Chapter 4: Change

103 7 8
                                    

Back down the same path; in the same woods; in the same place. A familiar place.

Memory lane - one such that is still full of surprises even seven years later; and maybe one that may just change the end goal of this very journey

Author's note: one thing I want to make ABSOLUTELY clear: this is NOT a Stockholm Syndrome storyline. Ingressus is NOT in love with his captor. he is mentally unwell, but he is not deluded (per se). they say that curiosity killed the cat; but the cat would have to find his curiosity amongst the angst, first

yes this chapter was not updated in the usual update schedule. life do be a pain; I am trying, please just bear with me. I will get this back on track eventually

***************** 


It had been four years since he wandered the borderlands between Sendaria and Nestoria shrouded and cloaked in darkness under the cover of the night. It brought back some very familiar feelings – some that he had long since forgotten about, and some that he wished he didn't remember so well. Of all the steps he had taken to conceal his identity whilst traversing the hidden path through the forests, he was still at a loss for his own understanding of how he had managed to cope so well with once making these frequent trips. He would be lying to himself if he said that he wasn't anxious by his movements. Every step he took carried multiple risks: someone could find him, someone or something could kill him, he could expose himself by having a paramnesia episode and alert anyone or anything nearby. The list was endless. What if he were to injure himself and no-one knew where he was? Perhaps he subconsciously liked it that way. He felt sheer guilt for making his clan worry the way that he did.

How could they have faith in someone that had no faith in himself – someone so lost, so broken?

When he once made these trips between the territories, he used to only carry his broadsword, just in case he needed to defend himself against raging fauna or a wandering Ardoni out searching for him or the Tidesinger. He knew he was safer with it than without it, even with the risk that it carried that he could crumble and accidentally hurt himself with it. Now, though, he didn't take it very far, just in case. He knew, as Nakiri and Jerome had said; he was more stable after making these trips. He knew that on the other end of them was a broken Nestoris Ardoni who was simply grateful that there was someone out there not determined to kill him, someone still looking out for him, even if he knew he didn't deserve it; even if Ingressus was still conflicted by the matter... Even if they never spoke... His heart broke at the mess that Achillean was in every time he saw him.

He would remain in the cell, huddled in the corner and wrapped up in himself. They both knew that he was safe from the clans, but like Ingressus, Achillean was also subjected to the horrors of his own taunting mind. The only difference was that he was alone with them – he had no-one. There was no-one to break him from the hallucinations of himself killing someone he cared about. There was no-one to wake him from the night terrors that he experienced in what little sleep he allowed himself. Even when Ingressus made his visit once a moon, Achillean didn't physically look to be deteriorating.

That was why it shocked him when he returned one day to find him gone. There was not a trace of him but his Aggrobeam Song exactly where he had left it on the day that he had given it back to him – the day he returned to his clan. Ever since then, Ingressus did nothing but fear that he was dead, or that the clans had found him, or that he was on the run somewhere, alone and scared.

Maybe that was why he wasn't getting better...

But that was why he was between the borders once again, cloaked and disguised in the dead of night, just like those times four years ago – to find out what had happened, regardless of the outcome.

If there was one thing that pricked his mind as he walked, it was this sudden undeniable guilt that riddled his veins, making his hair stand on-end. What if Achillean had returned and awaited him...

AmendsWhere stories live. Discover now