Grenaade's Songs of War Oneshots

legacy

Note: This is so self-indulgent someone please stop me.

Expanding on the Nestoris Mythos with my own stuff. I know it sounds bad that I added an OC to a supposedly canon-compliant fic, and I know it sounds bad that he's hailed as a saint. But hear me out-- he was immortalised for all of the wrong reasons-- he was a poster child, or war propaganda. This is totally not because I wanted to write my own spin-off of my own characters in SoW, at all. /s

***THIS IS NOT CANON TO THE SELENIS AUREAM STORYLINE***

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"I imagine you must be in immense conflict. As am I." Aegus uttered, looking at the ruins of a garden, while he clutched even tighter on his robe. The morning air was still cold, but at least the wind was gentle. There were no sounds of morning birds, because the birds were either burned to death, or died from asphyxiation in the smoke.

Although the Ardoni species had their graveyard, burying all of those who had returned to nature; Achillean's family had their own memorial garden, with names of their long-gone ancestors on stone plaques for convenient remembrance.

Even after the Nestoris families had long divided, most newly-appointed masters, even those from rival families, would pay a visit to the garden bathed under moonlight. For none of their families had ever held as much loyalty to the Nestoris as Achillean's family.

Despite the holiness of the place, it was not immune to the fires set by the Deathsinger.

Having withstood over centuries of war, despite the fact that the garden had seen thousands of fires, it had never yielded under threats of destruction-- even if it was reduced to a wasteland of rock and rubble, their people would, undeniably, rebuild it over and over again, until the names of the moonlit ones were erased from history.

Ironically, the Deathsinger's fires desecrated his brother--(*ex*-brother, now)'s few heritage connections. It was one of the places which reminded Achillean of his purpose, and burning it down, unfortunately, would not remove that purpose. In fact, it would only drive a deeper wound into Achillean's already shattered heart; opening more holes of painful truths in the carefully-built dome of lies Achillean had told himself-- every night since the moment he had fired Aggrobeam towards his brother.

Achillean kneeled down, picking up a broken-off memorial tablet from the charred grassland.

Achillean recalled, "My father... He used to bring me here when he's not tending to his duties. I was too young to understand what his words truly meant, to understand the legends I was told; as I was free from the burden of duty," He looked up, towards the burning hills in front of him. "But only now, do I understand,"

"...Why our ancestors have always been alone."

"On the very day our great forebearer had sworn his oath, the stars wept above him and the lands burned under his feet.

Though he was brought forth by his love towards the world, he was inevitably bound to walk the path dictated by oath.

Thus he who carries the light of the moon, he who hails from a lineage older than time, must walk alone on a path as dark as a starless night,

Carrying all of his sorrows and woes in his heart.

But he does not fear, nor does he falter, for he continues to look forward, unleashing his vehemence in the face of his enemies, to rid Ardonia of corruption.

I fear the day, Achillean, that you will finally choose to take up our legacy, and swear to uphold the oath, regardless of the waxing and waning of the world. I fear, my boy, I fear the day you will become a fighting Nestoris."

Achillean put his fingers over the inscribed letters, feeling the cold touch of the dents and bumps. Looking at the letters on the plaque, a sense of nostalgia flooded over his heart. He fell silent, in admiration and awe, to someone he had read in the books he loved.

Arcass Nestoris.

Nestoria's beloved betrayer.

"Master, does your Nestor still carry memories of Arcass?" Achillean remembered the story. It was an age-old cautionary tale, of the dangers of putting a pointless pursuit of personal desire before the clan.

Aegus closed his eyes, his markings glowed ever so slightly as he reached into Nestor. He inhaled. "Only the pain of betrayal and disappointment, son." Aegus replied, "Do not forget that it was a Nestoris master who had ordered his execution."

"It seemed that the Council was willing to pardon Arcass of his treachery at first." Achillean reminisced the nights he would spend near the books, devouring one hardback after another. "Because he was right about the clan..."

"That was until..." Aegus replied, equally knowledgeable of the event.

Achillean cut him off, "Do you think the sudden confession of his forbidden relationship, in the trial, was..." He now struggled to find the right words. "Was... too hard for the Council to stomach that they declared him insane?"

Achillean stared at the stone, but not actually paying attention to the words on it anymore. "If I had told the other masters the truth-- would they sentence me to the same fate?"

Aegus shuddered at the comparison. The boy was right, although Nestoria had claimed to have changed their old ways since the civil war, some things had still remained the same; for the sake of maintaining the order between the clans, the masters would've convinced themselves.

Achillean turned towards Aegus, his eyes now strained with pain, his cheeks puffed up as he came to a realisation."Was that why you didn't defend Ingressus in the tournament?" He dropped the plaque on the ground, then he rose up suddenly. "If- If I had rushed towards him and told everyone the truth, would you lock me up as well?"

Aegus held Achillean still, stabilizing the young man's body as well as attempting to do the same to his turbulent emotions.

"I will do what I must, as the master of the Nestoris." Aegus's voice was stern. "The choices I make are made for the people." Aegus didn't know if he was convincing Achillean or himself.

Achillean was certain that Aegus was at fault without doubt, but he couldn't help but blame himself for his own mistakes as well. "If I hadn't convinced him... None of this would've happened. People died because of me."

Both Ardoni stared at the charred ruins of the garden again, its destruction caused by the person they had held dear not long ago. And maybe, just maybe, despite everything, both of them still held that severed connection in their hearts, like a child clinging onto a broken kitestring, even if the kite had drifted away.

Achillean sighed as he looked at the ground, the sudden burst of anguish dissipating. "We cannot change what we have said or done, but," He brought out a haphazard bouquet of wildflowers from his inventory, setting them down on a small stone elevation, finally remembering why he'd wanted to come here in the first place, "We can try to fix what's left. So no more people may undergo the suffering we have faced."

Everything around was solemn and silent, aside from the crackling of fire and sparks in the distance. Trees-- or the burnt remains of the trees, rustled, the foliage around them lifeless, a reminder of the further destruction that had yet to come. The world was at conflict, yet those two men were at peace, at least, for just a while.

He bowed solemnly towards the ruined monument, his hand over his chest. "We shall continue to honour your light, fellow forefathers and foremothers."

Then Aegus did the same, taking one final look at the garden before their departure from Nestoria.