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He felt the fires, despite being out of the city. Despite learning of the destruction days after it had occurred.
Every quake a fallen building made, every scream that tore out of scrambling citizens.
The pull of magic.
The crystal crying. Wailing.
The burning power of the ring.
Noctis felt it all.
He had thought it was another dream. He had so many of those same dreams where the floor was ripped from under him, the sky-- the Wall-- rained above him, and the hands of his loved ones slipped away from him. Those dreams began when he woke up for the first time, after the attack. And they followed him now at twenty.
It made him toss and turn at night, brows furrowing, whimpers escaping gritted teeth. And it made the mornings just as hard. His muscles ached from the tension as he held all of his body close. His muscles and the sinews balled up towards his heart as if someone planned to rob him of his skin and bones, as if he tried to recreate Insomnia’s impenetrable Wall but just for himself.
Except, he discovered, the Wall wasn’t so impenetrable. And those terrors found their way into his dream that night.
An omen of sorts, it seemed. For when they arrived to the outskirts of the city-- his city-- those vivid dreams felt more like memories. They all stood in silence as the residual smoke from the wake disappeared into the gloomy skies. He felt the fires, the quakes, the destruction. He couldn't feel much else. The rain hid tears that escaped him.
They were all at a loss for words, relying on the little pieces of themselves that they were able to hold together to plan their next steps. Not knowing how to move on but knowing they just had to move on, they slowly slipped back into a realm of normalcy. Camping, cooking, car rides, and obeying Cor. The desire for vengeance sat at the back of all their minds, but not until they were all ready. Until Noctis was ready.
But for Noctis, vengeance was accompanied by hopelessness. And that burned through him far faster than the wick of vengeance.
It took over his mind when they were attacked by a pack of sabertusks. He swung, sloppily, missing one before he threw himself into another, leaving ethereal replicas of himself as he did so. He was being reckless, he knew, and he wanted to stop, to take a long rest. But he also knew he had to keep moving, keep fighting, or else his friends would be upset with him.
As the beasts attacked his misty forms, he threw himself again, and again, and again, until all the power and energy sapped right out of him, leaving him stranded before the alpha.
Noctis heaved, trying to hold himself up with his sword, clutching his chest with his other hand as it ached with something else besides the stasis he put himself in. The remaining sabertusk growled, drool dripping from its protruding teeth, rearing back ready to pounce.
Noct braced himself, not only for the incoming bite, but everything that followed. The worst thing, he thought, would be seeing his friends’ expressions as he faded away. Maybe they’d be mad. Maybe they’d be glad, even. He hoped, at the very least, Prompto would be sad. He’d try to apologize for that if his fleeting time would allow.
This is it, he thought. Here it comes.
A broadsword swung heavily down onto Noctis’ would-be liberator in a burst of crimson and the ache in his chest burst in relief before contracting in disappointment again, pulling him to the ground below. He didn’t see the point in staying awake much longer, so he let his eyelids fall.
He smelled the smoke. He heard the screams. He saw the King and the King’s shield impaled beneath the rubble of his home, blackened, rotting blood seeping from the holes where they should have eyes. More familiar faces flashed in his mind, but they all seemed so distant now, he couldn’t remember their names.
A flash of tattooed skin.
Cracking and burning away into ash.
A voice echoing “Rule well, young King.”
He woke up at that.
Noctis’ eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light that bled through the fabric of the tent. He held back a whimper smelling the smoke, from the campfire this time, as he let the chill evening air wake the rest of his body. He shifted out of the tent to the forced smiles of two of his friends.
“Hey, how ya feelin’?” Prompto asked first, knowing well to keep his distance as Ignis approached warily.
Noctis held up a hand and shook his head, stopping Ignis in his tracks. “Fine.” He sighed looking at Ignis’ disappointment. “A little hungry?” That would give him something to fuss over.
“Of course. Please make yourself comfortable, I’ll get you a bowl.”
“Where’s… Gladio?” Noctis pressed carefully. He already knew the answer.
“Out for a walk. That guy sure loves nature,” Prompto responded lightly, taking the seat next to Noct. He brushed his knuckles against Noctis’, dropping into a whisper. “You good, man?”
“Yeah,” Noctis started, taken aback at first, before trying to convince himself. “Yeah, no worries.” He shrugged and forced a smile before shying away from his blatant lie.
Prompto didn’t press, but he was there, casting his worried gaze to the fire instead. Noct appreciated that.
Ignis handed Noctis his bowl of oyakodon, still very warm. “Thanks, Specs,” Noct said quietly, getting lost in the steam rising from the bowl. He settled the bowl on his lap, unable to eat, but letting the warmth of the bowl prick at his palms. Ignis settled in the other chair near him. The three of them were nothing but forced smiles and awkward silences.
The sounds of footsteps echoed in the vast, emptiness as the chatter of wild animals dissipated with the coming darkness. Lit by the fire and the glow of the haven, Gladio grunted a single. “Hey,” climbing up onto the haven, looking a little haggard himself.
“Anything exciting out there?” Prompto broke the silence.
“Not much,” Gladio responded, his gaze falling onto Noctis as he fell onto the remaining chair. “Daemons probably showing up by now.”
Prompto hummed as a response before the sound of a clinking bowl startled him. Noctis had put his untouched bowl on the ground next to him.
“Thanks, Specs. That was delicious,” he stood, mechanically, his own voice strange to his ears. He looked at each of his friends then down to the fire. Balling his fists in frustration at his inability to just speak , he stammered, “I’m, um-”
He wanted to apologize but also show gratitude or explain himself or tell a lie that could cheer everyone up. He couldn’t prioritize which he wanted to say more, so he just gestured to the tent.
Gladio stood up, wanting to get a word in before Noctis retreated. Something was amiss, he knew, but he couldn’t mend a broken bone without identifying where the break lay.
“What was that out there, huh?” Gladio raised his palms, but kept his voice low, calm even. But everyone heard the tension in his voice.
“Gladio, don’t--” Ignis sighed.
“No, no,” Gladio interrupted, doing his best to keep his voice gentle, but failing and letting frustration shake his tone. “I’m just trying to get some answers.”
Prompto held placating palms forward. “I think we’re all just having a rough day. Right?”
“Huh?” Noctis couldn’t keep up. There were too many voices. He wasn’t sure where he was, even. He felt like he was floating, until Gladio made his way to him and grabbed his arm to keep his attention. Noctis didn’t mean to flinch as violently as he did, but that made Gladio pull away fast.
“I’m just-- I--” Noctis stuttered, holding where Gladio had held. It didn’t hurt, but he felt as if he was coming undone. What hurt more was seeing Gladio’s concerned expression twist into something else. Pain or frustration, Noctis couldn’t tell. He still felt like he was floating away from his body.
“Gladio, now’s not the time,” Ignis raised his voice, putting his body between Gladio and Noct.
Peeking over Ignis’ shoulder, Gladio kept his eyes on Noctis. “Something’s not right. Are you trying to get yourself killed or something?”
Noctis’ eyes shot up, looking to Gladio with wide, pleading eyes. His breathing hastened and he choked back a noise unable to refute that claim and his expression shifted into something pained and fearful.
Gladio's eyes grew wide. He sensed it from the start, but the silent confirmation made him unable to help himself from uttering a pitiful "Noct…"
No one dared to move. One inch and the whole world threatened to shatter.
Gladio closed his eyes, inhaling deep to compose himself, and failing to do so. "Listen, Noct, it's my duty-- our duty to protect--"
That brought out a sob from Noctis. He took a step forward, arms still curled around himself, shoulders heavy, straining to keep his head up enough to meet their eyes.
"Protect who? Exactly?" Noctis managed to shout, eyes glistening like the starry night above with unshed tears bottling up. "The Prince? The future King? Insominia is gone .”
He was suffocating.
“No kingdom, no prince. And we all know I was barely that before home became a pile of ash and rubble."
"Noct, please don't say that," Prompto twisted his fingers between his hands, the pain of losing everything too much to bear. But his hands remained clasped in secret prayer that the remaining things in his life-- his friends-- wouldn’t collapse like their home.
"What duty do you all have when it's all gone?" he laughed. "If there's no kingdom, there's no king. If there's no king... looks like you're out of the job, doesn't it?" Noctis’ smile was as malicious as it was anguished.
"Noctis, what are you-" Prompto didn’t mean to whimper.
"You're all dismissed from your ' duties .’” Noctis finally collapsed to his knees, face buried in his hands, trying and failing to hold back the pathetic whines escaping his throat and the tears pouring from his face. “Isn't that what you've wanted to hear all these years?!" Another cry ripped from his throat.
Gladio knelt beside him first, a careful hand outstretched before pulling him into a hug.
“It could have been over!” Noctis whined against Gladio’s skin, weakly hitting him in the chest before trying to pull away. “You should have just let me--” another cry ripped from him before he could finish his thought.
Gladio only embraced him tighter, tears of his own spilling. “Godsdammit, Noct,” he hissed against his hair. “You really think we would be happier?”
“Oh, Noct,” Prompto held his fist to his mouth, trying to stop tears of his own.
Ignis shut his eyes, speechless, turning his head away full of shame. His own heart was heavy with the events that occurred and now with the pain of realizing how much his dearest friend had suffered in silence. None of them were given the chance to mourn let alone figure out how to cope. And they all knew how much Noctis struggled before leaving Insomnia, it was no surprise he had broken down first.
It was loud, raw, and heartbreaking, but eventually Noctis’ cries tired him out. He leaned against Gladio’s embrace, dull eyed and sniveling. His eyes were red and still wet. Gladio started to rub Noctis’ back.
“You should have just left me,” Noctis repeated, voice broken, eyes unfocused. “How many times…” his voice faded.
Everyone knew Noct had begun thinking about the first attempt on his life, then the second, and-- they lost count, but Noctis hadn’t.
“How many more…because of me?” Noctis asked no one in particular.
Ignis snapped his head up. “None of this is your fault, Noct.”
“Y-yeah!” Prompto nearly shouted. “All those other times, too. It’s the Empire, isn’t it?” Prompto clutched his right wrist and bit his lips. “They’re the ones that did this.”
“Right. And they’re the ones who are going to pay,” Gladio breathed into Noctis’ hair, voice low enough for them all to hear, but to remind Noctis that he wasn’t upset with him. “We just gotta listen to Cor, find what we need to find, and get ready to retaliate.”
“We?” Noctis muttered weakly, sleep taking him.
“We’re not abandoning you, Your Highness .” Ignis moved to help Gladio lift Noctis into his arms and towards the tent. “We’re your friends after all.”
“My friends…” Noctis let sleep take him then. Gladio had placed Noctis back into the tent and they all retired for the night.
Noctis dreamt of fields of bright blue sylleblossoms glistening in a crystalline fog. A white dress, his bride to be? And her smile gracing a rich city built over flowing water like a halo of waterfalls.
A flood.
A splash of red.
And crimson hair.