The Blazing Lotus from u/Arturbs, with Audio, Worldbuilding Ethics, and What Makes Warhammer Factions Fun to Write

Let's try something new today. I'm planning on self-publishing ebooks and audiobooks of my work, so I need some practice doing readings until... well, until I can afford to pay voice actors.

With that in mind, check out the attached audio for my reading for the short included below. In following with Black Library convention, I've tried to imitate a British accent. I also tried to cut my teeth mastering the track. After a listen, I caught a few pops and crackles that I need to learn how to delete, but all in all, I thought it turned out okay for a first try. Let me know how I did in the comments!

Note that this short features a homebrewed Space Marine chapter designed by the user u/Arturbs on reddit. Please note that Games Workshop owns all rights for the Warhammer 40,000 setting. The specific concept of the Blazing Lotus Space Marine chapter is a product of Arturbs's genius (based on the Warhammer 40,000 IP), so check out their DeviantArt if you have a chance. All other material in this post is unofficial and representative of my personal thoughts and opinions.

These Space Marines hail from the Blazing Lotus chapter, created by u/Arturbs. Check out Arturbs's work! (source)

Interrogation of the Mahavira (Part 1, Blazing Lotus Short)Noah Van Nguyen (Inspired by Arturbs)

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‘You are a heretic. You have betrayed the God-Emperor’s light.’

The interrogator who says this to me does not flinch. He stands, arms crossed, before me. Behind him, higher on the cyclopean stone stair, a silhouette observes us both. That robed woman is the master of this dungeon. Never have I glimpsed her face.

The interrogator leans forward. Torchlight spills across his countenance. A long scar distorts his lips. He has a cruel look, and features like crags of grey stone, but within, I sense ignorance and suffering. Such is the burden of all souls.

‘Brother-Librarian Vardhamana,’ he says, ‘also known as the Mahavira of the Blazing Lotus. The time for determination of your guilt has come. I repeat the accusations made against you by my master, Grand Inquisitor Wroth. Ninety-seven solar years ago, on the world of Half Eclipse, you encountered and banished a greater daemon. This entity our records refer to as 57Y Abominatus. Imperial daemonancers associated with allies of the most holy Ordo Malleus have since been unable to locate any trace of 57Y’s psychic imprint in the warp. It would appear, Mahavira, the daemon has disappeared entirely. But we are not children, are we? We know our dreams do not come true.’

I do not answer.

He glowers. ‘Admit your crime, Astartes. You bound the abomination to your soul. And with the abetment of your chapter master—'

‘The Golden King,’ I say. ‘Bring merit upon yourself. He is the Golden King.’

The interrogator sneers. ‘–and with the abetment of your chapter master, led your brethren on the path to damnation. This game now reaches its end. Confess. Repent of your sins and receive the God-Emperor’s mercy. Your once blessed body is damned, but your soul may yet be saved. Let us end your spiritual suffering.’

I exhale. In that great gust, broken teeth rattle in the reinforced vice of my jaws. Naked I stand, manacled to damp stone, towering above my torturer. Weeks of this interrogator’s floggings have flayed the sacred temple of my body. Between each bloody rag of skin, I glimpse the fibrous texture of my black carapace, sticky with crusty serum and clotted crimson vigour.

In this dungeon, at this human’s hands, I have endured tests of spiritual integrity which might have broken the mortal soul. I have undergone physical tribulations which would have invoked the extinctions of lesser men.

But I have not suffered. And my soul requires no more salvation.

‘I give only the same account as I have for ten days,’ I say, with a basso voice which shakes the walls. ‘Our chapter willingly surrendered ourselves when you began your inquiry. For the sake of dharma, the Golden King has cooperated fully with your investigation. I am a formidable psyker, yet I have patiently abided by your command not to use my powers. This alone is evidence of our innocence. Were we guilty, we would defy you. We would destroy you and gain merit.’

‘You would try,’ he says.

His insolence does not rile me.

He senses my silent scorn, and dread flickers through his scarred lips. He swallows, and the bold facade crumbles. He clears his throat. ‘You maintain your innocence because you wish to accumulate prestige. As your chapter earns reputation, your responsibilities and feudal tithes would be increased. But when the day comes your stature is great, then too would come the moment of your final treachery. You would betray our Imperium. You would inflict all the more damage against us. These claims of innocence, and this false cooperation… it is all a ruse. The subtlest of infiltrations. A wicked ploy. This, Grand Inquisitor Wroth has deduced. And rightly so.’

‘You do not believe that,’ I say. ‘I have not used my powers, but I am not blind to your thoughts, Gethalt.’

Hearing his name, the interrogator flinches. This conversation has reached its natural end. He turns and casts a final glance back to his master on the stair.

Haloed in the bronze light of the corridor beyond, she nods.

The interrogator returns his gaze to me. ‘Brother-Librarian Vardhamana. I permit you to use your powers. Show me the truth of your encounter with 57Y on Half Eclipse, ninety-seven years ago.’

Who Are the Blazing Lotus Space Marines?

What you've just read is the first half of a short story I wrote about the Blazing Lotus chapter of Space Marines. (The second half is below this blog post — feel free to skip ahead to it.)

I first learned about the Blazing Lotus three years ago while reading a post on reddit, where u/Arturbs introducing their homebrewed chapter. Arturbs's art captivated me. At the time, I was regularly writing on r/WritingPrompts to tighten my craft. Inspired by Arturbs's work, I decided to write a short from the perspective of a Blazing Lotus Space Marine, which is what I've published here.

You cannot look at this Blazing Lotus art and tell me it's not inspired! (source)

According to Arturbs, the Space Marines of the Blazing Lotus chapter "don't see the Emperor as a god but as someone who has transcended beyond humanity." The redditor also stated that "many of [the Blazing Lotus Space Marines] are trying to reach the same state of enlightenment [as the Emperor]."

Any Warhammer fans familiar with Space Marines' views on the divinity of the God-Emperor of Mankind will appreciate this juicy kernel of lore. As a rule, Space Marines don't view the God-Emperor as an actual divine figure. Instead, they see the Emperor as the pinnacle of human development and the most powerful human to have ever lived. Which checks out, since the Emperor is basically their grandfather.

While the background that Arturbs created for the Blazing Lotus dovetails perfectly with this established lore, what's more interesting is how elegantly it uses Hindu/Buddhist iconography and ideas as a lore frame in keeping with Warhammer 40,000 convention. The Hindu-centric framing is a departure from the traditional Space Marine aesthetic, but when you think about it, the difference is pretty superficial. What is enlightenment but a higher state of human development and living power?

That's what I loved most about the Blazing Lotus and the reason I felt so inspired to write a short for them. Arturbs took clear South Asian influence and expertly overlaid it onto the Space Marines' established conventions in the IP. Basically, it's perfectly homebrewed lore devised for the perfect setting for homebrewed lore. When I was a kid writing background for my t'au army, the Blazing Lotus would have been the kind of idea that would have had me drooling with inspiration. (The backstory of my commander and his renegade t'au army was less inspired, amounting to, basically, "We are also Commander Farsight.")

South Asia's rich history and culture probably doesn't get the love in Western media that it deserves, especially as an influence for worldbuilding in science fiction and fantasy. This is true of a lot of cultures. But does that make it fair for someone like me, who can't even distinguish Buddhism and Hinduism, to incorporate those influences in their work? At what point does ethical borrowing from real-world inspirations become cultural appropriation?

The Ethics of Real-World Influences in Worldbuilding

A question posed by u/Stir-fried_Kracauer: How can an author approach real-world cultural influence in their stories ethically?

Let's give Arturbs the benefit of the doubt. Let's pretend for a minute that someone like me — someone incapable of distinguishing Indian religious and national subcultures — had created the Blazing Lotus. In this case, would the Blazing Lotus represent a respectful degree of borrowing from South Asian influences, or would it risk being perceived as caricature? If it were perceived as caricature, would that be the overstep of me, the creator? Or would it be the error of oversensitive audience members' judgment? Can an audience err in their perception, or does the merest perception of cultural appropriation and caricature constitute cultural appropriation and caricature?

I don't know the answers to these questions. It seems to me that ultimately, the responsibility of the author is to ensure that their depictions of real-world cultures are respectful. Arturbs seemed familiar enough with Hinduism and South Asia to hit this sweet spot, and I think they may hail from a South Asian background.

However, my fanfiction inspired by Arturbs' work could more fairly be criticized as a caricature. I still remember writing it, quickly searching for terms I could insert to tastefully evoke Hinduism and Buddhism. Moksha, samsara — I had first learned about these in 7th grade social studies, but I didn't really know the terms, and I still only understand them at an intellectual level. They mean nothing to me.

At the end of the day, I think as long as an author goes about this sort of work respectfully — that is, with due research and a real appreciation for (or effort made to understand) the culture in question — then everything feels like fair game. Personally, I find Buddhist and Hindu spiritual concepts fascinating. They're a breath of fresh air to someone like me, who was raised Roman Catholic and still fears the flames deep down.

Viet Thanh Nguyen explored the line between genuine respect for foreign cultures and affectations of admiration in his novel The Sympathizer. In that novel, one of the antagonists is a self-proclaimed "orientalist" who professes fascination for East Asian culture while making caricature of it. Deep down, this orientalist is no less racist at heart than some of the other antagonists. In other words, this character lacked that real respect for East Asia and her peoples.

I like to think I walked this line well in my novel Yndrasta: The Celestial Spear. Readers have observed that the Suku of that novel were directly inspired by the Sámi. This is true: I borrowed much of the Suku lexicon and traditions being directly from Sámi language and culture, respectively. But frankly, those were only the most superficial applications of my Sámi research. I spent hours (upon hours, upon hours) researching Sámi while writing that novel, and the most important element I tried to get right was the values of the Sámi.

In the Yndrasta novel, all of the Sámi's love for nature and family was meant to be present in Njda's attitudes about life, Sigmar, the realm, and those around her. Hopefully, everyone who read Yndrasta understood how deeply respectfully I tried to approach the Sámi worldview. You see it in Njda's desperation to find her mother and family, or in her recollections of her past, or her assessments of Yndrasta.

I may be under a false impression. I may have done my portrayal poorly. If so, I can only try better next time. Because let's face it: Either consciously or subconsciously, an author's depictions of imaginary cultures are always going to draw upon their experiences. We can either attempt to conscientiously expand that experience through respectful study and examination, or we can trust the outcomes of our work to the lurking reefs of bias and snap judgments. The decision seems easy, even if the work is hard.

Why Is It So Fun to Write Imaginary Cultures?

One culture present in the Yndrasta novel was actually amalgamized from various influences. Yndrasta's culture from her mortal life used character names that I derived from the apparent phonology of her name and filled in with influences from various real-world myths. (Bonus points to anyone who can guess the real-world inspiration for the name of Yndrasta's pegasus, Ruladaha.)

Being allowed to build these kinds of settings and cultures is really fun, especially for Warhammer. The reason is that official Warhammer sources often provide a good hook to work from — a "lore lead," if you will. As everyone here probably knows, we Warhammer fans love building background for our armies, and we always start from the material provided in the codices and other official sources.

Guess what? Life's no different for an author. When I'm building out settings for my Warhammer novels, I like to expand on lore leads with two questions in mind. This simple framework requires looking at existing lore and asking two questions: How did this faction/character get here? And where would things go from here?

Below are some examples of what I'm thinking about. (A thousand apologies if I'm not current on lore from the examples I provide.)

• "How did they get here?" (Why does this faction/character have this quality?) For example, in addition to Fio'taun, what traits might have facilitated the t'au transformation to a hierarchical, segregated, collectivist society? Why are their pulse weapons rectangular? Why do they use "battle domes" to train instead of outdoors training ranges? Why do t'au use knives in their bonding rituals instead of dance parties? (Answer: It's definitely the hooves.)

• "Where do they go from here?" (What would this quality mean for other aspects of life for the faction/character?) In what cases would orks seek to avoid conflict? How would these dynamics drive their social interactions in a socially manageable way? If it's not socially manageable, then how do their societies sustain themselves? And if their societies can't sustain themselves, then what is the "life cycle" of an ork society? How does that life cycle manifest in an ork's day-to-day life?

Let's apply this framework to the Blazing Lotus. Why might they believe the Emperor had achieved enlightenment? Perhaps the founder of the chapter was psychically sensitive and present at the Siege of Terra. Maybe at the moment of the Emperor's fall, the founder had a psychic vision of the shattering of the Emperor's mortal form and his "ascendance." Maybe over time, meditation allowed this Space Marine and their adherents to gradually realize that it is possible to escape the perils of the warp if they free themselves from the shackles of mortal desire.

This works pretty well, right? Although it would need a bit more finesse, it borrows directly from Hinduism and Buddhism while largely dovetailing with the Warhammer setting.

Moving on, what would the Blazing Lotus chapter's view on the Emperor's enlightenment actually mean for them? Probably that they are empathetic — maybe even a little too tolerant for their own good. At the same time, if they believe in reincarnation, maybe there are circumstances where they are not afraid to kill the innocent. At any rate, their methods for fighting war would strongly reflect their motivations (the quest for enlightenment), which might mean that they ignore the Codex Astartes.

As you can see, the reason the South Asian influence makes the Blazing Lotus fascinating is not simply because we want to cloak South Asian culture in polyurethane and contrast paints. Instead, South Asian influence offers us a unique lens through which we can explore Warhammer's story and the human condition more generally.

I wish I could write a novel about these dudes. For that matter, I would also love to write about the Dark Angels and Black Templars. The lore for both chapters grows out of some simple underlying ideas. For the Dark Angels, secrecy. For the Black Templars, crusade.

A clever author could turn these ideas on their head to subvert fans' expectations. For example, why do the Dark Angels treasure secrecy? Established lore says it's because of their guilt: A good half of them betrayed the Imperium, so catching those Fallen Dark Angels is now the life mission of the so-called Unforgiven. If I could, I would expand on this, informing my research and work with personal experience. For example, when I think of secrecy, the first thing that comes to mind is the desire to share a secret. Humans are gossips at heart. Deep down, what if the Dark Angels want to share their chapter's secret to someone who would really understand? Someone who could forgive? This could set up some pretty rich drama, especially given the chapter's mandate for secrecy. What's more interesting is that the only people whom the Dark Angels can truly confide in are the Fallen, really — and the Fallen are in no place to offer forgiveness. These ideas offer rich potential to develop new depth for the faction (or at the very least, for a single character).

The Black Templars would be a hard act to improve upon (I'll forever associate them with Aaron Dembski-Bowden's hardcore depiction of Grimaldus in Helsreach). But to use the same approach from above, why would a Space Marine chapter go on an eternal crusade in the wake of the Horus Heresy? Again, established lore offers a lead: Sigismund and the most zealous Imperial Fists set out to prove their loyalty to the Emperor by continuing his Great Crusade. But why prove their loyalty? Perhaps the Imperial Fists' failure to defend the palace conferred an enormous sense of guilt upon Sigismund. And perhaps deep down, his motivations for the eternal crusade were based on a thirst for atonement. (Note that I'm not caught up on every Horus Heresy and Siege of Terra novel, so forgive me if this idea is present in existing novels.)

Orks are another interesting faction. On the surface, they're brawlers who love a good fight. However, when you dig deeper into the lore, you'll find tons of interesting hooks for deeper exploration. One prime example is the idea of wasted potential. As a species and civilization, orks were once the Krork: titanic, intelligent creatures that served the Old Ones as a kind of warrior caste. If an ork character learned about this, what would it mean to them? Surely they might think, "We used to be betta at stompin'. We gots to get good at stompin' again."

Translation: How far have we fallen? And can we become what we were again — or is it too late?

Oh jeez, no — now my mind's running wild. That kind of ork story would be fun. What if an ork protagonist only becomes aware of his Krork heritage because a Genestealer infected him and now the Hivemind has awakened dormant genetic memories? What if the only way to cure himself is to become Krork, like the Beast? What would success mean for him and the orks he fights with? What about failure?

Breathing Life into a Setting Is a Mission of Empathy

One theme that's probably become evident throughout this rambling post is how much I value psychological examinations. To drive character growth in fiction, I believe that examination must always be evident in their interactions with — and attitudes toward — their own culture.

Empathy is the core mission of writing fiction. Sure, good fiction should entertain, but the best means to achieve that is by making readers think of themselves as the protagonists. To do this, you have to show readers how they are the same, even if they different. To do that, you have to convince the reader that all people are the same and that all people are different.

Sounds contradictory, but think about it. I'm half-Vietnamese, and you're German-Dutch, but we both have the same feelings, the same anticipations, the same butterflies in our stomach in moments of fear. I'm straight, and you're gay, but our hearts can both be broken the same. I'm a US citizen, and you're an immigrant, but at the end of the day, we both overcome certain trials to achieve certain dreams. We're all worlds apart — but frankly, not all that different. Not in the ways that matter.

Understand others, understand yourself: the grand vision of fiction. Writing about unique perspectives and imaginary cultures allows us to do this by giving us new eyes to see with. Good worldbuilding presents opportunities for intellectual and spiritual growth.

I suppose this ends my meditations. If you've made it this far, enjoy the second half of my Blazing Lotus story below. And to Arturbs: Thank you for the inspiration!

Interrogation of the Mahavira (Part 2, Blazing Lotus Short)Noah Van Nguyen (Inspired by Arturbs)

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This abrupt request surprises me. ‘You’re certain? To witness what I lived that day may ravage your mind.’

He finds his courage and nods, activating engrammatic wards which a life of monastic austerity and discipline have provided his soul.

Then, as if on command, the pitted iron manacles clamped around my bloodied wrists go slack. They fall to the damp floor, chiming like discordant birdsong. I could have shattered them long ago, but patiently I waited.

Now I bide no more time. I close my eyes, and in the midnight behind my lids, the interrogator’s chakras blaze. Each of those seven suns is a many-petalled flower of starlight, formed into a tower from the base of his spine to his crown. The aroma of chrysanthemums fills my nose, banishing the dank dungeon’s reek, the stench of burning oil.

I show him. Everything. How I completed the trials of our chapter on Indus. How I attained the sacred status of moksha, and how I and my brethren guard the truth of the Emperor’s death.

Not only his death, but his final union with the Lotus Throne, which permitted the release of his divinity from the infinite cycle of rebirth, to which even gods are condemned. The Emperor was the first to achieve enlightenment; we Astartes now follow in his path. I show the interrogator how – when my time is come – I too shall join the Emperor and his saintly bodhisattvas.

I show the interrogator how, because of this, I shall know no fear.

I show him the day I met the daemon. An entity whose truer name rhymed with the reek of carrion, whose essence was inhabited by the burden of disillusionment. I show him the scene I saw on Half Eclipse, striding toward this abomination. Brother Apothecary Akuziro crouched behind a rubbled pillar, collecting the gene-seed of our fallen brethren. That day on Half Eclipse, death released many of my battle brothers from samsara, the wretched cycle of rebirth. They left the darkness of life that they may find peace, and join the Emperor’s light, nirvana. Akuziro preserved their gene-seed, that one day others may also share in enlightenment. Even in the heat of battle, he performed his duties in quiet serenity.

The vision continues, and I show the interrogator the Golden King. He lay shattered on the floor, breath fluttering beneath his war-plate, bolter and broken spear still clenched in hand. His war mask, a golden face possessed with perfect tranquility, resembled the mythic death mask of Sanguinius, Bodhisattva-Primarch of the Blood Angels. Defeated by the daemon the Golden King was, but the time of his own release had not yet come.

I show the interrogator the moment I strode through the daemon’s psychic fire, discs of purple flame. I was unburnt. And in the daemon’s chakras, I sensed, for the faintest of moments, dread–

A minute ago, the interrogator spoke true. I did not smite the daemon on Half Eclipse. But neither did I bind it.

I showed it the truth, just as I show this quivering mortal interrogator. I revealed the truth of dharma, and the moksha, and the Emperor’s Lotus Throne. I revealed the cycle of rebirth, samsara, and that solitary escape from worldly suffering – the eradication of all desire. Many believe the Emperor’s light is purgatory flame, burning corruption from the warp.

It is no such thing. The Emperor’s light is light, and it enlightens.

In the weightless eternity of our encounter, the daemon did quake. I know what the abomination perceived. Me, eyes blazing, and nirvana radiating from my bones. One hundred and eight golden arms wreathed behind me, like the nimbuses of saints. This holy standard curled upward, over my crown, each golden arm bent in meditative prayer. My own hands were joined before me in the thirty-third stance, Whispering Wind, the yogic pose symbolizing mercy from misery.

When the light was dispelled, and I emerged from my meditative trance, the daemon was gone. All trace of the creature’s psychic essence had been dispelled from the universe.

Humans are not alone in their damnation to samsara, the cycle of rebirth. But neither are we alone in finding release from that cycle. The daemon was gone.

Back in the dungeon, for the duration of our brief union, nirvana becomes us both. Then the interrogator collapses on the floor, spasmodic, half conscious. He is strong – he will survive this visitation. He was bold to dare my power. He was true.

Behind him, descending the stair, the robed woman at last approaches. She kneels before me and casts down her cowl, revealing the silver hair which frames the portrait of her face like a locket. Lattices of scars, faint like feathers, cover her tan skin. Beneath her robes, she wears the burnished black power armor of the Sororitas – the Sisters of Battle.

‘I am Sister Superior Kalinina Lojan.’ She bows her head. ‘Forgive us, Mahavira. My cannoness, in agreement with the Grand Inquisitor, ordained the trial of your chapter. We had to be certain.’

There is nothing to forgive. Kalinina walks her path, as does Gethalt, and Wroth. We are all stuck in the cycle of rebirth and ignorance until the day we are not. But when that day comes – in this incarnation or another – we are free.

‘Rise, sister,’ I say. ‘Certain of what?’

She lifts her gaze to mine. Beneath the scarred curtain of her flesh, within the furnace of her soul, I sense her own burning chakras, as hot with purpose as my own.

‘Certain you are indeed capable of what you claim,’ she says. ‘Brother-Librarian Vardhamana, Mahavira of the Blazing Lotus... a daemon of great power has been detected in the Tormentia Sector, one which we and the Six Hundred Sixty Sixth chapter of the Adeptus Astartes cannot banish alone. The Imperium requires your service.’

I offer her my broken hands. ‘And ever shall you have it.’