Aftermath

Chapter 4: But Would You, For Me?

Achillean is on a hunger strike and Ingressus doesn't know what he can do to turn him around and resulting to talk of their childhood proved counter-productive when he touches a raw nerve in the Tidesinger, causing him to bring out emotions he didn't know he had

Author's note: some questions get asked, that's all imma say XD

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Achillean didn't know how much time had passed in the Overworld since he had surrendered to Ingressus. All he did know was that every time he woke up, his heart would sink further into the pit of his stomach – his stomach that growled louder with each passing hour. He had not been eating all the while he sat in the Nether. He refused to. It wasn't without resistance, for Ingressus would regularly present him with food in a bid to keep him alive, and this time was no different.

Ingressus appeared from his makeshift cave as always, carrying a plate of bread in one hand and Voltar in the other, and paused in the opening to look down at Achillean drearily slouched against the wall. He rarely moved from the ground. Ingressus sighed and held the plate lower as a gesture for Achillean to take it from him.

"You need to eat, Achillean. You will not last much longer..."

Achillean could hear the annoyance in the Deathsinger's voice, but he could also hear the hurt – that for all his power, he was powerless to convince his brother to do something as simple as eat. He turned his head away from Ingressus and closed his eyes, not even acknowledging his presence. He couldn't remember when he'd grown so cold in Ingressus' reception, but he remembered all too well the last time he had done.

As did Ingressus.

He carefully set the plate down on the ground and lowered himself until he was sat cross-legged next to Achillean. He looked across to him and scoffed at his stone-cold persistence.

"Fitting how we end up back here," he began with a sigh. "You; scalding me with silence – just as you did when we were children."

The finality and truth of his words slapped Achillean straight across the face and he hung his head in shame. He hated the way he had treated Ingressus when he was first initiated as Nestoris. He wished every day that he had rectified his mistake sooner, but there was nothing he could do about it. What was done, was done. Still, he said nothing.

Ingressus was stumped – he had been proven right. It didn't matter how righteous the Tidesinger was, he still had his flaws. He still made mistakes and he still felt negative emotions. What a shame he happened to project those negative emotions on Ingressus just because he was a Voltaris. It angered him to still think about how much it hurt. He huffed and Achillean still didn't move.

Only the natural sounds of the Nether filled the air but the heat of tension between the two Ardoni was rich, and it burned them both.

As much as it empowered him to have the Tidesinger prisoner, he still wasn't prepared to let him die. He needed a way to bring him back around.

"Do you remember the day that Master Aegus returned to me... These?" Ingressus looked up to Voltar that he had leant next to him, running his hand down the staff, and then glanced over to his broadsword unmoved from when they had first settled in the Nether.

Achillean acknowledged Ingressus' question and turned his head slightly, still looking at the ground, solemn. He remained silent, refusing to give Ingressus the satisfaction of bringing him round so easily. He was not in the mood for conversation anymore. That time had long passed.

Ingressus sighed and continued, nonetheless.

"I do. I remember it well. I had spent so long in your company believing I had failed – at such a young age – because I lost our clan's most prized possession in the ocean after the attack. It only turns out that Aegus had relieved me of such a burden so that I could... Grow up... Free... With you." His voice began to trail off as he struggled to find the right words. He wasn't prepared to dig deep into his emotions so early, but Achillean was getting to him in a way he never thought possible, even in his silence. "When he gave them back to me, he gave me something else – purpose. That is why we are both sat here, now."