So. Um. With this chapter, this fic is currently the longest SoW fic on AO3.
...
I don't know how I did this? I never expected to? I knew going into this that I couldn't predict how long it would be, but... but THIS? I guess one thing I've learned while writing this is that I kinda suck at estimating the lengths of things, but... this is almost twice the length right now of my previous longest fic, a kinda garbage one from like eight years ago. And I don't? know? How??
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Ingressus had wandered the wilds of Voltaria for several days now, walking through the forests and meadows wherever his feet would take him with no true direction or destination in mind. He'd never been in a hurry, had never felt the need to be anywhere until he had found the remains of the campfire under the rocks. It surprised him how much shorter the distance seemed to be when he was actually trying to reach a certain place.
He reached the boulders with time to spare. The three Voltaris hadn't arrived yet and Ingressus leaned against the stone, his hood up but his mask pulled down. The sun hung in the sky to the southeast, still shy of its zenith, and Ingressus watched the clouds drift across the blue above as he waited, his thoughts drifting in his mind.
He had considered and re-considered his decision to remain separate from his clan many times over the years. He had run through every argument for and against it, every logical reason and reasons driven by emotions. He knew what he had decided, he knew why he had decided it. But making contact with his people had raised the question in his mind yet again. What would they think if he were to tell them he wouldn't return with them?
He would lose contact with Aegus if he returned to the mountains. Messenger birds flying to and from a Voltaris camp would be too obvious a trail for raiders to follow, and ran the risk of Aegus's involvement with him being discovered. There were plenty of reasons that Aegus might send messages to Ataraxia, but far fewer reasons he would be contacting someone in the Barrier Mountains. And even if the other Masters hadn't taken him seriously about the Prime corruption, he was still Ingressus's most influential ally. Achillean, Galleous, Kittrian, the others in Ataraxia– he was grateful for them, but none of them would have influence with the three Masters who remained his enemies. Not to mention that he would no longer have access to the clans' research in the Barrier Mountains– even if his current access only came through Galleous and Aegus.
Galleous's words that morning echoed in his head. "It's your call if you want to go back with them. Don't think you need to stick around on my account. If you don't come back I'll say your goodbyes to everyone."
Ingressus appreciated the sentiment. It wasn't the first time Galleous had assured him he was under no obligation to stay in Ataraxia, that he was free to return to his clan if he chose. But despite his questioning, he knew the choice he had made. He knew the risk of futility, but he also knew, better than ever now, the possible reward. As he had last night, he would tell his people the truth and trust that they would understand. If they wanted to debate he would listen to them, and would take into consideration the points they made. But as the situation stood, he intended to continue pursuing the resonances, even if the idea of separating again– this time by his own choice– tore at him.
He saw a figure move in the forest ahead and his eyes darted to it, but he relaxed again as he saw the red glow beneath the cloak. Shidar raised his hand in greeting and Ingressus returned the gesture, straightening as Avior and Errai appeared behind Shidar.
"I admit," Shidar said as they approached. "A part of me thought that last night was a dream."
"Then I suppose it's good you had witnesses," Ingressus observed.
Shidar smiled. "Very true."
"I believe we have found the pathway from Voltar's memories," Errai spoke up. "It is to the northwest of here, a couple hours' walk away."
Ingressus nodded. "Let's go, then."
"What is it that's so important about this place?" Avior asked as they walked.
"I don't know," Ingressus said. "Voltar hasn't shown me that. It's just been very insistent that I find the cave."
"An old weapons stash, maybe?" Errai wondered.
"You wouldn't be the first Master to come to Voltaria since our exile," Shidar mused. "If Voltar hasn't brought anyone else here, maybe it has to do with this plan of yours."
The four made light conversation as they walked through the forests. Ingressus heard tales of his clan, including one rumor about a camp that had supposedly found a way to tame frostbiters and another that had moved into an ancient buried stronghold they'd discovered. Ingressus was reminded of when wanderers would come across his camp. He remembered sitting in a half-circle with the other kids and several adults in front of the traveler, listening to the stories they would share and being reminded that their clan wasn't as small as their isolation made it seem. Those days were so long ago but the feeling now was the same, the assurance that you were not all that was left, that there were others out there who were still surviving against all the odds.
"I believe this could be the tree from the memories," Errai said as they emerged into a meadow. "There were some landmarks along the way that we couldn't find, but after so long that may just be down to time."
A dead tree stood before them in the field, its bark shed and its wood pitted and decaying. The trunk still stood, reaching high into the air before bending sharply and stretching a decayed limb out as though pointing the way to something. Opposite the reaching limb was a dark gash in the crumbling wood, as though another branch had fallen away. Ingressus circled the tree, studying its withered shape. He stood to the west of the trunk, from the direction the memories approached it, and summoned Voltar to his hand. The vision replayed itself in his head, the living tree in his mind's eye almost superimposed on the dead one before him. A feeling of rightness emanated from the staff, a confirmation as clear as one spoken aloud.
Ingressus slung the staff over his back. "This is it."
Following the path from the memories was easier than tracking down the other three the previous day. Though time had covered the exposed granite in green grass and smoothed over the edges of the dry riverbed, time also hadn't actively tried to disguise any trace of the path once existing. Ingressus kept a hand on Voltar as they walked, scanning the forest for anything to compare to the memory. As they walked along a hillside the vision abruptly cut off and he stopped, looking across the ground.
"What is it?" Errai asked him.
Ingressus rested a hand against the steep hillside. "It should be right here."
Shidar cocked his head, looking at the leaf-strewn patch of earth. "A cave-in, maybe?"
"Must be," Ingressus said.
Avior studied the place where the cave had been. "There's no large plants on the slope there. So either the cave-in is recent, or there's just a thin layer of soil covering the entrance."
Errai lifted her spear. She studied the dirt briefly, then stabbed the butt of her spear into the dirt. She wiggled the shaft, widening the hole, then brought the spear back and jabbed it down again. On the third strike the spear plunged deep into the earth, and Errai looked up with a grin.
"There's something back there."
Ingressus wasted no time. He dug his fingers into the loosened soil, clawing fistfuls of dirt away. Errai jabbed her spear into the dirt again, loosening the soil as Avior joined in beside him and Shidar stood watch. The dirt barrier crumbled beneath their efforts, and soon Errai's pinhole yawned into a dark pit. Avior lit a torch and held it into the hole, the flickering light illuminating a dank cave littered with cobwebs and dangling roots. Near the back, Ingressus could just see the boxy shape of chests, half-hidden under clumps of dirt. They were exactly where Voltar remembered them.
Ingressus climbed into the hole. They had broken through near the top of the cave, and he slid down the mound of dirt to stand on the floor of the cave. Avior handed him the torch and slid down after him, brushing away cobwebs.
"This place has been untouched for six hundred years," Avior said, his voice low in reverence. "No one's been here since before our exile."
Ingressus touched the edge of a half-collapsed desk. "Not even looters, it seems."
He made to place the torch in a rusted-out sconce, then reconsidered and wedged it into a crack in the wall itself. "Let's get searching."
The cave wasn't large, and with the collapse that had buried the entrance it was even smaller. It was just big enough for a simple living or workspace– probably the latter, given the lack of any sign of furnishings. There were only so many places to look for whatever Voltar had wanted him to find.
"There's food in here," Avior reported from where he'd managed to pry a chest open. "Apples, bread– oh, cookies. And I don't know what this is."
Ingressus glanced over at the orange thing Avior held. "Pumpkin pie."
"Ohhhh..." Avior sniffed at it curiously, then glanced at Ingressus. "Permission to take this stuff back to our camp?"
Ingressus dug another load of dirt off a partially-buried chest. "Granted."
Many outside his clan would've been leery of eating centuries-old food. Though the stasis in which a chest held its contents meant the food would be just as fresh as it was when it had been put into storage, those who had the luxury of doing so tended to look down on older food. Ingressus's lack of concern about such things was just one of several reasons the Ataraxians had found him strange.
After dragging a rock off the top of the chest, Ingressus finally managed to heave it open. A multicolored glow shone from inside, causing Avior to look over and his ears to prick up as the many-tuned chorus filled their ears and minds. Ingressus pulled a Supporium Song from the chest, watching the energy bubble and simmer inside the green shell like boiling water.
"Was this a Songmaster's house?" Avior wondered aloud.
"This is a lot of Songs for one person, even before the Silencing," Ingressus mused. He set the Song aside and reached into the chest again. "Two Aggressium, Two Protiseum, one Mobilium..." he frowned. "And a lot of– wait."
He paused, holding up a greenish Song. At first glance it appeared to be Supporium, but the shell was distinctly more teal than emerald, and the bubbles of energy inside it were hazy and moving in strange pulsing patterns inside it. The shell of the Song was– well, still solid, still physical, but his fingers sank slightly through the edges as he held it.
"Master Ingressus?"
"A half-formed Protiseum Song," Ingressus said. "One harvested too early."
He set it aside and pulled out a slime-green Song with a tune vaguely reminiscent of Mobilium, then one that was faintly yellow with a more jagged tune. He spotted a fourth that was the typical rich green of Supporium, but with weak and hazy energy bubbles inside. "A full set of them, it seems."
Avior cocked his head, staring at the Songs. "But why would someone have harvested them early? If they aren't fully formed, then you can't use them; their tunes aren't distinct enough."
"Good question."
Ingressus laid the last proto-Song aside, turning his attention to what was left in the chest. There were a handful of books stacked against one side, and Ingressus pulled them out, handing a few to Avior to look through while he scanned the others. Most were actual books, with printed text and professionally bound in leather covers. The torchlight revealed the titles: A Study of Magical Sites, Theories on the Void and Its Power in the Overworld, Ardoni and their Songs: An Outsider's Study. But there were also a few handwritten journals in the pile, with entries and observations written in a few different beings' handwriting.
"Our people studied the Songs here," Avior realized, a journal open in front of him. "This is their research. It must've been forgotten here when the other clans drove us out, and no one's found it since."
Ingressus lifted a proto-Song. "That's why they harvested these early. They wanted to see what they could learn from them."
So this was why Voltar had brought him here. It had remembered this place from before their exile, and once Ingressus had come within reach it had urged him to go and find what his clan had learned.
Ingressus set the Song down again, flipping through the journal again as the excitement rose in him. "This could be exactly what I need..."
"You think we used to know what happened to the resonances?" Avior asked.
"If anyone did, it would be us," Ingressus said. "And if we didn't, we might have known enough to figure it out if we'd had the chance."
Avior's response was cut off by a sharp three-tone whistle from outside. He stiffened, his gaze arrowing to the hole they'd climbed through. "Someone's coming."
Ingressus immediately shoved the books into his inventory, tossing some of the Songs to Avior and stowing the rest away himself. They clambered out from the cave, emerging onto the bright hillside. Ingressus squinted as his eyes adjusted, seeing Shidar with his hand on his sword and Errai holding her spear with a defensive stance. They were on guard but they didn't look alarmed enough for it to be Ardoni...
"Who is it?" he asked, his sword hovering at the edge of his inventory.
Errai's gaze was fixed on the woods ahead, where Ingressus could see a set of figures moving through the bushes. "Defiant Legion."
There were six mercenaries that had come across them. Two Felina, the rest Human. The lead mercenary, a large Human with a knife scar across his cheek, stepped forward, eyeing the Ardoni.
"Well, what do we have here?" he said, swinging a battle-axe casually in his hand. "I didn't know we had given out mining rights here. So then why would a bunch of people be out here digging into our hillside?"
"Our business is our own," Errai said tersely. "We want no trouble with the Legion."
"Well, no one ever does, do they, woman?" the mercenary said, tapping his axe blade against the ground. "Nobody out there wants to mess with us. And yet, people keep crossing us anyway. You'd think you people would learn."
His thugs laughed. Ingressus sized them up from under his hood. Two in addition to the leader were armed with swords, one had a mace, one had a bladed staff, and the last held a crossbow. Ingressus noted that they remained formed up behind their leader rather than spreading out to cut off escape, showing they were either foolish or that they counted on their numbers and weapons to intimidate their targets into surrendering. The hill behind the Voltaris wasn't unclimbable, but it was steep, and fleeing in that direction wouldn't be easy. The mercenaries did have them backed against the hill, but they weren't quite trapped.
"Have you met them before?" Ingressus asked Shidar, his voice low.
"No," Shidar responded, lips barely moving as he answered. "We avoid the Legion where we can."
"Our odds?"
He saw Shidar glance at him, but then nod slightly. "We could do it."
"So the question is," the lead thug was saying conversationally, spinning his axe again. "What are we going to do with you? If we just let you walk away after invading our lands then everyone will think they can do it."
"We have no argument with you," Ingressus said. Not one we need to have now, anyway. "Let us go on our way, and no one will need to be harmed."
The mercenaries laughed. The one with the crossbow spoke, staring at Ingressus as though he were an amusing idiot. "Did you miss that you're outnumbered? How do you think that you could harm us?"
"Outnumbered doesn't mean outmatched," Avior retorted. "We've all faced worse foes than you!"
"Outnumbered we may be," Errai said, her voice forcibly calm. "But we will fight back if you force us to. Even if we lost, I promise you we are capable of taking several of you down with us. Is that a chance you're willing to take?"
The words had an impact. Ingressus saw two of the mercenaries glance at each other, saw a third shift awkwardly on his feet. But the leader merely smirked.
"Is it a chance you're willing to take?" he retorted. "Counteroffer: turn over what you dug up back there, and whatever else you might've stolen from our territory, and you get to leave with your lives. No one will need to be harmed– well, not that badly."
Errai glanced at Ingressus. Ingressus pushed down his annoyance of the mercenary using his own words against him, speaking a lie he knew they probably wouldn't believe. Selarin wouldn't have simply taken someone's word for it.
"There was nothing to find," he said. "We came across a strange hole in the hill and we were curious, but there was nothing but some old and broken furniture."
Ingressus doubted he'd sold the disappointed act. And as the lead mercenary turned back to his companions, his doubts were confirmed.
"Leave one alive," the mercenary said. "Someone's got to tell the tale."
The mercenaries spread out to trap them and Ingressus closed his hand around his sword, fire glowing around the blade as the weapon sprang into existence. Errai readied her spear and Shidar drew his sword but first blood went to Avior as his knife spun through the air, burying itself in the chest of the mercenary with the crossbow before he had even taken two steps. The mercenary staggered, fell to his knees and then collapsed, blood trickling from his mouth.
Ingressus stepped forward, his blazing sword held out in warning as the mercenaries looked between him, Avior, and their fallen comrade in shock.
"Leave," he ordered. "Now."
But the lead mercenary only bared his teeth in a snarl. "You'll pay for that, Nether-spawn!"
One mercenary turned and fled as the rest ran forward. Ingressus only had time to think four on four before his sword crossed with a mercenary's and the battle was on. The Felina flinched at the heat from the flames but hardly seemed cowed, slashing his claws at Ingressus's arm. Ingressus dodged and thrust his sword forwards, landing a cut across the Felina's ribs that made his attacker shriek in pain.
Ingressus had been in plenty of fights. Training spars in the mountains and in Ataraxia, his duel with Selarin, his battles against the undead. But a true battle, life-or-death against a sentient opponent who could meet and react to his moves, with true intent to harm and even kill– the raid was the only comparable experience.
But Ingressus was no frightened child this time. His attacker was no highly-trained, Song-wielding Ardoni soldier. This time he faced a mercenary, not unskilled but hardly elite, and Ingressus was ten years older and stronger. He wouldn't fall to the likes of a criminal like this one.
A flare of Mobilium energy echoed across the clearing as Errai body-slammed the leader, the force of Mobiliburst hurling him back into a tree. The Felina's gaze darted to his friend, distracted for just a second, and Ingressus's sword buried itself in his shoulder. The Felina screamed in agony, his claws loosening from their grip in Ingressus's arm. With a swift kick Ingressus snapped the Felina's kneecap, sending him crumpling to the ground. He snatched the mercenary's sword away and turned to check on his clanmates. Errai's spear had just pierced the leader through and Shidar was trading blows with the Legionnaire with the mace. But Avior was backing away before the mercenary with the spear, dagger gripped in his hand as he sought for an opening among the mercenary's stabs.
Ingressus charged forward. The mercenary saw him coming and swung his staff at him, eyes wide. Ingressus blocked the strike, and Avior's dagger cut into the Legionnaire's throat. Blood sprayed and the mercenary crumpled, his blood leaking into the soil.
"You all right?" Ingressus asked.
Avior nodded, catching his breath. Ingressus turned to see Shidar standing over the final mercenary's still form, kicking the mace away with a bitter expression. And Errai was striding over to the mercenary Ingressus had fought, raising her blood-streaked spear.
"Wait," Ingressus called.
Errai stopped, glancing back at him curiously. Ingressus walked over, the flames on his sword vanishing as the enchantment deactivated. The Felina stared up at him, ears flattened back and his face creased with pain. His shirt was charred around the hole in his shoulder, the wound seared and bloodless. His breathing was heavy and strained, and his good arm pushed against the ground as though trying to crawl away.
Ingressus rested his sword on the mercenary's chest. The Felina lifted a hand to push the blade away but flinched, hand tensing against an imagined flame. He met Ingressus's gaze, fear and pain warring in his half-closed eyes.
"Tell the Legion to get out of this province," Ingressus said.
The Felina's eyes widened. Ingressus pulled his sword away, turning back to the others. Errai looked surprised but gave him a nod of approval, slinging her spear over her back and picking up the mercenary's sword.
"Do you think that will work?" she asked him.
"Unlikely," Ingressus admitted. "But they'll know to fear us when we return."
Errai smirked. "A reputation."
Ingressus nodded, looking over at where Shidar and Avior were looting the dead. Avior had claimed the staff that had been used against him, and pulled a knife from the mercenary's boot. Shidar had taken the crossbow and its arrows and was digging around in its weilder's pockets, but Ingressus noticed he was favoring his wounded arm.
"The one that fled may return with reinforcements," Errai said. "Did you find what you needed in the cave?"
Ingressus nodded. "I did. Take what you can from the dead, we can parcel it out later."
Errai nodded and moved for the leader. Ingressus crouched next to Shidar's victim, noting that the mercenary still breathed. A cut on his head was oozing blood, surrounded by an already-forming bruise. Ingressus claimed his mace and dug out some rations from a bag the mercenary carried, as well as a pouch of money. Ingressus slipped that away as well– even with how far past the edges of society as his clan lived, money could still have its uses.
"Let's go."
They left the hillside behind, hurrying to leave the area before more mercenaries showed up. None of them were seriously hurt, Ingressus noted with relief, and they were able to make a decent pace, soon coming across a shallow cave near a riverside. Shidar moved to inspect a cut on Avior's leg, and as Errai lifted her arm Ingressus saw an oozing wound across her forearm.
Ingressus summoned a set of bandages from his inventory. "Let me have a look."
"You're hurt as well," Errai said as Ingressus washed out the wound.
Ingressus glanced down, noticing the dark spots on his sleeve, fresher than where the mercenary's blood had splattered over him. "It's just claw marks."
"What did you find in the cave?" Shidar asked.
"Our clan's Song research," Ingressus said. "From before our exile. From before the Silencing."
Shidar's eyes widened, his initial mildly-interested look washing away as he realized the significance. "Research on living resonances?"
Ingressus nodded, wrapping a bandage around Errai's wound. "The other clans have nothing like this. They didn't start studying the resonances until after they died and the magic had faded. They barely have any idea of how the magic worked before then."
"So all your answers could be there?" Errai asked.
"They might be," Ingressus said, tying off the bandage. "If nothing else, it's bound to get me a lot closer."
Ingressus felt like a child inside, one who'd been promised a surprise by their parent and was now bouncing around their home in anticipation. His hands itched to bring out the books, to open their covers and read through their contents, to drink in every messily-scrawled or neatly printed word in search of their secrets.
The rest of the world got excited about money or diamonds. The rest of his clan got excited about bringing down some large game for their camp or a particularly successful supply run. And these days, Ingressus got excited about centuries-old books. Everyone had their priorities.
"Master Ingressus, your injuries?" Errai said, holding up the bandages.
Ingressus glanced down, loosening the straps of the wrist-guard and pulling it off to free the sleeve and push it up his arm. A set of claw-punctures marred the gray skin, lightly oozing blood. Minor wounds, more inconvenience than anything particularly worrying. Still, Errai rinsed the cuts with water, washing the blood away and wrapping a layer of bandage around his arm.
"If Voltar thought it was important, then it has to be useful," Shidar said. "We lost a lot of our knowledge when– ow!"
"Sorry," Avior winced. "I think he got you worse than you thought."
Shidar flexed his arm, looking unhappily at the cut and the rising bruise. "I can put up with it until we get back to camp. Astor can patch me up there."
Avior went back to tending to the wound. "At least it's your right arm."
"There were several Songs left behind in the cave as well," Ingressus said, bringing out a Protiseum Song. "This may be Proteheal. Take these back to your camp, and use them as you see fit."
Avior glanced over. "You know how to tell the difference between Song types?"
Ingressus handed the Song to Shidar. "I've been learning."
Shidar furrowed his brow slightly, obviously having caught what Ingressus hadn't outright said. But it was Errai who spoke, her voice uncertain.
"Will you... not be returning with us?"
Ingressus shook his head. Sound confident. Sound decisive, like Dad. You need them to believe in you.
"I need to keep contact with my allies," he said. "Even if the books in the cave have all the answers I need, that won't solve everything immediately. I will still need the help of those in the other clans to end the war, and I can't risk leading enemies to our people until we are safe from them."
He saw Avior's face fall, saw Shidar glance at Errai as she took in his words.
Please understand, he thought. I want to go back with you. I want to be among our clan again. I wouldn't be leaving if I didn't think our people would be better off for it.
Errai took a deep breath before speaking. "I doubted your plan at first," she said. "I admit that. I thought the resonances were a problem beyond our ability to solve. But if Voltar was so intent on sending you to find our research, then maybe there is a chance. Maybe this can really save us..."
Voltar's support was encouraging to Ingressus as well. The staff had shown him memories before, scraps of conversation about the resonances, memories of past Masters hearing about the research his clan had once done. But to actively send him to the cave, to guide him to their old research– it felt like true approval of his plan, faith that it would really work and that it wasn't just wishful thinking for lack of a better option.
"I understand your doubt," he said. "I know I've asked you to accept a lot in a short time, and that I've had little chance to prove myself to you. But I will ensure that the trust you've given me is not in vain."
He pulled out one of the journals, resting a hand on its cover. "If the answers are in here, then it won't be long until I can return."
Errai nodded. "Is there somewhere we could find you if needed?"
"Ataraxia," Ingressus said. "It's a town in the Heart Mountains– the only one, actually. It's situated on a cluster of flying islands, you'd know it when you saw it. The Ardoni there are used to me, though I can't promise how they'd react to unfamiliar Voltaris."
"I guess you'll be needing these back, then," Avior said.
He summoned the books he'd grabbed from his inventory, glancing at them before holding them out. Ingressus took them, handing Avior the Songs in return.
"Won't you be needing Songs for your research?" Shidar asked.
"I have access to a set," Ingressus said. "You'll need these in the mountains more."
Avior nodded, stowing the Songs away.
"We will tell our camp what you're doing for us," Shidar said. "They'll be pleased to know our Master is still out there."
"I hope to be back to our people soon," Ingressus replied. "But even if I can't be, know that I will never give up on getting our clan home."
"We've survived this long," Errai said. "We can last until the answers are found."
Please be right, Ingressus thought. Whatever gods are listening, please help them to survive that long.
"Will you let us accompany you back to the edge of the province?" Shidar asked. "The Legion will come looking for their friends' killers soon; it wouldn't do to be caught alone."
Ingressus nodded. "Of course."
And so the group walked back south. The conversation was sparser and quieter now, with everyone directing half their attention into watching for vengeful Legionnaires. But Ingressus told them about his search into the resonances so far, as well as his partnership with Aegus.
"But why would the Nestoris Master care about what happens to us?" Avior asked him. "Even if more of his clanmates would survive without the war, why wouldn't he think he has to defend against us?"
"He owes his life to one of us," Ingressus said. "The other clans think we're monsters, without heart or mercy. But Master Aegus is alive now because a Voltaris chose to spare him, without any gain for himself. He has, apparently, been questioning the raids ever since."
"And that was all it took?" Errai mused. "That just feels... so easy."
"We have always had to assume the worst of the other clans," Ingressus said. "And when it comes to the raiders, we haven't been wrong. But there are Ardoni among the other clans who are not warriors– they've had that luxury. I have seen that not all of them are as bloodthirsty as the raiders we encounter. There are still some Ardoni who are suspicious of me, but many others have come to accept or at least tolerate me. We have only ever seen them– and they us– on the battlefield. But there is more to their people and ours than the war we wage. Aegus is aware of that now, and I believe that, given the chance, the rest of our kind can be as well."
"I hope that you are right."
So do I, Ingressus thought. Out loud, he said, "I have seen it. Peace will never be fast or easy, I know that. But getting our people home will be a place to start from."
They came to the edge of the woods. Across the plains ahead was Stoneford, still busy and active in the late-afternoon sun. Ingressus turned back to the other three.
It isn't too late, part of him noted. You can go back to the mountains with them. You can tell them you've reconsidered. You could find a way to still contact Aegus if you really needed to. And you'd be with your people again. You'd be in a place you belong.
"I'm glad our paths could cross," he said. "I hope fate will bring us together again in the future."
"We'll be in touch where we can," Shidar said, shaking his hand.
Errai shook his hand as well. "What are your orders regarding the other clans?"
"I won't tell you not to defend yourselves, or not to seek the supplies you need," Ingressus said. It was naive to assume his people would be left alone, even if they did. "But avoid bloodshed where you can. It will give us more credibility for peace with the other clans."
"We will spread the word."
Ingressus nodded. He shook hands with Avior, took a last look at his clanmates, then pulled up his hood and mask and headed for town.
Galleous knew Ingressus pretty well by now. After twelve years, that was kind of obligatory. He had seen him in times of struggle and triumph, had watched as he grew and matured over the years. He could tell when Ingressus was simply annoyed by something and when he might actually seek retribution for whatever had been done. He knew what Ingressus would do to dull the pain when the grief for those in his camp would strike him again, knew his favorite thinking spots and how he would deal with the various people around town who still disliked him. He knew Ingressus well, probably better than anyone else.
But he didn't know what Ingressus would do now. Returning to Ataraxia, returning to the Barrier Mountains... the odds seemed like an even split.
One fact that stuck with him was that Ingressus hadn't left him that morning with the kind of goodbye you'd give to someone you wouldn't be seeing again. But Galleous also knew how much Ingressus missed his clan, and Ingressus hadn't said that he planned to stay. So Galleous didn't know what to expect.
Was it selfish for him to hope that Ingressus wouldn't leave? As a Master (something Galleous could still hardly believe at times, despite seeing Voltar with his own eyes) Ingressus should, by all standards of Master-hood that Galleous knew, be with his clan. But the Voltaris's situation was hardly a normal one, and Ingressus had voiced the concern before of whether he could be of enough use to his people in the Barrier Mountains. Galleous didn't know the answer to that question.
Galleous would never have stopped Ingressus from returning to the Barrier Mountains if he chose. He had no right to keep an Ardoni away from their home or clan; if Ingressus decided he belonged in Northwind, that was his prerogative and no one else's. But the idea of the boy returning to the cold and harsh northern mountains, once again scrabbling for the meager scraps of existence his clan could eke out, returning to the land the raiders targeted– Galleous knew Ingressus was capable, but the dangers the Voltaris faced were greater than any Galleous had a frame of reference for. Not to mention that Galleous would plain-old miss him.
Ingressus probably wouldn't be back at the inn yet, even if he wasn't going to leave. He had spent all the time that he could exploring Voltaria in the past few days, only retreating back to Stoneford with the onset of night and its dangers. There were still several hours to go before sundown, it wouldn't mean anything if the room at the inn was empty.
But to Galleous's pleasant surprise, it wasn't. Ingressus was sitting cross-legged on his bed when Galleous came in, a pair of books open before him and several more in a stack next to him. He was so focused on what he was reading that it took him an extra second to react to Galleous's arrival. Ingressus's hand darted to his sword in an instinctive, startled gesture, but he relaxed again when he recognized Galleous.
"Good book?" Galleous asked.
Galleous had expected the answer to be yes. What he hadn't expected was for Ingressus's eyes to light up like a furnace flaring to life, or his ears to prick up in excitement.
"Yeah," he said. "Did you know the Song orders are more of a spectrum than just four unconnected points?"
"No..." Galleous said slowly.
"Here, look." Ingressus flipped back through one of the books, searching for something. There was a strip of bandage stuck over his forearm but Galleous didn't have time to question that as Ingressus spun the book around to show him. "All Songs are only part of one order, but some can be closer to a second one than others."
Ingressus tapped the page as Galleous sat down to look. The page showed a diagram of the Song orders, a square with its corners labeled with the different orders. Dots along the edges of the square and the diagonal lines through the middle were labeled with the different types of Songs, mostly clustered around the corners but with some further out than others.
"It has to do with how the Song's energy manifests," Ingressus said, pointing at a dot. "Mobiliburst contains more Aggressium energy than Mobiliflash does, which is what makes the surge of energy travel out from its user after they teleport. Aggroshard has traces of Protisium energy, which is what makes the shards solid. Proteheal has– actually a good bit of Aggressium energy to it, which must be why its power can flow out to other people instead of just being contained around the user."
Galleous frowned. "But healing is the exact opposite purpose of Aggressium."
Ingressus flipped the book back to himself. "It looks like where they are in the spectrum has more to do with the energy itself than what the Song's used for. With Protisium and Supporium, the energy is static– it concentrates itself around the wielder or the target, respectively, and doesn't move away from them. Aggressium and Mobilium both have energy that does move, but Aggressium goes out and away from the wielder, while Mobilium carries the user along with it. But there's plenty of Songs where the energy does a little bit of both. I didn't make the connection until I read this, but Meirus's Proteheal does have a tune a little bit like Aggressium– more so than your Protepoint."
Galleous nodded slowly as his mind caught up with the rush of information. He looked back at the book, scanning the placement of the different Songs. Proteclone, Mobilibounce, and Mobilislide were all placed along the axis between Mobilium and Protisium, so apparently they held traces of the other order. Galleous supposed that made sense.
"But the important part of this is that the resonances were still balanced, even though there could be two kinds of energy in one Song," Ingressus went on. "If the Mobilium Song it was forming had some Aggressium energy in it, then the Aggressium Song would have some of a different kind of energy, and one of the others would have the missing Mobilium energy. So that means that the energy flowing into the resonances was probably already divided up by the time it actually reached them. Instead of just a single stream of raw Song power that is converted into Aggressium, Mobilium, and so on at the resonance itself, it's probably four different, equal flows that are already separate from each other. And most of it will flow into one Song, but a little can bleed over to some of the others."
Galleous nodded. "So the question is, what first separates the orders out from each other? And does that have anything to do with the death of the resonances?"
"I don't know yet," Ingressus said, flipping ahead in the book again. "But I'm only on the first journal, maybe we figured that out at some point."
"We?" Galleous echoed.
"This is what Voltar was sending me to find," Ingressus said. "Errai– one of the Voltaris from yesterday– she recognized some of the landmarks from the memory. At the end of the trail there was an old research site, where my clan used to study the Songs. These journals are their findings." He nodded at the books. "There were also these."
He brought out a strange-looking Song, a vaguely yellowish one with spiky bubbles of energy inside the hazy shell, and handed it to Galleous without taking his eyes off the book. Galleous took the Song, studying it and listening to its tune.
"This is either some new kind of Song that's exactly halfway between Aggressium and Supporium," he said finally, "Or..." He studied the Song, its hazy edges and the slightly muffled tune. "It never had the chance to form fully?"
Ingressus nodded. "Protosongs. Probably the only ones left in Ardonia."
Galleous had kept up to some degree with Ingressus's research through the years. He would often at least glance through whatever book or research paper he was planning to bring back to Ataraxia, to make sure what he had wasn't just a repeat of something Ingressus already knew. And there had been dozens of times when he would be the sounding board when Ingressus was mulling over a new problem or piece of information. But Ingressus's expertise far outpaced his by now. He didn't know what the significance could be of having the protosongs themselves, but he knew that having something no one else had had before would give him an edge. And based on Ingressus's visible eagerness as he held his clan's research journal open before him, the young Voltaris Master knew that as well.
"You know," Galleous observed, handing the Song back. "Most people your age get this excited about going on a date."
"I have more important things to worry about."
Galleous chuckled. "True enough."
Galleous left Ingressus to his research, wandering over to the small kitchen corner to make them some dinner. The furnace, he realized, was already lightly smoldering, with the cloak Ingressus had borrowed draped over the top. He touched the slightly-damp fabric, noting the faint discoloration to the fabric.
"What's with this?" he asked.
Ingressus glanced up. "I was trying to get rid of some stains. But I haven't gotten all the blood out yet."
"Wh–" Galleous spun to face him. "Blood?"
Galleous had learned early on that Ingressus had a habit of being very matter-of-fact about things most people would not be so blasé about. Galleous didn't know if it was a Voltaris thing– being jaded to misfortune after so long an exile– or if it was just Ingressus who thought that making an offhand comment about helping to stitch up a clanmate's wounded arm as a child was nothing for someone to be surprised by.
But Ingressus was at least aware by now that mentioning blood tended to spark concern from listeners. He shook his head at Galleous, raising a hand in reassurance. "It's not mine."
Galleous stared at him. "That's mildly better. What happened? And why is your arm bandaged?"
"A group of Legionnaires confronted us out in Voltaria," Ingressus said, as though that were a normal thing. "We had a fight. No losses on our side, only mild injuries."
"And theirs?"
"Three dead," Ingressus said. "One unconscious, one fled, one wounded and warned to leave the province. It probably won't work, but maybe some in the Legion will be wise enough to leave before my clan returns."
Galleous let out a breath. "Kid, one of these days we're gonna have to have a talk about ranking your priorities."
Ingressus spread his hands. "I'm fine. I'm sorry if I worried you but I am fine. You've seen me injured worse than a few claw marks."
"I suppose a few claw marks aren't going to take years off my life," Galleous admitted. "Unlike certain other times."
"I've only been at death's door twice since you've known me."
"You say that like it's a normal thing to say."
The woods were dim and shadowed as Errai snuck through the trees, Shidar close behind her. The full moon had come and gone, and even with the tree limbs now bare of leaves, the patchy clouds obscured the stars enough that their movements were unnoticeable, even to those supposed to be keeping watch.
This still felt insanely stupid to her. Absurd, reckless, asking to be caught and killed. An attack for supplies was one thing– get in and get out fast, either avoid Ardoni entirely or leave none in any state to call for help. That had worked for centuries, and when it didn't, it was through no fault of the Voltaris. To attempt to contact an Ardoni from another clan– every lesson she'd ever been taught was telling her this was a terrible plan. And yet, here she was, sneaking through Nestoria in search of a promised ally.
The reactions of the Voltaris in their camp to the report of their supply run had been predictable. Shock, disbelief, and then relief and hope at the news that their Master was out there and Voltar was still in his hands, and more shock, disbelief, and skepticism at his plan for peace. It had taken an entire evening of talking, explaining, of reiterating Ingressus's arguments and falling back on "Voltar supports his plan" before their camp warmed up to the idea.
In a way, this trip was a test. If Errai and Shidar didn't return, or returned with bad news, then their camp would steal a messenger bird from somewhere and warn their Master of what had happened.
Errai glanced back at Shidar. The older Voltaris was still on her tail, his cloak pulled close around him so only the faintest glow of his eyes were visible. He had been the first to put his faith in Ingressus's plan about the resonances, the first to be touched by that hope of leaving the mountains. When they had set out for Voltaria on the supply run he'd brought a small book along with him, collecting autumn-tinged leaves and pressing them between the pages to show his daughters when he returned to their camp. He'd left Northwind wanting to show them just a few small scraps of the world beyond the mountains, and he had returned with a promise that they would be able to see it for themselves one day, without fear or sneaking around. Errai hoped, for her friend's sake, that that promise would truly come to pass.
There was a light from up ahead, the soft glow of a lantern. The two Voltaris reacted as one, pressing themselves against tree trunks to disguise their silhouettes as the light drew closer. A Nestoris walked through the trees, a shortsword sheathed at his side and a lantern in his hand. His gaze wandered across the forest, searching casually for something. A village guard, most likely, patrolling the borders and keeping an eye out for undead so his clanmates could sleep. Errai had done that job herself plenty of times.
The Nestoris wandered past, failing to notice the two Voltaris who lingered outside the glow of his lantern. He didn't carry the same fears as a Voltaris would– he was keeping an eye out for mindless undead, not an enemy who could anticipate his movements and wait for the right time to slip past. He carried a lantern, so he wasn't afraid of being seen and targeted– and his reliance on its light left his night vision dulled to anything past its circle of light. Perhaps it was good enough for seeking out the occasional zombie, which would shamble right over to you and be cut down easily for its trouble. But this was not the behavior of a guard who had reason to expect a serious attack. Any Voltaris who screwed up like this risked signing their camp's death warrants, but this Nestoris knew nothing of that kind of life.
Was this kind of safety and security what the rest of the world considered normal? Errai couldn't imagine that kind of life. Surely there was still danger, even out among the rest of Ardonia? Bandits, monsters... were they really so uncommon that those who defended you could be so lax in their duties? Was this guard incompetent, or could you really just... be so unafraid?
The Nestoris moved on, and Errai and Shidar crept across his path and into the Nestoris village. The place was quiet with the onset of night, with just a few homes still aglow with candles and a handful of Ardoni gathered around a low-burning fire. This was not a place whose inhabitants needed to hide for survival, who lived their lives ready to flee or fight. Errai's chest burned with envy at their safe and comfortable life but she took a deep breath and turned away. She had a job to do, and that job wasn't to strike some fear into the villagers. The two Voltaris crept through the village, keeping to the shadows of the trees and freezing at the sound of footsteps.
Nether, Errai thought. This feels like sneaking into a frostbiters' den.
Actually, she might prefer the predators.
A faint light glowed from a hillside up ahead, the glow of the cave opening striped with black from the bare branches of a willow that sheltered the space around the entrance. Errai crept to the entrance to investigate and Shidar took up a watch position near the willow's trunk. He gave her a slight nod, and Errai gave one in return. Time to get this done.
The inside of the cave wasn't brightly lit. Only a few candles were burning, one of them next to a diamond staff with flowing blades that had been laid down on a shelf for the night. The staff's owner was turned slightly away, replacing a book on a shelf as he stifled a yawn.
Errai darted forward and clamped a hand over his mouth. The Nestoris stiffened, hands grabbing for her arm on instinct. Errai's free hand snaked around him, pinning his arms to his side. The elder Ardoni went still, ears flattening back in alarm.
"Aegus Nestoris," Errai whispered.
He nodded. The Master was keeping his composure well, Errai could respect that.
"I did not come here to harm you," she told him. "But I will defend myself if you call for help, and your clanmates will not take me down easily. Nod if you understand."
Aegus nodded slowly, a fraction of his tension seeping away. Errai slowly let go, pushing away the instincts telling her that yellow markings meant death, that she was giving an enemy the chance to harm her, that a single shout would bring warriors down on her and Shidar.
He has been helping our Master, she reminded herself. And by extension, the rest of us. He won't call for his warriors. Probably.
The Nestoris Master turned slowly to face her as Errai stepped back, letting her cloak open slightly over her markings even as she tensed involuntarily. He could see she was Voltaris, how would he react, what would he do...
As it turned out, Aegus's reaction was fairly anticlimactic. A look of surprise crossed his face at the sight of her markings, but there was no further reaction. No alarm, no indignation, no disgust. And even the surprise hadn't been particularly intense.
"You're not as shocked as I expected," Errai noted.
"You wouldn't be the first Voltaris I've met on benign terms," Aegus replied. "Did Master Ingressus send you?"
Errai watched him closely, inspecting his reaction. "He told me you're an ally."
Aegus cocked his head. "You seem skeptical. I assure you, I meant what I said to him."
Errai folded her arms. "Surely it isn't hard to understand that this situation would seem too good to be true. For so long you and your peers have been after my clan's destruction, not our safety. Anything that appears too good to be true has only ever been a trap for us."
Aegus's gaze flickered downwards, but he nodded. "I understand. I wouldn't expect you to trust me straight away. But I hope I can prove to you that I am sincere."
He did sound sincere. He didn't even look nervous at the sight of an enemy Ardoni that had found her way into his village and right to his home. Surely that indicated that he trusted Ingressus. And if he intended to betray the Voltaris, then there would be nervousness about his deceit being discovered, right?
"There have been reports that there were fewer Nestoris on the raids in recent times," she said. "Was that your doing?"
"I have been doing my best to stall the tournaments," Aegus said. "But there is only so many times you can tell a person something before they become deaf to it. I fear the other Masters no longer take me very seriously where the raids are concerned, but I still have influence over those in my own clan."
"And they know nothing of your contact with Master Ingressus?"
"Nothing," Aegus promised. "The Masters are unaware, and will remain so until the time is right to bring the news to them. Something like this cannot afford the complications their knowledge would bring. And there is only one other Ardoni in this province who knows, and he will keep the secret, the same as me."
"You are certain of that?"
"Yes," Aegus said. "He knew your Master for quite some time before I ever met him, and I never had any idea. Nor would anyone in Nestoria even think to ask him about the topic. The secret is safe with us, I promise you."
Words, it was all words. Words could be deceiving, could have a double meaning or be retracted in the future or simply be entirely false. Errai didn't have all night to interrogate the Nestoris Master. She had to choose to either trust or not.
"You are aware of how this would look if the rest of the Ardoni found out about your partnership," she said. "You know what the consequences could be for you. And yet you still intend to help our clan?"
"I do," Aegus said, holding her gaze. "I owe a debt to an Ardoni of your clan– he spared my life with nothing to gain from it, and in so doing opened my eyes to the truth of this war." His gaze lowered again, a hint of sadness seeping into his voice. "I learned recently that he was killed in a raid, many years ago, by an Ardoni I admit that I enabled."
He lifted his eyes again. "I cannot take that back. I cannot save him, or erase the wounds of the past. I can never repay my debt to him directly. But in the name of peace, in the name of ending the war that makes good Ardoni die for nothing on both sides– I will help you and your Master bring your people back."
Errai nodded slowly. His words lined up with what Ingressus had told them. She hesitated for a moment longer, but then sighed and reached into her cloak.
"I can't say I trust you yet," she said, looking down at the paper she held. "But my Master does. You are in contact with him, send this on to him."
Aegus took it, and Errai stepped back towards the mouth of the cave. "Perhaps we will speak again. Or perhaps not."
"I hope we will," Aegus said. "Do you need provisions for your journey?"
Errai paused, glancing back at him. The offer was tempting, it was true. But... no. She wasn't there on trust yet.
"I will be fine. But... thank you for the offer."
Aegus stood there in his cave, holding the letter that was the only evidence of the visitor he's received. The Voltaris had disappeared as quickly as she had come, without a trace. The banished clan really was good at hiding, it seemed. To have gotten all the way into the village without being noticed by anyone... it was late but it wasn't that late. Aegus made a mental note to talk to the Nestoris who stood guard at night, and to figure out whether there was a better way to meet with the Voltaris if they did continue to contact him. Even if they were good at sneaking around, coming straight into the village every time would only be pushing their luck. Ingressus had once mentioned the dangers of sending messenger birds to the mountain camps, which was likely why they hadn't simply sent him the letter themselves. Though the avians took confidentiality very seriously, they could still be followed. Apparently Aegus had been chosen as the go-between for Ingressus and his clan.
Aegus looked down at the letter he held. Messenger birds typically carried correspondence verbally, memorizing a message and then repeating it back to its recipient. But they would sometimes carry physical messages as well, such as records of business transactions or when someone wanted their loved ones to be able to look back on the words they'd exchanged. Or, in this case, when extra secrecy was needed. The paper was folded to hide the contents, the outer layer blank and empty. The seal was... not the typical wax, he didn't know what it was made of. But regardless of the material, it did the job of holding the papers closed– and would clearly show if it had been tampered with.
It was a test of trust, he realized. The seal wouldn't stop him from opening the letter if he wanted to, but it would be clear when Ingressus received the note that Aegus had read words that were not meant for him. Perhaps, in a way, it was also a test of how much he trusted the Voltaris– whether he would seek to find out what they were saying that they didn't want him to see.
Aegus set the paper aside. He wouldn't snoop. The Voltaris he'd met didn't trust him, she had said so herself. It was likely the letter didn't contain anything particularly dangerous for the Voltaris– Nether, it wouldn't surprise him if it were written in some code. Perhaps the other Masters would berate him for not making sure of the contents if they knew– they would say he had risked allowing the Voltaris to make plans against them.
But Aegus believed Ingressus's intentions. As Keleus had said, the risk Ingressus had taken in contacting Aegus made no sense for him to take with malicious intent. He had forsaken revenge against the Ardoni he hated most and, according to Achillean, that had been no small feat.
Ingressus had chosen to trust him. This Voltaris had chosen to trust him, if only just a little bit. And maybe the other Masters would yell at him, but in the name of peace, Aegus could choose to trust in return.
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(9789 words)
Total word count: 130,354
If you have any resonance theories you want to share, now's the time! I've (tried to) put in some puzzle pieces for it, but I'm curious about what people have picked up on.