Remember how I'd said last time that I was distracted by roleplays? One of them is actually being novelized, so if you want to see what was diverting my attention from this fic, you can! Kudos to Writer_Phoenix on Wattpad for taking our chaos and making something presentable out of it. The story is titled "The Warning," so go check it out and give Phoenix some attention! It's a Second Great War AU with loads of lore, OCs, and general chaos, written with tears of laughter and pain. It's been a lot of fun to roleplay and I hope it's as much fun to read.

Simon would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy seeing the children of Ataraxia sprinting across the islands as he and Nightwing flew over Ataraxia. They ran along the paths below as the dragon flew over the town, staring up as they chased him and making Simon concerned for their safety around the edges of the floating islands. But they clearly knew their way around their own town, judging by the lack of sudden screaming. He could see a few parents pulling the youngest kids back as Nightwing came in to land outside the forge, leaving a clear space for the dragon to touch down.

Nightwing had clearly enjoyed the attention last time. The minute the dragon's claws hit the ground he reached out his head, nudging the nearest child with an inquisitive growl. The child, a green-striped Ardoni, squealed in happiness and ran her hands over Nightwing's horns. Simon climbed down from the dragon's back and Nightwing lowered himself to the ground, resting his chin on the grass and staring up at the children like an oversized dog.

Simon rubbed the dragon's neck. "Have fun. Don't let the attention go to your head."

Nightwing stuck out his tongue at Simon, then turned and licked another nearby kid. The kid giggled and Simon turned away in amusement, walking into the forge. He hit the stone wall with the side of his fist, the faint smacking having nothing on the volume of knocking on an actual wooden door.

"Hello?" Simon called. What was the title of respect the Ardoni used? "Ky-Galleous?"

He heard someone talking from inside the cave, and then the blacksmith appeared.

"Welcome back to Ataraxia," The blue Ardoni said. (Sendaris, Simon recalled, that was the name of the clan. And the Ardoni used their clan names as last names, rather than having a family name. So it was fine to call Ardoni by their first name even if you didn't know them well, because the clan name would be too unspecific.)

Simon shook Galleous's hand, his mind snapping away from the lesson on Ardoni formalities as the smith went on. "Your armor's ready for you. I'm sure you'll find it satisfactory."

Galleous led Simon into the forge, around the bend in the cave to his workplace. There was a second Ardoni there, Simon realized, one he hadn't met the last time. His stripes were a surprising red-orange shade, a color Simon hadn't seen before. Had he forgotten about a clan?

The red-striped Ardoni looked up from where he was cleaning an iron gauntlet as Simon entered, and set the piece aside, walking over to greet him.

"I take it you're the new enderknight I've heard about," the Ardoni greeted, shaking Simon's hand.

"I am," Simon confirmed. He hadn't seen this Ardoni the last time he was here, maybe Galleous had hired an apprentice since then.

"This is Ingressus Voltaris," Galleous said. "You two missed getting to meet each other when you were here last. Ingressus, this is Sir Simon."

Voltaris. That was it. Simon filed the name away. He was almost certain he'd never heard it before, but now he could avoid the awkward moment of having to admit ignorance.

"It's nice to meet you, Ingressus," Simon said, and the Ardoni gave a respectful nod in return. He seemed to somehow… relax at Simon's words, as though learning he had passed some sort of test. Authority-figure awkwardness, maybe? At least there wasn't any of the fawning that he'd gotten that one time in the Hydraphel district. That had been uncomfortable. Cassius had said he would get used to it, but Simon couldn't quite believe that yet.

"Your armor is right over here," Galleous said, beckoning Simon after him. There was an armor stand at one wall, on which was hanging a set of night-black armor gleaming in the light. Simon could see the blue glow of Galleous's stripes reflected in the glossy surface, mirrored on the opposite side by the orange of the lava basin.

"Once you touch it the armor will activate," Galleous said. "No one but an enderknight will be able to lift it."

Simon nodded, taking in the armor. He reached out a hand, hesitated, then rested his fingertips against the chestplate.

Purple light bloomed into existence under his fingertips, the glow spreading out and flowing across the armor like a cascading fountain or flickering dragonfire. Simon watched in awe as the light settled into its patterns; diagonal lines tracing down from the shoulders, dimmer bars tracing the shins and forearms, two dashes across the torso. The eye gaps in the helmet shone a bright violet, staring out at Simon as though the armor had a mind its own behind them.

"I never thought I'd get to witness this," Ingressus said, his gaze tracing over the armor. "Is it true that obsidian comes from scraps of the First Dragon's shed scales?"

Simon looked at him in surprise. "That's what they say, but how in Ardonia do you know about that?"

"A lot of people here know a thing or two about magic," Galleous told him, a hint of pride in his voice. "But Ingressus is undeniably the expert."

Ingressus, strangely, didn't look proud or even embarrassed by the praise. "Well, I've needed to be. And, actually, that ties into something I hoped to discuss with you. I need the enderknights' help."

Simon cocked his head. "What for?"

"Well, not me, so much as my clan," Ingressus said. "I'd guess you've never met an Ardoni with red markings before."

Simon shook his head. "I haven't."

He hadn't thought much of that fact earlier. He was still learning the politics of the different districts and species that filled Ardonia, it wasn't too much of a surprise that there would be some things he wouldn't know. But given that Ingressus had expected him not to know…

"I didn't think so. There aren't many of us left, compared to what we once were, and we aren't exactly welcome around other Ardoni."

Simon's confusion must've shown, because Ingressus added, "My case is a lucky exception– and the only one I've ever known. Many Ardoni wouldn't allow someone of my clan to live."

If Simon hadn't hidden his emotions last time, he definitely hadn't now. The red Ardoni looked at him with a mix of disappointment and resignation, a trace of anger yet no surprise in his crimson eyes.

Simon tried to remember anything he'd heard about an Ardoni civil war or a fifth clan. He had vague memories of learning the history of the clans as a child, but never in significant detail… Cassius hadn't mentioned anything but the Ardoni provinces were more independent from the Enderking than the other districts… blast it, why'd I have to be hit with something I'm this ignorant about—

But was there really anything to be said for pretending? If he was to help he would need to know what was going on, and besides, he'd already given his ignorance away. What was a diplomatic, enderknight-worthy way to say "I'm sorry, I didn't know your problem existed?"

So much for not having to admit ignorance.

"Forgive me," Simon said. "I'm not very familiar yet with current Ardoni politics. I'm afraid I haven't been informed of your clan's situation. Would you be willing to enlighten me?"

There. That would hopefully stop his ignorance from coming across as apathy. But Ingressus once again looked disappointed but unsurprised, leaving Simon to bizarrely feel as though he were the one to have failed a test.

"Many outside the Ardoni are ignorant of what the Voltaris face," Ingressus said, then gave a sharp, bitter sigh. "Nether, even many Ardoni don't fully realize the extent of it. We've been largely forgotten– by all but those we most need to forget us."

He turned to meet Simon's gaze again. "My clan was exiled from the provinces centuries ago, after a war against the other four. If the rest of the Ardoni had had their way, we would no longer be living in Ardonia at all. As it is, we've managed to keep our foothold here, but the other clans are still determined to track down and destroy the last refuges we have."

Simon glanced at Galleous unconsciously. The smith was organizing his supplies nearby, but though his expression was somber his gaze was focused on his task. The conversation was to be between the two of them, it seemed.

"Do you know about the Prime Songs?" Ingressus asked.

"I know of them," Simon said. "I know they are the most powerful Songs your kind can use, though I don't know their significance beyond that."

"You know enough for this, then," Ingressus said. "They are powerful– difficult if not impossible to stand against. My clan discovered them long ago, but after the war I mentioned, they were taken from us, and turned against us soon after that. In all the time since then, the other clans have been using our own discovery to drive us closer and closer to extinction. The war that sent us into exile never really stopped for us."

Ingressus was calm at first appearance. But underneath his composure Simon could hear a deep current of bitterness and anger in his voice, could see dark memories behind the narrowed red eyes. Simon glanced down, taking fresh notice of the scars along the Ardoni's gray skin. Some could be dismissed as the simple perils of an ordinary life– a thin cut across the hand or the signs of a frequently-scraped knee. But others showed clear signs of greater violence– a long scar arcing around his shin, a puncture mark in his upper arm as though from an arrow, another that looked… concerningly like a bite mark. (Actually, that one could be a zombie bite.) But still… it was clear that Ingressus wasn't just giving a history lecture. He had lived the fight he described.

"So what do you need from the enderknights?" Simon asked. "Are you hoping to get our support in the war?"

"I wouldn't turn it down," Ingressus admitted. "My people need all the help we can get. But my plans are different. I want to end this fight, and get my people back to our old home. What we will need is legitimacy- the recognition and support of Crown Peak after our return, so the other clans can't just turn on us again."

Simon nodded slowly, slightly relieved that he hadn't just been tasked with getting the enderknights to declare war. That would've been a nether of a thing to take back to King Rendor.

"I should give you this disclaimer, I won't be able to promise you anything for certain here," Simon said. "For something like this, I will need to take this information back to the Enderking, and let him decide what our response will be."

Ingressus nodded. "I understand. I hope that he will prove to be more compassionate to us than his predecessors."

Simon frowned. "You've sought the enderknights' help before?"

"Of course," Ingressus said. "We've looked for allies many times over the centuries. The enderknights, Northwind– Cydonia and K'arthen, back when we still had our havens there… but even when we were given aid, it was never permanent, or significant enough to help us stand against the other clans and the Prime Songs."

Simon frowned. To be turned down for aid or refuge once or twice was one thing, and could have any number of explanations. Corruption, a lack of resources available to help, political snarls that stalled and halted the wanted assistance. But…

"Why would you be turned down so consistently?" Simon asked. "For no one to have given you aid in all these centuries– forgive me, but… for that pattern to have gone on for so long, I can't help but wonder if there was some reason for it."

"We have gotten some aid in the past," Ingressus said. "Though it usually amounted more to simple tolerance. Allowing our people the space to trade with local businesses without interference, not driving us away or actively revealing our presence to the other clans. On the occasions when we could have more than a one-off trade relationship with other settlements, it was often with small individual towns. If we tried to contact larger governments, the odds of encountering other Ardoni became too high– and then all we had tried to gain would be forfeit, and the raiders who pursued us would have an ideal place to start searching for us."

"But larger governments could protect you better," Simon pointed out. "If you could make an alliance with them, they could stand between you and the other clans' anger. Isn't that why you're asking me for help now?"

"It is," Ingressus said. "But I think you overestimate the shape my clan is in. We have barely anything that we could offer the larger governments in return for their protection– it takes all we have just to survive. Formally allying with us, or taking my people in, would break their relations with the rest of the Ardoni, and there isn't enough we can offer to make 'our side of the bargain' worth it to them."

He sighed. "The clans' aggression towards us is the root of our struggles. That's what really needs to be resolved if we can return to our lands. I'm working on a way that should at least give my people something to bargain for our return with. But the distrust is strong, and the Voltaris wouldn't have the strength to stand up to the others alone if they turn on us again. What I hope, is that the support of the enderknights and Crown Peak will deter further aggression from them, and give my people a chance to restore ourselves."

Something was nagging at Simon's mind. He didn't think Ingressus was lying, but something still felt off. Would there have never been a leader with enough compassion to help an exiled and besieged people? Even if the Voltaris were reluctant to risk contact, surely they would've at least tried at some point?

And then there was the matter of the Ardoni's war. Simon hadn't known about a fifth clan or a civil war, but there was another long conflict he had heard of that the Ardoni were engaged in… one that used to be a joint effort between them and Northwind, which Ingressus had spoken of as though his clan were near…

"Where is your clan sheltering?" he asked.

The abrupt transition didn't go unnoticed, and Ingressus answered cautiously. "The Barrier Mountains… It's the only place harsh enough to deter the raiders from us."

A chill went up Simon's back. His hunch was right. He did know about the conflict Ingressus had described– he just hadn't known the players.

"I take it that answer means something to you."

It had taken so little for the mood to shift so much. Just a few words, a short exchange, and now Simon was recalculating everything he'd heard. Ingressus was eyeing him warily, as though waiting for a fight to break out, and even Galleous had gone still in the background, watching the other two nervously. Simon met Ingressus's eyes, the newfound tension thick enough to be tangible.

"I do know of a fight the Ardoni are engaged in," Simon said, breaking the silence. "One against an enemy who operates from the Barrier Mountains. One that has been occurring for centuries, that began as a joint effort between them and Northwind to defend the travelers between their lands."

Ingressus's gaze became, if it was possible, even more guarded. "If you mean to accuse me of something, go ahead and say it."

"You told me that the districts had refused to help your clan," he said. "You made it sound as though they were heartless at worst, incapable at best. You neglected to mention that your clan has attacked the travelers unlucky enough to cross your paths in the mountains. I imagine that the harm their people have suffered would be a greater reason not to help you than economic or political complications."

"My people are desperate," Ingressus replied, his gaze not leaving Simon. "The mountains have very little in the way of resources; we seek them wherever we can. Yes, that does sometimes mean targeting travelers for the supplies they carry. There have been times when it has made the vital difference for our survival."

"Desperation isn't a blanket excuse," Simon returned. "Even the Defiant Legion sometimes leaves survivors. And if you were so desperate, why would you make the point to single out Ardoni travelers so much more than others to target?"

Ingressus took a deep breath, letting it out again as he glanced away. After what seemed to be a silent debate with himself, he met the enderknight's gaze again.

"Have you ever eaten spider meat, Simon?" he asked in a low voice. "Not on a dare, or from a child's thoughtless curiosity, but because your alternatives were zombie flesh or continued starvation? Have you ever realized, years later, that your friends' grandfather might've walked into that blizzard on purpose, so that the children in your camp could have a greater share of food? Did you grow up aware that you had better odds than most of getting a gravestone, because your father was the one person in the clan who could light them? I doubt you have."

"I… no, but— you have still chosen to kill those you come across! How do you claim to—"

"Sir, I assure you that Ingressus has had no part in that," Galleous broke in. "He has done more than anyone else to put an end to this fight, do not condemn him based on actions of others that you have only heard about."

"Thank you, Galleous," Ingressus said quietly. "But, if my clan is being accused… I do need to address it."

Galleous met Ingressus's gaze, then relented with a quiet sigh. He glanced at Simon, a clear just-hear-him-out look on his face.

"You do not know the life my people have lived," Ingressus said, and Simon looked back up at him. "You don't know how that causes a person to think. Believe me, when you are scrabbling to survive, it is very difficult not to resent– even hate– those who aren't just living in luxury but are actively seeking to deny you what little you've managed to claim. After centuries of your tormentors facing no consequences for their crimes, it's very hard not to feel that meting out your own justice is the only way your slain kin will ever receive it– especially when the evidence only ever proves you right. It's hard not to feel that striking back, and striking hard, is only giving your intended executioners what they deserve. Try and imagine that, Sir Simon, just for a moment, and see if you can still judge my people so harshly."

Simon bit back a response, though he wasn't even sure what it would have been. A knight did not act in fits of emotion– that was only a way of ending up saying or doing things that couldn't be taken back. An enderknight was to act calmly and rationally, without thoughtless impulse. So he took a moment to think over what the Ardoni had told him. As dark and twisted as it was… at the same time it did make some sense.

He took a deep breath. "I suppose I can see how that perspective could come to exist. But has it occurred to you that the actions your clan has taken might be the reason that the others still pursue you?"

"Of course." Ingressus gestured to the mouth of the cave, where Simon could hear Nightwing give a dramatic, drawn-out growl to the apparent delight of the Ataraxian children. "I've been accused of likely everything you can imagine from the Ardoni here, including and beyond related to the issue we have discussed already. I am fully aware of what the other clans think of mine. But our new Master wants peace, that is why I am taking the risk of speaking to you now. We are already seeking a way to end this war but it will not be easy. That is why we need the enderknights' support."

"And should you manage to end it, will these attacks against the other clans and districts be over as well?" Simon questioned.

"Why wouldn't they?" Ingressus returned. "As I said, it's resources we're after in the mountains. Our old province, Voltaria, is far more rich in available food supply than the barren crags we live in now. We wouldn't need to target others, especially not at the risk of reigniting the war."

Ingressus's face turned thoughtful as he spoke more. "You know, the Defiant Legion has made itself at home in Voltaria during our absence. I know that King Rendor has been trying to bring them under control for some time now. I assure you, my clan will not allow such criminals to operate from our home. We will be glad to work with the Enderking's people to drive them out of our province upon our return, and bring its members to the relevant authorities for justice if you wish it."

The laying down of the incentive was not subtle. Simon had the feeling it wasn't meant to be. He decided to honor Ingressus's lack of obfuscation and folded his arms, thinking over everything that had been said. The two Ardoni didn't break the silence, though he caught them casting a glance at each other as he considered the situation.

"What about those who still want to visit their own idea of justice on the other clans?" Simon asked finally. "What will you– or your Master– do about them?"

"Hold them accountable, of course," Ingressus replied. "I don't expect the desire for revenge to disappear immediately, but if they endanger our return through their actions, it will not be allowed to slide."

Simon nodded slowly. "Your commitment to making this cease-fire a reality is inspiring. I have to give you that."

Ingressus looked at him questioningly. "So, will you help us?"

Simon spread his hands. "As I said, I cannot speak for the Enderking. Especially not about this. I will tell him what you've told me, but that is all I can promise at this point."

Ingressus nodded, disappointed but accepting. "I see. In that case, there are two last things I wish to say."

He gestured to the cave entrance. "First– the children playing with your dragon right now? By the time Voltaris children reach that age, they will have faced death more than once in the Barrier Mountains. Please understand that, and get King Rendor to understand as well."

His voice calmed slightly, some of the firmness bleeding away from his gaze. "Second, I'm sure you have realized by now that the other clans wouldn't be pleased to find me here. I would appreciate it if you and your comrades would not allow word of me to spread beyond yourselves."

"I understand," Simon said. He held out a hand. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

Ingressus glanced down, then reached out and shook his hand. "Maybe we will speak more on this."

"Maybe we will."

It wasn't until the dragon had faded to a speck in the sky and the crowds of giddy children had dispersed that Ingressus let himself breathe out. The negotiations were over– at least for now– and now things were out of his hands. That realization brought both relief and nervousness, a combination of feelings Ingressus hadn't realized were possible to experience together.

He glanced down at the dragon-shaped patch of flattened grass in front of the forge. The enderdragon had been lying on its side when he and Galleous had left to see Simon off, basking in the delighted attention of Ataraxia's population of children and apparently as reluctant to leave its newfound worshippers as the children were to see it fly off. One mother had had to physically detach her son from where he was hugging the dragon's tail. She had apologized profusely to Simon but the enderknight had taken it in stride, ruffling the kid's hair pleasantly before climbing onto the dragon's back to leave.

Well, I know he's that kind-hearted, at least…

He took a deep breath. People spoke well of King Rendor. Simon had been sympathetic before he left. But it was still nerve-wracking to know that the Enderking's decision about the Voltaris would be made out of his sight.

He turned around and walked back into the forge, still deep in thought. He needed to send word to the rest of the clan about this, in case the Enderknights went to Northwind to try and confirm what he had told Simon. Of course, his clan wasn't the only ones they might seek out for information on the war…

"Iron for your thoughts?" Galleous asked.

"Just, considering what could come of this," Ingressus answered. "The Enderkings haven't helped us before. I can only hope now that this time will be different."

"Rendor is known for being a just king," Galleous pointed out. "And you have given him a reason to want your clan to return."

"Did you make his armor, too?" Ingressus asked.

"No," Galleous admitted. "But I did forge Sir Oliver's armor, and I believe he has become Rendor's second-in-command since then. As I recall, he was the nervous type back then, hadn't yet grown into his position."

Ingressus nodded. Well, another connection wouldn't hurt, surely. But even so…

"The more people who know, the harder it is for a secret to be kept." He looked up at Galleous. "If something happens to me, I'll need you or Kittrian to get Voltar and my research back to my clan. Get to Nestoria, and Aegus should be able to get you in contact with my people from there."

Galleous wanted to argue. That much was clear from his face. He wanted to protest, to make some encouraging comment about "that won't happen." But they both knew that neither of them could guarantee that.

"I will," Galleous said somberly. "But… have you even told Kittrian about Voltar yet?"

Ingressus glanced aside, the action speaking as much as a verbal answer.

"She'd want to know," Galleous pointed out.

Ingressus didn't look at him. "She can honestly claim ignorance if I don't tell her. Knowing me is bad enough, I don't even know what would happen if Ferrin learned she knew I was the Master and never reported me."

"She would want to know."

Ingressus nodded, letting out a sigh. "I know."

"Well, then there's only one thing for you to do," Galleous observed, folding his arms as he looked at Ingressus. "Take that staff, get over there and tell her."

Another sigh, this one mixed with amusement. "All right, you win."

(4491 words)

Simon is the enderknight on the far left in their introduction scene. That choice was made on the basis of which armor had the coolest design, after ruling out Rendor and the one who died to Pythus.

And yes, his dragon is named Nightwing, just like the Wings of Fire tribe… I was lazy but hey, neither of these two were ever planned to show up at all, so this is what you're getting.

To Forscythe: Wow, thanks for all the reviews! (I hope I didn't accidentally spoil things for you.) I'm glad you're enjoying this!