Chapter Text
“This is the master of the Voltaris.”
His head swam as Ingressus bobbed in and out of consciousness.
“Maybe we should just kill him.” said a younger voice.
Logically, Ingressus registered it as a threat, but his body couldn’t care enough to react to it.
***
Dark gray. Above him.
Stone.
A cave. He was in a cave.
How…? His gaze darted from one corner of the ceiling to the next. His right ear stung, and he reached up to find it was bandaged tightly. The last thing he remembered…
Blue markings, red lights. Cold, wet.
He froze.
My father.
Dead.
Ingressus curled up, a suffocating weight settling on his chest.
He sat up straight, looking around the cave. Something sparkled in the walls. Nestoria.
Voltar. The sword… my sword.
Not here. His breath quickened as dread and regret blossomed inside him.
He looked down, and it all gave way to sheer panic.
Golden.
“I see you are awake, young master.” Came a deep voice from the mouth of the cave. Ingressus stood, whirling to face the voice. A Nestoris stood there, with golden horns longer than any Ingressus had ever seen. And on his back, he carried a staff with two diamond spires twisting around the central wooden shaft.
Nestor.
Angry tears formed at the corners of Ingressus’ eyes.
“Could you not have at least allowed me the dignity of dying among my brothers!?” He demanded. He backed away from the Nestoris master, his gaze darting across his features and watching his every move. Nonetheless, the elder remained calm, making no attempt to approach him.
“I am not going to harm you, young one. I want to help you.”
“What motivation could you possibly have for helping me!? My clan was slaughtered by the likes of you! And now…” He felt cold stone brush against his back and sank to the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest.
“Now I have lost every connection to them I had. I. Hate. You!” He said, raising his voice to hide the fact it was cracking. He gripped his arms, his nails digging into the skin of his now-yellow markings. It hurt, yes, but he didn’t care. He hated the color, with every fiber of his being. Its very presence was a betrayal of his people.
He wanted it to hurt.
The master sighed, looking at Ingressus with an expression that was both sad and chronically tired.
“It has… been a lifelong regret of mine that members of my clan choose to participate in the genocide of yours.”
“…Your words do not bring my brothers back to life.” Ingressus said.
”You are right. They do not. But… I believe, if we are both willing to learn, we may reach a future where this needless bloodshed is cast out from our world… But do you believe the same?”
Ingressus considered this. The ardoni’s words were tempting, but how could he be sure they were genuine?
“…I don’t even know your name.”
“I am Master Aegus Nestoris. For as long as you bear the golden markings of my clan, you will be under my protection. I promise you that. What is your name, young one?”
”…Ingressus. Voltaris. ”
”What future do you see for your clan, Ingressus?”
”What future is there for us?”
“If nothing changes, none. But I believe that I as a Clan Master am responsible to shape the future of my clan. And you… likewise for yours. I believe there is a future Ardonia where the Voltaris can live in peace, but you are young yet, and I am old. We both have much to learn.”
Ingressus snorted, looking away. “You’d admit that?”
Aegus inclined his head. “Would you?”
Ingressus looked down. “…I want a future for my clan where the championship is abolished and we are allowed to live in peace, long enough to see horns like yours. Where we don’t have to hide our markings to avoid being targeted. If I have to learn or change first for that to happen… so be it.”
Aegus nodded. “Let us ensure that future is a bright one.”
***
Ingressus paced about the cave, glancing around as he did. He picked up a book and opened it, but after reading only a few sentences cast it aside, shaking his head. He had expected, he supposed, that life in Nestoria would be calm, or perhaps even boring, but it wasn’t. It was restless. He massaged his scalp with his fingers, trying not to focus on the ever-present golden color of his markings. What his father, Dominus, would say if he saw them. The fact that he never would. He dragged a hand over his face. The claustrophobic weight on his chest had yet to let up.
“Ingressus?” Master Aegus asked. Ingressus jumped, whirling around his heart rate spiking. The master raised his hands, bending his knees slightly in a gesture of peace. Ingressus looked down, realizing he had instinctively clenched his hands into fists and taken up a defensive stance. Ingressus cleared his throat.
“Ahem- erm, Master Aegus.” He inclined his head toward him.
”It has been nearly two weeks, and you have hardly left your room since you arrived.” Aegus pointed out.
“Yes, well. Pardon me for grieving all I have ever known.” Ingressus said, a hint of bitterness seeping into his voice. Master Aegus nodded.
”As you have every right to. But all the same… You seem to need to move about more.”
”Why?”
“Perhaps it would help you heal.”
”…Hmph.”
“Ingressus-” Master Aegus sighed. “It is alright to grieve those who have died. But do not punish yourself for surviving.”
Ingressus looked away, unable to form a response.
“Where would I go?” he finally managed to ask.
“Well, that is up to you.” Aegus responded. “Although… I think there’s someone you may want to meet.”