Redacted

A Brief History

Edited: 5/20/2024

This chapter is pretty much just a lore dump lol. Also got busy, so late update. Apologies.

The truth of the Preceptor's identity. The Revenant's identity that he had been so curious about since Pluto's strange behavior. In honesty, Ianos had expected the Preceptor to be someone that Pluto had known in his past, someone he had wanted Ianos to stay away from. Traveler knows that everyone from the Dark Ages have at least that one friend.

Ianos just hadn't expected it to be Zakai, his beloved, his soulmate, someone he had thought dead for centuries.

And that Pluto had known and wanted it to be kept secret.

"Ianos."

Ace's voice pulled him out of the dredge of his thoughts, the swirling of his emotions, and Ianos looked up into his Ghost's orange optic; it was only then he realized the absence of their presence in his head.

"Ianos." His Ghost said again and again, it was followed by silence.

Not that Ianos can blame them.

Hiro – was that her name now? Or has it changed again? – and Ace had been close. They had considered each other siblings, a family, and Ace too had mourned her supposed death. Ianos wouldn't be surprised if they were feeling the same as he did.

Shock. And Betrayal.

Why?

The question came up so many times and Ianos had tried to ponder upon, searching through his memories for an answer.

He couldn't find anything.

At least, one that would make sense to him.

You should ask.

A voice whispered in the back, the need for answers tugging at his mind.

But Ianos' chest burned. It ached and Ianos found himself looking forward.

It was then, he realized that the group was on the move, with Pluto taking front, the Preceptor just slightly behind him, and Marin next to Ianos' side.

When did that happen?

His mind had been a fog since the reveal and all Ianos remembers was his mind going blank, shock settling over his senses. The group must have gotten him to move, likely with Ace's help. Nonetheless, he can tell things were tense, from the way Pluto repeatedly looked over his shoulder and the Preceptor's shoulders were slumped. Ianos can tell they wanted to say something.

Ianos doesn't want to hear it.

"Ianos." He heard Ace call out again but this time, Ianos kept his focus forward, slanting his head towards the ground.

He felt numb, limbs heavy as he stumbled after the Preceptor and Pluto, pondering on what to do next.

Ianos felt like he should be angry, frustrated, and grief stricken. But right now, he just feels nothing. He can feel Ace pull worriedly through their bond.

"So." There was a soft cough next to him, "You have been around since the Dark Ages?"

This prompted Ianos to blink. And then blink again. The fog in his head momentarily lifted just enough for him to slowly turn his head to his side, his eyes connecting onto the front of Marin's visor.

"What?" He asked.

The way Marin rolled her shoulders, tapping her fingers nervously together before dropping them to her side gave away her age, her experience to Ianos, and he watched as her head tilted subtly his way.

"You have been around since the Dark Ages?" Marin repeated, and Ianos can see her head turn just a little, enough for him to follow her gaze; she was looking at the Preceptor, "At least, that is what the Preceptor told me."

Ianos found himself staring at the back of the Preceptor's head, sifting through his thoughts, "He talked about me?"

Looking back at Marin, Ianos saw her shrug.

"Not often." She admitted, "But he spoke enough about you where he said that you were revived during the Dark Ages."

Ianos stared at her, brows furrowing subtly, "Yes, I was."

This seemed to be the answer she was looking for, for Ianos then saw her lift her head, shoulders raised, and he could swear that he saw a twinkle behind her visor.

"Then may I ask you some questions?" Marin asked and it was then, Ianos understood; a curious Guardian wanting to learn, "there aren't many around who were revived from the Dark Ages and those who are aren't part of the Revenants."

Despite himself, Ianos raised a brow, "None?"

"Well, maybe a few?" Marin sounded uncertain herself, "if we do then they aren't making themselves known."

Understandable. Considering that individual Dark Age Guardians are still widely known by name, and names usually come with many enemies. And history.

"I have some questions when it comes to the Dark Ages." Marin continued, "well, more specifically, the Iron Lords."

That is when Ianos was glad for his helmet, for he made a face.

"Why?" He tried to hide his distaste, trying to mask it the best he could.

Judging from the way Marin subtly tilted her head at him, he didn't quite pull it off. Nonetheless, she continued.

"Well." She started, "I heard about them in passing, and I grew curious." Marin gestured vaguely in the air, "I heard of the Warlords, Chosen who decided to subjugate parts of the world for themselves, and the Iron Lords who rose up to stand against them." She again shrugged, "It's not everyday that you hear of a group who stood against tyranny and won."

An exaggeration, at least, to Ianos' ears, but also understandable, considering Marin's age, and from the way she spoke, it sounded like she had been with the Revenants since her resurrection. He couldn't help but wonder how she first met the rogue Chosen faction.

"I may not be the best Chosen to ask of the Iron Lords." Ianos admitted, "but I will try my best to answer."

It was amusing, almost tugging a smile from Ianos the way Marin practically beamed at him; he kind of found it hard to believe that this was the same distrusting Revenant just hours before.

Guess curiosity beats out any sense of prejudice.

"Have you met them before?" She asked, and regret plummeted into Ianos' gut, "and if you did, who did you meet?"

If there was a time where Ianos wanted to avoid a topic more than anything else, it was this one, and the temptation to run itched under his skin. But then his eyes flicked towards Pluto and the Preceptor, and the numbness returned, his heart aching.

He needs a distraction, and perhaps, a run down of a memory will help with that. Even if the memory in question wasn't a good one.

"Unfortunately." Ianos finally answered; he can feel the confused look behind Marin's visor, "As I have said before, I am not the best Chosen when it comes to the Iron Lords." He crossed his arms, "For the reason that we are more of enemies than friends."

Or acquaintances, depending on who you ask. Most Chosen back then knew the Iron Lords in passing.

"Enemies?" Ianos heard Marin whisper and it made him look at her, a brow raised.

"Enemies." She said again and this time, it sounded close to wonder.

Ianos couldn't help but feel like he had made a mistake.

"How did you make enemies with the Iron Lords?"

Again, Ianos hesitated.

It is one thing to tell one of his misgivings with the Iron Lords. But to answer the reason behind it, let alone to a Chosen who in comparison is a New Light? Should he even be telling his story?

As he pondered upon this, Ianos then felt a subtle tug in the back of his mind, and he looked towards Ace. The Ghost in question was looking at him, a knowing look in their orange optic, and Ianos watched as Ace subtly nodded their shell at Marin. He already knew what his Ghost wanted.

Ianos then let out a heavy breath.

A story that he had held close to his chest for centuries, all because the Iron Lords were seen as heroes, a beacon for humanity. He may hate them, but he also didn't want to ruin the last hope of a struggle people. Not like they would believe him anyway. Ianos was just one Chosen amongst many after all.

Nonetheless, it wasn't worth the risk, especially not when the Iron Lords were many and within earshot. But, with them gone and having been centuries since, perhaps it is best to finally let it off his chest.

"For the reason that they killed my mentor when she was innocent of the crime that she was framed of." He answered.

And Ianos's heart burned, the memory forever seared into his memory. It may have been centuries, but he will never forgive the Iron Lords. At least, not without a proper apology, even if others were to say it is petty of him.

A clearing of the throat pulled Ianos out of his thoughts and his eyes settled upon Marin; he sensed the expectant look behind her helmet.

Right, he needs to elaborate.

"As you know, Warlords back then liked to claim territory." Ianos explained, "My mentor was one of them."

"So, she demanded tribute from non-light users?" Marin asked.

Ianos shook his head, "No. The territory she claimed was a mountain that was isolated from other paths, paths that most would not take. Settlers later set up at the foot of the mountain."

There was a brief pause.

"And still no tributes?"

Annoyance itched at the back of Ianos' mind. He reminds himself that Marin is still inexperienced.

"No." He said, "My mentor rather kept to herself. She avoids others the best she could."

Despite her helmet, Ianos can sense a frown from Marin.

"Then, how did you become her pupil?"

Ianos hummed quietly to himself, digging through his memories, "It was not uncommon for Warlords to pick off New Lights back then. Less competition if you nip them before they bloom."

And he had been understandably terrified, running blindly up the mountain, trudging through the snow with what little knowledge of the light he had to keep himself moving. All in vain in the end.

"The Warlord was stubborn, chased me all the way to the mountain top before he finally caught me." Ianos continued, "would have killed me too, if my mentor had not intervened."

With a mix of flames and lightning. In honesty, Ianos had thought he was seeing the last glimpses of his life, with the Warlord utilizing it to end him, only to feel the weight upon his chest disappear and the Warlord's Ghost taking his place. It was then Ianos faded away into black.

"She tended to me after and when I told her that I had nowhere to go, she took me in." The memory of her taking his hands, chastising him for utilizing his solar light too strongly as she pressed balm against his burned palms, "taught me most of what I know today."

At least, with Solar light. And how to survive out in the wilds.

"And she didn't harass the villagers at the bottom of the mountain?" Marin asked.

Again, Ianos shook his head, "I stayed with her for a few years. Not once had to ventured down to take 'tributes'."

Although they did spot a few curious villagers now and then again. They would usually run once they realized that Ianos and his mentor had noticed them.

"Then, why did the Iron Lords kill her?"

Ianos flinched.

He had expected the question. It still struck him like taking a hit from the butt end of a rifle. From the corner of his eyes, he can also see Ace wince, shrinking back.

"My mentor may not have demanded tribute, but she still looms over the homes of the villagers." Ianos went on to explain, "and you know how stories go with Warlords." He waved a hand vaguely in the air, "They use their power to threaten the people for 'tributes' and not complying usually means death for many."

"But you said your mentor doesn't demand tributes." Marin surmised "and you said that she likes to be left alone."

"Does not mean the people weren't scared." Ianos said, "they grew paranoid, fed by stories of travelers who tell of Warlords waiting until harvests were at their best, resources at its highest, before trying to make their claims. So, they thought it best to end the offerings before it begins. By reaching out to the Iron Pups."

This earned him a look from Marin, although this one more curious than surprised. A rare occurrence, since the Iron Lords are usually looked up to.

"But she was just on the mountain, not hurting anyone." Marin eventually said, "What will the Iron Lords do…" Then, her voice faded away and Ianos could practically feel the realization, the epiphany that settled over her shoulders.

"The villagers lied?"

"Only way to bring the Iron Lords to their village." Ianos confirmed, "made up stories of how she demanded their crops, otherwise she will wrought her wrath upon them." He scoffed, "and the Iron Pups believed them."

And he remembers that day clearly.

Skorri.

Jolder.

Felwinter.

Saladin.

Ianos remembers them calling out for his mentor, demanding that she release the village and for her to leave the mountain.

She of course, said that she did not hold the village hostage.

But she also refused to leave her mountain.

And Ianos guessed that was enough for the Iron Lords.

"And they killed her?"

Ianos flinched, "Yes. They killed her."

"Did you run?"

He scoffed at Marin's question, "No. I did not. I wanted to help. But…" Ianos took in a sharp inhale, "She told me to hide, said that a youngling like me was not ready to fight the Iron Lords."

But neither was she, considering that she was alone facing off with four of them. However, the battle wasn't quick, as his mentor's Ghost wasn't one to stay idle with their Chosen's death. It had been funny, comical even, when the Ghost would weave around bullet fire as she resurrected his Mentor.

But skill only lasted so long when facing a team.

Jolder was the one who cornered her.

Skorri crippled her limbs to ensure she could not utilize her light.

Saladin was the one who shot her down.

And Felwinter was the one who dealt the finishing blow.

He had screamed when her Ghost shattered in the Iron Lord's grip, exploding in a flash of light as her shell splintered from his grasp.

"They didn't find you?"

Her barrage of questions betrayed Marin's age, but Ianos couldn't help but smile wryly at it; he could not help but ached for the times when he had been a teacher, a mentor himself. Ianos was stripped of the title not long after the Great Disaster. The darkness corrupting him was considered too much of a risk.

"No, I gave myself away." Ianos admitted; he sensed the surprised look behind Marin's helmet.

He didn't elaborate. Ianos didn't want to. Him crashing through the door of their shared hut, scrambling through the snow to his mentor's body, cradling her in his arms as he sobbed and grieved; he didn't want to say it.

"They did not attack me." Ianos said instead, "since they were told only my mentor had been occupying the mountain. I was a surprise."

Which confused him, really. He is certain the villagers had seen him too when they would get curious and brave enough to climb to the top. Perhaps because they knew that he was a New Light under a War Lord's tutelage? Or perhaps they thought that the Iron Lords would take him in? To guide him down the 'right' path? Mayhap both?

Nonetheless, the four Iron Lords had simply stood by as Ianos mourned over his mentor's body, wailing, and eventually cursing. Cursing the four Chosen before him for taking someone he had considered his family.

"The Iron Lords questioned me and then, they learned the truth." Ianos then scoffed again, "at least, my truth."

Ianos knew they wouldn't say it aloud, but he had sensed the doubts then, the suspicion. He wasn't sure if they eventually believed him or not.

But he never did receive an apology. At least, not from Jolder, Felwinter, or Saladin. Skorri was the only one who sounded sincere. Maybe that's why he didn't hate her as much as the others.

"I told them that I would leave the mountain once I buried my mentor." Ianos finally decided to finish, "and it was only then they left me alone."

Of course, they wouldn't leave him alone until after he had finished burying her. Ianos had enough time to give a short prayer before stumbling down the mountain. He hadn't been back since. He wonders if her grave is still there.

"I am sorry for your loss." Marin's apology pulled Ianos' out of his thoughts, his memories, and he looked back at the young Titan; he could sense the sincerity behind her helmet, "to think that there would be another side to the Iron Lords. That they were all just like us."

Ianos raised a brow, "Like us?"

"They make mistakes." Marin clarified; Ianos' throat went tight, "stories made them sound flawless, like heroes." There is a soft hum from her, "I thank you for your perspective. And again, I am sorry for what the Iron Lords have done to you."

"No need for you to apologize." Ianos managed to strain out; he can sense Ace pull comfortingly through their bond, "it is not your fault."

And not like an apology would do any good, especially after all these centuries.

"I do have one more question." Marin said, "The name of your mentor, what is it? You had not once called her by name throughout your entire story."

Her question made Ianos pause, and he couldn't help but turn his eyes away, focusing them instead on Pluto's and the Preceptor back. Although they had been quiet before, it seems they were more so. Pluto, he can tell has been listening; his red lights were beating steadily between his plating, meaning he was focused. The Preceptor, less subtly so, his head slightly tilted his head.

Doesn't matter.

Ianos had held the story close to his chest for centuries. It is nice to have others know it.

"I never once referred to her name, because she was like me." Ianos eventually answered before turning his eyes back to Marin, "for she was resurrected without one."

And that is what made Ianos believe why she had taken him in the first place; he had woken up in her bed, a fire going on in the fireplace, and she had come in with a cup of something warm, a soup of some kind. She had initially told him that once he had recovered, he was free to leave, but once she had asked him for a name, Ianos had answered that he had none. Since then, he had stayed with her.

Until her death.

"Huh?" Ianos can feel her give him a puzzled look, "but you said that you have lived with her for years. Did you not give each other names?"

Despite himself, Ianos gave her a blank look, "We tried. But then the Iron Lords came."

They had brought the idea up a week before, where they thought that giving each other a name would be a fun idea. The day after the Iron Lords came was supposed to be the day where they would reveal the names they had chosen for each other.

"Oh."

Understanding was obvious in Marin's voice and Ianos was glad when she remained silent. At least, to him. He can hear her mumbling under her breath; he wouldn't be surprised if she is talking to her Ghost. Likely taking notes.

"Ianos."

Ace's voice prompted Ianos to look back at his Ghost, and he paused at the way his Ghost's orange optic flickered, filled with worry.

"What is it?" He whispered.

Ianos looked on as Ace's shell twisted, shifting worriedly against their shell, "I received a frequency from Crystalline. She and the others are in trouble."