Tygren has a few choice words for the Voltaris as he prepares them to push forward with his plans to find and reclaim the Prime Songs, but is the clan prepared to hear the truth that has been hidden from them for too long?
Are they ready for their peace to be shattered so soon?
Author's note: this chapter is structured slightly different to the rest, but I think it's worth it
also the art for this chapter H U R T S me - it's wrong on so many levels and it makes me angy XD
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Tygren stepped onto the podium at the docks before the crowd of Voltaris all patiently awaiting his words. He had rallied what forces he could overnight, ready to make his pitch - he had much to say to the clan after all that had transpired and the sooner he could conspire against Ingressus in his favour, the better; he knew he would need the clan's help for what he was about to do. What struck the crowd the most was that Voltar in his hands – a familiar blade in the palm of unfamiliar hands. Questions swirled their heads for they knew that it belonged to the Deathsinger.
Or did it?
Their murmurs were silenced as Tygren stamped Voltar on the ground, the metal clangs loud and clear across the city.
My brothers and sisters, we have come so far since the time of the Great War. We have survived everything that Ardonia could throw at us. We have survived even the most gruelling tasks of the clan champions as they ruthlessly stole the lives of so many of us merely because of the colour of our markings. Throughout that, we have stood strong in the name of hope – the hope of a better future for us all. That hope had long stood in the form of the Deathsinger – the first of us to fight back against the other clans to reclaim what we so rightfully owned, what we so rightfully deserved.
Today, that ends!
The Deathsinger is no longer your hopeful saviour. We have bent over backwards for the sake of his promised plans in our rise to rank and he has failed you all. He has failed us all. For over a century we have slaved away and sacrificed too much in the name of an Ardoni who has spent his time working against us.
Do you know why he does not stand before you as I do?
Because he is weak. He is pathetic. He is not strong enough to do what is necessary to allow us to grow from the shadows and stand united as a clan once more. I, however, will do anything to bring us out from the bottomless pit the other clans tried to hide us in.
You all hear the name 'Achillean Nestoris' and you shudder. You know what that name means. You know him by his other name: the Tidesinger. You know what he has done to people like you and I. I am willing to bet that some of you have even seen his weapon closer than you would ever like to. After the Great War, the world thought both the Deathsinger and the Tidesinger dead, but we knew better. We knew that the Deathsinger would rise again and be the foundations on which we can build. Little did we know that the Tidesinger would also live.
Yes, I see you shaking your heads at the knowledge that the Tidesinger lived not just to see another day, but to see 154 years. The Deathsinger did not kill him.
I did.
I killed the Tidesinger.
I see your shocked faces at this realisation, and I bet you're wondering how this all came to be. I will gladly answer that for you all.
YOU ARE READING
Aftermath
Fanfiction"I do not wish to kill you, Achillean. But if you refuse to surrender..." But what if Achillean did surrender? What if, on that fateful night atop Mt Velgrin, Achillean laid down his staff? 154 years is a long time to wait for plans to fall into pla...
