Chapter Text
It had been more than a week when Cor’s chocobo returned to Galahd.
Prompto had been outside trying to politely get Ardyn to leave him alone as he tended to the garden for the past fifteen minutes, and the other man had only just left, though not without gifting Prompto yet another flower—a daffodil this time—when the unmistakable sounds of a distressed chocobo zooming down the street reached Prompto’s ears. He was concerned even before it ran into his garden. He grew more concerned when it registered that it was Cor’s chocobo, Summer.
And that she had no rider.
The watering can Prompto had been holding dropped to the ground with a clatter, water splashing over the ground and running down the slope as Prompto grabbed a fistful of greens to try and soothe the chocobo whilst gently stroking her neck.
“Calm down, calm down, hey, it’s alright.” He murmured, the bird slowly stopping her constant fretful ‘kwehs’ to fill her mouth with the food Prompto offered. It took the blonde all of five seconds to decide what he was going to do, and within minutes he was on Summer’s back, a travelling cloak wrapped around his shoulders and a pouch of food strapped to the chocobo’s saddle.
Maybe he was stupid for doing this without thinking about it first, but Prompto was worried for Cor’s safety, and that worry took top priority here.
“Take me to Cor.” He instructed Summer, spurring the bird into motion. Prompto refused to let himself think too much into what might have happened to Cor, knowing that his imagination had a tendency for going out of control and immediately into the worst situations.
He was sure Cor was fine, Summer probably just got spooked by something, threw him off and ran back to Galahd. That must have been it.
It had been far too long since the last time Prompto had been outside of Galahd, he realised as he rode further and further away from his home. He had no idea where he was or where he was going, and he could only pray that Summer knew what she was supposed to be doing.
It had begun to grow dark outside, even though Prompto was sure he’d only been riding for a few hours, and it had only been late morning when he left. It was cold, too, despite it being midway through summer.
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Prompto questioned Summer, the chocobo responding with a nervous ‘kweh’ and a ruffle of feathers. Something felt off about this track, and Prompto could hear the roars of behemoths and other creatures in the distance. Summer wouldn’t have taken him here unless there was a very good reason, he was sure, and so Prompto decided to continue trusting in the bird for now.
But then there were buildings in front of them, and a whole new wave of confusion and fear washed over him. This wasn’t any town he knew, that was for sure. It was huge, and the houses and storefronts were all beautiful, pristine white or solid black with what appeared to be gold paint detailing intricate patterns along each doorframe and windowsill. Wherever it was, everyone living here was sure to be filthy rich.
If there had been anyone there at all, that is.
There were no lights anywhere, despite it being almost pitch-dark outside now, and no signs of life anywhere, as if no one had lived here for a very long time. Then suddenly, he saw it.
The castle.
Towering far above everything else, it was an imposing dark structure with only the faintest glimmer of light shining by the entryway. Summer stopped at the base of the steps leading up to that light, and Prompto could only assume that this was where Cor must be. Why else would Summer take him here? He didn’t even know where “here” was.
Prompto slowly slid off the chocobo’s back, stretching out his stiff and tired legs as he shuffled up the stairs to the huge double doors, his cloak not doing much to protect him from the bitter cold wind beginning to pick up around him. A shiver ran down his spine, and not just from the cold.
The sooner he could get out of here, the better.
Sucking in a deep breath, Prompto creaked open one of the doors and stepped inside. If the light outside was anything to go by, he figured someone would be living here, and so he’d just ask them if they knew where Cor was, get him back and be on his way.
The last remnants of a fire were sputtering out in the foyer’s fireplace when he entered, popping softly as he shut the door behind him and walked several steps towards the staircase sweeping up from the centre of the room.
“Hello?” He called. “Is anyone here? Cor?”
“I’ve got a hunch, Iggy.”
“Not now, Gladio, we’ll be found.”
“I’m serious! What if he’s the one?”
“Gladio…”
“Come on, you’re thinking it too.”
“…”
“You know—“ “Hush, Gladiolus! He’s looking this way!”
Was he hearing things? Prompto was sure he’d just heard someone talking from over by the fireplace. He squinted through the darkness to see if there were any figures idling there, but he saw nothing besides what appeared to be a clock and a large candelabra. Shrugging to himself, Prompto decided to head up the stairs, eventually finding himself ascending a set of tightly-wound spiral stairs on his way up a tower.
“That was far too close.”
“The kid didn’t even see us.”
“He looked directly at us.”
“And what’d he see? Nothing but a dumb old clock and a handsome candelabra.”
“Why could you not have been transformed into something that stuck to a wall instead?”
“Probably so I can do this.”
“Wait, where do you think you’re going? Come back here!”
“Aren’t you interested in seeing what happens?”
“I am more interested in not being dismantled by an angry king!”
“He likes us too much for that.”
“I don’t want to test that theory.”
“Alright, you stay there then.”
“I—Gladio! Gladiolus, don’t—and he’s gone. Oh, I am going to regret this.”
He wasn’t sure how he’d come across it so quickly in such a large castle, but Prompto had stumbled upon some strange circular cell at the top of one of the staircases, and inside that cell, sitting slumped against the wall was…
“Cor!”
“Prompto?” Cor was immediately on his feet, grabbing at the bars of the door to steady himself and look closely at Prompto. “What are you doing here? How did you find this place?”
“Summer brought me, I thought you might’ve been dead.” Prompto explained, gripping onto the bars from his side.
Cor made a sound that could have been a laugh, were it not so forced. “Typical. But you shouldn’t have come. This is not a place for you.”
“It’s not a place for you, either!”
“Prompto, listen to me. You have to leave. Forget about me and get away from here. Go and live in Altissia or Tenebrae or anywhere else you want to go, you just have to leave.”
Prompto could feel the tears brimming in his eyes. “Don’t talk like that. I’m getting you out of here and you can come with me to Altissia.”
“Prompto…” Cor started.
“That won’t be an option.”
Prompto jumped back at the voice, glancing around wildly to see who had spoken. He saw nothing but shadows. Composing himself, he managed to snap back an answer. “Why not? He hasn’t done anything wrong!”
“Oh? Did he not tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Prompto looked back at Cor questioningly.
“This man betrayed a Lucian king because he feared death.” He still wasn’t sure where the owner of this voice was, but he could tell two things about them. The first was that it was a male’s voice, and the second was that he was coming closer to them with each passing second.
“That’s a bit of an overstatement, Your Majesty.” Cor growled.
Your Majesty? Lucian kings? Prompto’s head was spinning. What the hell was going on? Lucis didn’t have a king, they never had. Had they?
This apparent king had drawn even closer to them, and Prompto could now see the faint silhouette of the man standing in the shadows covering the next set of stairs.
“Is it?” He drawled. “Because my father always told me that you ran away and destroyed your allegiance with our family the moment you realised his ascension was coming. You were scared of what might have happened to you.” He took one step further down the stairs, and Prompto was sure he heard the clicking of claws on the stone as he moved.
“Do you want to know what would’ve happened?” The king continued. “You would have ended up just like my father and all of his friends—your friends. Clarus, Weskham, Cid…all of them are gone now, wandering the streets of Insomnia at night as those horrible daemons you were so scared of becoming.”
Cor seemed to be struck dumb, and Prompto wasn’t sure what to make of this anymore. He had no idea what the king was talking about, but he knew he didn’t want Cor to have to stay in this terrible place.
“Let me take his place.” Prompto spoke up after a beat of silence, ignoring Cor’s sudden exclamation of “No!” as he continued. “He did a wrong against your father, not you. Let him go, and keep me here instead.”
The king stepped forward again, halting just outside of the circle of light given off by the torch inside the cell. Prompto could see now that he hadn’t been mistaken in assuming that the clicks he’d heard before were claws—the king appeared to have bird-like talons in place of human feet, his legs jutting back the wrong way, as an eagle’s might.
What was he?
“You would truly take his place?” The king asked.
Cor was outright begging Prompto not to do it, to leave while he had the chance and let him face the consequences of what he’d done. Prompto ignored him.
“Yes.”
“Fine.” The king stepped into the light to yank on a lever next to the door of the cell, and Prompto’s eyes went wide.
He might have been strikingly beautiful, if not for the ways his face and body had been altered and distorted with the features of many different beasts. His eyes were somewhat catlike, the slitted pupils staring directly at him from amidst glowing pinkish-red irises, while dark, shimmering scales covered the area around his eyes like some sort of mask from forehead to cheekbones. A few more scales were spotted here and there along his jawline, too, while two large, twisting horns protruded from the top of his head.
When he pulled his lips back in an almost defensive snarl, his teeth were revealed to be pristine white and needle-sharp, looking capable of ripping out an animal’s throat with ease, and the hand still gripping the lever was covered in a layer of dark, soft-looking fur, with glinting claws occupying the space where a normal person’s fingernails should be.
Prompto had been right in his observation of the king’s legs and feet before, but what really caught him off-guard—mostly because he had no idea how he could have missed it, even in the dark—were the enormous black wings protruding from his back.
If he was being completely honest, Prompto would have described the king as looking like a harpy gone wrong. Very wrong.
The cell door swung open with the pulling of the lever, but Prompto had no time to say a proper farewell to Cor before the king had grabbed him and was dragging him away.
“I’ll show some kindness to you for your bravery.” The king said to Prompto over his shoulder as he started to descend the stairs, Cor trying to fight against him the whole way. “You may stay in a proper room rather than a cell. Gladio, Ignis, stop eavesdropping and show our guest to his room.”
“I assure you, Majesty, I was most certainly not eavesdropping!” Someone said from the stairwell. “I was only making sure Gladiolus wouldn’t!”
“And you did a great job of that, Iggy.” A much deeper, rougher voice said.
The king made a sound something between a huff and a growl in response, already halfway down the stairs now.
“I’ll come back for you, Prompto!” Cor yelled up to him. “I promise! You’ll be free again soon!”
Prompto wasn’t so sure it was going to be as easy as it sounded, but he was going to try and believe it for the time being anyway.
At least he’d saved Cor.