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DOMINUS
Early in the morning, Dominus had been sweeping snow to make the path in front of his hut actually walkable, when he found out what was coming for him, for his clan…and for his son.
"Master Dominus, sir!" A breathless Voltaris sprinted through the snow towards him, shallow scratches marring his skin, interrupting the Voltaris master mid-sweep. Dominus recognized him as one of the scouts that had been on patrol around the Voltaris' makeshift camp, and his feelings of dread only grew when he remembered that there had been two other Ardoni on patrol with him.
"What is it, Zeltha?" Dominus asked, praying that what he already suspected wasn't true. But it was.
"They've found us. They'll be here in about an hour." No, no, not this soon, we've only moved here a week ago. No, it can't be… their attacks are increasing in number ever since, well, ever since I killed the Nestoris Master.
"Where are the other two members of your patrol?"
"Dead." There was no sadness in the young Ardoni's voice, no emotion at all, just a coldness that bit harder into Dominus' heart than the freezing winter winds. Zeltha was only, what, 15 years of age? And yet he had been exposed to so much violence that he hardly cared anymore. "When I saw that the other clans were coming, I- I ran, Master. But they stayed to fight. I'm sorry for not helping them."
"No, Zeltha, it is important that you came back to warn us. You may go home, I can sense you are tired and anyway, everyone who cannot fight should stay safe."
"But Master, I-"
"No, stay home and rest. One thing you could do, though, is get someone to warn the other Voltaris for me."
"Thank you." The Voltaris gave a short nod and trudged off through the snow, and Dominus sighed as he turned away, back to his house. Ingressus was so scared, last time. And this time will be even more of a bloodbath, as we have less numbers. Is it better to tell him now and prepare him, or allow him a few more hours of blissful ignorance? No, I must warn him.
Dominus walked back into his house, the wall creaking slightly as he leaned his shovel against it, next to Voltar and his sword. There were three rooms in his house, a living room and a bedroom each for himself and Ingressus. It was considered luxurious amongst the Voltaris, two more rooms than most had, but had they been born any other clan, everything could have been… everything could have been better for him.
Maybe Dominus should have just let Ingressus be taken from him as a baby. Surely, despite their cruelty, the other clans would never kill an infant. And life would have been better for him. But deep down, Dominus knew that even if his son would have lived a happier life, he didn't know if he himself could live without the young boy who brought so much hope into his life in such dark times. A selfish reason, and yet as he saw Ingressus play happily with the few other remaining Voltaris children, or pull him off to show off something he had made, or fall asleep in his arms, he felt that maybe he hadn't been as bad a father after all.
He opened the door as quietly has he could, but it gave a loud creak, and Ingressus stirred from his sleep.
"Father?" he mumbled, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and trying to sit up, then giving up and lying back down again. "why so early?" he whined.
"Good morning to you, too," Dominus said, amused. He sat down next to the pile of blankets that acted as a makeshift bed for his son.
"Something's wrong, you have that look. Whatcha needa tell me?" Ever the perceptive one. Had he been born somewhere else, it would probably take him far in life. Dominus sighed, and pulled some of Ingressus' blankets off him, to which the younger Ardoni grunted and pulled them up again.
"Come on, you have to get up,"
"But it's cooooooooooold, and early too. Why are you waking me uuuuuuuuuup?"
"Gress, they're coming," This stopped Ingressus in his tracks, whatever those were (as he refused to move).
"But- we just moved! You told me we'd be safe when we move!"
"I know, but I'm not always right, you know. Gather your things, then go hide. And no peeking," Last time, Ingressus had opened the trapdoor, climbed out and wandered into the house. He would have been found, had Dominus not seen him peeking out of a window and ushered him back into hiding.
"But I want to make sure you're safe!"
"It's all right, Gress, I'll always be here for you." Ingressus nodded skeptically, and Dominus reassured him. But in truth, his biggest fear was that someday either his son, or him, be killed and leave the other alone.
Selfish, he knew, but again, he didn't think that he would be able to live without Ingressus.
"Here, I'll help you make your area more comfy, how about that?" He walked over to the trapdoor in the floor that led to the hastily-dug emergency bunker beneath their house, and opened it, then looked back over at his son, who was still resolutely refusing to move. "I know it's early but this is really important, they'll be here soon," This got Ingressus moving, and he clambered out of his makeshift bed and began to drag the blankets towards the trapdoor. With his father's help, the two managed to stuff them into the hole.
Outside, all other Voltaris who were able to fight were gathered around the center of their town, if one could call it that. The gentle snowfall had been replaced by a blizzard that was picking up speed, and the soft red glow of Voltaris markings was hardly visible.
But on the other hand, Dominus could also see other colours through the white.
Blue. Green. Purple. Yellow.
They were here.
"Ingressus, hide, now!" He didn't have to state the obvious, and Ingressus jumped into the bunker. "I'll be back for you, I promise." Dominus shut the trapdoor, pulling various other bedding over it. Grabbing his sword and Voltar from their position leaning against the wall in the main room, he ran out to help defend his clan.
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INGRESSUS
Ingressus was shivering in the cold, despite the blankets that surrounded him. Shivering with cold… and fear.
He'll come back, he always does, he reassured himself. He'll come back for you.
But what about all of the others? His mind whispered. They never came back.
Ingressus had only ever caught glimpses of the aftermath of each battle before he was wrapped back up in his father's arms, safe.
They looked so peaceful.
"What happened to them?" was a question that he had asked once. "Father, why are they asleep?"
And once before, "Why is Mother not waking up? And she's not Voltaris anymore…?"
Mother was always such a light sleeper. She'd wake at Ingressus' footsteps, no matter how quiet he tried to make them. But in amongst all the noise, the shouting, the running through the snow, the howling winds…
She never did wake up.
Ingressus never understood death, but he still knew that once someone was dead, they wouldn't come back.
"She's at rest now," Father had said.
"But she rests every night! And she still wakes up when I come to her,"
"Not this time, Gress. She's sleeping forever, now,"
He hadn't understood why his father had looked so sad. Sleeping forever wasn't bad, it didn't hurt. But he knew that Dominus was upset, and so he left him be.
But as the days passed by, he realized why Father was sad, and he began to feel it too. He just wished that someday she would come back. Her absence, the absence of her joyful laugh, her melodic voice that sang through the camp, calling him, it made everything sound so… quiet.
Ingressus wished that it was quiet now. He had always been told, try not to listen, try not to think about what happens out there. Think of us, think of the times we spent together, think of the times we spent together… with her. And he did. But every time he tried to imagine his mother's voice, there was only the rushing of the wind and a warped, almost painful tune that echoed in it's place.
That was before he heard the scream.
Trembling, he pressed back into the rough blankets, feeling the coarse thread under his skin as the sound replayed itself in his head.
At some point, perhaps not much time had passed, or perhaps a lot had passed, but he recognized the scream. It still held the same distinct tone as that time Ingressus had found himself lost in the forest, and his father called for him.
That time, it had held a word. "INGRESSUS!" Dominus had called, and Ingressus had felt immediately safe.
But this time… it held no word. Just a sound. And like the time that he had been lost, Ingressus ran towards it.
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Flinging the trapdoor open, Ingressus clambered out of the hole, feet thumping on the rough floorboards as he ran for the door. Tripping on a ridge, he picked himself up, and sprinted out into the snow.
And then he saw his father, and the strange, unfamiliar, frightening form of a different Ardoni, adorned in a bright golden-yellow, standing above him.
And his father saw him too. Don't, said his gaze. Run, hide, do all the things he had been told to do, go, just go… but Ingressus didn’t leave.
Picking up a handful of snow, he threw it as hard as he could at the yellow Ardoni.
It turned, fury written cold on his face, as cold as the biting winds that rushed around Ingressus, almost threatening to blow him away. It's markings flashed bright, the warped tune making a reappearance and drowning out the metallic clangs of swords and staffs outside.
The markings got brighter, the power rushing to the Nestoris' fingertips.
Brighter.
And black.
The strange Ardoni seemed to leave this world surprised, shock on it's face as a familiar blade stabbed through it's chest, tinted red and dripping the very same red into the snow.
And then the blade was gone, and the body crumpled to the ground, and there was Ingressus' father, standing, Voltar in hand, and the tip of the staff was coated in blood, and so was the snow, and so were Ingressus' hands, bloody with the fact that he had gotten someone killed-
"Ingressus." His father's voice spoke through Ingressus' spiraling guilt, and forced him to look up. "You were so brave."
And the Voltaris master embraced his son in his arms, and for the first time since the battle started, Ingressus felt warm again.