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Summary
“Gladiolus,” Ignis said, a strange waver to his tone like a man cast adrift, and Gladio froze.
For a long moment he assumed that he were abed dreaming or collapsed upon the floor experiencing some hallucination. A rush of warmth was replaced by a chill that claimed his belly and suddenly the room seemed smaller, colder, and Gladio could no longer breathe so easily. It couldn’t be, his mind told him. Not after everything.
(shortly after the death of the king, his shield flees the city in grief. but life has a habit of catching up in the end.)