That feeling when the roleplays you accidentally started are more interesting than your fic… (THREE MONTHS, I'M SORRY)
Also, I kinda lied. The story got away from me again and, well… this isn't the chapter with the resonance answers. My bad.
Well, Ingressus thought. So much for that plan.
It had made perfect sense back in Ataraxia. Take the protosongs from Voltaria to a resonance, set them in their places, and see which direction the energy went as it seeped away. The tune lines were devoid of Song energy, and based on the accounts of the Silencing, they would slowly absorb it from the half-formed Songs and drain it back into the earth– hopefully, in the direction of whatever the source had been. Ardoni had experimented before with placing regular Songs back in the dead resonances, but the resonances disconnected from them once the Songs were done growing. (Which, Ingressus had thought vindictively when he read that, sank the theory that the Voltaris had bled the tune lines dry by leaving one resonance unharvested for centuries to create the Prime Songs. Songs did not gain stronger or different powers from being left unharvested.) The rest of the Ardoni had never had any protosongs to experiment with, as far as his readings had made it sound, so that could be what had stopped them from locating the source of the resonances' power already. It wouldn't necessarily have been a fast process for finding the source, but he could at least get some kind of direction to start looking in. And if he took the protosongs to different resonances around Ardonia, maybe he could triangulate a rough location. It had seemed so promising– and so he'd gotten his hopes up.
Ingressus laid an arm over his eyes, his sigh mixing with the birdsong. He should've guessed that that would be too easy. Every time before that he had felt close to figuring it out, to having a way to save his clan, the universe decided to throw him another wrinkle. Why would this time have been different?
He lay there on the dirt, listening to the resonance's tune sounding in his head. It was different now than the ones in Voltaria or in the mine. Instead of stifling silence there was now the faintest trace of sound to it, distant and quiet like the fading echo of a voice as the resonance drank in the protosongs' energy. That much of his theory had been correct. But clearly it had been too much to ask that the outflow of Song power could point him in any particular direction.
He tried to tell himself that he still knew more than he had when he started this experiment over a week ago. The energy had flowed away, meaning the block wasn't affecting the resonances themselves. And it had flowed away along four distinct lines, that matched up with the direction the tune lines had followed. That meant that those were still present as well, and were empty of Song energy– hence why the protosongs' power was drained away. That meant that the tune lines were still present, but were simply too devoid of energy to form new Songs. And the energy flows were not separated out by Song order, meaning that the four different orders of energy probably didn't originate in different places. And that meant by extension that there was only one thing or place he would have to find, not four.
Ingressus sighed. So he'd had a few theories confirmed. That didn't mean he'd actually learned anything particularly new. Resonances died when the energy that flowed along the tune lines could no longer reach them, even the other clans had known that. So whatever had happened to kill all of them had somehow cut them off from the source of that energy. Everything he'd learned came back to that. But he had no idea what that source was. The four clans were clueless, the journals from Voltaria referenced a search for the source of the power but the writers had neither been part of that search, nor had they ever learned what the source was. And if the source had ever been found, Voltar didn't have the memories to show him. Because that would've been too easy.
He knew he shouldn't be thinking like that. He knew that despair did absolutely no good. He knew that it was no small task he'd taken on, knew the rest of the Ardoni had been looking for a solution for centuries, knew he couldn't expect answers to come quickly. But Nether blast it, would he ever find them? Was this all just some wild-goose chase that would yield nothing? It felt that way at the moment.
Ingressus crossed his arms over his face. He had promised he wouldn't give up, to himself, to Errai, Shidar, and Avior, to the ghosts of his parents and the rest in his camp. He had sworn on Voltar itself that he would bring his people back to Voltaria, and he would find a way even if it killed him. But at what point did perseverance become delusion? Was he just wasting his time with the resonances? Was he really going to do his clan any good with this? He just kept running into dead ends– and each one meant more death for his people as the raids continued. Meanwhile he was hiding, warm and safe, and leaving his clan to suffer and die without him.
Ingressus pulled his arms away from his face, reaching out above him and summoning Voltar to his grip. He stared up at the staff, at the sunlight refracting through the diamond into bright beads of light that darted along the blades.
With this, you are now Master of the Voltaris clan.
He was certain his father hadn't expected any of this when he'd passed Voltar on to him. How could he have? Okay, maybe thanks to Aegus he could've, in some long-shot way, predicted the mercy of a should-be-enemy Ardoni. But how could he have predicted that Ingressus would end up so far from the mountains, or that he would– try to, at least– take on the problem of the dead resonances? Ingressus would bet all the money he had that his father would never have seen this coming.
What would you think if you could see me now? he wondered.
Would his father want him to keep searching? Would he think it was a futile effort, and that he should return to his clan and actually be a Master for them? Would he think that peace was even possible? Would he be disappointed with Ingressus for choosing to stay away?
It was the question that had been hounding him for three years now, ever since the Guardians had thrown Voltar back to him. Did he stay away, or did he return to his clan? Before that point his separation from his clan hadn't been a problem beyond his own homesickness– they didn't need him for anything, Voltar would surely have found someone else to lead them, and if it hadn't there was nothing Ingressus could do about it anyway. His mission with the resonances wasn't costing them anything then, and even if he had failed, utterly and completely failed to find a single thing that was useful then at least he had tried, had done all he could for them in the situation fate had placed him in. No one could say he was neglecting his people then. But now? He was their Master, he was duty-bound to protect them, to guide them, to be there for them. Wasn't that the opposite of what he was doing now? Yes, if he could end their exile then that would be the ultimate reward for his clan, but that would only happen if he found an answer. If he didn't… then he would have neglected his clan for nothing.
Ingressus lowered Voltar, the shaft lying across his chest. Where was the line between perseverance and delusion? Had he crossed it already?
The vision rose in his mind, the now-familiar sensation of gaining a new memory that he hadn't lived. He saw his predecessor standing on a ridgeline in the Barrier Mountains, looking over a map with her brother while the group she led rested in the lee of a cliff. He saw another Master, tired, hungry, and worn, shaking hands with a Human merchant in relief as a handful of Voltaris emerged from the landscape and a second merchant climbed onto their wagon to open a barrel of food. Another vision showed him a Master walking alone onto a snowfield, Voltar in hand, drawing the attention of a raiding party while his group fled into the peaks. He saw his father leaning on Voltar, looking over the camp with a smile as strips of goat meat roasted over the fire, as Gyarus gestured animatedly in the depths of the story he was spinning, as Sorays bickered with Sinaran and Mirzam walked over with an armload of apples to share. Outside of the memory he felt himself take in a sharp breath, felt the mourning stab at him at the scene that no longer was.
The visions shifted. This time he saw the memories of his own life– speaking to Aegus, scribbling down a new theory in handwriting that in his excitement rivaled Galleous's in messiness, holding Voltar in his hands and asking for answers. He saw Shidar's hopeful gaze as he vowed to give Ingressus whatever help he needed, saw himself sitting at his desk, powering through his old research to compare with the books he'd found in Voltaria. And then he saw himself back in the mountains, sitting at the mouth of a cave with his parents to watch the sunset on a rare warmer summer's day. Lyrinia was fletching arrows so expertly that she didn't even have to look as she worked, gazing out at a sky dotted with lavender-pink clouds and striped with golden sunbeams.
"Why are we still stuck in the mountains?" he heard his younger self ask.
Dominus looked back, his brow furrowed with confusion. "You know why, Ingressus. It's the only place that can deter the other clans from us."
"I know," Ingressus said. "But why are they still angry at us? No one is even still alive from when they drove us here. Are they going to be mad at us forever?"
He saw his parents glance at each other in the memory, a look he now recognized as someone deciding whether to be reassuring or honest. Why would they have thought their people could ever be free? Why would they have ever thought that conscience and morals would suddenly prevail among the clans? His mother had never even set foot outside of Northwind. No one in their clan had known any other life than this in generations. And with the continuing cycle of revenge, it wasn't like the Voltaris's hands were entirely clean of Ardoni blood, either.
But his younger self didn't understand yet. He didn't realize how fear and hatred could be passed along through the generations, even after those involved in the original wrong were gone. So he just sat there in the memory, looking between his mom and dad and wondering why they were quiet.
"I don't know," Lyrinia said finally. "It's hard to tell with these things."
It was an answer that wasn't an answer. It was a simple response, said for the sake of saying something in reply, one that neither raised hopes nor quite dashed them to pieces. It might've been true but it wasn't an answer, and Ingressus had recognized that even as a child.
But isn't there anything we can do?" he asked, frowning. "Why do we have to just hide?
Another pause. Another silent moment as his parents weighed the answers they could give.
"We have tried," Dominus said finally, glancing at Voltar where it lay next to him on the dirt. "We tried negotiating with the other clans. We tried reaching out to the enderknights for protection. We've tried nonaggression. None of us want to just hide, but the way things stand, it's the best way we have of staying alive."
Ingressus pulled his knees to his chest. "So… is that it? Do we just have to wait and wait until they get all of us? What… what happens then?"
"No."
Lyrinia cast the arrows aside and shifted to face Ingressus, taking him by the shoulders. "They will never get all of us. We are the toughest and cleverest clan there is, and we will always survive. They have always been doing their worst and it has never been stronger than us. We will last as long as it takes until they finally stop."
She grinned. "You know, they're cowards. They hide behind the Prime Songs because that's the only advantage they have on us. They stole them because they knew that was the only way they could beat us. But even that isn't strong enough to make us fall."
Ingressus sat up straighter at his mother's words. Lyrinia touched a hand to his heart, her scarlet eyes meeting his with a smile that spoke of assuredness and belief.
"Chin up, my little Ingressus," she said. "Our clan can endure anything."
Ingressus nodded firmly. "Anything."
"Maybe there will come a day when we can return," Dominus spoke up.
His wife and son both turned to see him looking out at nothing, his gaze distant as though listening to something no one else could hear. "Maybe there will come to be Ardoni among them who can see reason. We weren't always enemies with them. Maybe someday these days of war will end…"
Ingressus watched Lyrinia looking at Dominus curiously. His father had always been pragmatic, facing the world as it was and keeping his focus on what had been set before him. The Voltaris could dream of a better life, but it was just wishful thinking, a dream that, for all practical purposes, was just that. The immediate priority was and always would be survival, there was only so much time and attention the Voltaris could spare for things beyond that. And as a Master, Dominus was responsible for the present needs of his clan. He didn't often spend time contemplating what-ifs and maybe-somedays.
Ingressus now knew his father had been thinking of Aegus. An Ardoni who could see reason, who could have made his father believe that war and death and killing on sight didn't have to be the way of things. His father had had that hope, even if he would now never live to see it even if it came. An "if" that felt very far away right now.
Ingressus sat up, setting Voltar beside him as he stared at the resonance. The four protosongs sat there in the dirt, one nestled right up against a tree's roots. He'd placed them there over a week ago, in the nearest resonance to Ataraxia aside from the one in the mines. Songs had grown very slowly before the Silencing, over the course of years or even a decade or more. He'd known that, by that logic, the energy would likely drain away slowly as well– something that had been proven right. He could sense the energy seeping away, like trickles of water spreading along the ground when you dumped out a bucket. After more than a week of letting the Songs sit there, the threads of their power hadn't even reached thirty feet away in either direction. And if it was any stronger or faster in one direction than another, it was too faint of a difference for him to pick up. He had to face it: this experiment had failed.
He pulled the Mobilium protosong from its place, feeling the threads of energy stretch and snap in his mind as he pulled it free. He stared despondently at the unformed Song, watching the bubbles of energy swirl in vague, shaky orbits within the indistinct shell. It felt like a muffled, distorted echo of his own Song, a tune trying but failing to achieve the proper notes and rhythm. Or maybe he was just projecting his own failure onto the Song.
Ingressus pulled the other protosongs away, listening to the strands of magic break each time. When the final one was removed the energy seemed to sink away, not vanishing but simply… settling, slumping down as though the presence of the Songs had been holding it in place. Ingressus sat there and listened to the remnants of Song power fade away, dispersing into the ground with nothing left to sustain them.
Huh. Well that, at least, was different from what he'd read. When these protosongs had first been harvested, (after the Silencing but before his clan's exile, as he'd discovered with great excitement, that meant that whatever had happened was not some bitter vengeance for the war and their banishment,) the energy had faded away slowly. The tune lines must've still been full of energy then, severed from the source but not yet drained empty. Now, by contrast, the tune lines were bone-dry of Song energy, and what little the protosongs had re-introduced to them must've dispersed easily away once the Songs were disconnected. Of course, whether this new observation would actually be helpful still remained to be seen. If recent history was any guide, it probably wouldn't be…
Just head home, he told himself with a sigh. Be frustrated later.
Ingressus's trip out into the mountains hadn't been a short one. Galleous had told him long ago that things were strange near the Heart of Ardonia, and Ataraxia alone was proof of that. But if generations of enchanters and scholars were any indication, they were also a great place for studying magic. It was the largest patch of Guardian-patrolled land in Ardonia, undoubtedly due to the sheer number of magic sites amid its peaks and valleys. Ingressus had ventured to several over the past weeks, trying to see if any had an effect on his Song. Different magics could interfere with each other, so he'd read, and so he'd walked to different sites to see if any of them would make his Song stop working. The only one he'd come across that seemed to have any effect was a canyon that appeared to hold echoes eternally, with threads of sound tracing their way back and forth between the walls. Though whether that had to do with the magic itself or the discordant sounds in his ears making it harder for him to hold the Song's tune in his head, Ingressus didn't know; the protosongs and Selarin's old Aggrosphere hadn't seemed affected, as far as he could tell.
Studying the resonance had been Ingressus's main goal as he wandered the mountain range. A direct route from Ataraxia would've taken him several days, but with the wandering path he'd taken through the peaks and valleys on the way to the resonance, by the time he returned to the familiar floating islands he'd been gone for almost two months, and the heat of midsummer was starting to fade. He could feel the air cooling around him as he hiked up the mountain to the town, a breeze rustling the leaves around him. Back in the Barrier Mountains his people would be preparing for winter already, stocking up their food stores and retreating as far down into the valleys as they dared in the hopes of avoiding the worst of the cold and blizzards that would plague them as winter tightened its grasp on the land. They would suffer, and struggle, and some would die. But it wouldn't be him, because he wasn't there. Because he had chosen to stay away.
Ingressus stopped, massaging his temples. He was here for a reason. He'd vowed to get his clan back to their home, to end their struggle to survive for good. He wasn't just hiding, wasn't just avoiding them and their hardships. But it was hard to believe at the moment that this was the way to do it.
Voltar's vision hadn't clarified the matter. It hadn't told him which choice he should make; it had just showed him his options. It made sense: a Master staff didn't lead, it only guided the one who did. A clan's fate was ultimately in their own hands. But Nether, Ingressus wouldn't have minded a roadmap right now.
Given the lack of freedom to travel Ingressus usually had, this adventure was the longest he had ever been away from Ataraxia. His predictions for how people would react to seeing him back turned out to be pretty accurate. A disappointed look from Linneus, a nod and greeting from Remus, a wave from Ailera and a scowl from her mother, Rana tossing him an apple with a "welcome back." Keleus struck up some brief conversation, but was drawn away by his niece and her family dragging him off to the library. Nothing drastic seemed to have happened in the time he was gone.
"Look who's back. Get all the practice you wanted with my Song out there, Red?"
And that was the most unwelcome greeting of all. Ingressus turned to see Selarin leaning against a tree, glaring at him with folded arms.
"It's been three years," Ingressus told him. "It's not my fault that you haven't earned your Song back after all this time."
Selarin scoffed. "Sure, Red. I'm sure you've got no influence over Galleous about that at all. Does he know you're scavenging other people's Songs for yourself?"
"Of course he knows I'm studying yours," Ingressus replied. "It might as well be useful for something."
"Studying, yeah," Selarin said, rolling his eyes. "As if you could really figure out the resonances, if you even cared to do it at all. Give it up, Red, no one here believes that's actually what you're doing."
Ingressus turned away again. "They can think what they want."
"You wait," Selarin called after him. "I'll get my Song back one day. And then we'll have a rematch."
Ingressus stopped, turning back to face Selarin. There was no mocking in the Mendoris's gaze, no smirk like the kind he usually wore when he was pushing someone around. Selarin had been humiliated, and the smugness was gone, replaced by vengefulness.
"Do you think I'm remotely afraid of you, Selarin?" Ingressus asked, his voice low. "Do you think there's anything you could do to me that I didn't grow up expecting from your clan?
Selarin scoffed. "What, you think you're better than me, Red? We all know you're only hiding here because there's nowhere else on the continent that'll tolerate you. You don't have room to push your luck, Voltaris."
Ingressus's hand closed into a fist but he forced it open again. Don't let your enemy get to you.
"I've dueled you before, Selarin," he warned. "And if you decide to challenge me again, I'll accept, Song or not. It did you no good last time."
Selarin growled. "You got lucky."
Ingressus lifted his hand, summoning the Aggrosphere Song to his palm. "If that's true, then come and take it."
He could see the strain in Selarin's eyes as his gaze fixed on the Song. The Mendoris's teeth were clenched, one hand grasping at the air as he restrained himself from lunging for it. He wanted the Song, wanted badly to reclaim what he'd lost. Ingressus watched Selarin struggle between desire and pride and self-control, mentally reaching for his sword even as he stood there, Song held in his hand, waiting for his adversary to break. From looking at Selarin one would've almost thought he was holding a Prime Song, with the hypnotic siren call that Galleous's brother had described.
After a long moment Selarin's gaze broke from the Song, lifting to send a forced smirk at Ingressus. "I'd rather you get caught using it, Red. It'll be more satisfying to watch when you get banished from here, too. Your clan will never be welcome around the rest of us, and neither will you."
Ingressus closed his hand, dispelling the Song again as he spoke through clenched teeth. "And you will not be welcome in Voltaria."
Selarin's smirk grew. "Well, I think I know where I'll be going on vacation next."
He turned on his heel and walked off. "Not like anyone will be there to stop me!"
It would be easy. There were some nice pebbles right there on the ground, just a few feet to Ingressus's left. Grab one or two, and fling them at Selarin's head or neck. Selarin wouldn't even see it coming, as cocky as he was to turn his back. But Ingressus kept control. Selarin wasn't worth his time. He was annoying, frustrating, a pain in the neck, but he wasn't important. His words were just words, they meant nothing, he knew nothing of Ingressus's odds or whether he would succeed or fail. But songs… Selarin had hit close to home. Even the satisfaction of winning the battle of wills was pale; at least he could've fought back against a punch or a sword.
He heard the familiar clanging as he approached the forge, the sound that had come to mean sanctuary and safety and home to him in all these past years, the kind of home his people could only dream of. He couldn't justify his fortune, had done nothing to earn it. It was by luck, sheer random chance that he had ended up where he did, had been granted the comparative paradise he now enjoyed and could do nothing to bring to the rest of his clan.
Galleous was hammering a pickaxe head into shape when Ingressus arrived, but he stopped and looked up as Ingressus walked in. "Welcome back! How'd it… go…"
His smile faded at the look on Ingressus's face. Ingressus merely sighed in response, the lack of an answer speaking as clearly as an explanation.
"Not what you were hoping for, I take it."
"No, it wasn't."
Galleous looked at Ingressus in concern. "You seem more… down than usual."
He had noticed. Of course he had. Galleous was observant, he noticed a lot. "This is just… frustrating."
Galleous didn't respond for a moment. Ingressus walked over, summoning Selarin's Song and holding it out. "Here you go."
Galleous took the Song but then set it aside, gently taking Ingressus's hand. "Ingressus, listen… you know there's no one in the world who could fault you for not trying."
Ingressus looked away. "Trying isn't going to bring my people home."
"Still, you can't blame yourself if things don't pan out," Galleous said. "A lot of people have been looking for answers for a long time. You're doing all you can, no one could ask more of you."
"I need to find something, Galleous," Ingressus said, half-pleading as though voicing his desperation would prompt mercy from the universe. "I don't know how else I could get the Masters to listen to me."
Galleous rested a hand on Ingressus's shoulder. "You'll find a way. Whether it's the resonances or something else. I know how much you love your clan; I know there won't be a stone you leave unturned to save them."
The smith sounded so assured. So certain that one way or the other, the quest would end with the Voltaris reclaiming their home. Ingressus rested a hand over Galleous's, giving it a slight squeeze.
"I was… really hoping that the books from Voltaria would give me an answer," he admitted. "Especially after I learned that the Silencing happened before our exile. I'd hoped that we had found an answer, and just never had the chance to fix them before…"
He shook his head. "But if we ever did, those researchers never learned it."
"But it at least got you closer, didn't it?" Galleous asked.
"A little bit," Ingressus admitted. "But I just… feel like I've gotten as far as they could take me, and now I'm on my own again."
"You're not on your own."
Galleous squeezed Ingressus's shoulder, holding the Voltaris's gaze. "You may be the expert, but you've still got people behind you. Me, Aegus, Achillean, your clan, Kittrian and the twins– we're all here for you. We'll help you, however you need."
Ingressus managed a half-smile. Galleous rubbed his shoulder again, apparently sensing that Ingressus's mood went beyond just a fleeting moment of frustration.
"Why don't you take a rest," he suggested. "You've been on the move for a long time."
Ingressus nodded, and made his way to his room. Everything was as he'd left it, aside from the last of the flowers being gone from his plant. Ataraxia had the luxury of permanence.
Ingressus set his books down on the desk and then laid on his bed, letting out a sigh as he stared at the ceiling. At least the mattress was more comfortable than the bedroll he'd been carrying around.
He needed to find answers. He'd hinged everything on this, and he had no more than half-formed scraps of ideas for any kind of backup plan. He needed something to offer the other clans, to get them to end the war and free his people from the mountains. Yes, Aegus hadn't needed an incentive to help him, but the Nestoris Master had agreed that the other three would demand more than simply his word for the ending of the war.
He laughed bitterly to himself. Maybe he should just try to get rich and bribe the Masters into ending their exile. The odds of that seemed just as good at the moment.
Ingressus sat up, then wandered to his desk and pulled out one of the journals at random. He flipped idly through the pages, catching a random word here and there. "Amplifying," "secondary frequency," "balanced symphony…" much of it had been gibberish to him a year ago. He'd had to teach himself the terminology and the way of thinking that his ancestors had used in their research, reading and re-reading the books he'd found and cross-referencing their knowledge with his. As he'd hoped, his clan had known a lot about the Songs and the resonances that the other clans had never discovered. It had gotten him closer to an answer– but it had still stopped short of where he needed to be.
His mindless flipping stopped on a page in the middle of the journal. The regular lines of writing there had been broken by a drawing, one drawn with clear care and detail. Four Songs, their sparking and shimmering energy captured frozen in time as they spilled past the edges of the shells. An inaccurate depiction, according to Galleous, but it certainly conveyed the power the Prime Songs held.
The researchers who'd drawn the illustrations had never seen the Primes. And at the time of drawing this, it was clear that they had not yet known the heavy price the Prime Songs carried. The artist– Albire, Ingressus believed his name had been– had written a passionate, deeply curious entry beneath the drawing, one that showed just how ignorant his people had been of the dangers the Primes would become.
I've only heard about this discovery so far, he had written. But I hope one day I can get to study these new Songs myself. These "Prime Songs" contain every Song in existence within them, what else might we learn about them? Are there others out there like them? Or perhaps completely new kinds of Songs, ones we haven't yet discovered? No one thought such Songs as these Primes were possible, everyone would've thought that the different tunes would've reverberated off of each other too much for such a thing to ever happen. Isn't that why no one can use multiple Songs of the same order? I suppose there is still much left to learn. Perhaps the Prime Songs can be the gateway to a new understanding of this magic.
Ingressus sighed, running his finger along the side of the page. It seemed ignorance really was bliss. Albire and his friends had known nothing of the Primes' corruptive power– not until the war began and the Voltaris had decided to make use of the powerful Songs.
He leaned his head against his hand. The Primes were another problem he would have to solve if things ever got to the negotiating point. He couldn't leave the Primes in the hands of the other clans, he couldn't take that chance. Nor could he claim them as his clan's rightful property– the other Masters wouldn't care, and they wouldn't trust him with them, either. The fear that the Voltaris were capable of making more Primes was how they excused the use of those Songs on the raids, he doubted they would be any more comfortable with the idea of his clan actually having the real Primes. There would need to be some kind of compromise, but dividing four Primes among five clans– the math simply didn't work like that. Two for the Voltaris and two for the other clans was a fair compromise, but the Masters would probably say he was only demanding a greater share of the power for his own clan—
"Hi!"
Ingressus jumped, the heel of his hand driving into his cheekbone. He turned to see Luciren running up to him, and the younger Ardoni jumped him in a hug.
"You're back!" she said. "Why didn't you tell us, we missed you!"
"I only just got back," Ingressus told her, hugging her back. Behind her Volerik came into the room, carrying Dusk in his arms.
"Well, we did miss you," he said. "And Galleous said that you need to be distracted from banging your head against your books for a while, so we're having a campfire tonight for you."
"I didn't say that!" Galleous protested. But his eyes were amused as he watched the younger three.
"Well, not in those exact words, but that was kind of your point." Volerik walked over and set Dusk down on Ingressus's lap. "We're gonna get everything set up. Dusk will keep you company until we're ready."
"I don't need a—"
"We didn't ask," Luciren said brightly. "You're our honorary big brother and we missed you. And you need to tell us about all the weird stuff you saw out there."
"Yeah," Volerik agreed. "We need to hear the stories. The enchanters who come through town always have to run off back home and never have the chance to tell us stuff. So that's why we have you!"
"We'll come get you soon," Luciren said, scratching Dusk's ears as the cat purred. "We'll just get everything ready first."
She turned and trotted out again. "See you then!"
Volerik stayed behind for a moment longer. "So how'd your trip go?"
Ingressus stroked Dusks's fur, glancing away. "Not how I'd hoped."
"Oh," Volerik said. "I'm sorry."
Ingressus just shook his head. "It's happened before."
"Sounds like you could use some cheering up," Volerik observed.
Ingressus looked up at him, then nodded. "Yeah. I guess so."
Volerik grinned. "We're on it."
Volerik dashed off as well. Galleous remained, leaning against the wall near the entry to the cave.
Ingressus arched a brow at him. "You set them up for this, didn't you?"
Galleous nodded. "I did. You looked like you were getting stuck in your own head there. Mind running down the same trails over and over. I figured you could use an actual break from that line of thought."
Ingressus looked down, not answering for a moment. Dusk curled up on his lap, one paw reaching out into the air and the other tucked under his chin. The cat was the picture of contentment, as evidenced by the purring Ingressus could feel more than hear. He glanced over at his desk, where the book still lay open to the drawing of the Prime Songs.
"I need to find something, Galleous," Ingressus said. "They need me to find something. If I don't, then I've just abandoned them."
"You are doing all you can, Ingressus," Galleous said gently. "No one could ask more of you, and that includes your clan. If they could see how hard you've been working, they would say the same."
"But they can't," Ingressus said. "If I went back to them with nothing to show for it… without even a contingency plan… I promised I would get them back home. I'm responsible for all their lives, Galleous."
Galleous rested a hand on Ingressus's back. "You shouldn't have to be," he said quietly. "And I'm sorry that this fell to you."
Ingressus stroked the cat absently. "I should be there. I've stayed because I thought I could help them more like this. But I'm out of resources and I'm out of ideas."
He didn't want to go back with nothing, didn't want his first words to the rest of his people to be an admission of giving in. Even a partial answer, even a scrap of a solution, would be better than nothing– something they could actually act on to help them change their fate. He wanted to give them at least some scrap of hope, not snatch away whatever Errai and the others had managed to bring back to the rest of them.
Galleous rubbed his back. "You need to take a break. A real break, and come back to this with fresh eyes and a clear head."
Galleous had mastered the tone of voice that was exactly halfway between suggestion and command– the way of issuing a directive that was neither aggressive nor up for debate. Ingressus knew that Galleous was not simply requesting that he take a break. But still, he glanced over at the book, still lying open on the desk to the page with the Primes. Galleous followed his gaze and pressed his lips together.
"Those blasted Primes have cost our kind too much."
Ingressus nodded in agreement. Galleous reached out, slipping a hand under the cover and closing the book.
"Give yourself a rest for today," Galleous said gently. "If you still feel you're needed more in the mountains after that, then we can work on how to get you there. But for now just let your head clear for a while. Whether you go or stay, your clan needs a Master who hasn't driven himself to breaking."
The twins returned within the hour. Luciren scooped up Dusk and Volerik pulled Ingressus by the arm out of the cave. Ingressus let himself be dragged along; if nothing else came of this, at least he'd get food. Galleous came with them, carrying a large soup pot under his arm. Kittrian and Matt were sitting by the firepit when they arrived, coaxing the flames into a blaze. Kittrian looked up, her face breaking into a smile.
"Welcome back!" she said warmly.
She stood and pulled him into a hug. "Come, sit down."
Ingressus let her guide him to a log by the fire. Galleous set the soup pot down on the grass, then helped Matt build up the fire.
"So what are things like out there on the mountains?" Kittrian asked him.
"No, Mom, not yet!" Luciren protested, tugging at Kittrian's arm. "We have to wait for everyone to get here first."
"Who else did you invite?" Ingressus asked her.
Luciren counted on her fingers. "There's us, then Leah, Ailera, and Saylor. Leah would be here already but she got caught up at the library with something."
"She promised to help with reading to the kids this evening," Matt said. "We didn't know you'd be back today. But she shouldn't be too long."
Ingressus nodded. "Did anything happen here while I was gone?"
"There was a dragon!"
Ingressus could have sworn Volerik was on the other side of the clearing half a second before. But now he was standing in front of Ingressus, bouncing up and down in excitement.
"There's a new enderknight!" he said, with as much enthusiasm as he'd had on learning that eclipses could happen. "So he needed a set of armor, and I didn't even know that Galleous is one of the only ones who can make it! We got to meet his dragon when he came to ask Galleous for the armor and he'll be back in a week or so to pick it up!"
"Everyone was very excited about it, as you can tell," Kittrian said in amusement. "Not that I blame them in the slightest."
"An enderknight?" Ingressus said. "Here, in Ataraxia?"
"They need armor," Galleous said simply, nestling the pot of water among the flames. "And I can make it."
An enderknight. Respected by people around Ardonia. Companions and friends of the Enderking, who ruled over all the land. He had been planning to seek the enderknights' protection for his clan on their return to Voltaria, working with or at least on behalf of them to drive out the Defiant Legion. If he spoke with the knight when he returned for the armor, could that be his way to eventually contacting the Enderking himself? It would be risky to reveal his presence, yes, but it might be worth it… Maybe he could still do something for his clan, at least…
"What's so hard about making enderknight armor, anyway?" Luciren asked. "I know obsidian's really strong, but so is diamond. Is it just because it's so strong?"
"Not exactly," Galleous said. "Yes, its strength is part of it, but it's more to do with the nature of the stone itself. Obsidian isn't a metal, it's a glass. So it needs to be worked very carefully. It needs a different method to forge than iron or even diamond."
"Wait, glass? Kittrian asked, frowning. "How can glass ever be strong enough to work as armor?"
"I don't know," Galleous admitted. "But obsidian acts more like glass than metal, which is what makes it so hard to forge right. If you look closely at the edge of an obsidian piece, it does resemble a shard of glass. Remind me to show you all sometime."
The conversation wandered on. Ingressus sat by the fire, watching and listening and still feeling his mind circling back to the resonances whenever there was a lull. The others seemed to have been informed of the distract-Ingressus mission, though, because they kept drawing him back to the conversation whenever they felt he had gone too long without speaking. Dusk wandered the island for a while but eventually got bored and curled up to sleep on Kittrian's lap. Galleous stirred together a potato soup over the fire, the smell prompting Ingressus's stomach to growl. As the shadows lengthened Leah arrived with Ailera in tow, ruffling Ingressus's hair as she passed.
"What's good, kid?" Leah asked.
Ingressus batted her hand away. "I'm more than a decade older than you."
"Not in relative terms."
Ailera sat down across the fire, nodding to Ingressus with a smile. "Welcome back. Glad to see you made it, these mountains are weird."
"The strangeness was actually really localized," Ingressus noted, gesturing around at Ataraxia as an example. "Avoid those places, and things are pretty normal."
"How do you know where those places are, though?" Leah asked. "Are they all obvious, like Ataraxia?"
"Not all of them. But some of the books that enchanters donated to the library had maps in them. I marked out the magic sites they documented onto my own map, and whatever warnings they had about them." Ingressus shrugged. "But most of them hadn't been marked as actually being dangerous."
Of course, the enchanters who passed through the town didn't know everything about the Heart Mountains. Ingressus had been hiking up a mountainside one evening, hoping to cross through a pass to reach the next valley. But when he crested a ridge on the mountain slope the air ahead was thick with haze, rising from the ground like mist off a pond but dark and smelling of smoke without a flame in sight. Voltar had practically shouted at him to turn back and Ingressus hadn't questioned the staff, turning tail and retreating back down the mountain to find another route.
"I think you're Ataraxia's top wizard now," Luciren said, plopping down next to Ingressus on the log. "You could probably quote every magic book you've ever read, you're a Song expert and you have an enchanted sword. You ooze magic compared to everyone else here."
Ingressus arched a brow. "I'm… gonna assume that's a compliment."
Luciren punched his arm. "Of course it is."
Galleous took a taste of the soup, then nodded approvingly. "Food's ready."
The conversation slowed as everyone busied themselves with eating. Ingressus took a sip of the broth, letting himself savor the taste. It was easy to fend for yourself in the Heart Mountains; game was plentiful, the apple trees were near their harvest, and Ingressus had found patches of wild carrots in places on the lower slopes. But a slice of rabbit meat cooked over a firepit didn't compare to a home-cooked meal made with the time and utensils and supplies to fancy it up. Ingressus had barely known what seasonings were before living in Ataraxia.
"Great soup," Kittrian said, finishing off her bowl. "Your recipe?"
"My father's," Galleous said. He always loved cooking."
"Well, points to him," Ailera said. "This is great."
Footsteps, hurrying across the bridge. Ingressus looked up to see Saylor rushing onto the island.
"I'm late," Saylor declared, skidding to a stop. He looked at Ingressus. "Hi. Welcome back."
"Welcome anyway," Kittrian said, beckoning him over. "Pull up a rock and join us."
Saylor took an empty spot between Leah and Kittrian. Galleous poured him a bowl of soup and he took it with a nod of thanks, settling down to eat.
Leah made a dramatic show of glancing over at the sinking sun. "Late again, Saylor… You lose track of time hanging out with your girlfriend?"
Saylor just sighed, taking a mouthful of soup in pointed silence. Ingressus looked over at them.
"Saylor has a girlfriend?"
"Oh yeah," Leah grinned. "Forget the dragon, you missed a lot."
Saylor just stared at Ingressus. "You knew I had a crush on Lurae, why do you sound surprised?"
"You've had a crush for almost a year now," Ingressus observed. "And you've finally gotten up the nerve to ask her out?"
"He didn't even ask!" Leah said cheerfully. "He chickened out but she– mphh!"
Saylor had clamped a hand over her mouth. "Shut up—!"
Leah pushed against the ground with her feet, knocking herself backwards off the log and away from Saylor. She scrambled up again, grinning just as widely as before. "She knew about his crush on her, 'cause it was stupidly obvious, but she was waiting for him to be ready to tell her—"
"You weren't even there—"
"There are no secrets in this town, you should know that!"
Ingressus allowed himself a silent laugh. There were secrets in Ataraxia, and two major ones were represented on this very island. Not that he was about to share either one.
"Children, children, calm down," Galleous said, amused.
"We're adults!" Saylor protested.
Galleous hmmed sagely in response, taking a sip from his bowl. "Technically."
"That I can't argue," Leah admitted.
"Adults are weird," Volerik muttered.
"Yeah, and boring," Luciren said. "C'mon, Ingressus, your turn. Tell us about the weird stuff you saw!"
"Hey!" Matt protested.
"I promise never to become boring," Leah said.
Ailera shivered. "Poor Ataraxia."
"Don't worry, I'll defend this place," Ingressus said.
"Yeah, yeah, great." Luciren flopped against Ingressus's back, arms draped over his shoulders like she was begging for a piggyback ride. "Now tell us what you saw out there!"
Ingressus shrugged her off, plopping her down on the log beside him. He thought back to his mountain wanderings, recalling the oddities both unnerving and awe-inspiring that he'd seen.
"There was… a waterfall," he began. "But instead of falling down from the cliffs, it hit the edge of the mountain and went up into the sky instead. The mist coming off it turned into clouds when it reached the sky, and they all spread out from there across the mountain range. A lot of the weather in the area came from that, I think."
Leah sat back, gazing curiously off at the sky as she pondered that. "I wonder what would happen if someone went over the waterfall. Would they just fall like a normal person? Would the water or the magic buoy them up instead? And what would happen when you reached the top?"
"That did occur to me," Ingressus told her. "But I decided not to test it."
Kittrian nodded. "Very wise."
Ailera gave Leah a light shove. "You hear about something as amazing as a reverse waterfall and the first thing that occurs to you is 'what happens if I swim over it?'"
"What?" Leah asked. "It's a valid question."
Ailera rolled her eyes. "Please never swim over a reverse waterfall. One way or the other it will end with you falling to your death."
"This is why she isn't allowed off the islands without supervision," Matt piped up, prompting his sister to throw a chunk of bread at him.
"Was that rule instigated before or after you four went on a midnight caving adventure looking for slimes?" Galleous questioned.
"It's been six years, Galleous, let it go," Ingressus deadpanned. "Anyway, then there was the mountain with glass instead of stone. All the dirt, trees, sand and stuff was normal, but wherever there would've been exposed rock, it was glass instead."
"Obsidian glass or normal glass?" Luciren asked.
"Normal glass," Ingressus said. "Hard, clear, slick. The rainstorm that hit as I was passing by made it look almost like the mountain was melting."
Ailera nodded, her gaze distant as she pictured the scene. "That sounds… kind of beautiful."
"You should've seen it when the sun came out," Ingressus said. "It was almost blinding."
His audience listened intently as Ingressus recounted the other things he'd seen. The forest whose trees would move when he looked away, leaving him dependent on the position of the sun and the distant peaks for finding his way. A caldera from an ancient volcanic blast that now contained its own weather cycle, one centered on lava rather than water. A cave whose veins of minerals in the walls formed into an alphabet of magic sigils. Leah was amazed at his description of a forest inhabited by birds with feathers made of diamond, redstone, quartz, iron, and any other kind of ore one could imagine.
"Did you go to see the Heart of Ardonia?" Volerik asked. "I've always wondered about that place."
Ingressus shook his head. "Not this time. I only saw it from a distance, over the mountains."
The Heart of Ardonia was only barely visible from Ataraxia, just a faint thread of light that could only be seen on the darkest of nights, rising into the sky above the distant ridges. Ingressus had gotten a closer look in his wanderings, climbing to a mountain peak on his way to the resonance to try and get a good look at the wellspring of magic that was probably the source of everything else weird in the mountains. The beam pierced upwards into the sky like a distant beacon, its power rippling through the mountain range. Ingressus had spent an hour sitting there on a ledge, staring at the beam and wondering about it. It wasn't just a beam of light, it was magic made visible, audible, even tangible, tugging at all six senses as he watched.
"Everyone says magic is strongest here," Saylor mused. "I wonder if the Heart of Ardonia is what causes it, or if that's what made the Heart of Ardonia exist."
"It's the cause," Ingressus said. "You bring something enchanted into these mountains, its power will be stronger here. It's apparently easier for mages to cast their enchantments here, too."
"Like your sword?" Saylor asked, staring at Ingressus with an expression the latter had come to know well. "Is its fire hotter here than out in the rest of the world?"
"Somewhat, yes," Ingressus said coolly. "And no, you still can't use it."
Saylor slumped, staring at his soup with a tragic expression. Kittrian arched a brow, looking between the two.
"Something tells me this isn't the first time that subject has come up?" she asked.
"No," Ingressus informed her. "Saylor is jealous."
"To be completely fair, there are exactly two enchanted weapons in all of Ataraxia," Leah pointed out. "And a freaking fire enchantment is by far the cooler one. So you can't blame him for being jealous. I'm jealous, I want to use it."
Saylor gestured at Leah. "See?"
"Great, now there's two of you."
Matt's eyes widened. "Please. Please never give her a flaming sword—"
"Matt, I am not a pyro—"
"That still doesn't mean—"
Ingressus was distracted by their bickering by something landing on his head. His hand shot up on instinct to knock the thing off, but the thing in question hopped back with a squawk, its feet tangling in his hair. The bird recovered its balance and hopped to his shoulder, letting out an indignant "hey!"
Ingressus glanced over at the bird, spotting pale blue and violet feathers as the bird ruffled its wings to hold its balance.
"Kay?" he guessed, recognizing the color.
The bird perked up, pleased at being recognized. "Ah, you remember me."
"I do." Ingressus held out his arm, and Kay hopped to his wrist. She had come to Ataraxia a few times before, carrying messages from Aegus and sometimes even bearing notes passed on from the other Voltaris. There was no folded paper held in her talons this time, though, so apparently Errai hadn't contacted Aegus lately.
Ingressus tried not to be disappointed as he lightly nudged Luciren where she was leaning against him and stood up. His people had to be cautious in finding Aegus to leave a message with him– ally or not, crossing into the provinces was dangerous. It was just before his journey into the mountains that he'd last heard from the Nestoris Master, he'd gone longer without hearing from his clan.
He glanced back at the others, all looking up at him. "I'll be back."
Leah waved. "Tell your crush I said hello."
Ingressus rolled his eyes and walked off, Kay still perched on his arm. There was a Sendaris sitting under a tree with a book on the next island so he walked on, finding an empty spot on the edge of an island draped with vines. A last glance around showed no one nearby, and Ingressus turned to Kay again.
"Things are still secret, I take it," she observed.
"Anything Aegus sends me probably will be," Ingressus sighed. "Go ahead. What's the message?"
Kay opened her beak, her voice deepening to match Aegus's. "Hello, Ingressus. I hope fate has been kind since we last spoke. I have, well… a mixed bag of news this time."
Ingressus arched a brow. Some good and some bad news was an improvement over the last message, where it had been clear that Aegus was trying to control his frustration with the rest of the council. He listened as Kay went on.
"Achillean did manage to find another source on the timing of the Silencing, proving your information that it happened before the Voltaris exile. I presented it to the council but unfortunately, they claimed that wasn't enough proof to completely exonerate your clan."
Ingressus sighed quietly. That had been expected. Disappointing, but expected.
"On a brighter note," Kay continued, "The rumors of the Prime corruption are starting to take hold in the provinces. There have been past Champions beginning to speak of a sort of haze in their minds when they wield the Primes. Some have described it as a kind of barrier between their minds and their actions, as though they are more witness than participant to what they had done. Others have described it as though their conscious thoughts are muted under the tunes of the Primes, and still others have claimed that their consciousness remained audible but their quieter thoughts were drowned out. While Masters Atanal and Ferrin were ready to dismiss these conflicting accounts, Master Zael decided that he didn't have a good enough understanding of what we were dealing with. He has decided to give the Protiseum Prime to a willing member of his clan, not for any raids, but for observation in Mendoria, to see what effects can be observed."
Ingressus perked up at that. Another Master, taking the news of the corruption seriously? It took a large amount of self-control not to shout out finally! in Kay's face.
"One such Champion has found her way to me already," Kay went on, causing Ingressus's ears to jerk up in alarm. "As the only Master currently speaking against the Primes, I expected them to begin to seek me out. Fear not, I already informed your clanmates that this may happen, and they have adjusted their plans for contacting me accordingly."
Ingressus took a deep breath, trying to calm the spike of anxiety that had risen in him. His clan knew what they were doing. He could trust that they knew how to avoid those who sought Aegus out. The trust between a Master and their clan had to be mutual, his father had said. They were trusting in him to get them home. He could trust in their capabilities, and in their judgment on when it was essential to pass information on to Aegus.
"Lastly, I wish to thank you," Kay finished. "Last month there was an encounter in Nestoria between a Voltaris supply raid and a group of fishmongers traveling in the north of the province. The meeting may not exactly have been a peaceful one, but there were no fatalities on either side, and what injuries there were to my people were easily dealt with. I know that such a thing was quite uncommon in the past, and I presume their restraint was thanks to you. I am grateful for your and their willingness to pursue the path away from greater bloodshed. I hope we can speak more soon, and I wish you well on this endeavor."
Kay fell silent, ruffling her feathers as though to shake off the echoes of Aegus's voice. She looked at him with her head tilted, blinking expectantly. Ingressus held out the piece of bread he'd taken from the campfire, and the bird pecked at it happily.
"You remember where the aviary is?" Ingressus asked her.
The bird swallowed her chunk of bread, bobbing her head up and down. "The island on the south side, with all the birch trees and the peony bushes."
"That's the one," Ingressus said. "And thank you."
Kay took the rest of the bread in her claws, flying off to the aviary. Ingressus watched her go, thinking about what Aegus had said.
The Mendoris Master was taking the corruption seriously. Apparently he had always been one of the more rational and thoughtful Masters of the council. He was choosing to keep an Ardoni influenced by a Prime nearby, rather than letting them disappear off to the mountains to commit what crimes they felt like out of sight. The Voltaris had discovered the effects of the Primes by watching their clanmates be consumed by their tunes, an effect that was somehow greater than the sum of its parts should have been. Now Zael had the chance for the same.
The only issue is whether only ONE Prime will have enough of an effect to be noticed, Ingressus thought. Maybe I could suggest that Aegus offer the Aggressium Prime to that Ardoni, too, to better the odds of there being enough of an effect on them. As long as he can be sure that Ardoni will be kept under close control, anyway.
As for the rest of it… there were more Champions beginning to question the Primes, that was good. If they could overcome the addictive nature that Aegus and Thalleous had described in the past, then that would at least mean that any new Champions would be less experienced. The other clans still weren't sympathetic towards his, which was unfortunate, but once again expected. And his clan was at least avoiding unnecessary bloodshed with the Nestoris– it wouldn't do to alienate their only ally.
Ingressus thought again about the dilemma he'd grappled with. The combination of distraction and good news had driven the despair back, and his cause no longer felt as hopeless as it had hours before. He was still no closer to finding an answer, but utter failure felt… at least less inevitable than it had.
He still had to consider his odds. Still had to consider where he would be doing the most good. But still… it was surprising how much of a difference clearing his head had really made. Galleous had been right after all.
Ingressus walked back to the fire, finding everyone still sitting there and chatting happily. When Saylor saw him coming he perked up, gesturing around the fire.
"We took a vote while you were gone," he said. "Everyone agreed that I should get to use your sword next time we go mob hunting."
Ingressus sat down again with a snort. "Bold of you to assume I need to listen to that."
(10,202 words)
Magical interference is my theory for why Ingressus and Achillean's Songs were stripped away on Mount Velgrin– something about the portal or the temporal distortion or whatever forced the Songs to disconnect from them.