

“Hey,” was all he could force out. Even his voice sounded weak, worn out.

“Julius! It’s so good to see you!” She exclaimed as she hurried over, arms out. Julius knew she wanted to hug him, but he recoiled from that.

“Don’t touch me!” He said, too harshly as it turned out. How could he let her touch him, now that he had ruined himself?

Isis took a step back, her smile turning to an expression of concern.

“Is everything alright?”

‘No Isis, I cheated on you and fucked someone else who ended up dying in my arms at the hands of a fucking Daemon.’ That thought immediately sprang to mind, but he just gave a hollow nod.

She took him over to the bench and he just sat there in dead silence for a few seconds, staring at the words carved into the monument.

‘In remembrance of all who in the service of the Emperor and in defence of Humanity gave their lives for the dream of the future. We will remember them.’ Julius had read those words countless times, but he had never truly understood them until now. Summer had died so that Seadelant and its inhabitants would live on, so that he would live on. Lost in his thoughts he almost forgot Isis was sitting beside him, but when he heard her shift her weight on the seat he was snapped back to reality.

“How’s Kourtney?” He finally asked, trying to be conversational and break the void. He let Isis speak about her early experiences for several minutes, blankly taking in her talk of lectures, tutorials and readings. He wished he could show more interest in what she was saying, that he could appreciate her excitement at the opportunities she was taking, but all it did was feel like it was reinforcing the different directions they appeared to be taking. She was moving forward, but now he was stuck in the past and unable to move on from his war experience.

He noticed she had stopped talking, and he scrambled for something else to mention.
“Look, I’m very sorry about Furia. I honestly thought that she was getting better, and to hear that she cut and run must be hard for you. You invested a lot of time helping her after she began taking those pills.”

Isis nodded, regret spilling over her face. “I honestly thought she had turned over a new leaf, she had left her violent side behind forever. But no, she couldn’t change her spots after all.”
Even now in the depths of his funk hole, his ‘sight’ still picked up something. The set of her head, the position of her feet. Isis was hiding something, something to do with Furia’s disappearance. Once Julius would have tried probing deeper, but now all he could do was file that nugget away for later, if there would be a later.

Isis then turned to him. “And what about you? You haven’t said more than a few words. You were in a war Julius. Has your father talked to you about what happens when you come home from that?”

“My father has said a thing or two yes, but I’m fine. I survived it didn’t I? Plenty of others didn’t. Plenty of people died…” Julius stopped as he saw Isis staring at him.

“Is that alcohol on your breath?” her disapproving tone and the visible disgust on her face reinforced Julius’s shame at how far he’d fallen.

“Yes. What does it matter?”

“The Julius I know would never drink.”

“The Julius you knew died on Seadelant.” He said bluntly.

The air between them was laden with Julius' building shame. Isis didn't feel the need to speak up. “The Julius I knew was a man of honour, someone who wasn't afraid of commitment, in either sense of the term. More than that, he kept his promises.” She narrowed her eyes as his lips twisted in bitter regret. “Are you carrying out a promise by talking to me about this?”

Summer. Her words as she died, ‘Tell Isis about me, she deserves to know’, echoed through his mind. “Yes.” He finally admitted. “I swore to someone that I would tell you everything, though I don’t want to. Hell is real Isis, I went there.”

There was no avoiding or denying it now. He started at the beginning, the same place he had started two nights ago when he had told his father. But this wasn’t his father. This was Isis Lupercal, the first daughter of the first son, the prime one of the royal daughters, the apple of her father’s eye. His father understood what he had gone through, he had been there himself. Isis could never understand the same way his father did.

He stumbled over several facts, the memories harsh and grating. The first time he saw a dead man, the first time he’d killed an Ork, hiding from the Grots in the sewers beneath Port Huron, each and every one agonising, torturous. It was pure hell, second by second, minute by minute as he relived his experiences before her, the blood, the screams, the death. Isis stayed largely silent, with only some small questions for specific details.
He left nothing out, every little thing he told her no matter how hard. He wondered how long it would take for her to find his greatest failure, how long before she connected the dots regarding Summer Lantsfalle.

Finally he reached his greatest shame, and though he stumbled time and time again he forced himself to tell all, to tell how Julius Pius had ended up sleeping with Summer Lantsfalle. He couldn’t look at Isis as he said these things; but he knew he had betrayed her, spat on the oaths he had sworn, and she had every right to hate him.
He half expected her to react, but nothing. She let him continue without comment, talk about the Daemon and their last ditch effort to get warning of the Daemon to Ahriman. The Liberation Fleet, the Ork assault, the Daemonic Incursion and killing the Brass Scorpion, all tumbled from his lips. He felt like he was bleeding, he was hurting all over and the only thing keeping him from shattering like glass was the knowledge that it all had to come out, every last bit of it.

[[Image:Isis_Julius.jpg|thumb|right|The Truth comes out.]]

The final part, the worst part, the part which he knew best, because it had never left him, it haunted him day and night. He had sworn never to tell a living soul about what Summer had done, and he had even lied about it to his father, but not to her. Never to her.
That hell-space, the Daemon's infernal power, his helplessness as it tried to kill him, Summer standing there, Aquilia in hand as her faith met the Daemon head on. The white light which tore the Daemon apart, the last ball of pink fire, the agony of watching her fall. His desperate words and her soft-spoken ones, her last words as soft as silk, her fire going out.
Julius could barely continue after that, he had no idea how he had ever got that far, but finally he spoke of Calth and the journey home, of his nightmares and how he had turned to the drink to try and keep them at bay. His story concluded with his coming home, and completing his mission to ensure Summer’s last words got to her brother.
He was done, and he fell apart as thoroughly as a house of cards. He couldn’t see her anymore, he couldn’t see anything though the veil covering his eyes. But he had one more thing he had to say.

“Icy.” He began, using the nickname Furia used for her. “I’m broken, and I don’t know if I can be fixed. I can’t sleep, every night it’s replayed in my mind. The howl of the Daemon, the sound of Ahriman fighting it, the sight of her standing before it with only her faith as a weapon, the sight of her falling, falling. I can still feel her body as it dies in my arms; still hear her last words to me. She haunts me Isis, she’s like a ghost. I will never be free of her.”
The void reached for him, threatened to drag him back into its dark embrace. He wanted nothing more than to go back there and never come out.

“I told you this once before, and I’m telling you again. Forget about me, find someone who will always be true to you and who isn’t a fucking headcase. There should be someone at Kourtney for you, someone who doesn’t hold to silly superstitions like mine, and who isn’t a shell-shocked loon fit for the asylum. And even if you took pity on me and we stayed together, what kind of future could I give you? I’ve seen so much death; I know how suddenly it can happen. As a soldier I’d be guaranteeing you nothing but pain and misery. Andrew wants to be a warrant officer, so Hana won’t have to worry about him getting his face shot off in a firefight on some nameless world. That’s exactly what I’d be condemning you to if we stay together. I know you must hate me for what I’ve done to you, but I hate myself more than you ever could. I will never be free of this; I will be hounded to my grave by what I have done. Now leave me. Just go, just bloody go!” his voice fell apart with his last words.

He bowed his head, closed his eyes and hoped that when he opened them again she would be gone, never to return. He felt drained and scared after all that; he had no idea what to do next. He couldn’t hear anything over the pounding in his head, and the howl of the dark void which still hungered for him.

When he did open his eyes, she was gone. There was not a trace of her; it was like she had never existed. He slowly exhaled, half sob and half sigh of relief. She wouldn’t be bound by him anymore. She was free. Now he would have to free himself from the shackles of the past. He sat there and just watched the world go by for a time, thinking about how sudden and yet inevitable the end had been. Someone had once told him that High School Relationships were not meant to last beyond High School, as they were a first step, a way to prepare one for real relationships afterwards. He hadn’t believed it then, but he did now. Suddenly it made sense. What had happened between him and Isis was not a real relationship, it was learning for one. She had learned that lesson, and now so had he.

He slowly walked home, dragging out the journey as much as possible. By the time he returned home, night was falling.
His father was at the stove preparing dinner when he entered the hab. Ollanius turned to his son and softly asked, “How did it go?”

“As well as can be expected.” Julius replied.

“And Isis? How did she take it?”

“Not very well. We’re finished.” Those two words brought home the reality of what had happened. It was over between them. She would return to college and move on with her life, and he would have to do the same.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Oll said, moving to stand beside Julius.

“It was never going to last anyway father. I could never give her what she wanted. She doesn’t need someone of honor and faith, she needs someone of logic and reason. And she’ll find that someone, either at college or elsewhere.”

“And what about you?” Oll asked. “What will you do?”

“I’ll survive and move on. It’s all I can do.” Julius hung his head, and felt his father’s arms encircling him. He had no more tears to shed, but he still sobbed. He sobbed for Isis, for Summer, for all that had happened to him. But he was right, he had to move on, he had to let go and look to the future, no matter how bleak.

The Nightmares still came.

Julius stood on the landing platform, trying to adjust his cadet’s uniform to stop chafing. Around him others were also preparing to head off to the Imperial War Academy on Ganymede. They were the best and brightest, the future of the Imperial Army.

“Don’t forget to write son. I expect one letter every week.”

“I will father. Don’t worry about that.”

Oll smiled at him. “My son, how big you’ve grown. I remember the day Lord Guilliman came here with his offer. I could never have imagined you today, a man going to become an officer.”

After a few awkward seconds Oll added, “What about the other matter?”

“There’s a councillor at the Imperial War Academy, I’m to see him twice a week. I will get over this father, I will.” He tried to put some bravado into his voice. The nightmares still plagued him, but his councillor had assured him that in time they would fade. All wounds fade with time.

“Everyone embark!” a tinny voice blared out.

“Time to go.” Julius said, hefting up his bags.

“Good luck son!” Oll called as Julius trooped to the transporter.
Julius stowed away his bags and took his seat, a window seat as it turned out, facing the landing platform. His father was a tiny figure waving up.

Another cadet trotted up and sat beside him.

“Hello!” He said chirpily. “I’m George. What’s your name?”

“Julius.” He replied wearily.

“Julius? As in Pius? The son of the greatest war hero ever?”

Oh hell, Julius wanted to moan, instead he forced a smile and said, “Yes, he is my father."

"Wow!" George exclaimed. "Reading stories about him was what inspired me to want to join the army! Do you have any stories of his you can share?"

His optimism was infectious, and soon Julius was telling him all about Quetansk, when his father had won his second Star of Terra downing an Eldar Titan. As he did so, he realised that he wasn’t sad or depressed. For the first time in ages, he was happy. The future lay before him, and it was glorious to behold.

The End.