Legion of Light V: In the Shadow of Ancient Champions

[Flames of Hyperion]

“Ingwe.”

Meaningful silences punctuated by light banter. Castor was by now fairly used to the vagaries of a conversation with Ingwe, vagaries that to the inexperienced could be interpreted as awkwardness. The night was growing short now, a fine mist rolling off the nearby mountains and infiltrating the small Legionnaire camp. The sentry change of an hour prior had seen Lord Arminas’s Rangers of the Eclipse take over, so neither human was overly concerned about being caught by surprise, but the predawn stillness did precipitate an eerie sort of alertness.

“Hm?”

“About Arminas’s decision…”

Castor knew also just how much Ingwe had hoped to save the city of Anebrilith from Xem’zund. Of al the Legionnaires, the young man was the most idealistic, the most honour-bound, and the most prone to taking failure personally. Equal parts respect and concern coloured the huntsman’s thoughts as he tried to work out how to broach the matter. They could not afford to lose the talismanic Nipponese, not now.

To his surprise, Ingwe’s reply was gentle and calm.

“It’s alright, Castor,” the warrior-mage spoke, smiling softly and sadly into the surrounding stillness. The older man did not miss the hint of sorrow that tinged the words, but neither did he fail to recognise the determination that underlined them.

“In the end, I do trust their… Lord Arminas, Lord Turgon, Telchar, Nogeres… I do trust their decision in the matter,” Ingwe continued, his voice a modest whisper that nonetheless carried amongst the canvas tents and neatly-piled stacks of weapons and supplies. “If anybody can make a rational decision to carry the fight elsewhere, it’s them, not me. They wouldn’t have chosen to do so lightly.”

Ingwe sighed, exhaling long and wispily into the crisp winter air. His eyes were fixated upon a point in nowhere from above his large-rimmed glasses, his youthful features set in the very expression of composure. Despite this, though, Castor realised that the young man was rationalising the matter to himself. One last time.

“If they believe that more lives can be saved this way, then it is my duty to fight for them to the utmost of my abilities. I have to do what I can to make this gamble succeed… to even the odds in our favour. Only then will the spirits of those who have sacrificed themselves to our cause so far be appeased. Only then can the souls of those who have fallen in this terrible war rest in peace… when the future of those lives remaining is secure.”

Ingwe smiled again as he finished. This time there was no trace of sorrow… only determination and resolve.

Castor broke out into a relieved chuckle.

“Thank the Thanes for that,” he grinned in return, slapping a firm hand onto the startled young man’s slim shoulder. His brown eyes gleamed in genuine pleasure as he spoke. “We wouldn’t have known what to do if you were still set against it.”

At the shock on the Nipponese’s face, he felt compelled to continue.

“Don’t know if you’ve realised this, Ingwe, but you’ve come to symbolise the frail hope that we of the Legion carry with us… the hope that the actions of a brave few can change the world for the better.” The hand that clasped Ingwe’s shoulder squeezed once in emphasis and appreciation. “More than Arminas, or Telchar, or Glorfindel, or anyone… you’re the spiritual heart of this band of brothers. More than anyone, you let us dream that one day, we might be remembered as heroes.”

By then Ingwe’s expression had changed to one of slack-jawed wonder and disbelief. Of all the reactions he could have made, the one of innocent boyish astonishment was possibly the least fitting of a hero… but Castor knew that this, at the heart of it all, was what truly inspired him to follow the young man.

“I’m not joking, you know,” the huntsman laughed as he rose to his feet, gratefully stretching aching limbs. Despite the banter his eyes were sincere, and though they only served to increase the confusion apparent on Ingwe’s face, Castor knew that his job was done.

“Think about it,” he urged, walking away with a nonchalant wave, before adding in a louder voice, “but don’t forget to get some sleep, either!”

Ingwe did just that.