Okay, I admit, this one could've been two separate chapters. My bad.
How to tell you have Minecraft on the brain: You hear a random machine sound and you think "huh, that sounded like a sculk sensor."
Ataraxia looked the same as Ingressus remembered it. All the islands were still floating, there were no blast craters, and only a few faint trails of smoke from people's chimneys. Ingressus had been fairly certain that the Champion wouldn't harm his own clans, and truthfully, even a vengeful Champion would likely struggle to damage Ataraxia itself. But seeing proof, even from this distance, that calamity hadn't come was reassuring. Even so, normalcy could turn to catastrophe in an instant where raiders were involved. Ingressus wouldn't relax until he knew the Champion was gone.
The creaking of the stable door caught his attention, and his hand opened, ready to call his sword. But it was only Achillean who stepped out, his eyes going to Ingressus where he waited against the stable wall.
Ingressus lowered his hand again. "What's the news?"
"I walked the length of the place," Achillean reported. "The only person there was a Felina. No weapons worse than a shovel or a rake. No Sendaris and definitely no Champion."
Ingressus nodded. "Thank you."
It was the evening of the third day since they had left. By Galleous's word, he should've kicked his brother out by now. But Ingressus would take no chances. The council had sentenced him to working in the stables for beating up Selarin's gang, so with Achillean's all-clear, he walked the row of stalls, checking for any horses he hadn't seen before. It was late, and even the Felina Achillean had seen did nothing more than glance at them while stifling a yawn.
"Are there any outsiders lodging their horse here?" Ingressus asked her.
"Not that I know of," the Felina said tiredly.
Thank you for nothing.
Ingressus was reasonably sure she was right, but Achillean still took the lead as they crossed the bridge to the islands. Ingressus kept his eyes open, scanning for lines of fire, the flash of a Song, the blue of diamond or of the dreaded, hated markings. There was cover on the islands but the bridges were exposed, and every nerve was on alert as he and Achillean darted across their length. With every island there was still no Champion, and no one took any more notice of them than Antares, who gave Ingressus a weird look for using the line of peony bushes in his yard as cover.
It was on Bluebird Island that he spotted something that wiped the thoughts of the Champion from his mind. A motion of white through a gap in the bushes, a voice, indistinct but recognizable even without the words as Volerik talked to someone out of Ingressus's line of sight.
A sharp hiss from Ingressus made Volerik look up, his gaze lighting up as he saw Ingressus and ran towards him. "You're okay!"
He threw his arms around Ingressus. Luciren burst through the shrubs behind him and the three fell into a group hug. Ingressus felt the weight lift from his chest as he held the two close, his mind running a repeating track of they're safe, thank the stars, they're safe.
The Champion hadn't found them. He hadn't recognized their markings and decided they were as good as red. Ingressus held the twins close as they clung to him in return. They were his clanmates, in spirit, in blood, in all but name. And they were safe.
"Did anything happen?" he asked, pulling back to look them in the eyes. "Are you both okay?"
He saw Achillean wander off a ways in the corner of his eye, suddenly quite interested in a nearby birch tree.
"We're okay," Volerik said. "Mom kept us in the house while the Champion was here."
"She wouldn't let me throw a rotten watermelon at him," Luciren added sourly. "It's not like she could even sell it, so I wasn't wasting it."
"That's for the best," Ingressus said. "You don't want to provoke someone like him."
"If he'd hurt you, I would've done it anyway."
"No," Ingressus urged, lowering his voice. "If he's coming after you, then you do whatever is in your power against him. But if he doesn't suspect you, don't give him a reason to. Defending me would only endanger you, so for your own sake, don't."
Their white markings would offer them some protection. Unless some raider had met Milorus– and remembered his markings, out of who knew how many other Voltaris– they would have no reason to suspect that half the twin's blood came from the hated Voltaris clan.
"Well, he's gone," Volerik said. "So it doesn't matter anymore. Mom saw him leave this morning."
"Do you know what he was here for?"
Luciren shrugged. "Nope. I barely even saw him. He apparently visited Galleous, but I don't know what they talked about."
Well, if there had been a shouting match, that would definitely have been prime gossip material. But that still left the question of the Champion's purpose unanswered.
Ingressus straightened. "I should go talk to him."
Luciren threw her arms around his middle. "Stay safe. We'll see you later."
Achillean was leaning against the birch tree, looking at a daisy as Ingressus walked up to him. "He's gone."
Achillean looked as relieved as Ingressus felt. "That makes things easier."
He kept walking with Ingressus in the direction of the forge. "Have you decided about talking to Aegus yet?"
Ingressus recalled the long hours of weighing his options and considering what he knew about the Nestoris Master. "It's a risky proposition."
"I know," Achillean said. "But I really do think he'd be open to speaking with you."
Ingressus didn't respond. He knew that, eventually, he'd have to contact the other Masters in order to end his clan's exile. But he had expected to do so with the solution to the dead resonances in hand– with leverage, with bargaining power to get them to listen to what he had to say. To stand before them with nothing to offer but a sincere desire for peace… surely at best he would be laughed out of the meeting room, and at worst he would be killed. But if he could make an ally of at least one of them… It all came down to whether Aegus was trustworthy.
"I could feel things out for you tonight," Achillean offered. "Let you know where he stands in the morning before you decide."
Ingressus nodded. "That sounds good."
Ingressus paused at the entrance to the forge, listening. On hearing nothing suspicious, he turned back to Achillean in farewell. "Thank you for your help."
"No problem," Achillean said. "See you tomorrow."
Galleous was sitting at the table when Ingressus entered, his head leaning on his hand and a mug of tea in front of him. He looked up as Ingressus entered, his gaze distant and tired.
"Ah, hello, Ingressus," he said. "Welcome back."
"Hello," Ingressus said, looking around. Nothing was out of place, no signs of physical violence or of an outburst of anger. It was a relief, but it was also getting to be unnerving– what had the Champion wanted?
Violence or not, though, Galleous didn't look too good. "Are you all right?" Ingressus asked.
Galleous merely grunted halfheartedly. Not encouraging. What had the Champion done?
"So what did he want?" Ingressus asked, his anger seeping into his voice.
Galleous sighed, gazing at the ground. "Our father just died. His funeral is next week."
If any answer could've taken the wind out of Ingressus's sails, it was that one. "O- oh," he managed.
No signs of violence. No rumors about a fight. So this was why. The Champion– of all people, the Champion– hadn't come with ill intent at all.
"Was it sudden?" he asked hesitantly.
Galleous shook his head. "No. He'd been sick for a while."
He glanced up at Ingressus. "I'll likely be gone a week for the funeral. Will you be all right here on your own?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine," Ingressus said. "Don't worry about me, I'll take care of things here."
Ingressus cooked dinner that night. He didn't take no for an answer– he didn't even offer. He just threw some of his fish into the furnaces and lit them before Galleous got to the kitchen, and got to work chopping potatoes. Let Galleous not have to worry about things for a while.
He was just checking the fish when Galleous came back in from the balcony. The Sendaris made straight for the shelves, picking up a pair of dishes.
"I can do that,'' Ingressus told him, but Galleous waved the offer away.
"I could use something else to think about."
They ate mostly in silence, until Galleous asked a question. "So how was your fishing trip?"
Ingressus opened his mouth, but then hesitated. Should he dump what had happened on Galleous now? Surely he already had enough on his mind.
He saw Galleous looking curiously at him. Well, he'd hesitated too long; Galleous wouldn't buy it if he said nothing had happened. And he had said that he could use a distraction…
"Eventful," Ingressus said finally.
Galleous cocked his head. "How so?"
Ingressus drummed his fingers on the table. "Some Guardians came to find me. When I was in the ocean… there was something I'd lost. The Guardians returned them to me."
He laid Voltar and the sword on the table. Galleous looked at them, impressed.
"Family weapons, I assume?" he asked.
The sword is," Ingressus said. "These were my father's. He passed them on to me before… before the raid."
Would Galleous recognize Voltar? Achillean had. But Galleous didn't seem to make the connection. He looked over the weapons appraisingly, running his fingers along the flat of the sword.
"These are of exceptional quality," he said. "Do you know who forged them?"
"The sword is several generations old," Ingressus said. "I don't know who made it. The staff… Ardonia itself lent a hand to its creation."
Galleous looked up as Ingressus's hand hovered over the staff. "This… this is Voltar."
The words hung in the air, hovering like wisps of smoke. Ingressus watched as Galleous stared at him, his mouth half-open and his brow furrowed as though expecting Ingressus to say just kidding. Ingressus just watched him, waiting for Galleous to react, to say something.
"Voltar," Galleous said finally. "The Master staff of the Voltaris clan. It's yours."
Ingressus nodded. Galleous stared at him, then at Voltar, then at him again. Ingressus picked up the staff, feeling the weight settle into his hand as though it were made for him.
"This responsibility has fallen on me again," he mused. "Now more than ever, I need to find a way to help my clan."
Galleous was still staring at Voltar, his hand pressed to his forehead as though to keep himself upright. But then he lowered his hand again, glancing up to meet Ingressus's gaze. "So, what are you going to do?"
"Achillean believes that Master Aegus would be open to peace talks," Ingressus said. "I would appreciate your input before I decide whether to speak with him."
Galleous leaned his chin on his hand. "Aegus Nestoris is known for his nonaggression. Both in general, and towards the Voltaris specifically. And he does hate the raids. At the tournaments… the other Masters would have words of congratulations for the victor, but Aegus just handed the Prime over and walked away."
"But he did still give it to them," Ingressus said darkly.
"This is true," Galleous admitted.
He drummed his fingers on the table. "But if you had to reach out to any of them, I am sure that Aegus would be your best bet. He has spoken against the raids before, and there have been fewer Nestoris on the raids since he has led the clan; that would suggest that he is firm enough in his views that they have spread at least somewhat to his people."
"I will have to contact them at some point," Ingressus said. "But without anything to offer them– without even proof of my clan's innocence– how can I be sure he would listen?"
Galleous let out a breath. "Ultimately, this is your choice. But if Aegus is all he acts like, I would think that the offer of peace would be enough for him."
Ingressus gazed at Voltar, watching the reflected light dance along the diamond. He felt the staff's presence in his mind, the quiet support of the magic embodied in it. For generations, Voltaris Masters had done all in their power to either avoid the other clan Masters, or to avenge the fallen Voltaris slain by their order. It was the reality of war, of survival.
But just as centuries of war had done nothing to fix the resonances, neither had revenge or avoidance done anything to change the fate of his clan. That was why he was researching the resonances; continuing the old ways had long since proven itself futile. If he wanted to change his clan's fate, he couldn't do so by repeating the same things that had failed in the past. He had to take a risk.
"Do you want me to be there with you?" Galleous said.
Ingressus looked up at him. "I can't ask that of you. You have enough to worry about already."
"I'm still offering," Galleous said.
"Thank you, Galleous," Ingressus said. "But this is something I should do myself."
Night fell. Galleous turned in early, leaving the forge quiet and empty. Ingressus returned to his room to clear away the junk Galleous had used to disguise it as a storage area, then dug out his research to prepare. But before he had gotten far he paused, then laid the papers down again. No. He had read these dozens of times before. There was something else he needed to do.
The full moon was high above the horizon by the time he was ready. Ingressus's fingers were sore from scrubbing paint from the gravestones, his shoulders aching, but the paint was gone. The stones lay there in the moonlit grass, the carved markings invisible in the dim light. Ingressus lifted Voltar in one hand, gazing down at his parents' gravestones. He wanted to say something, to speak words that would commemorate the act. But anything he could say felt so paltry, so inadequate. So he just reached out, resting Voltar's blades against the stone and willing the magic to work.
He could feel the power flowing out of the staff, welling up and coursing along its length and out through the diamond. The red spread across the stone like water, gathering into the branching pattern of his mother's markings until they glowed like a trail of redstone across the marker.
Ingressus's breath caught in his throat, eyes burning at the sight of the markings he hadn't seen in so long. He bowed his head, breathing deeply as he felt Voltar mourning with him. The staff knew every Voltaris who had ever lived, through all the history of the clan, no matter if they had ever seen it, and Voltar grieved their loss, the wounds to its clan, the suffering of its people. But at the same time Ingressus felt it offering him strength in the face of the pain, a reassurance that the wounds in his heart would heal as they had for all the Masters before him. So with the strength that Voltar gave him, Ingressus lifted the staff and touched it to his father's gravestone.
Ingressus's face was wet with tears when the job was done. He knelt in the center of the clearing, Voltar held loosely in his grip as the light of the stones cast the clearing in a reddish tint. He traced the markings over his heart, recalling the faces of his clan. He remembered Gyarus and Raiden's stories, remembered the races he would have against Argentum and Cendir, remembered Sorays's games and Isanor's account of Voltaria, the home none of them had ever known.
"I'm going to end this," Ingressus said aloud.
He lifted his gaze, looking over the stones as he pressed a hand to his chest. "Our exile, the war, the raids, I won't let them continue. We will have peace, I promise you. Our people will make it back home."
He gazed at his father's grave. "I've been told that the Nestoris Master may be sympathetic to us. I plan to speak to him tomorrow. I don't know what will happen, but if he is an ally, It will make later contact with the other clans much easier.
"I know it's risky. But I have to try. For our people, for our future. We cannot win this war, not as it is. I have to end it, for our sake. And I will end it, whatever it takes."
Achillean was being unusually cryptic today. After going off on his own for a while in the morning, he had reappeared at the place he and Aegus were staying in and said only "there's someone I want you to meet." He didn't elaborate further as Aegus walked with him through Ataraxia, just gave vague, evasive answers whenever Aegus tried to ask him what this was about.
Was he in some kind of trouble? He did look somewhat apprehensive, but surely he would have just told Aegus if he was? He wasn't frantic enough for someone to be hurt, at least there was that. But Aegus just couldn't figure out what was happening.
He got his answer soon enough, though. Achillean led him to an island on the edge of town, then abruptly stopped at the edge of the path and turned to him.
"Remember last night, when I asked you about peace with the Voltaris?" he said, with the air of someone about to rip off a bandage.
"Yes…" Aegus said slowly.
Achillean took Aegus's arm and pulled him past a stand of bushes. "I want you to meet my friend. This is Ingressus, Master of the Voltaris."
Aegus had only half a second to believe it was all a prank. He didn't know what to process first when the illusion was shattered: the red markings, that pattern that he knew, had seen before but now flame-orange instead of crimson, the curving diamond of the staff, the Ardoni holding it who was no older than Achillean, watching him with apprehension but standing tall as he inclined his head and spoke a simple greeting.
"Master Aegus."
Achillean was standing off to the side, biting his lip as he watched Aegus. They were waiting for him to speak, to respond, and so Aegus shook off his shock and inclined his head in turn. "Master Ingressus. It is an honor to meet you."
Both boys visibly relaxed at his words. Achillean slumped and let out a quiet sigh. Ingressus's wary gaze softened slightly, his ears lowering and his grip loosening on the staff.
"You are known for your opposition to the raids on my clan," Ingressus said. "For centuries my people have been suffering, due to the other clans' belief that we were the ones to destroy the resonances. But whatever happened is not in our power to undo, and any offenses from the past war have been more than paid for. If you are as sympathetic as people claim, I wish to ask for your help in ending my clan's exile."
Aegus wasn't surprised– well, not at the request itself; he had a feeling he would still need to take some time later to process who he was speaking to. But what else would the Voltaris Master want from him?
"The violence has gone on far too long," Aegus agreed. "But I admit, I have had little success at stopping it so far. Do you have a plan in mind?"
"Outside of revenge, the resonances have been the biggest reason– or rather, excuse– for the raids," Ingressus said, a flash of disgust flickering across his face. "I've been looking for a way to restore them, or at least to exonerate my clan for their deaths. The old Masters began this war over them; if they can be restored, that will deprive the clans of an excuse to attack mine."
"And give you bargaining power to end your exile," Aegus guessed.
Ingressus lifted his chin. "Yes."
"The war is bad for all of us," Achillean spoke up. "Aran lost his arm. Naveus is almost blind and he's only a hundred. Saliph died. Everyone thinks that this is just the way things are, that it has to be this way for our own defense, but none of it had to happen."
"And I agree," Aegus said. "Our clans have been so consumed by the past that we have not been able to see any new ways forward. Restoring the resonances may be the force needed to shake us loose. But I worry that the resonances are only part of the problem. If the rifts of hatred between the clans are not given the opportunity to heal, then the war may only continue, with more weapons available to both sides."
Ingressus nodded grudgingly. "That will be its own problem. But I will forego revenge in the name of peace, and I think you will, as well."
He studied Aegus, gauging his reaction. Aegus was getting the impression that either Ingressus was more desperate than he let on, or this hadn't been entirely his idea. He clearly was only barely willing to trust Aegus. He was watching Aegus's reactions, likely trying to determine whether the situation was too good to be true.
Six centuries of animosity. Six centuries of hatred, six centuries of his clan being hunted down like animals by the other four. Many of Ingressus's predecessors had surely been killed in the conflict; to stand before Aegus now, to reach out to him for aid and abandon the protection of secrecy to do so… why wouldn't he be wary?
"I will," Aegus said, holding his gaze. "There are those in my clan who want to avenge their lost brothers and sisters, just as I'm sure there are among the Voltaris. But if we can achieve a cease-fire, I will ensure that they know I will not condone further bloodshed."
Ingressus took in his words, then gave a slow nod in acknowledgement. In the decision to trust.
"So where do I come into your plan?" Aegus asked. "Do you need resources to find the solution to the resonances?"
"That will be helpful," Ingressus said. "Particularly anything pertaining to the source of the magic. But I will need your help and support in contacting the other Masters when the time comes. You are respected among the clans; I will need your backing to get the other Masters to listen to me."
"I will be glad to help you," Aegus said. "To end the war."
He held out a hand to shake but Ingressus didn't take it, just met his eyes with a gaze that had suddenly grown cold.
"There is still a question I have to ask of you," he said. "I know that despite your words against the tournaments, you have still given your Prime Song to the Champions. I want to know why."
Ah. Aegus lowered his gaze. It was a fair question, one he should have expected. But it was one he feared he would not have a satisfactory answer for. How could any answer satisfy the one whose people's blood had been shed for it, time and again?
No. It couldn't. Aegus could only explain.
"The tournaments have been going on for nearly as long as your people have been exiled," he said. "For so many in the four clans, they are simply the way things have always been; for others, they are a thing of honor and glory."
Ingressus made a disgusted growl. Achillean shifted uncomfortably, glancing between them.
"I tried to refuse, once," Aegus said. "I simply did not attend the tournament. The other Masters came looking for me, of course, and I told them I would not be handing over the Aggressium Prime. They argued, but I stood my ground until they gave up. Or at least, I thought they had. I had thought that even if I couldn't stop the raids entirely, I could still keep a powerful weapon out of play. But then I discovered that when the other Masters couldn't convince me, they had resorted to going behind my back and simply taking the Prime themselves."
Aegus expected a snide comment about his ability to safeguard the Prime Song. He'd made them to himself a number of times, beating himself up over his failure to follow through with his ultimatum. But Ingressus said nothing, merely watched Aegus as though sensing that the story wasn't over.
"I feared that if I kept refusing, and they kept claiming it anyway, that the chances of the Prime falling into the wrong hands– into worse hands– would only rise. I made the call that it would be safer for Ardonia to keep the Prime under my control, such as it were."
He bowed his head to the other Master. "But I know that your people have suffered from my failure, and for that, I can only apologize."
Ingressus didn't say anything for a minute. Aegus glanced up, seeing the hard set to the Voltaris's jaw, the cold anger in his eyes as he processed the explanation.
"Are you aware of how the Primes can corrupt their users?" he said finally.
Aegus nodded solemnly. "That kind of license to act on your worst desires… to be given such power and free reign to use it without consequence… those who would abuse it would undoubtedly be attracted to such power, and getting away with it would only make them worse."
Ingressus shook his head. "No, I don't mean that way. The Primes will drown out parts of an Ardoni's being. It will stifle parts of their mind, drowning out the weaker parts of them. Mercy, hesitation… if there was ever any of that in the first place it won't be any longer. All that is left will be the strongest parts of them: fear, anger, hatred, their greatest goals turned to obsessions that will consume them and everyone around them. I have seen what the raiders do– and they go far beyond the justifications that others believe they have. It is not just the fact of having power that corrupts them– the Prime Songs create monsters."
Achillean was staring at him as Ingressus finished his speech. "The Primes do what?"
Aegus opened his mouth, then closed it again. "This… this would explain so much…"
Ingressus pressed a hand to his forehead, suddenly looking much more like the thirty-something boy he was. "Void and Nether, you truly didn't know? None of you ever knew?"
Aegus hadn't. He had assumed that it was merely the psychological consequences of power, used and permitted to be used for such horrendous purposes, that was cause for the changes he had seen in his clanmates from before and after the raids. But if it wasn't… If there was something worse that was actively influencing them… But that meant that he was responsible, that he had allowed his clanmates to be corrupted in such a way by his failure to keep the Prime unused.
Aegus knew the look on Ingressus's face as the Voltaris lowered his hand, the I'm trying hard not to say what's going through my head right now look. "All the more reason why you should want the war over as well."
"All the more reason," Aegus agreed. "You asked for my help in ending this war, and I will gladly give it to you." He pressed a hand to his heart. "Please, forgive my ignorance, and allow me to make up for my failures to our own kind."
Ingressus nodded. "For peace."
"For peace."
Aegus slung Nestor off his back and held the tip out to Ingressus. The Voltaris hesitated, glancing down at the staff.
The act wasn't merely to formalize a deal, though both Nestor and Voltar would bear witness to the events. It was a gesture of allegiance that was more than merely transactional; an offer of friendship between the Masters. Aegus worried he had overstepped but then Ingressus reached out, touching Voltar's blades to Nestor's.
Aegus felt the magics touch each other, red and yellow auras sparking to life in his mind's eye where the diamond touched. The magic swirled almost curiously around each other, then flowed over the opposite staff before each returned to its home, glowing softly in contentment. Ingressus lowered Voltar, his eyes running over the staff as though the magic had left a visible trace.
How long had it been since the Voltaris had sealed such an alliance? Far longer than Ingressus had been alive, longer even than Aegus had been alive. The Voltaris clan had stood alone for so long, cast out and rejected in the frozen mountains to the north. But now, with determination and perhaps some luck, that had the potential to change.
"I will stall the tournaments as much as I can," Aegus said. "Perhaps I can arrange things to otherwise occupy those in Nestoria who would attend them."
"Maybe this news about the corruption will help, too," Achillean offered. "Maybe it will give the other Masters pause for thought."
Maybe it would. Aegus hoped so, that would make things easier. But another, less optimistic side of him tugged at his mind as he turned to Ingressus and asked another question. "The Prime Songs… can their corruption affect an Ardoni even when they are not being used?"
Ingressus seemed to realize the concern behind Aegus's question as he answered. "I don't know."
Aegus nodded in acknowledgement. Well, he had another few days to figure something out before he made it back home. He would have to make good use of it.
"I am honored by your trust in me," he said, inclining his head to Ingressus in farewell. "May fate smile on this endeavor."
"I hope it will," Ingressus replied.
Aegus wandered Ataraxia for a while after the conversation, lost in thought. Achillean had told him the story of how he'd met Ingressus, as well as the events of the past few days, which answered a number of Aegus's questions. After extracting a promise that Achillean would inform him ahead of time the next time he arranged a diplomatic meeting for him, Aegus had left Achillean to his own devices and wandered the town, thinking deeply about the younger Master.
Achillean had spoken well of Ingressus, for the most part. But he had also admitted to being afraid of what Ingressus might do to the recently-visiting Champion.
He talked like he truly wanted to kill him, Achillean had said. He did talk himself out of it eventually, but I was afraid that after the Guardians gave Voltar back to him, that he would change his mind. That was part of why I suggested he speak to you– I hoped that the chance of peace talks would give him an extra reason not to.
Ingressus's desire to kill the Champion was… troubling, Aegus wouldn't deny that. But at the same time, it also offered proof of his words: I will forego revenge in the name of peace.
Master Ingressus would have had justification to execute the Champion. As a Master at war, concerning an enemy who had proven himself a severe threat to the Voltaris… Ingressus would have had grounds to carry out such a punishment. Not that such grounds would likely have mattered to Master Atanal, but still– despite having both the authority and personal reasons to demand the Champion's life, Ingressus had declined the chance. He had not opened peace talks with blood on his hands.
Aegus found himself on an island on the southern edge of town. Long vines stretched from the trees to the next island over, gently swaying in the air like mooring lines. A small sea of daisies stretched across the green grass, interspersed by a set of stepping-stones that led across the inhabitants' yards from the gravel road.
Aegus needed to talk to someone. And he knew who it would be. He walked along the stepping-stones where they led to a small seating area outside Keleus's cave, near the edge of the island. His old friend was sitting at his outdoor table and reading a book, but he looked up as Aegus neared.
"Ah, hello again," he greeted. "What brings you to my humble home this time?"
Aegus smiled, but his expression quickly sobered again. "I'm afraid it isn't just a social call this time. There are some things I need to ask you about."
Keleus straightened, closing his book as he gestured at the chair across from him. "Have a seat."
Aegus did, leaning Nestor against the table as Keleus set his book aside.
"So what'd you want to talk about?" Keleus asked.
Aegus traced the grain of the wood with his fingers as he spoke. "Who, actually. Ingressus."
Keleus straightened. "So you've met him."
Aegus nodded. "He approached me for help in ending his clan's exile."
"Hmmm," Keleus said. "That's a little surprising. He doesn't trust outsiders easily."
"I wager that's why you've never mentioned him to me before?"
Keleus shrugged. "I didn't think he would appreciate it. Voltaris or not, he's a good kid. But the fact is, our kind is set against him. There are still some in Ataraxia who distrust him, even after having ten years to get used to his existence."
"Ten years?" Aegus echoed. How old had Ingressus been when he got here?
Keleus nodded. "Yep. One day out of nowhere, Galleous shows up with a Voltaris kid in the marketplace and declares Ingressus is under his care. Some in the council weren't thrilled about it, but as Ingressus hadn't actually done anything wrong, they didn't have any basis to kick him out. He's lived here ever since."
Achillean's account had given Aegus several pieces to the puzzle of Ingressus's history. Keleus now provided more. Ingressus had been granted Voltar as a child, when an attack on his group was imminent. He had washed up in Ataraxia some time later, with the Guardians having taken the Master staff for unknown reasons. Someone– Galleous, evidently– had taken pity on Ingressus and taken him in, granting him a place to live and some relative safety. Ten years had passed, and the Guardians had apparently deemed him worthy of holding Voltar once more, returning the staff to its wielder.
"So," Keleus said. "What do you want to know about him?"
"I said I would help him end the war," Aegus said. "And I intend to. But I'd like to know more about the person I'll be working with."
Keleus nodded. "Well, like I said, he's a good kid. Persistent, clever, ambitious– he wants to restore the resonances, but I'd guess he already told you that. So many would consider that an impossible task by now, or that you'd at least need to be an Etheria-trained mage to even have a chance. But Ingressus sure isn't letting that stop him."
"Do you think he has a chance at it?"
"He certainly has more on the line for it than anyone," Keleus said. "He cares deeply about his clan– even not having seen them in a decade, even with those in Ataraxia who aren't shy about shaming him for his red markings, who want to turn him against them, or who hound him about the resonances because they think he's researching them for some nefarious purpose– he is determined to change their fate. Whatever the answer is, however long it takes him– he sees the resonances as the key to helping his clan. I don't think he'll give up until he succeeds."
"The Voltaris's research into the Songs was what caused them to be blamed for the resonances' deaths," Aegus said. "Maybe he knows something about them we don't."
"Maybe," Keleus said. "I think if anyone could solve this mystery, it'd be him."
Aegus sighed, drumming his fingers on the table. "Do you think this is the right way to go about it?"
Keleus cocked his head. "What do you mean?"
"I've tried to stop the raids," Aegus said. "I've tried talking to the other Masters, I tried just flat-out refusing to give them the Prime Song. I've used every argument I can think of, more than once, and I've had no success. They believe the Voltaris are out for our blood as much as we have been out for theirs. What if, when the resonances are restored, the war only intensifies? Even if he is willing to lead his clan to peace, I fear the other Masters might not believe it."
Keleus sat forward, leaning his elbows on the table. "Think about it this way," he said. "Ingressus is only thirty-four, but he's the best swordsman I've ever seen. I saw him sparring one against two last week and he made it look easy. To just go back to the Barrier Mountains and rejoin his clan, fight the war on their side, kill our people in defense of his– it would've been the easy path for him, and quite frankly I'd pity any raiders who came across him. But instead, he's taking on a challenge that has baffled our kind for centuries, and he dares to take it to you, and eventually to the rest of the Masters. He's smart; he'd have thought of the same dangers you did, and probably others besides. This path is such a high risk for him, with no guarantee of success. I'd love to hear the other Masters try and come up with an evil motive for going to all this trouble that in any way makes sense."
Aegus wanted to believe him. He wanted to accept the reassurance and let go of his concerns, to have that same level of hopeful confidence he'd had when he'd first taken up Nestor and thought I can make a difference.
But the years of futility and failure weighed heavy on him. And now there was something more, a new concern that might make the task even harder…
He didn't want to know the answer. Part of him wanted to continue in ignorance, to not ask the question at all for fear of the answer. But he couldn't. He couldn't just neglect a possible obstacle and hope it wouldn't matter.
"Keleus," he said. Keleus looked at him, hearing the uncertainty in his voice.
Aegus clasped his hands together, leaning them against his chin as he spoke. "We've been friends for a century and a half. I need you to be honest with me now, even if you think I won't like the answer."
Keleus nodded wordlessly, concern in his eyes. Aegus took a deep breath.
"Ingressus told me that the Prime Songs corrupt Ardoni," he said. "Please, I need you to tell me… do you think it has corrupted me?"
Keleus frowned. "But you've never used it, have you?"
"Never," Aegus said. "I've never even gone near it if I had the choice; I've always hated what it represents. But I don't know how this corruption works. I– please, Keleus, if you think the Prime Song has been corrupting me, I need to know."
Keleus was silent for a long moment, his gaze distant. Aegus waited, dreading his friend's answer.
"According to Ingressus, the corruption works by the tune of the Song drowning out parts of your mind," Keleus said finally. "Which would imply that you'd go back to normal once you're away from it again."
He glanced up at Aegus, as though hoping that that would be answer enough. But on seeing the look on Aegus's face he sighed, lowering his gaze.
"I had always thought it was odd that you gave up on keeping the Prime away from the tournaments after just one time," he said finally. "But that is the only thing I can think of."
Aegus slumped. "I see."
Keleus jabbed a finger at him. "Listen to me, Aegus. Don't you dare get all despairing on me. You've been Master for almost fifty years, and Prime corruption or not, you've been fighting an uphill battle all this time to make peace with those who have been our enemies for longer than either of us have been alive. You love our clan with all your heart, and aside from that one time with the Prime Song, you've always chosen what was right over what was easy. You've done all in your power to make peace, and I know you'll continue to do so. So get that self-doubt out of your head right now. I won't stand for it."
A laugh escaped Aegus and he sat up again. Keleus's stern gaze drilled into him, but it soon cracked into a smile as well at Aegus's amusement.
"You know, he's not the first Voltaris I've met," Aegus said. "And, actually– I'd met his father, long ago."
Keleus straightened in surprise. "Wait, on that trading run you were on, that was attacked? His father was there?"
"His father, his uncle, it could've been either," Aegus admitted. "But Ingressus's markings are the same as his. He was the one who let us go."
He remembered being back at the caravan, crouching on the hard earth with his hands held up in surrender, staring at the barely-adult Voltaris with a bloodied sword aimed right at his chest.
"You don't have to do this," he'd said. "Just let us go, and we'll let you do the same. No one else needs to be hurt."
The Voltaris's hands were shaking, his red eyes a bright contrast to the scarlet liquid running down his sword. Aegus had caught one of the older Voltaris whisper something about 'first kill' to another, nodding at the unsteady Voltaris who guarded Aegus now. Perseid's body lay just around the front of the cart, his blood still staining his killer's forearms in a macabre parody of the driplike markings there. But despite the burden of taking a life, he still had the presence of mind to snarl at Aegus.
"We don't have to? You forced us to do this! You murder us without cause and now you say we shouldn't do the same? We wouldn't have to be here if you'd just leave us alone! Wasn't exiling us enough for you? Why do you have to kill us, too?!"
Aegus heard someone rummaging around in the cart behind him, saw a handful of redstone levers getting chucked out the back as the Voltaris bandit made a disgusted noise. Behind his guard an older Voltaris paced, an arrow nocked on his bow and ready to fire at a moment's notice if any of their captives moved wrong.
"Don't bother talking to him, Dominus," he said. "His clan doesn't care about justice, or the innocence of those in our clan. Besides, they'll be dead soon enough."
Aegus saw Dominus twitch at the words, even as his own heart sank and he heard a whimper from another captive. Two Nestoris had already fallen, and a third had an arrow protruding from her shoulder. If it came to a fight, there was no doubt that they would lose.
"Just take whatever you want," Aegus told his captors. "I won't try to stop you. Just leave us with our lives."
An arrow sprouted from the ground, barely an inch from his knee. Aegus recoiled, banging his head against the side of the cart and falling to the ground as the archer laughed.
"I'm sure you won't," he said. "Just like your Champions don't harm our children or our sick clanmates. Don't worry, Nestoris, you'll get the same mercy you give to us."
Aegus sat up, rubbing at the back of his head. His gaze darted to the arrow still buried in the ground, but he abandoned that idea when Dominus snapped at him. It would've been a poor plan, anyway.
"You don't want to do this, do you?" he realized, his voice low. "You don't want to kill us."
"Better that than your people killing mine," Dominus retorted.
That was the logic of many among the four clans: take the fight to the Voltaris to keep them from attacking the provinces. Keep them weak, so they wouldn't be able to launch a full-scale war against the rest of the Ardoni. It was them or us, everyone said. Apparently that "everyone" was more universal than Aegus had believed.
"You can see they're not soldiers." Aegus nodded at the other captives. "Believe me, we just want to go home safe."
"Shut up," Dominus snapped. "If we let you go, you'll just alert your raiders and get them to hunt us down. Either you die, or we and everyone in our camp dies."
"Let us go," Aegus said, "And I swear we will not follow you. It's obvious we're outmatched; we know we can't fight you and win. You won't need to use that again."
He nodded to Dominus's sword, to the red that still clung to its iron blade. Dominus's gaze darted to the weapon, then back to Aegus.
"It's several hours to the nearest town," Aegus said. "You'd have plenty of time to get away before we could alert anyone. You'd have our horses, our supplies, everything. If you let us go, I will owe you a debt. I will not alert the raiders to you. All of us can walk away from this without consequence."
Dominus's ear twitched. "I can't trust you."
"And my clan believes we can never trust yours," Aegus pointed out. "We'll both be taking a risk here."
Dominus faltered, his gaze flickering from Aegus to his clanmate to the captives to his bloodstained sword in indecision.
"To be honest, I'd only really said the part about not alerting the raiders because I figured it was what he wanted to hear," Aegus recalled, as Keleus listened intently, leaning his chin on his fist. "But when it actually worked… when he actually distracted the archer to let us run…"
"He'd kept his end of the deal, so you kept yours," Keleus guessed.
Aegus nodded. "I was desperate. He looked like the most reluctant of the bandits, so I thought he was the most likely one I could talk into sparing us. I really wasn't sure it would work, but what else was I going to do? I just talked, and it worked."
"And then you started wondering why all the violence was ever necessary?"
"Exactly," Aegus said. "Dominus truly believed that he– or at least his clanmates– had to kill us to keep themselves safe. The archer said that they would be giving us the same mercy the raiders gave them. I couldn't help but look into what really happened on the raids, and, well… I didn't like what I found."
He had never known what had happened to Dominus after that day. Whether he had been punished for letting them go, whether his part in their escape had ever been discovered, what had been happening to him in the Barrier Mountains with the raids, the harsh winters, the barren landscapes. Dominus was the reason he had argued against the raids, the indiscriminate attacks on any Voltaris the four clans could find. Even if there were those among the Voltaris who did wish the clans ill, he could no longer believe that all among the exiled clan were monsters. The four clans could not call themselves the heroes of the fight if they did not even attempt to discern the innocent from the guilty.
Aegus had never expected to learn Dominus's fate. But he realized now what it must have been. He had grown older, fallen in love, and had a son. He had been named Master at some point, just as Aegus had been. He had led his clan through all the trials and triumphs the mountains threw at the Voltaris. And then ten years ago he had been killed, his last act to pass Voltar, and responsibility for his people, on to his son.
Aegus owed Dominus his life. He was only alive because Dominus had decided to trust him, had chosen to take that risk to prevent bloodshed. He lived on because of the mercy of a Voltaris, and Songs aid him, he would make good on that debt.
(8068 words)
Help me out, guys– is it at all possible to put yourself out when you're on fire in the Nether? Or do you just have to eat to keep your health up and wait it out? I have lost so freaking much stuff from ghasts and blazes setting me on fire, please tell me there's a way.