Chapter Text

The Path To Freedom

An Unexpected Rescue

M.E. 744 – Fenestala Manor, Tenebrae

Noctis did not understand.

In one moment, he and his father had been talking to Luna, her brother Ravus and their mother Sylva in the blooming gardens of Fenestala Manor, and in the next, metal men dropped out of the sky and roaring flames erupted around them. Regis hastily lifted his eight-year-old son out of the wheelchair, took Luna by the hand and fled with them towards the open door of the manor.

Noctis held fast on to his father, not knowing, but feeling, the mortal danger they were in. The terrified scream of Luna’s usually so steadfast brother let the blood in Noctis’ veins run cold. Icy claws dug deep into his heart. Fear subdued all conscious thought. Frozen in shock, he could only cling to his father with all the strength his injured body could muster, and hope that Regis would save them somehow.

They had not yet reached the manor when Luna suddenly let go of his father’s hand. Past Regis’ shoulder, Noctis watched helplessly as she stopped running and fell behind. With eyes full of regret, Luna just stared back at him. Upon noticing her disappearance, Regis briefly turned around, but ultimately kept on running.

Metal soldiers of the Imperial army, armed with rifles, ragged blades and axes, emerged from the smoke and flames that rapidly consumed the garden. They ran straight past Luna. One bumped into her by accident, but they were only interested in chasing after the King and his son. All too quickly, the twelve-year-old girl disappeared among the growing number of infantrymen.

Fear and confusion overwhelmed Noctis. His body cramped up. He pressed his head into Regis’ suit until he could see no more, only hear his father’s strained breath, his footsteps echoing through the hallways of the manor and the terrifying rattle of metal armour behind them. An explosion in the distance shook the building. Regis rounded a corner and slowed his steps. He turned both ways, seemingly looking for an escape route, but the sounds of the soldiers were rapidly growing louder. Instead of fleeing, Regis sat Noctis down on the floor, yet his son’s hands were still clutching his clothes. Noctis did not dare to open his eyes.

„I have to fight off our pursuers,“ Regis said, sounding firm and collected. „Please, Noctis. I cannot carry you and fight at the same time. It will only take a moment, I promise.“

Carefully, but determined, Regis pried Noctis’ hands open. When Noctis risked a glance into his father’s face, he saw concern in Regis’ eyes. Their lives depended on his ability to fight. Even so, Noctis was afraid to be left alone on the floor, helpless and vulnerable as he was. Despite of the healing sessions with Luna’s mother, he had not yet recovered enough from his injury to walk again on his own. He reached out for his father as Regis turned back to face the Imperial soldiers. In a flash of magic, a silver sword appeared in Regis’ hand.

Noctis’ attempt to stand up was thwarted by his back injury. Pain shot through his body and his legs gave way. Wincing, he slumped back to the floor. Tears rose to his eyes. Through his watery view, he watched his father fell one of their pursuers after another with swift and precise strikes of his blade. Inwardly, Noctis prayed and hoped that they would make it out of the manor alive.

Another crash from outside, and another tremor ran through the building. The thunderous rumble that followed forced to Noctis look up. Cracks formed in the ceiling above him.

Without further warning, stones came loose.

Overcome by panic, Noctis screamed for his father. He desperately tried to crawl away. In a last and rather hopeless attempt to protect himself, Noctis threw his arms over his head. The crashing and rumbling of the stones around him was deafening. The dust that filled the air stung in his lungs and eyes, making him cough. Once the noise subsided, it took Noctis several seconds to regain his bearings. Fortunately, the collapsed ceiling had missed him, but a mountain of rubble separated him from his father.

„Noctis!“ Regis’ shout barely reached through the debris. „Noct, are you alright? Are you hurt?“

„Dad!“ Noctis called back, but ended up breathing in more dust, which triggered another coughing fit.

„Stay where you are. I’m coming to you!“

His father’s hasty footsteps quickly moved away, leaving behind an eerie silence, save for the sounds of Noctis’ own, ragged breaths and the frantic pounding of his heart. With difficulty, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and slowly crawled away from the pile of rubble.

At the end of the corridor, behind the dust that hung in the air like a veil, the silhouette of a man holding a sword appeared. Noctis’ breath hitched. His muscles tensed. Panic clutched his heart once more. This man could not be his father. Regis could not have been that fast.

The sword in the stranger’s hand vanished with a red flash. „Silly old me,“ an unfamiliar voice rang out, „I must have mistaken you for one of those dreadful soldiers.“

The dust settled slowly. As the man walked up to him, Noctis tried hard to figure out which nation he hailed from. He did not look like an Imperial commander, not like a servant to House Fleuret, and not like a member of the Royal Crownsguard in service to Regis, either. Noctis eyed the stranger warily, uncertain of whether he was facing a foe or a friend, though he was hoping for the latter. The stranger looked … eccentric. Noctis did not know exactly what the word meant, but he was sure his father would have used it to describe the man’s clothes. The stranger was wearing a dark grey, ankle-length coat, a white shirt, a dark vest and pin-striped trousers. A grey scarf was slung around his shoulders, a bold red neckerchief wrapped around his neck, and a black hat sat slightly askew on his head. All in all; too many clothes for an ordinary person.

„Who … Who are you?“ Noctis coughed out.

„Just a man desperately trying to make a change,“ the stranger replied with a smug smile.

The man stepped even closer, and Noctis struggled to stand again. Just as before, he fell back to the ground in pain. The stranger sank to a knee in front of him. His peculiarly bright eyes appeared kind, but equally tired. Noctis saw the same tiredness in the eyes of his father, not daily, but increasingly often.

„Now, now. Don’t be afraid. It would not behove me to leave the Prince of Lucis lying amidst all this rubble, would it? Here, allow me to reunite you with your dear father. The poor man must be worried sick.“ Without hesitation, he lifted Noctis into his arms and stood up.

Although he provoked the wound on Noctis’ back by accident, Noctis gritted his teeth and did not resist. Being carried was still better than not being able to move at all, and he sensed no hostility from the stranger.

„How light you are!“ The man chuckled. „What do they feed you at the Citadel?“

Noctis did not feel like talking. Especially not about home. Nothing seemed more distant than home at that moment, without his father, without Iggy, even without Luna. Why did she choose to stay behind? Why did she not come with them? What would the Empire do with her? Tears came to his eyes again and Noctis clutched the stranger’s scarf. There was something comforting about the many layers of clothing he wore.

„Well then. There ought to be a corridor just like this one on the other side of the building. I may assume that His Majesty is heading there this very instant.“ With Noctis in his arms, the stranger walked out of the corridor and deeper into the manor. He moved in long, swaying strides, very leisurely, and quite unlike Regis. At least, he seemed to know where he was going.

Noctis wiped a tear from his eye and looked around. It was still unusually quiet around them. His fear slowly subsided – until the rattle of metal armour resounded through the hall they were crossing. The stranger turned towards the source of the sound and Noctis saw three axemen running towards them.

„Look, I do not mind the escort, but why do you …?“

Noctis’ fingers tightened around the man’s scarf. „Don’t leave me behind,“ he pleaded.

The stranger glanced at him. „Oh, but of course. They are after you.“

The nearest of the axemen lunged at them with his weapon raised, but Noctis’ self-appointed saviour caught the metal soldier mid-air with a kick and sent it clattering to the ground.

„Hold on tight!“ He pressed Noctis to his chest and dodged another infantryman’s blow with a gallant twist.

In the midst of battle, Noctis caught a glimpse of some kind of dark shockwave shooting out from the stranger’s hand. A fraction of a second later, their pursuers fell to the ground like puppets whose strings had been cut.

Baffled, Noctis stared at the motionless metal men. „How …?“ was all he managed to say.

„You’ll find that your father is not the only one who wields magic.“

„You have magic?“

The stranger looked at Noctis with a smug expression. „Mere parlour tricks compared to what your father can do, of course. Now then, let’s not dawdle any longer, shall we?“

He finally approached the passageway in the back of the hall that led into the parallel corridor. The clacking of heels on marble, not the rattle of metal boots, grew quickly closer. Another human being approached them.

Noctis’ rescuer stopped abruptly. A strange flicker surrounded him for a second, before he strode purposefully around the corner into the corridor.

King Regis came running towards them. The worry etched into his features gave way to pure relief as his eyes fell on his son.

„Dad!“ Noctis shouted.

„Noctis!“ Regis hurried to take his son from the stranger’s arms. „Forgive me. I should have never let you go.“ For a moment, he held Noctis in a tight embrace and touched his forehead with his own. With a sigh of great relief, he turned to his son’s saviour. „You have my sincerest thanks. If you will tell me your name, then I …“

His voice trailed off, and when Noctis turned his head, the man who had saved him had disappeared as if he had been nothing but a phantom within a daydream.

Chapter Text

M.E. 756 – The Citadel, Insomnia

It was late afternoon when Noctis and his three-man entourage left the Citadel to begin their journey to Altissia. He exchanged a few last words with his father on top of the stairs that led down from the entrance of the tall building to the courtyard. His father: the very same man who had once been a proud king and capable fighter, now reduced to a tired, old man, grey-haired and scarred, and leaning on a cane for support. Years of sacrificing his own strength and life force had caused him to age prematurely, and all of this, only to keep the Niflheim Empire from taking over their home, the Crown City of Insomnia.

The war had been going on for longer than anyone could remember. Over the past hundreds of years, the territory of the Kingdom of Lucis had dwindled, and all that still stood between Niflheim and world domination was the Crown City, and the Crystal within the Citadel. Legends told that the Sacred Stone had been a gift from the gods, and to this day, its magic empowered the bloodline of kings to protect their people.

However, according to an envoy from Niflheim, times were about to change. The Empire, too, had finally become weary of the never-ending war, and offered to compromise in the form of a peace treaty with some very unilateral conditions attached. One such condition demanded Noctis to be wed to Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Oracle, Princess of Tenebrae, and the childhood friend he had not seen in person ever since his escape from the burning Fenestala Manor. The wedding was set to take place across the sea, in Altissia, one of the most beautiful cities in all of Eos, and the next closest thing to neutral ground as could be found between Niflheim and Lucis.

„Remember your manners in the presence of your bride-to-be,“ King Regis said, looking at Noctis with fatherly worry, though Noctis felt no need for concern.

„You too, Your Majesty,“ he replied, bowing in jest before his father. „Remember yours when our honoured guests from Niflheim arrive.“

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his high school friend Prompto bow as well. For the umpteenth time, probably. Funny to think he would be so nervous in front of Regis when he could be so relaxed around Noctis. But Gladio and Ignis were tense, too, in a way. Not because of Regis, however. From being Noctis’ Shield and advisor, they had interacted with the king often enough to have practised their manners and form of address. Still, none of them had ever travelled beyond Insomnia’s Wall, and the wedding – political arrangement or not – was going to be the biggest event in Noctis’ life yet.

Regis’ gaze shifted from Noctis to the Regalia far below at the foot of the stairs, and his expression turned into a frown. The limousine had not seen much use in the past years, but it had always been Regis’ favourite. Noctis imagined he might be a bit worried that his son returned it in one piece.

„You know that I reluctantly agreed to the escort from Niflheim. Try to bear with him, for as long as you must.“

It was only then that Noctis realised he was referring to the man next to the Regalia. Out of the corner of his eye, Noctis had merely noticed some Niff dressed in a white robe.

„Don’t worry, I will,“ he replied to Regis.

The stranger had to be one of the Emperor’s advisors or personal pencil pushers, for sure. He would be an annoyance, but nothing to worry about. If it came to a scuffle, the odds would be four to one, and they all had proper training in combat.

Waving goodbye, Noctis turned away from his old man and began the rather long descent down the staircase. When he raised his gaze from the steps to their car and the stranger next to it, the air shimmered like it did on a hot summer day. It was warm, but not that warm. Or so Noctis had thought. The white-robed figure he had seen earlier faded away along with the trick of the light and in its place appeared a man wearing dark, eccentric clothing, the likes of which Noctis had only seen once before. He stopped abruptly, and a moment later, Ignis did, too. He was always quick to notice if something was off.

„Noct? Is something the matter?“

„I know this man,“ Noctis explained. „He saved me back in Tenebrae.“ He glanced up the staircase, but Regis had already turned back and disappeared into the Citadel. The stranger had been standing face to face with him back then. Why had Regis not mentioned that he would be the escort?

„Are you sure?“ Ignis asked. „I remember your father telling me that a servant of Lunafreya’s had brought you to him.“

„It was him,“ Noctis confirmed. „No doubt ’bout it.“

In the meantime, Prompto had noticed their conversation and was waiting for them a few steps further down the stairs. „Admittedly, he doesn’t seem like someone you’d easily forget,“ he said.

„Gotta agree on that.“ Gladio said, not bothering to keep his voice down. „His clothes are a real eyesore.“

The fancy dressed stranger took off his fedora and bowed with a flourish. „What a pleasure to make your acquaintance! It is a great honour for an insignificant, small politician such as myself to be recognized by the Crown Prince of Lucis.“

Ignis adjusted his glasses and continued his way to the Regalia at Noctis’ side. „I would hardly call him insignificant. He is, after all, the Chancellor of Niflheim.“

„Woah! Are you serious?“ Prompto exclaimed. „He doesn’t look like a chancellor to me.“

„I admit that few know his face. He is suspiciously absent from the media. I only saw him once in the Citadel when he came to present the treaty to King Regis.“

„Please, allow me to introduce myself,“ said chancellor intervened. „Ardyn Izunia, at your service. You may call me Ardyn if you like. Since we are going to be stuck together for a while, you may as well skip the formalities.“

„I’ll gladly stick with Chancellor Izunia.“ Gladio replied, strategically positioning himself between Ardyn and the others, but the Chancellor remained unfazed.

„Please, suit yourself,“ he replied and turned towards the prince. „By the way, it is heartbreaking to see the great King Regis in such a weakened state. This magic of old he uses has truly taken a toll on him. Fortunately, thanks to the peace treaty, he will not need to suffer for much longer.“

Noctis did not like to talk about Regis’ frailty, especially not to strangers. It reminded him of how maintaining the magical Wall around Insomnia brought his father closer to death every day. Compared to his childhood father, Regis was a shadow of his former self now, and Noctis hated it. He could not deal with it. And thus, he avoided the subject.

„You haven’t changed at all since then,“ he said to Ardyn.

„What do you want me to say? I am timeless.“ The Chancellor turned to the black luxury limousine behind him. „As is your vehicle. Although I wonder if there will be room for all of us.“

„I will be driving,“ Ignis declared as he strode to the driver’s side.

Noctis opened one of the back doors. „There’s enough room for three in the back.“

„Easy for you to say,“ Gladio interjected.

„But we can’t have the Prince of Lucis crammed into the back seat, now, can we?“

Noctis passed over Ardyn’s objection. This entire goodbye was already taking far too long. Mildly annoyed, he got in the car. „Guys, don’t make a fuss about this, ’kay? I’ll sit in the back. The Chancellor can have the passenger seat. Let’s get going already.“

„If you insist,“ Ardyn replied.

Prompto slid from the other side of the car to the middle of the back seat, and Gladio had to take the remaining space whether he liked it or not. A tension emanated from the two of them that almost felt palpable. Prompto’s nervousness might be unjustified, but Gladio’s mistrust was not. In purely factual terms, they were in the presence of an enemy. Nevertheless, Noctis remembered, for the first time in many years, how this enemy, the Chancellor of Niflheim, had protected him from the magitek infantry of the Empire and brought him back to Regis.

Ignis had barely manoeuvred the Regalia out of the Citadel’s courtyard when Noctis had to ask about it. „Why’d you do it?“

„Excuse me?“ Ardyn replied in surprise.

„Why’d you save me, even though you work for Niflheim?“

„Oh, that.“ The Chancellor placed his hat on the dashboard and ran a hand through his messy, oddly magenta coloured mane. „Even in my position, I do not have to approve of everything Niflheim does. You should be aware that I still make my own decisions. I suppose, the best way to describe my relationship with the Empire is that I owe them a favour or three.“

„Those must be pretty big favours,“ Prompto remarked.

„Indeed, they are.“

Noctis could describe the atmosphere with Ardyn in the car as awkward at best. Due to the fact that they had set off relatively late, the sun soon sank towards the horizon. They had passed about half the distance between the gates of Insomnia and the first outpost when the evening twilight became visible in the sky. It was looking increasingly unlikely that they would make it to the coast without spending the night at Hammerhead or Longwythe Rest, and it was also about that time that the Regalia began to run rough.

„What’s wrong, Iggy?“ Gladio asked.

„The engine cuts out every so often. I’d recommend we stop at the garage in Hammerhead.“

Prompto leaned forward. „You mean if we get there?“

„Did you know that I own an old convertible myself?“ Ardyn mentioned casually. „I’ve had her for a very long time, but she never let me down. A truly reliable thing.“

„So was the Regalia before you got in,“ Gladio retorted. „Why didn’t you bring your car?“

„And would have given you the opportunity to outrun me? I don’t think so.“

Suddenly the steady hum of the engine died and the acceleration broke away.

„The way things are, we’re not outrunning anyone,“ Ignis said. He steered the Regalia to the side of the road to let it slowly roll out. Hammerhead laid in the far distance, barely getting closer even on the last few metres. They had little other choice but to get out.

Noctis looked towards the setting sun as he closed the door of the Regalia behind him. The surrounding wasteland of Leide was deserted. As soon as night fell, they would become easy victims for daemons on the open road. „What’s the plan, Ignis?“ he asked.

„Give me a moment to call a tow truck.“ Ignis pulled out his smart phone. „No signal.“

Noctis’ gaze drifted to a toppled power pole nearby. „No wonder,“ he added.

„Hammerhead is not too far away from here,“ Ignis continued. „We could push the Regalia to the garage.“

„Or,“ Prompto interjected, „we could hitch a ride.“

Ardyn leaned against the side of the car, chuckling. „Do you honestly wish to trust in the kindness of strangers?“

„No harm in trying, is there?“

Ignis turned from the outpost in the distance to the flattened crest of a nearby hill marked with circular runes. „Given that it’s already evening, we might as well spend the night in that haven over there, then push the Regalia towards Hammerhead tomorrow. If we find reception again before then, towing would obviously still be an option.“

Prompto paced up and down the road with his smart phone in hand, looking for a signal, but without success.

„Camping sounds good to me,“ Gladio concluded with a smile.

Camping. Of course, it had to be camping. Noct’s back would thank him for it the next morning. The ancient runes etched into the rocky ground of a haven offered great protection against daemons, but did nothing to protect them from rain or the cold of the night. Daemons were something people at Insomnia never had to worry about, not with the magical Wall and well-lit streets keeping the horrors of the night at bay.

Prompto stared at Gladio, looking slightly startled. „Camping? With the Chancellor?“

„Any objections?“ Ignis addressed Ardyn.

„To be honest, I’d prefer to stay with the car. I do not dig camping, as you young people say.“

Noctis decided then and there that people of his father’s age should not use such expressions. Embarrassing did not even begin to describe it. It took him a moment to get his mind back on their conversation. „You do realise that the car offers you little protection from daemons?“ he asked, but Ardyn looked unconcerned.

„I am very much aware of that.“

„Ignis, leave him the keys.“

Noctis did not have to explain to his advisor why. With a nod, Ignis signalled his agreement and dropped the car keys into Ardyn’s palm. „I advise turning on the headlights only in an emergency. Without a running engine, the battery will not last long.“

„Do not worry. The daemons shall hardly notice me,“ Ardyn promised, still looking smug.

Gladio was already walking ahead to the haven. With some distance Ignis, Prompto and Noctis followed him. However, Noctis stopped once more to look back to the Chancellor. Knowing that he was willingly exposing himself to the dangers of the night left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

„What are you waiting for, Noct?“ Gladio called out to him. „He is a Niff. If he wants to spend the night among daemons, let him.“

So Noctis let him.

He fetched Gladio’s camping gear from the armiger, and the four of them had tent and chairs set up in no time. Just as much as the sun had burned down on the Regalia during the day, it was as cold during the cloudless nights in Leide. Yet around the campfire the cold could be endured. Ignis roasted a few slices of bread for them, and Prompto examined the few photos he had taken during the day.

„So, what do you think?“ he eventually asked the other members of their party. „About the Chancellor, I mean? I dunno about you, but he gives me the creeps every time he looks at me.“

„This guy is off-the-charts suspicious. I’m not letting him out of my sight anytime soon,“ Gladio replied.

„Strictly speaking, he has given us no reason to suspect him so far,“ Ignis argued. „He may be accompanying us on behalf of Niflheim, but he has also helped Noctis in the past. We should not forget that.“

„He is the Chancellor of Niflheim,“ Gladio argued. „That’s more than suspicious enough.“

„I agree with Iggy,“ Noctis said after a moment of silence. „Let’s give him a chance.“

„Oh man …“ Prompto groaned and slumped back in his chair. „I have a feeling this is going to be a very looong trip to Altissia.“

Noctis turned in his camping chair and looked down the hill to the road where the Regalia was still parked somewhat precariously. In the dim light of the stars, he spotted Ardyn, hat and coat removed, leaning against the passenger door and staring up at the sky, lost in thought.

Chapter Text

After what felt like a kilometre of pushing – ok, maybe 50 metres for real – Noctis seriously considered asking Ardyn to have the Imperial military pick them up. Ignis had found reception again, but the phone at Hammerhead was busy at all times, by now at least 30 cars – ok, more like 5 – had passed them without even looking, and the sun was burning down relentlessly as they struggled to push their luxury vehicle forward.

The asphalt shimmered like water in the distance. It was so hot that Noctis had discarded his jacket into his armiger half an hour ago. He could have put it in the Regalia’s trunk, of course, but why should he bother when he had a personal, infinitely large, and, not to mention, magical, fold in space available at all times?

„How come the Chancellor hasn’t had a heat stroke under all those clothes?“ Prompto asked, panting as he braced himself against the windshield frame and passenger door. „Just looking at him makes me dizzy!“

„Then don’t look,“ Ignis replied matter-of-factly from behind the steering wheel.

„Less talking, more pushing!“ Gladio reminded them from the back of the car. Honestly, he was doing most of the hard work. None of them could measure up to Gladio’s raw strength.

„Believe me, dear Prompto, I’d rather endure a heat stroke than expose myself to the sun,“ Ardyn replied. Neither Noctis’ pleas, nor Ignis’ diplomacy, Prompto’s groans or Gladio’s threats of violence had been able to persuade him to help them push the car. At a safe distance from Gladio and his greatsword, the Chancellor ambled along behind the Regalia. „How about a break, actually?“

„From what?“ Gladio replied angrily. „You’re not even helping.“

„Of course I am helping. If it wasn’t for me, someone might have run into us.“

„Someone can run him over for all I care.“

„We only rested five minutes ago,“ Ignis remarked.

„Really?“ Prompto whined. „Feels like an eternity!“

On the driver’s side, Noctis fared no better than his companions. He was sweaty. He was sticky. His palms were so hot they were almost burning. His arms and legs ached from the strain. Hell, even the Regalia’s black coating reflected the heat.

„Hey Iggy, isn’t it my turn yet?“

„I know of no turns.“

„C’mon, don’t be like that!“

The quiet, repetitive melody coming from the phone on Ignis’ ear suddenly broke off, and was replaced by a low hum in regular intervals. „It’s ringing,“ Ignis stated. A moment later, Noctis heard a person’s voice through the phone, though he could not understand what they were saying. „Hello?“ Iggy replied. „We need a tow. We’re currently some kilometres away from Hammerhead into the direction of Insomnia.“

Prompto let go of the Regalia to pump his fists in the air. „We’re saved! Finally saved!“

Fortunately, it was not long before the tow truck arrived, thanks in part to their hard work of pushing the Regalia as far as they had. A bright yellow truck with a hammerhead shark emblem pulled up to the side of the road and the driver’s side window rolled down to reveal a blonde, young woman behind the steering wheel. There were smudges of oil and dirt on her face, no doubt from working at the garage.

„Hey y’all!“ she greeted the five of them. „Heard yer needin’ a tow!“

„That’s right,“ Noctis said and got up from the dusty, red earth besides the road, where he and Prompto had been sitting to recover from their ordeal and to, well, just not die in Leide’s heat in general.

The woman stepped out of the truck, adjusted her cap and smiled at Noctis. „Ah, you must be the prince paw-paw mentioned.“

„And you are?“ Gladio asked.

„I’m Cindy, Cid’s grease-monkey granddaughter.“ She walked over to the back of her truck and nodded into the Regalia’s direction. „Care to lend me a hand, yer Highness?“

Gladio went ahead, waving for the rest of them to follow. „C’mon now, we’re almost there.“

Groaning, Noctis got back to pushing the car, and so did everyone else. With the exception of the Chancellor, of course. When Cindy had finally secured the Regalia on the back of the truck, she removed her cap, wiped the sweat from her brow and shook her head. „Have you actually seen the state she’s in?“ she said regarding the car. „Paw-paw’s not gonna like this.“

By the time they had arrived at Hammerhead and were done unloading the Regalia from the tow truck in front of the garage, Cid walked up to them. He was a scrawny old man wearing a dull red leather jacket and a matching cap, and moved with a hand pressed to his back.

„There y’are. Took yer sweet time gettin’ ’ere.“

His voice sounded rough, worn out with age, but even Noctis could tell by his tone that he was not too happy to see them or the Regalia. From what his father had told him, Noctis knew that Cid had been a friend to his family a long time ago, even before he had been born. Something had come between Regis and Cid, however, and they had not talked or seen each other in years. Yet despite of whatever had set them apart, Regis had advised Noctis before his departure to seek Cid’s aid if they found themselves in need of repairs.

The old mechanic’s first proper look passed over the Regalia. „I see you haven’t been treatin’ her right. She’s not some beat-up ol’ clunker, y’know?“ He turned his attention from the car to Noctis standing beside it and scoffed. „Prince, huh.“

„Uh, yeah. What about it?“

Cid shook his head. „Prince,“ he repeated. „Like they took yer old man and kicked the dignity outta him.“

„What?“ Noctis uttered, taken aback by the insult.

Ardyn, who had kept to the background until then, chuckled.

„You still gotta lot of growin’ up to do, son.“ Cid continued to walk around the Regalia, checking this and that, but not sparing any of them another glance. „She’s gonna take a while, alright. Best make yerselves useful and roll ’er in. And while yer waitin’, do yerselves a favor ’n get rid of that escort or whatever he calls ’imself. I could smell that Niff rat a mile away.“

Ardyn audibly gasped. „Excuse me?“

At the sight of his perplexed expression, Noctis could not help but bark out a laugh.

Cid stopped and turned back to give the Chancellor a hard look. „Ya ’eard me.“

In response, Ardyn put his hands on his hips. „It appears to me you ought to treat your customers with more respect.“

„This’s my garage an’ my customers’re gettin’ the respect they deserve,“ Cid replied and continued to walk off. „Ye should be lucky ’m havin’ a good day.“

„Ha. Turned it right back at ya,“ Noctis said to Ardyn, smirking.

The usual smug expression had melted off the Chancellor’s face. „Clearly, the man must be mistaking me for someone else.“

„Oh, he doesn’t,“ Gladio said.

„Well, y’all heard paw-paw,“ Cindy chimed in. „Right this way, please!“

With one last effort, they pushed the Regalia into the garage, then set off to see what little Hammerhead had to offer. Apart from the garage, there was a weapon salesman offering swords and spears out of the back of his truck, a petrol station with a shop for general goods, a diner and a caravan for rent. Only Ignis stuck around the garage to handle the matter of the repair costs.

Yep, boring old finances.

Or so Noctis had thought until he and Prompto discovered that the local shop did not accept their Crown City pocket money. As it turned out, they used a currency called „gil” in Leide and most other parts of the world. Noctis had known that, of course. It had simply slipped his mind. Good thing Iggy always kept such things in mind for him. When they met up in front of the petrol station, Ignis was talking to the Chancellor.

„I have a feeling it might be best not to tell him where it’s from,“ Ardyn said.

„Agreed.“

Noctis had no idea what they were talking about, but it just so happened that Gladio joined them at that moment.

„What’s going on over here?“ he asked.

„Cid’s cost estimate was … not very pleasing,“ Ignis admitted. „The costs for the tow truck alone swallowed a third of our travel funds.“

Prompto looked slightly confused. „That’s a lot, right?“

„Indeed, it is. I’m afraid we have to thank the Chancellor for footing our bill or else we would be flat broke by now.“

„Flat broke and broken down,“ Prompto added.

„Great, now we owe him money,“ Gladio complained, glaring at Ardyn.

„Not at all,“ the Chancellor replied and shrugged. „If I hadn’t spent the money on you, I might have used it to fund another hat collection, and I think we can all agree that your venture is the more worthwhile investment. Nonetheless, it would be good if we didn’t break down more often. Otherwise, my savings will be exhausted as quickly as yours.“

„As for our savings …“ Ignis continued. „It wouldn’t be a bad idea to earn us some extra money while Cid takes care of the car.“

„Let’s ask the local tipster for hunts,“ Gladio suggested. „There are problems with monsters of some kind everywhere, and the jobs usually pay well.“

Noctis could think of more fun activities than to keep walking through Leide’s wasteland in the heat. „How much money have we left?“ he asked his advisor.

„Enough for room and board,“ Ignis replied. „But not enough to pay for the ferry to Accordo on top of that.“

„No slacking, your Highness,“ Gladio teased Noctis. „We must pass the time somehow. Might as well do something for the people.“

„I’ve never been any good at waiting around,“ Prompto said.

„Me neither,“ Noctis admitted.

„There was a report in the newspaper at the shop mentioning an aggressive Dualhorn that’s causing problems not too far from here,“ Ignis informed them.

For some reason, Ardyn looked most disappointed to hear that. „A Dualhorn, is that all?“

„What kind of monster would you prefer?“ Gladio asked. „Last time I checked you were a politician, not a professional hunter.“

„But I, too, know how to handle a sword.“ The Chancellor chuckled darkly. „What’s the meanest, deadliest creature around these parts?“

Prompto took a step back. „Now it’s official: the Chancellor wants to kill us.“

Gladio glared at Ardyn. „You’ll have to try harder if you want us to fall for that trap.“

„Ah, but I was merely looking for a bit of excitement. Perhaps the next time, then?“

Vague memories of a fight between Ardyn and three magitek soldiers entered Noctis’ mind. „Didn’t you say you knew magic?“

„Oh yes, but no such magic as yours.“

„What kind of magic then?“

„You know; card tricks. Pulling moogles out of hats.“

„Not buying it.“

Ardyn laughed. „I can’t let you in on every secret of the Empire, now, can I?“

As usual, it was Ignis who brought their conversation back on track. „So, what about that Dualhorn?“

„I say, let’s do it,“ Gladio replied and directed his attention back at Ardyn. „Do you wanna join or not, Mr. I-can-handle-a-sword?“

Ardyn waved it off. „I’ll pass. To lure me back out into this wasteland it will take a little more than some runaway grazing animal, but don’t let me stop you. Go get that reward and refill your treasury. Just take care to come back alive. A hunting accident would spoil our trip.“

„What’s that supposed to mean? You were the one trying to get us killed.“

The Chancellor passed over Gladio’s remark. „I shall wait for you in that diner over there. After all, I may assume you will return to collect your vehicle.“ And with that, he walked off, leaving the rest of their party alone in front of the petrol station’s shop.

As soon as he was out of hearing range, Prompto spoke up. „Pretty full of himself for a Chancellor, whaddaya think?“

„He’s just trying to make himself important or something.“ Gladio turned to leave. „Let’s get going. I want to make the most of not having him breathe down our necks.“

Noctis joined him, much like the rest, but he was wondering if his memories of Ardyn might have been exaggerated by his childish imagination at the time. If Ardyn could use actual magic, it must have been granted by a member of the Lucis Caelum bloodline. No one else on Eos possessed magic, save for the Oracle, and as far as Noctis knew, Luna’s abilities were very different. Sure, Noctis’ retinue could use his magic, because he had shared it with them, but he could not imagine that his father would have given access to something so precious to a person affiliated with the Empire, not even if that person had saved the Crown Prince.

Finding that aggressive Dualhorn turned out to be slightly more trouble than anticipated. One would think that such a large and sluggish grazing animal, especially one that was lashing out at any other creature nearby, should be easy to locate, but Noctis and his friends ended up trekking through Leide’s dry steppe for over an hour before they encountered the creature. It was stomping along a number of red rocks, seemingly searching for something to trample. Noctis approached it carefully from behind, trying to use the moment of surprise to his advantage, but Ignis signalled for him and the others to gather behind one of the rocks.

Gladio peeked out at the monster. „Strange colour,“ he said.

„It certainly doesn’t look like any Dualhorn I’ve ever seen,“ Ignis added.

Both the newspaper article and the tipster had seemingly forgotten to mention that the two parallel horns protruding from the creature’s relatively small head were tinged crimson instead of the usual dull grey. The same reddish hue had also founds its way into the thick, grey hide of the Dualhorn. On top of that, it appeared to be larger than others of its kind, although there were none around to draw a direct comparison.

In a flash of blueish light – the colour of Noctis’ magic – Ignis summoned a dagger into each hand. „Who knows what it’ll be capable of. We better be careful about this.“

„Got it.“ Noctis left the safety of the rock’s shadow and continued to close in on the monster. Just as he reached a good angle to throw his sword from, the wind changed direction, and the Dualhorn turned around. Snorting and kicking up dust, the monster prepared to attack.

„Watch out!“ Gladio shouted.

The monster charged straight towards Noctis. It had lowered its horns to run him right through.

Unafraid, Noctis raised an arm to defend himself just like he had practised it. All his training with the Crownsguard had to pay off sometime. Although, technically, this was the first time he fought an opponent who seriously meant to kill him.

He waited for the very last moment to step aside. It was just a tiny step, but his Royal magic allowed him to move faster than light, if only momentarily and only in a single direction. Phasing, was the term commonly used for short-distance warping.

The Dualhorn dashed past him, right through the fading afterimage leftover from the use of Noctis’ magic.

In one motion, he withdrew the Engine Blade from his armiger and threw it after the monster. Phasing proved that he did not need to throw a weapon to warp, but it made warping so much easier. Not only served the weapon as a sort of anchor point to determine the direction and distance, but when Noctis zipped through the air to grab the sword’s hilt, some of the momentum and magical energy was transferred into the weapon, making his strike all the more powerful.

Despite of the Dualhorn’s thick hide, the force of the warp-strike allowed Noctis to land a decent hit before the creature threw itself around and knocked him to the ground. It reared up to trample him, yet Gladio intervened in time and shoved the monster back with the broad side of his greatsword.

„I told you to watch out.“ Gladio criticised Noctis as he rose from the dusty earth.

„I’m not gonna bite it from getting knocked around for a bit,“ he complained.

Frost had formed on the daggers in Ignis’ hands. He threw them at the Dualhorn’s head, and with each dagger that hit, ice magic was cast at the creature, causing its body to freeze over. Gladio followed up with a wide slash and successfully broke off one of the Dualhorn’s name-giving horns.

The creature staggered backwards.

„Prompto!“ Ignis called out.

„Don’t mind if I do!“ With his handgun, Prompto aimed at the soft underbelly of the beast and emptied the clip in a series of magic-imbued shots from different angles, desperado-style.

„You’re such a show-off,“ Noctis said, to which Prompto laughed.

„Says the only guy who can friggin’ warp! So unfair, by the way.“

The Dualhorn was looking fairly wounded, but some kind of hidden strength drove it to get back up and face them again.

„One more blow should do it,“ Gladio said.

Noctis readied his sword once more. „Let me put it out of its misery.“ Just as the creature lowered its head to charge at him again, he warp-struck at its neck. His blade sunk deep through the Dualhorn’s hide and flesh. As the monster’s body collapsed beneath Noctis, he jumped off its broad shoulders and landed safely back on the ground.

„Woohoo! Can’t stop Noct!“ Prompto cheered.

When Noctis turned around to the dead creature, his eyes fell on the blood still trickling out of its wounds. A black substance mingled with the red blood cells. „What’s this?“

Prompto squatted down next to a puddle of the creature’s blood. „You mean this black stuff?“

„Don’t touch it,“ Ignis harshly instructed him, and Prompto was back on his feet in an instant.

„I wasn’t gonna …!“

„It appears the Dualhorn was infected,“ Ignis explained.

Gladio dismissed his greatsword back into Noct’s armiger to cross his arms in front of his chest. „You think … The scourge?“

„Does that mean it would’ve turned into a daemon if we hadn’t killed it?“ Prompto asked, looking worried.

Monsters getting infected with the scourge was certainly new to Noctis. Many years ago, house Fleuret had released public information on the Starscourge. It was a not very wide-spread, but severe, lethal, and thus far, incurable disease that, in its last stage, turned infected humans into the violent and grotesque-looking daemons that stalked the world at night and perished in broad sunlight. If it had not been for that bit of information, scientists still would have failed to make the connection between the Starscourge and the daemons.

Noctis had never seen it happen himself, of course, but he had read that when someone died of the scourge, their body dissolved into smoke, and reformed into a daemon sometime later, with no indication of where or when exactly. It was no wonder that people in some parts of Eos still debated and denied the connection in public media. To them, daemons were, and always had been, the uglier, more ferocious kind of monsters.

Noctis, for his part, was inclined to agree that, whatever their origin, daemons were violent and cruel creatures, and needed to be put down. He still remembered the horror of that day when a six-armed Marilith attacked his dad’s car. Many died before Regis had stopped the daemon, and Noctis had just barely survived himself.

Carefully, Ignis bent down to examine the wounds of the Dualhorn. „It’s all speculation at this point, but it seems to me that the Starscourge has a slightly different effect on monsters than it has on humans.“ He took out his smart phone and scrolled through the list of contacts. „I shall contact hunter HQ to pick up the body for research.“

„I bet Sania wants to have a look at this,“ Gladio said.

„Who’s that?“ Noctis asked.

“Sania Yeagre. Wildlife researcher,“ he replied. „Her studies are a must-read for every outdoor fan. Lots of things out here can kill you.“ His words made it sound as though the dog-sized scorpions they had spotted in the distance earlier were not proof enough.

„No kidding,“ Noctis said. „How ’bout we return to Hammerhead for now? Job’s done. There should be a reward waiting for us.“

Gladio turned his gaze towards the horizon, seemingly estimating the time left until the sun set and daemons rose from the shadows. „Next haven’s closer, but we can make it back in time if we hurry.“

Chapter Text

With their travel funds replenished and the Regalia repaired, Noctis’ party of five set out from Hammerhead the next morning and continued their way to the coast. Had Cindy not asked them to make a delivery for her, Ignis might have driven through until Galdin Quay, but Noctis had not been able to refuse her request, and so they pulled over at Longwythe Rest. The outpost was even smaller than Hammerhead and, had only a Crow’s Nest fast food diner on one side of the road, and a Three Zs’ motel on the other to offer. While the owner of the motel unloaded Cindy’s delivery from the trunk of the Regalia, Noctis stretched his legs, pacing up and down along the road.

He had just turned back from the Chocobo rental post when he spotted a black dog with white markings running towards him. Umbra, Luna’s faithful messenger had appeared, quite literally, out of nowhere. As usual, the canine found him everywhere and always, even in the most unusual places and at the worst times. Noctis remembered one time he had been soaking in the bathtub, behind the locked door of his bathroom when he had turned his head and Umbra suddenly sat in the middle of the room. How that worked, he would never understand, but it probably had to do with the divine powers of a messenger. It was just a bit weird, considering that Umbra had both the looks and the personality of an ordinary dog.

„Good boy.“ Noctis knelt in front of the messenger and pet Umbra in greeting before he reached for the red notebook bound to the dog’s back with a green strap.

„A message from Luna?“ Ignis asked, standing a few steps away. „Huh. The ability of that dog to find you never ceases to amaze me.“

His remark caught Ardyn’s attention. „What does the lovely bride-to-be write?“, he wondered aloud and promptly walked up to Noctis to glance over his shoulder.

It was the last thing the Niff Chancellor needed to know. Noctis pressed the notebook to his chest and shot him a glare. „Dude, you ever heard of postal privacy?“

With a lightly offended expression, Ardyn backed away, but Noctis still made sure he was not looking before he opened the book and flicked to the latest entry. A pressed blue flower was taped to one page – a Sylleblossom, native to Tenebrae and symbol of the Oracle. The other showed a single line of text.

The time has come to leave Tenebrae. Give my regards to the Chancellor of Niflheim when you meet him.

„The hell?“ Noct muttered under his breath. Why on Eos would Luna ask him to give her regards to the Niff Chancellor of all people?

We left Insomnia a while ago. Can’t wait to see you again. The Chancellor is a royal pain in the neck.

Once his reply had been written, Noctis shut the book and tucked it under the strap on Umbra’s back. Like hell he would give Ardyn the satisfaction of knowing that Luna had mentioned him. The Chancellor did not need another reason to walk around looking so smug. Still, Noctis could not fathom why Luna would be so well disposed towards a Niflheim politician. This was going to be another thing he had to ask her about as soon as they met in person.

#-#-#

M.E. 752 – Fenestala Manor, Tenebrae

„Lady Lunafreya,“ Ardyn exclaimed as he strode into her lavishly furnished room at the long-since refurbished Fenestala Manor. „Correct me if I am mistaken, but I think this meeting was long overdue.“

Luna got up from the recliner to face him. The sight of the Chancellor filled her with a fleeting, but equally deep and intangible feeling of dread. The first time she had seen him had been the day Niflheim invaded her home, her mother died amidst flames and blood, and bitterness and hatred had changed her brother forever. She remembered with great clarity how the Chancellor had been standing there, at the sidelines, watching with an emotionless expression as she and Ravus had been taken away by the Empire. Since then, she always felt as if a great disaster was imminent as soon as the man entered the same area or building.

„What can I do for you, Chancellor?“ she asked, trying her best to show some politeness without stepping closer.

He strode aimlessly through her room, taking in the decoration with curious looks, although he might as well be nothing more than a predator feigning disinterest. „I was hoping you could help me with the prophecy regarding the True King of Lucis.“ Absentmindedly, he stroked the petals of the Sylleblossoms in the vase by the entrance, not sparing her a glance. „The Cosmogony speaks much of the King and the Darkness, but what role does the Oracle play in it?“

„It is the Oracle’s calling to help the True King obtain the strength he needs to dispel the darkness,“ Luna replied with conviction. „In his name, she asks for the support of the gods.“

„I heard that the favour of the gods comes at a great cost. They might demand no less than the Oracle’s life.“

„Then to give her life is also part of her calling.“

When the Chancellor turned back to her, one of the flowers had turned black and withered.

Her unease grew, but she was determined not to let herself be intimidated.

„What if I were to tell you that none of the sacrifices your divine calling demands will be required to rid this Star of its dark scourge?“

„I am not sure what you are implying.“

„Is it not so that the gods, or, should I say, the overgrown lizard hiding behind the Crystal in Lucis, conceived a grand plan for humanity? You should know already that Bahamut is the playwright and director in this drama. The Starscourge, or darkness, if you prefer, is no invention of the gods, and we have to thank Minister Besithia for his most successful research on it. You see, unlike the divine, the scourge is scientifically explainable and, furthermore, very likely treatable. If Bahamut would allow it, mankind could help itself instead of praying, waiting, hoping for the gods to take pity on them.“

„I’m sorry, but,“ Luna started and took a moment to keep her composure. „How would you know of the gods’ plans for mankind, and specifically, the Draconian’s schemes? For ages, no one has been able to commune with Bahamut. Not even the line of the Oracles.“

A sly smile spread across his face. „Ah, but you see, Bahamut came to me. I know, I do not seem like much, but to him, I am of great importance.“

Through the mirror in the corner of her eye, Luna noticed a woman dressed in a black gown standing behind her. As usual, Gentiana had appeared without a sound, and, due to being a divine messenger, she lacked the presence that gave away any onlooking mortal.

Somehow, the Chancellor’s smirk grew even wider. „If it isn’t the High Messenger. I had hoped you would join this meeting.“

„Lady Lunafreya. Great caution is advised.“ Gentiana’s voice betrayed only the faintest hint of concern. „This man is trying to lead you away from the right path.“

„Oh, am I?“ The Chancellor’s tone suddenly shifted from amused to bitter and upset. „And who decides what the right path is?“ His outburst lasted no more than a second or two before he regained his composure. For the most part, anyway. He laughed quietly. Desperate, in a way.

For the first time since Luna had come to know the High Messenger, Gentiana took a step past her, and there could be only one reason for it. She wished to shield Luna from harm. The Chancellor truly had to be much more dangerous than his appearance suggested

„The Frostbearer wishes you to know that this man is the Accursed, embodiment of the Starscourge,“ Gentiana said, addressing the Oracle without looking at her. Shocked by this revelation, Luna drew in a sharp breath. So, this sense of dread she had felt … Could it have been the darkness? The scourge?

„At long last, someone is speaking straight.“ Paying no attention to Luna and Gentiana, Ardyn walked past them and dropped onto the bench near the window. „And now that that’s finally out,“ he said with a sigh of contentment, „Let us talk about why the people of Niflheim have grown weary of the gods, and what Bahamut is doing to the bloodlines of the Oracle and the King. After all, you should know better than anyone that their magic was not just simply a gift of the Crystal. The Sacred Stone has no will of its own.“

On one hand, Lunafreya wanted to throw him out for his blasphemy, but on the other, he offered her a chance, perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, to glimpse into the motivations of the man destined to bring ruin to the world. If nothing else, he spoke of her and Noctis’ fate, and his mention of a possible alternative to combat the scourge sounded equally intriguing.

„Lady Lunafreya,“ Gentiana admonished her again, but Luna signalled her not to intervene as she sat down opposite of Ardyn. „Please. I want to hear what he has to say.“

„You have nothing to fear from me,“ Ardyn assured her. „I long only to bring mischief upon the one who has imposed the role of mischief-maker upon me.“

It was the prelude to a conversation that went on for several hours.

On that afternoon, Ardyn told her everything he had learnt from Bahamut about his grand plan to cleanse Eos of the Starscourge. He spoke of a vision, in which he had seen ten years of utter darkness, daemons and suffering he was to bring about. It was all meant to culminate in his demise, as well as the end of the Lucis Caelum bloodline, which had been promised to him as a liberating act of vengeance for crimes of the Kings in ages past. Ardyn laid out for her coherently how any suffering that had befallen the Oracles, Kings and even the land of Lucis could be traced back to Bahamut’s influence. The Crystal was the literal offending object in every war. The magic of the Lucii the early death of every King. The sacrifices demanded by the Oracles to cure the scourge their every end.

When Luna asked just how Ardyn expected the world to be freed of the Starscourge without divine assistance, he revealed that the Minister’s research into the use of daemonic energy had incidentally opened up ways to treat the disease with medicine and science. However, Emperor Aldercapt and Minister Besithia were more than unwilling to pursue these possibilities, and Ardyn himself was not a man of science.

Luna had to admit that the Chancellor knew how to captivate with his words. She understood the connections and saw the possibilities, not just for mankind, but also for herself. There would be no more sacrifices by the Kings or Oracles in the name of a god. Noctis would live. Gentiana said nothing to this, but remained by her side, silent and attentive.

Eventually, Luna turned to the High Messenger. „Do you think it could actually be possible to defy fate?“

„To choose one’s own path is to face great uncertainty,“ she replied.

„I know that. I just want to know if it is possible at all.“

„Those who defy fate will inevitably incur the wrath of the Draconian. His judgement knows no mercy.“

„So there is no way past Bahamut,“ Luna concluded. „Only through him.“

Ardyn clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back. „So it is.“

„What about the other Astrals?“ she asked Gentiana.

„Some are indifferent to the Bladekeeper’s view of mankind, whereas others have opposed it. Yet the aftermath of the Great War has left them too exhausted to act, and although the path the Draconian has chosen for men may be one of suffering, he still aims to protect Eos.“

„From men, to be precise,“ Ardyn added.

„You are not fit to interpret the words of the gods“, the High Messenger admonished him.

„Please, save me your speeches. I have heard them all before.“

Luna thought on what Gentiana had said for a moment or two. She had never revealed so much about the Draconian before, but then again, neither had she asked as much about him, either. Gentiana never lied, and so she concluded that there was at least some truth to the Accursed’s words.

„You came to offer me knowledge, but what do you hope to gain from me knowing all this?,“ she asked him. „Do you expect me not to lend my aid to the Chosen King of Lucis?“

„Not at all,“ he replied with perfect calm. „In fact, please do lend him your aid. I was merely hoping you could put in a good word or two for mankind the next time you commune with the gods, so that they might offer their strength to the King even when that strength is directed against Bahamut.“

„If the prophecy comes to pass, you will perish,“ Luna realised.

„Not unless Bahamut perishes first, of course.“ Ardyn rose from the bench and turned to leave. „In the end, however, it is your decision whether to follow your calling or not. I merely offer advice.“

Luna stood up as well. „You mentioned that you believed in the gods a long time ago. What made you lose your faith?“

He stopped in his tracks, just in front of the door, but did not turn back. „A little of everything, I suppose,“ he replied, scratching his head. „For example, every single time they twisted the dagger they stabbed in my back.“

A bizarre feeling of hope took root in Luna’s heart. She had always imagined the prophesied darkness to be some sort of abstract entity, a monster, or worse. To think that it was merely a man made her wish for a different ending to the prophecy. Even though she herself was ready and willing to give her life for others, no one should have to suffer.

„You are not the monster the prophecy speaks of,“ she said eventually.

Ardyn lazily waved a hand on his way out. „It only goes to show how little you know me.“

Chapter Text

„Ah, life is exhausting.“ With a sigh, Ardyn approached the caravan they had rented for the night.

Just like it had happened with Cindy at Hammerhead before, one thing had led to another, and they had spent the afternoon searching for the dog tags of fallen hunters for a man named Dave. By the time they had returned to civilisation, the sun had already set.

Noctis shot the Chancellor a glance, even though he could barely keep his eyes off his smartphone. Ardyn looked positively exhausted, but then again, he always had a certain air of weariness about him. Apart from the Chancellor, they all sat around a plastic table in front of the caravan to play Triple Triad on mobile.

Noctis directed his attention back to his match against Prompto and played another card before addressing their escort. „What have you been up to?“ he asked casually. He did not remember exactly when or why Ardyn had left, but he did not care much, either.

„You know; Making calls, pulling strings. The usual.“ Ardyn stepped closer to look over the shoulders of Ignis and Prompto. „You lot seem mighty busy.“

„We are playing Triple Triad,“ Prompto explained, biting his lower lip as he set down a card.

Ignis’ glasses reflected the brightly lit game screen from his phone. „It is really popular right now,“ he added.

Ardyn looked mildly confused at the four of them, all sitting around the table staring at their phones. „All of you? How does that work?“

„You only need a mobile,“ Noctis explained.

From a pocket on the inside of his coat, Ardyn pulled out a black flip phone. It was an old model, the kind that used to come with a non-touch-sensitive display on one half and a bunch of buttons on the other, but for its age, it appeared to be in a very good condition, still. There was some kind of tribal ornament on the casing.

„Where’d you get that from?“ Gladio asked with a chuckle. „The stone age?“

„Not quite. The Minister gave it to me some ten to twenty years ago.“

„Man, that makes it almost as old as me,“ Noctis remarked.

Prompto eyed Ardyn’s flip phone with the excited look of a tech nerd who just found a rare gadget from the last decade. „Gotta love the design!“

„My dad had one of these,“ Gladio remarked. „They’re actually rather sturdy, and the battery lasts pretty much forever. Something like this wouldn’t happen with one of these.“ He tilted his smartphone to reveal the large crack that ran across the display.

„What happened? Did you drop it?“ Prompto asked.

„Nope. Just took a beating along with me.“

„In any case,“ Noctis said, turning back to Ardyn, „you won’t be able to play Triple Triad with that.“

„Too bad.“ He put his old flip phone away. „Well, never mind, then. I suppose, I don’t need to try my hand at everything that is popular these days. Keeping up with the younger generation is already difficult enough as it is.“

Out of the corner of his eye, Noctis watched him disappear into the caravan. It took a couple of seconds before the Chancellor’s absence started to feel weird, as if the silence between the four of them had turned from perfectly normal to awkward. Noctis had never actively rejected company when offered, and for once, it seemed as though Ardyn had been genuinely interested to join them. Another second passed, and he felt downright bad to reject an old man’s attempt to cross the generation gap.

„Hey, Ardyn,“ he called over to the caravan door. „If you pull up a chair I’ll explain the game to you using my smartphone.“ He got some, rather questioning, looks from his friends, but at least he managed to grab the Chancellor’s attention again.

Ardyn stuck his head out the door with a surprised look on his face. „Well, I can’t pass up on that invitation, now, can I?“ Just as Noctis had suggested, he took one of the remaining chairs and sat down next to him. If only communication with the Chancellor was always this easy.

Noctis showed him the game screen. „It’s a card game, see? You get to place them on this board, and, if your card has a higher number than the one next to it, you score a point. It’s really simple to understand, but there are a lot of different moves you can make.“ Not to mention, of course, that there were lots of cool monsters and characters to collect.

„I like to regard it as a form of mental exercise,“ Ignis noted.

Ardyn listened intently while Noctis explained some of the more strategic aspects of the game in a mock battle against Prompto. It was not long before the Chancellor asked Noctis to let him have a go, and so Noctis set him up against his high school friend with the cards he had selected earlier. The match went by quickly and, to his surprise, Ardyn lost, although there had been plenty of opportunities to turn the cards in his favour. Noctis could not have done such a bad job at explaining the rules, right?

„Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it,“ Prompto said.

„Would you care for a rematch?“ Ardyn asked, looking thoughtful.

„Sure.“

The rematch played out entirely different. From the first turn onwards, Ardyn had and kept the upper hand. Prompto suffered a devastating loss. Actually, Noctis got the impression that Ardyn had understood the game perfectly right away, he had just been toying with his friend.

„Wow, you really know how to play once you know how to play,“ Prompto sheepishly admitted. „I’m kinda glad now you don’t own a smartphone.“

Chuckling, Ardyn looked among the remaining members of Noctis’ entourage. „Who wants to go next?“

His gaze was met with a challenging look by Ignis. „I’ll play against you.“

„Iggy’s real good,“ Prompto warned him.

Noctis knew his cards were not good enough to even stand a chance at beating Ignis, and he had not yet shown Ardyn how to use the menu to select the cards for each match, either, so Ardyn ended up using the same hand he had used against Prompto. On his first turn, he set a weak card into a spot that made it practically defenceless.

„An obvious mistake,“ Ignis said and took the opportunity to score a point.

„Oh dear! Whatever am I doing to do?“ The mocking tone in his voice complemented the feigned expression of surprise on the Chancellor’s face. Ardyn set down a much stronger card to overpower both Ignis’ card and his earlier one, which scored him two points in one go.

Prompto, who was watching the game from over Iggy’s shoulder, gasped. „Wicked move!“

Only Ignis remained unimpressed. „A well executed tactic, but it will not get you very far.“

It came down to a draw in the end, which, if Noctis was being honest, was the best that could be achieved with the cards chosen. He took his phone out of Ardyn’s hands to review his total score. „I think that’s enough for now.“

The Chancellor leaned back, looking very pleased with himself. „I must admit, this game has some interesting tactical aspects to it. Although it still pales in comparison to the rich history and complexity of chess. Should we ever get a chance to play a match, I will gladly take any of you on.“

Ignis leaned back and adjusted his glasses. „You may consider this challenge accepted.“

Chapter Text

Galdin Quay offered, both scenically and architecturally, a welcome change from the dry, run-down towns in the heart of Leide. The main – and only – attraction of the tiny coast town was the Mother of Pearl, a restaurant and spa hotel built on stilts in the water, accessible only via a pier flanked by palm trees on either side. The owners probably made the most money off the passengers that had to pass through the restaurant to access the ferry dock. Noctis could think of a lot worse ways to spend the time waiting for the next ferry from Accordo than to dine on Altissian cuisine.

 A pleasant breeze blew in from the sea. There were people out on the beach, swimming and playing in the sands. The azure waters looked to be perfect for fishing as well. As soon as they had exited the parking lot, Noctis made a mental note to cast a line if he found the time.

And he had time. Perhaps more than he had wanted. Noctis did not know whether to welcome or lament the fact that the ferry to Altissia was being held on the other side of the ocean on Imperial orders. On one hand, it was another obstacle on their already ill-fated journey. On the other, it allowed him to spend some time fishing, hanging around at the beach, the restaurant, and the spa hotel. He did well without the massage, however, after trying it out and escaping from the lounger with a more than familiar backache. Even after twelve years, the old wound that the Marilith daemon had inflicted upon him still plagued him every once in a while. He could consider himself lucky that he had recovered so well, seeing how Luna’s mother, the former Oracle, had been killed in the attack on Fenestala Manor before she could complete the healing.

While Prompto stood on the ferry dock, taking pictures of the sea and the island with the strange, wing-like rock formations in the distance, Ignis was trying to glean cooking tips from the local chef.

The Chancellor passed the time by handing out commemorative coins minted with the image of the Oracle to visitors of the restaurant and waiting travellers. Had Noctis not seen him, he would have never believed how easy it was for him to engage passers-by in friendly small talk. Surrounded by children, Ardyn seemed like a peculiar, yet harmless stranger. Noctis was certain that none of those present knew of his political position. In passing, Ardyn tossed him a coin as well, as a memento of their journey.

In response to Ignis’ legitimate question about whether he could lift the ferry’s blockade, Ardyn merely let them know that his influence on the Imperial military was limited. Even Noctis recognised the lie as such, but dropped the subject. With all the delays, one day of travel more or less did not matter anyway. At the very least, all the recent diversions had earned them enough money for a stay at the hotel.

The rude awakening followed the next morning.

Ignis returned to the hotel room with a hot-off-the-press edition of the daily newspaper bearing the headline „Insomnia Falls“. It reported on hostilities during the signing of the peace treaty and the death of King Regis. At first, Noctis refused to believe it, but Ignis assured him that not all of the media could be wrong, and Noctis’ incomprehension was joined by anger.

„Where is Ardyn?“ he asked with trembling fists as the four of them stood gathered in the hotel room.

„Haven’t seen him today,“ Prompto replied.

„Neither have I,“ Ignis added.

„No surprise, is it?“ Gladio huffed. „He probably left yesterday to sit alongside Emperor Aldercapt in the Citadel now.“

Noctis’ felt his fingernails dig into his skin. „We have to go back.“

Prompto took a step towards the door as if to stop him. „But isn’t Insomnia crawling with Imperials by now?“

„It is no longer safe for us there,“ Ignis agreed, adding to Prompto’s worry.

„And what if they come looking for us here, too?“

„I need to see it. I need to see if it’s true,“ Noctis insisted. „I have to find out what happened to dad.“

Ignis turned to him, awaiting instructions. „What should it be, Noct?“

„We’re going back to Insomnia.“

They set off in great haste. Ignis drove until the first traffic jam came into view in front of an Imperial control station. Without much discussion, they veered onto an unpaved road that led to the side of the fortifications at Leide’s border. Somewhere beyond lay a mountain crevasse, the sea, and, finally, Insomnia. As they made their way past the fortifications on foot, they were attacked by Magitek riflemen and axemen. Noctis found the Empire’s soulless robots to be just the thing to vent his pent-up rage on. Almost single-handedly, he cleaved a path through their lines, leaving his comrades in the dust as he warped about the place, throwing swords and spears, and any other weapon he pulled from his armiger. The path that wound around the complex eventually led the four of them to a rocky outcrop that jutted out over a chasm in the mountains at the very edge of Leide’s shoreline. In the far distance, beyond the rocks and the sea, rose Insomnia’s city walls. The only bridge that crossed over from Leide to Insomnia was blocked off. No path led within.

Airships of the Imperial military in all sizes passed over the heads of Noctis and his entourage. The city before them lay defenceless. Gone was the shimmer of the magical barrier that had protected it for decades. Noctis knew what that meant. The newscaster whose voice came from Prompto’s smart phone repeated what the papers had announced earlier, but still, Noctis did not want to hear it. He held tight onto the flickering, fading spark of hope that his father might still be alive. The only thing new about the broadcast was the mention of his and Luna’s deaths, but Noctis’ burning anger only grew as a result. Lies. All Imperial lies. From the peace treaty to their so-called escort, the Empire had fooled them all along.

„How terribly rude of you to abandon me just because I had to attend to my political duties for five minutes.“ The voice that reached their ears had become all too familiar over the past days.

Startled, Prompto dropped his smart phone. Ignis picked it up for him.

„Look who’s got the nerve to show his face again,“ Gladio greeted the Chancellor bitterly.

Ardyn approached them from the direction of the fortifications. Another, smaller airship passed over them. - Probably the one which had dropped him off.

„Did you know about this?“ Noctis shouted, pointing to the invasion fleet hovering over Insomnia.

„That the treaty was signed last night? No.“

„Cut the crap, Ardyn!“ Noctis demanded. „Tell me if my father is still alive.“

„I was not at the scene, so I don’t know all the details, but judging by King Regis’ condition, I very much doubt he survived the attack. Especially since Minister Besithia took his latest creations with him.“ Ardyn circled the four friends at a safe distance until he stood with his back to the chasm. „I beg you! Any man could have seen that the treaty was just a farce. Do you seriously think Regis did not know what he had agreed to? His life had been forfeit the moment he put on that accursed ring. Given his frailty, the Wall would have fallen very soon, anyway – with or without Niflheim’s interference. You knew that the magic of the Lucii was burning away years of his life, didn’t you? He can consider himself lucky to have been put out of his misery.“

The way the Chancellor spoke of his father made Noctis’ anger boil over. If there had been any indication that Ardyn had more to throw at them but words, Noctis would have summoned the Engine Blade by now to point it at his throat. But one last shred of self-restraint kept him from threatening an unarmed man.

„You,“ he said through clenched teeth, „made sure we weren’t there to help him when he needed us most.“ He started towards Ardyn, but Gladio put a hand on his chest and held him back.

„I,“ Ardyn replied, „have seen to it that you do not fall into the hands of Niflheim, you ungrateful brat. I had you and Lunafreya Nox Fleuret declared dead so that no one would look for you.“ He took a step closer, seemingly trying to intimidate Noctis.

This was a challenge Noctis gladly accepted. He tried to push Gladio’s arm aside, but Gladio would not let him pass and so he simply phased past his Shield. „I did not ask for this!“ he continued to argue as he tried to stare the Chancellor down.

Never would he have expected Ardyn’s hand to clasp around his throat. Noctis gasped for breath.

In an instant, Gladio summoned his greatsword. „Let him go!“

„Don’t do something you will regret!“ Ignis warned the Chancellor.

The hold on his throat was only just light enough not to choke him, but it caused adrenaline to rush through Noctis’ veins all the same. Ardyn looked down at him not with anger, but disgust. For the first time since they had met, Noctis became truly aware that humans were not supposed to have amber-yellow eyes. A kind of instinctual fear mixed into his anger.

„I’m so tired of always being the scapegoat,“ Ardyn said. „Why don’t we end this right here and now? The Bladekeeper will not protect you. In this very moment, he is preoccupied watching Niflheim steal his precious Crystal.“

Heart pounding, but will unbroken, Noctis tried to free himself from the taller man’s grasp.

„You look like Somnus, but you are not like him.“ The Chancellor swayed his head from side to side. „You are merely spoiled. A spoiled little prince. Blind to the suffering in the world, and blind to the suffering of your kin.“

He opened his hand, unexpectedly freeing Noctis. Noctis stumbled, but Prompto grabbed his arm and pulled him away before he fell. Ignis gave both of them a small push to quickly get them out of the Chancellor’s reach.

„Give me a reason not to strike you down right now,“ Gladio demanded as he stepped between Ardyn and the others.

„Please, there’s no need to hold back,“ Ardyn replied with a dark chuckle to his voice. „I’d love to see you try.“

Despite of the invitation – or, perhaps, because of it – Gladio did not attack him. Noctis saw in the way his Shield tensed that Gladio wrestled down the urge to lunge at the man and end the life of one of Niflheim’s most influential politicians, be it for attacking Noctis or what Niflheim had done to Insomnia in general.

„Let it go,“ Ignis advised him. „This quarrel with him isn’t getting us anywhere.“ He signalled Prompto and Noctis to escape and thus, they turned to leave while Ignis and Gladio watched their backs. In a way, Noctis still would have liked to take a swing at Ardyn’s face, but he did not want to risk getting caught off-guard again.

„I give you one last chance to prove to me that you can escape your fate, O True King.“

Noctis stopped to glance back over his shoulder and was about to come back with a snappy reply when Ardyn’s form dissolved into black particles, shot towards him – and before he fully realised what was happening, he felt himself grabbed by the collar and yanked towards the outcrop. He stumbled towards the ledge, struggling to stay balanced as he stared right into the dark abyss before him.

„Dammit!“ Gladio cursed.

„Noct!“ Prompto cried out.

#-#-#

Ignis watched in horror as Ardyn kicked Noctis down the chasm.

Screaming in anger, Gladio lunged at the Chancellor. His greatsword slid through the man’s back seemingly without resistance. A black liquid splattered onto the stones. Although Ardyn stumbled from the force of the hit, Gladio’s blade left no mark on him.

The Chancellor turned around to face the three of them, spread his arms and dropped backwards into the abyss, laughing like a madman

Chapter Text

Noctis fell. Wind whipped about him. Darkness enveloped him. Desperate, he threw his Engine Blade and warped after it as he heard it strike stone. The sword stuck in the rock for barely a moment before the stones came loose, and he fell again.

Suddenly and painfully, he smashed through the water surface of a small stream at the bottom of the chasm. Disoriented, he kicked his arms and legs until his head came up for air again. The water stung like ice on his skin. Noctis was not a good swimmer, and the current threatened to pull him into unknown depths. Darkness reigned around him. His fingers brushed against smaller stones. He clawed at them and somehow managed to pull himself into shallower waters.

Panting, Noctis heaved himself onto the shore.

Although he was soaked to the bone, at least Noctis had survived the fall without any major injuries. He raised his head to the sky above. Although he could see the sun, its rays did not reach far enough into the narrow chasm to illuminate the shore in front of him. The clip-on light on his jacket would not turn on, either. „Ignis?“ he called upwards. „Prom? Gladio?“ He thought to hear them shout, but their voices were distorted by the echo. He must have fallen pretty damn far.

Cautiously, Noctis felt his way along the rock face near the shore. He was prepared to take his sword out of the armiger at any second. Daemons might be lurking in this darkness - or worse: Ardyn.

In front of him, a smoking, strangely shaped pile appeared in the darkness. Only when Noctis had come within a few metres did he realise with horror what the pile consisted of. Arms, legs and heads protruded from the mass. A mountain of burnt corpses piled up in front of him. Their cramped fingers, bent knees and open mouths only allowed the assumption that the people had been burned alive.

The sight made Noctis’ gasp for air. A wave of nausea struck him and he turned away abruptly. For a few moments he struggled for breath and composure. When he opened his eyes again, his entire environment had changed.

Instead of standing in the dark chasm, he suddenly found himself on the outskirts of a ruined village. The nearest houses, which had apparently once been built in the simplest manner, lay crumbling and blackened by fire. Uprooted trees and torn walls told of a violent battle. In stark contrast to the devastation were the golden fields of wheat that surrounded the village on all sides. A lone, white tower rose in the far distance.

Noctis knew of no place in Eos which fitted this description. What he saw he would have taken for a dream or a vision, but the stones he felt under his boots and the wet clothes clinging to his body reminded him that he was conscious. „Ardyn, is this your doing?“ he shouted. „You can’t scare me that easily!“

Noctis braced himself for the sight of the corpses before turning forward again.

Two people had appeared in front of the burnt bodies. An old villager wearing a historical tunic and a tall man whose figure was shrouded by a long cloak. Judging by their ancient clothing, it seemed to be a scene from one of the many old legends of Eos.

„Lord Caelum, I thank the Six you found your way here,“ the old man said. „Your dear brother did unspeakable things. He rounded up all those who carry the Starscourge - even those who were only suspected of it – and burned them alive.“

„Caelum?“ Noctis tried to catch a glimpse of the second man’s face, but he had thrown the cloak over his head like a hood, and the illusion that overlaid Noctis’ already poor vision of the floor of the chasm made it nearly impossible for him to get closer to the figures.

„By some miracle I was able to save my daughter from him, but I fear that without your help she will soon slip away from this world.“

„Take me to her,“ the man in the cloak said. „I will do what I can.“

Noctis thought he had misheard. The stranger spoke in Ardyn’s voice, even if much quieter.

The scenery changed. Colours blurred, and in the next moment Noctis and the two men stood in one of the last intact houses of the village. In front of them lay a woman on a bed, her body heavily marked with unnaturally dark bruises and black veins from the Starscourge. She was thrashing about and might have injured those present had she not been tied to the bed posts.

Upon entering the house, the unknown Caelum took the cloak from his head. Although the blue eyes and the long brown hair tied into a ponytail did not match the Chancellor’s appearance, his facial features were identical to Ardyn’s. He sat down by the woman’s bed and held out his hand over her body.

The anger Noctis had felt towards Ardyn earlier faded and was replaced by astonishment as he witnessed the Starscourge pass from her into his hand. The woman’s bruises and black veins disappeared and she fell into a peaceful sleep. Just moments later, however, the healer writhed in pain.

„Lord Caelum?“ the old man asked.

„She is better now,“ the healer said hastily, threw the cloak over his head and fled the house.

Only once had Noctis seen Luna heal someone, and it had been on television. She was gentle with her patients, far gentler than Ardyn’s doppelganger, but also less practised. Unlike her, he seemed to have to do the healing quickly and in secret, and the procedure obviously took a toll on him. Noctis thought he had seen the strain in Luna’s eyes back then on TV, though she had hidden it as best she could. It had shaken him when he had learnt, much later, that with each healing she sacrificed a part of her life force. At that time he had send her a note and asked her to stop, but she would not and could not. According to Luna, it was the Oracle’s duty to cure the Starscourge, because only she could.

Ardyn’s doppelganger, however, was not an Oracle and did not perform the healing using his life force. Alone, outside the village, Noctis saw him overcome by the Starscourge with its typical symptoms. Groaning in pain, he fell to his knees. In contrast to Luna, he had absorbed the disease into his own body. Noctis hardly dared to imagine how much he suffered from it.

Soldiers walked by on a dirt road further up the hill.

„He’s over there! Stop him!“

They chased him through the woods like a criminal. The doppelganger … No, this was no mere coincidence. Why would Noctis be seeing this if it was not about the same Ardyn that he knew? Ardyn stumbled and fell down the sloping terrain as a storm brewed overhead. When the downpour started, the soldiers lost track of him, but Ardyn collapsed, either because of the exhaustion or the disease that was devouring him from the inside.

More glimpses of the healer’s life were revealed to Noctis. In one of them, Ardyn was speaking to a group of people about how to deal with the Starscourge. In another, a blonde woman who resembled Luna accompanied him. The two seemed happy, considering the difficult circumstances they lived in. Yet although the old man had called him „Lord“, Noctis always saw the healer outdoors or in the houses of poor people, never in a mansion befitting his title.

That changed when a new scene unfolded before Noctis, and Ardyn entered what must have been the first throne room of the Lucis Caelums more than thousands of years ago. It was not as grand as the one in the Citadel, but still impressively large. The floors and pillars, as well as the staircase to the throne, were made of white marble, in contrast to the black marble that had been used in the Citadel’s interior of today. The room was also open to all sides and offered a near-perfect view of the surrounding lands, which led Noctis to assume that the throne room was located at the top of the tower he had spotted from afar earlier. On a pedestal behind the throne stood the Crystal, fabled source of all magic in Lucis.

Ardyn must have come to answer the call of the gods, given that he had been told earlier, that he, by ascending the throne as the first King of Lucis, was to rid the world of the Starscourge.

This meant that the blonde woman in the white dress, and the man with the black robe, cape and hair, that stood next to the foot of the staircase, waiting for Ardyn, had to be Aera Mirus Fleuret, the First Oracle, and Somnus Lucis Caelum, the Founder King.

Noctis moved as far as he could towards Somnus. It was as if he was looking through a mirror into his own face. If it were not for Somnus’ emotionless gaze and some years by which he was older, Noctis could have been the spitting image of his ancestor. An uneasy feeling, like a dark premonition, crept over him. None of what was unfolding before him had been passed down in the history of the Lucis Caelums, and yet, it all looked too authentic to have been born from one man’s imagination.

Before Ardyn could climb the steps to the throne, Somnus stepped forward.

„It was I, brother! The gods have chosen me!“ he announced to the people who had come to witness the ceremony.

The First Oracle, who had seemingly been unaware of this, stepped forward, but was held back by a tall warrior clad in heavy armour, presumably Somnus’ Shield.

„Please forgive me for deceiving you all like this, but I had to lure that seditious traitor here.“ Somnus turned from the populace to his elder brother. „What a miserable man. Do you truly covet the throne that badly?“

Ardyn gave him neither an answer nor a glance, but after everything Noctis had seen, he knew that he did not care about the throne. All he cared about was to help the suffering people.

„The gods have spoken. I am king!“ Somnus repeated clearly for all to hear and summoned a blue gleaming longsword, the Blade of the Mystic, from his armiger into his hand.

His brother turned to him. „And what if I object, Somnus?“

With his blade raised, Somnus charged at him. Noctis froze. That cold-blooded thirst for power that stung from Somnus’ eyes, on that face so similar to his own, made him tremble at what atrocities his family had been capable of.

Ardyn defended himself with a red long sword that was nearly identical to Somnus’ and he defended himself well, judging by how his illness was weakening him.

„I will let you live as long as you renounce your name and right to the throne,“ Somnus promised, just as his brother was overcome by a coughing fit. Contrary to his words, Somnus barely gave him a chance to recover before attacking again.

Ardyn retaliated vehemently. With one mighty blow he managed to knock the sword out of Somnus’ hand and push him back, but Somnus threw a spear from his armiger and warped after it.

Noctis realised what was about to happen even before Somnus pierced Ardyn’s chest.

Blood splattered onto the marble floor.

Out of the corner of his eye Noctis saw Aera tearing herself free from the grasp of Somnus’ Shield. She ran towards Ardyn in a desperate attempt to protect him.

Just in that moment, Somnus summoned another sword from the armiger to end the healer’s life.

„Don’t! Wait!“ Shouting, Noctis leapt forward to stop her but fell through the illusion onto the hard ground of the chasm. He watched in horror as his ancestor – albeit unintentionally – struck down the First Oracle.

Ardyn dropped to his knees beside Aera. With waning strength, he pulled her into his arms. „No, Aera,“ he uttered, breathless. „Hold on. Please, I can …!“

Smiling faintly, she reached out to touch his face, but before he could even finish the sentence, her hand fell limp. A single, black tear dropped onto one of her half-closed eye lids.

Somnus stood to the side with his head bowed in guilt, but the moment of silence and grief between the brothers did not last for long. „Foolish woman,“ Somnus said eventually. When he raised his sword again, there was no more trace of remorse in his features or movements. „Forgive me, brother, but I must fulfil my kingly calling.“

At that instant, black smoke erupted from the wounded healer. The darkness clung to him, swirled around him, threatening to consume everything in its way. Its power was such that not just Somnus was driven back, but Noctis could feel its threatening presence, as though it was no longer a part of the illusion, but very real and all around him.

Through the raging storm of darkness, Noctis made out how Ardyn struggled to his feet with the lifeless body of Aera in his arms. Black blood, intermingled with just a few drops of red, dripped to the floor as he dragged himself and his dead beloved up the stairs to the throne, towards the Crystal.

Meanwhile, chaos and panic had broken out among the populace. Somnus hesitated not a moment to fight through the darkness. Both he and his Shield struck with their blades at Ardyn from behind over and over again, but to no avail.

The former healer stumbled, but picked himself and Aera back up and resumed walking. Neither sword nor spear left a lasting mark on him. With every blow dealt, more of the pitch black blood splattered onto the marble steps.

When Ardyn finally reached the throne and stretched out a hand to touch the Crystal, seeking the gods’ aid, a light flared from the inside of the geode, and the healer was mercilessly hurled down the staircase by the force of the Sacred Stone. Aera’s lifeless body was torn from his grasp by the blow. The last scene Noctis was able to make out through the storm, was Somnus standing over Ardyn, readying his sword to pierce the chest of his fallen brother with his blade.

The illusion faded, the dark chasm returned, and Noctis knew how the story ended. According to lore, the Founder King banished the Adagium, darkness personified, to the sacred isle of Angelgard, where he would remain imprisoned forever.

Pretty much everyone at Insomnia knew the legend, or at least, one version of it. It was a tale told in picture books for children, in songs, novels and even some horror movies. All versions went back to the same story of the Founder King and the immortal creature of darkness, but most details of the original had been lost to time. In some versions, the Adagium was depicted as a brother of the King who usurped the throne, and in others, the Adagium was a monster threatening the kingdom. The only trait all versions shared was that the Founder King always emerged as the glorious victor. Noctis had never believed a single one of those stories.

Until this day.

He rose from the ground, and finally the clip-on light on his jacket was working again. Unfinished thoughts ran through his head as Noctis treaded along the only path ahead of him between the shore and the rock face.

In the pale glow of his light, a familiar figure appeared before him. Ardyn leaned against the rock face and looked into the distance as if he were a traveller waiting for a bus. „How do you like the dirty little secrets of the Lucis Caelums?“ he asked.

„Is it true?“

„Oh, yes. My memory might have become flawed after more than two thousand years, but I shall never forget the day of Somnus’ betrayal.“ He turned to Noctis. „Make no mistake, however: the healer you saw is long since dead and buried. Before you stands a man who has forsworn the gods.“

Noctis was glad to hear that Ardyn himself drew a line between then and now. The sympathy he had felt towards Ardyn Lucis Caelum he could not extend to Ardyn Izunia. „I find it hard to believe that the same man threw me down a chasm.“

„Oh yes, that.“ Ardyn stroked thoughtfully along the stubble on his chin. „This chasm is a little deeper than I had expected.“

„Don’t tell me you threw me down here without knowing how we’d get out?“

„We’ll think of something.“

„You’re kidding.“

„Not at all.“ Ardyn turned and followed the path along the shore. „Come now. Let’s find a spot where the terrain doesn’t drop so steeply.“

Chapter Text

„How did you escape from Angelgard?“ Noctis asked as he and Ardyn wandered through the narrow chasm. His clothes dried slowly, but at least they were drying at all. He could hardly wait to escape this dark and clammy hole. Being stuck together with Ardyn was, in a way, more disturbing than ever, now that he knew of Ardyn’s true identity, but at least Noctis had learned that Ardyn had been forced into the role of the monster. It was not something he had chosen for himself.

„I have my friends from Niflheim to thank for that,“ Ardyn replied, „although … to thank is perhaps not the right expression.“

On the cliff face above them, Noctis spotted two goblins eyeing them with curiosity. As Ardyn passed them, the lesser daemons sought the distance like Voretooths trying to stay out of the way of a larger predator.

„Whose side are you really on?“ Noctis continued.

„First and foremost, my own. Did I help Niflheim invade Insomnia? Consider me guilty as charged. But to me, this was never about seeing Lucis in the hands of Aldercapt. As much as I loathe my brother and the Lucis he founded, it was our god-given calling that set us onto different paths. I only want to take revenge on the Crystal and the god who protects it. It just so happened that Niflheim was after the Crystal as well. Perhaps you will understand that I could not have asked Regis to simply hand over the Sacred Stone, especially not as a representative of Niflheim. He would have defended it with his life. Well, I assume he did.“

„Who says I will not?“

„Because you are not like your father. You do not care about the protection of the Crystal like he did.“

He was assuming a lot, but the worst part about it was that he was right. „You can’t just set out to destroy it, either,“ Noctis argued. „The Crystal is said to be the soul of Eos.“

Ardyn sighed dramatically. „Weren’t you paying attention just now? Since time immemorial, the Crystal has brought nothing but envy and ill will to Lucis. How could it be otherwise when elsewhere Eos faces darkness, war and poverty?“ He shook his head in incomprehension. „And as for the magic … Certainly, I don’t need to tell you about the price your father had to pay for the magic of the Crystal. Tell me, Prince, had it truly been worth it?“

Noctis did not give him an answer to that, seeing how a part of him was very much inclined to agree with Ardyn. Of course, it was unfair that the Ring of the Lucii had been consuming Regis’ life if it had only delayed the inevitable. His grandfather, King Mors, had died early, too. Could that have been because of the Ring and its connection to the Crystal as well?

„By the way, in case you haven’t noticed: Since the Empire believes you dead, you will have an easier time reclaiming Insomnia. And I will assist you with this task. Emperor Aldercapt, with his quest for immortality and power, is no better than my brother’s descendants who so foolishly sacrificed their lives to the whims of a stone.“

Noctis shook his head, trying to focus. „That does not change the fact that Insomnia lies in ruins.“ He struggled to will his anger from earlier back into existence, but it would not come. Perhaps because he found it difficult to blame the man who had been wronged by his ancestor.

„Keep mourning your lost home and father, if you like, or join arms with me and take back what should have been yours. Perhaps it will make you feel better to clash swords with me, but know that there will be a price to pay for all of Eos if you submit to fate.“

„What’s fate got to do with it?“

„You are the Chosen King, are you not?“

„Suppose so,“ Noctis replied, shrugging. To him, it was just a title, like any of his ancestors had. There was this prophecy about the Chosen King becoming the True King or King of Light to drive away the darkness, but no one had ever told him when this had to happen or how it needed to be done. The actual text in the Cosmogony, the book of the gods, was pretty vague and open to interpretation. Some even believed it to be yet another version of the legend of the Adagium.

„Well, I am the bringer of darkness mentioned in the prophecy,“ Arydn explained nonchalantly. „Or, just the darkness, actually. As things stand right now, I don’t have much of a reason to drown the entire world in it unless you provide me with one.“

„I thought the darkness was a monster of some kind,“ Noctis said, thinking of some depictions of the Adagium he had seen back in Insomnia. Ones that resembled daemons with pointed teeth, claws and horns.

Ardyn did not sound offended. „Looks can be deceiving, you know?“

Whether he meant that in a literal or figurative sense, Noctis did not know, but he suspected it was the latter. „According to the prophecy, I’m supposed to kill you,“ he stated.

„Try all you want!“ Ardyn replied, laughing. „I’ve never been one for boasting, but as you are now, you lack the power to cut me from this world. Trust me, others blessed with the Power of Kings have tried before.“

Although Noctis had no way of measuring just how strong Ardyn really was, him still being around after roughly two thousand years of imprisonment meant that he had to be immortal in some way. Not to mention that Somnus had tried to strike him down and failed, despite of Ardyn not fighting back, and Noct’s armiger was not even as powerful as his father’s had been when he was Noctis’ age. Engaging Ardyn in battle was probably either really, really stupid or plain pointless.

„I believe I will make a most formidable ally. Wouldn’t you agree?“ Ardyn stopped and turned back to Noctis with a broad smile. „What say, we make the most of our situation?“

„What say, we get out of this hole first?“

„Nooct!“

Prompto really knew how to interrupt a conversation.

#-#-#

„Oh man, why do I have to do this?“ Prompto complained as he descended deeper into the chasm with a rope around his waist. He was no born climber, and had Gladio not been holding the other end, he surely would have fallen by now.

„Because you’re the lightest of us,“ Ignis explained, keeping an eye on him from the ledge. „Do you see anything yet?“

Prompto did not dare look into the darkness below, so he looked up. „Yes, the blue sky, a few clouds …“

„Prompto,“ Ignis admonished him.

„Alright, alright.“ Prompto reminded himself that Noct was down there and needed his help. Just because he had heard his best friend’s voice did not mean he was unharmed. Perhaps Ardyn was threatening him further. Prompto swallowed and dared to look down. „I can’t see anything at all. It’s far too dark down there.“

„Can’t you fire a Starshell down?“

„Right, good thinking.“ With nervous fingers Prompto tried to load the right kind of ammunition into his handgun.

„Hurry up, Prompto!“ Gladio shouted with effort from above.

„Already at it.“ In his haste, Prompto dropped a shell casing into the depths. „Oops. I-It’s alright. I’ve got another one.“

#-#-#

A tiny, metal object came tumbling from above and disappeared into the stream of water next to Ardyn and Noctis. The two looked up.

Far above their heads, Prompto was dangling from a rope.

„Prompto!“ Noctis shouted. „Over here!“

„What is your friend doing?“ Ardyn asked skeptically.

A tiny light shot down and exploded into a glaringly bright ball of light directly in front of them.

Noctis shielded himself from being blinded by raising an arm in front of his face, but turned around when he heard Ardyn wincing in pain behind him. The Chancellor held up a hand, but his fingerless gloves protected only so much. His skin had turned ashen, revealing unnaturally dark veins underneath. A black liquid spilled from his eyes and ran down his face. Particles detached themselves from his form. It was a dreadful sight, but unlike the creature in the stories, Noctis had yet to see him lash out. Ardyn had kicked him down the chasm, yes, but being a Lucis Caelum himself, he had probably expected Noctis to save himself by point-warping. Either way, the Adagium was clearly no mindless daemon, but a man, irreversibly changed by his sacrifices and the injustices that had been committed to him. In the end, Noctis could not help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the Chancellor, after all.

„I see him!“ Prompto exclaimed. „Ardyn is with him! Move aside, Noct, I’m reloading!“

Noctis stepped in front of Ardyn. „Let it be, Prompto,“ he said. „Ardyn wants to help us. In a strange, overly complicated way, but I think he means it.“

„Seriously?“

„I’ll try to explain when I get up there. Hold still for a moment.“

With all his strength, Noctis threw his sword into Prompto’s direction. It bounced off the rock, causing his friend to flinch. Noctis warped after it anyway. In the nick of time, he managed to grab Prompto’s outstretched hand. The extra weight caused the rope to give way a little.

„Ignis!“ Gladio shouted in alarm.

„Didn’t you tie the rope to a rock?“ Noctis asked.

„Does Gladio count as a rock?“ Prompto responded through clenched teeth. Just then, a rush of air swept past them from the depths of the chasm. Out of the corner of his eye, Noctis noticed the wind carrying black particles with it. Ardyn materialised above them for a moment, began to fall again, dissolved once more and disappeared further upwards, over the edge of the cliff.

„Don’t let go, you two,“ he quipped, presumably addressing Gladio and Ignis.

With a jerk, the rope moved again and Prompto and Noctis were pulled up slowly. As soon as the cliff’s edge came into reach, Noctis let go of Prompto’s arm and took hold on some protruding rocks instead.

Ardyn held out a hand to each of the two climbers. Noctis accepted the offer gladly, and, although hesitant, so did Prompto a moment later. When the two of them made it up onto the outcrop, Gladio was visibly exhausted, but picked himself up to point his sword at Ardyn again.

Ignis pushed himself inbetween the Chancellor and Noctis. „What was that about?“ he demanded to know.

Ardyn glanced over Noctis’ still wet jacket. „I’d say the boy needed to cool off.“

„Long story short,“ Noctis took over, „Turns out, Ardyn is a Lucis Caelum from ages past. Something like my weird uncle, I guess? He kind of gave his life to help the people of Lucis, but then he got screwed over by the Founder King and the Crystal and was locked away for two thousand years or so. He wants to help us reclaim Insomnia if we’ll let him destroy the Sacred Stone.“

The choice between his home and the Crystal came surprisingly easy to Noctis, even if he disregarded everything Ardyn had just told him about how the Stone had been the cause of his father’s demise. Throughout his life, the Crystal had always been this inexplicable, ominous object that only few were allowed to see, and near which the greatest reverence had been demanded. As a child, he had hated the room in which it was kept because of the Stone’s overbearing presence. Noctis would protect the Crystal if it turned out to be vital to the integrity of Eos after all, but his home came first.

„The Chancellor of Niflheim is your … uncle?“ Prompto echoed in confusion.

„More like great-great-uncle, with lots of more greats in between.“

„His story sounds suspiciously much like that of the Adagium,“ Ignis remarked, glancing warily at Ardyn.

Prompto took a step back. „The friggin’ Adagium?“

„It’s okay,“ Noctis said. „Not everything they tell about the Adagium is true. The Founder King changed the story so he’d look good in it.“

„And what reason do we have to trust him?“ Gladio demanded to know.

„He showed me what really happened in the founding era,“ Noctis explained. „From his memories.“

„How would you know that wasn’t some kind of trick?“

Somehow, Noctis doubted that Gladio would believe the Chancellor even if he showed him what Noctis had seen. It had been too real, too detailed, too personal to be a trick. Noctis failed to think of any other argument, but Ardyn was quick to take over.

„I have accompanied you for days thus far, and you are all still alive and well, are you not?“

„That doesn’t mean you won’t plunge a dagger into our backs tomorrow,“ Gladio objected.

„Admittedly, I could,“ Ardyn agreed, „but seeing how we share a common goal, that would be rather unwise of me, wouldn’t it?“

Ignis looked unconvinced. „If you are as powerful as the tale of the Adagium suggests, you will have no need for our help. The Crystal is already in Imperial hands.“

„That much is true, but to pry it out of the Emperor’s grasp will take a little more than convincing words. Noctis may not possess much power now, but the Chosen King has the potential to fell gods one day. We’ll start by felling a nation.“

Now that he put it like that, it sounded like a rather daunting mid-term goal.

„And how do you intend to support us exactly?“ Ignis continued his questioning.

Ardyn smirked at him. „First of all, my authority will grant you access to most places under Imperial lockdown, and I can keep the Empire off your backs for as long as my change of heart remains undiscovered. Besides, you’ll find that I am most difficult to get rid of.“

„Immortal, right,“ Gladio concluded bitterly. „So we basically have no choice but to let you come with us.“

„You can put it that way, if you must, but those are not my words.“

„I’d rather not depend on a double agent,“ Ignis said.

„Neither do I,“ Noctis added and shot Ardyn a glance, „but if he really means to help, he can prove it.“

„You shall not be disappointed,“ Ardyn promised.

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of Noctis’ smartphone. Somehow, it had survived his plunge into the water without any obvious damages. On the other end of the line, Cor, the Marshal, leader of the Crownsguard and mentor to Noctis’ retinue, answered.

„So you made it,“ Cor said. „Where are you?“

„Outside the city. We found someone who might be able to get us back inside.“

„Don’t. You’re not ready for what awaits you. Listen, I’m heading to the Prairie Outpost. Meet me there.“

Before Noctis could respond, he hung up. It was no disrespect from Cor. He simply was no man of many words.

„What did the Marshal say?“ Ignis asked.

„He says I’m not ready to go back to Insomnia. We’re supposed to meet him at the Prairie Outpost.“

„The man’s right,“ Ardyn added, „I can get you to the Citadel with ease, but the opposition along our way is not easily defeated, even with my power. Any magic trick you can add to your repertoire will give us a most needed advantage.“

Chapter Text

The previous evening – The Citadel, Insomnia

Chaos reigned in the hall where the signing of the armistice should have taken place. The battle that had broken out between the council members and the Imperial envoys had left nothing but dead bodies, blood and devastation. Only King Regis and General Glauca were left and still fighting.

Ravus stepped over a dead council member as he approached them. It would not be long before Regis met his end. The King defended himself with a magical shield, but Glauca was smashing it with his great sword faster than it regenerated.

„You already have the Crystal. What more could you want?“ Regis demanded to know.

He was pathetic. Still as much of a coward as he had been the day Ravus’ mother had died. The King’s stay at the manor had prompted the Empire to attack, but instead of defending the Oracle’s family, Regis had taken his miserable son and fled. No other could have stopped the invasion, and he had chosen to flee. Luna often claimed that Ravus’ hatred was misplaced, but the past twelve years had proven him right. Regis had continued to sacrifice entire nations while he, himself, had remained safe behind the Crown City’s Wall.

As predicted, the General broke through Regis’ shield. His blade severed the Ring of the Lucii from the King’s hand, the trinket fell and rolled across the blood-stained floor towards Ravus.

He picked it up and lifted it in front of his eyes. This small, unassuming jewel had been beyond his reach for too long. The fabled and divine magic it held was going to change everything. It would be the key, his key, to becoming the saviour of their Star.

„The Ring of the Lucii,“ Ravus said and turned to Regis with a sinister smirk. „How long have I waited for this moment.“

Ravus’ determination was stronger than ever. With the powers of past Kings stored in the Ring and its ability to channel the Crystal’s magic, he would assume the role of the True King, dispel the darkness and save his sister, as well as everyone doomed by the gods’ prophecy. His birthright, his home and his parents had been lost to the war, but by the Six, Ravus would make sure that his sister lived. Even if he had to sacrifice his own, ill-fated existence for it. He slipped the ring onto a finger of his left hand and, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed one of the King’s Glaives rush into the room and hurl a weapon at the General. The weapon – a kukri knife – spun past Ravus, slower and slower until it came to a halt in mid-air. Looking around, Ravus noticed that everyone but him had stopped moving. Time itself had ground to a halt.

Those had to be the powers of the gods. All of Eos held its breath to listen to none other than him.

„Hear me, O Lucian Kings of Yore,“ he announced. „I am Ravus Nox Fleuret, and none is more worthy than I!“

The space in front of him ripped open and Ravus suddenly found himself in another, otherworldly dimension of stars and nebulae. A gigantic, heavily armoured figure appeared in the distant light. Blades fanned out like wings behind it.

In awe, Ravus held his breath. He had expected to summon the Kings of Yore and their council, but this being was not mortal and had never been. Coming face to face with the Bladekeeper Bahamut surpassed all his aspirations. Even among the Astrals, there was no greater power than him.

Ravus suppressed his awe and quickly regained his composure. The fact that the god had answered in person proved that he was about to receive a new calling. There was no reason for him to be hesitant or wary. With his head held high, Ravus stepped forward.

„Thy call hast been answered, Ravus Nox Fleuret.“ The thundering voice of the god echoed through the void. „Prove to me that thee hast earned the title of the True King, and thee shalt obtain the power to banish the darkness from this star forever.“

After every hardship Ravus had been through, just to obtain the ring, the god actually demanded more of him? „I have the ring in my possession. I am here,“ Ravus argued. „What more must I do?“

„Destroyeth the first Chosen King and the darkness that draws him from his path,“ Bahamut replied. „Through me, thee shalt be granted access to the power of the Crystal and the Kings of Yore, which thee shalt need to vanquish the defiers of fate. Know, however, that all will be in vain shouldst the first Chosen King ascend the throne and fulfil his destiny.“

A fiery determination took root in Ravus’ heart. He was ready to do anything. Only a fool or a coward would back down from the challenge at this point. The Ring of the Lucii burned on his finger. Ravus felt its power bite into his flesh, not painfully, but it was a frightful sensation all the same. He reached out into the nothingness and, in a burst of tiny, immaterial crystals, his trusted Alba Leonis sabre appeared in his hand.

The light of the stars that surrounded him in the otherworldly realm flared and swallowed everything in a blinding light. When it faded away, Ravus found himself back at the Citadel. „I am Ravus Nox Fleuret,“ he repeated to himself, lost in thought. „Commander of the Imperial Army and True King of Lucis.“

Time moved on from one instant to the next. The kukri struck Glauca, and the Glaive warped after it, before following-up with a series of swift strikes from different angles. He landed no noteworthy hit, but kept the General occupied.

At the same time, a blonde woman in a white dress helped the wounded King Regis to flee from the council room.

„Luna?“ Ravus just stood and watched, feeling disconnected from the events around him as though a part of him was still in the other realm and needed to catch up.

With a kick following a warp-strike, the Glaive knocked over Glauca and hurried past Ravus, into the lift, where the King and Luna had been waiting. Just then, Ravus snapped out of his trance.

„Wait! Sister!“

#-#-#

The morning following the treaty signing – Longwythe Rest, Leide

When Luna arrived at the outpost, the events of the previous night still governed her emotions. Even though she knew exactly where to go and what to do next, the invasion of Insomnia was not easily processed and forgotten. Regis was dead and Noctis’ beautiful home lay in ruins. The citizens who had escaped with their lives had been forced to leave their homes behind, and often been separated from their families. Luna had parted ways with Nyx at the city limits and travelled to Leide along with the streams of refugees, and had so far remained blissfully undetected. Even in secret, she gave comfort wherever she could to ease the people’s pain. Her compassion knew no bounds, for war knew no winners.

Hope drove her on, for there was always reason to hope. Noctis had been spared from the invasion thanks to the efforts of Regis and Ardyn – even though the two had never spoken on the matter – and he would be under protection for a while longer due to the news of his death. The fact that the Ring of the Lucii had accepted Ravus as its new bearer was an unexpected twist of fate, but Ardyn had warned her to be prepared for anything to become possible once his rebellion against Bahamut took effect, and chances were Ravus might still return the Ring if she got a proper chance to talk to him.

In the end, however, it was all up to Noctis. Luna’s task was merely to pave the way for him. Ultimately, only he had the possibility to gather the Hexatheon around him, and it was his decision against whom he used it.

Ever since she had spoken to the Chancellor for the first time, Luna had thought much and often about his words. Her own life and Noctis’ appeared to be a small sacrifice by the prophecy in order to rid the world of the Starscourge once and for all. People would never have to live in fear of the night or the disease that gave rise to the daemons ever again. But on the other hand, she wanted to see Noctis live, and the thought of people knowing true independence and peace for the first time without Bahamut’s influence was equally enticing. But could mankind manage on its own to create a cure for the Starscourge before the darkness eclipsed the sun?

Regardless of Noctis’ decision, Luna was ready to support him. She opened the red notebook Umbra had brought back to her earlier.

We left Insomnia a while ago. Can’t wait to see you again. The Chancellor is a royal pain in the neck.

Noctis’ remark amused her a little in these difficult times. „And I’m looking forward to seeing you too,“ she said softly as she closed the book and slid it back under the strap around Umbra’s chest.

One of the doors to the motel rooms at Longwythe Rest opened and a middle-aged woman approached her. „Lady Lunafreya, is it really you? I prayed that you would escape the city alive.“

She looked so distraught. Luna held the woman’s pleading hands. „I thank you very much, but I am currently travelling in secret.“

„I am so sorry, Lady Lunafreya, I really do not wish to impose myself on you, but …“

„What troubles you?“

„It is my husband. I fear for his life, and I had hoped you might ask the gods to take mercy on him.“

Luna suppressed the urge to sigh as best she could. She urgently needed to travel on to the Archaean, but she had never been able to ignore a plea for help, and there were so many in need of help since Insomnia’s fall. „Please do not worry. I will help however I can.“

The woman guided her to the room she was staying at, where a man of about the same age lay on the bed. He was unconscious, but moving restlessly in his sleep. Luna would have expected to find someone who needed a doctor more urgently than divine assistance, as many had been wounded in the battle for Insomnia.

This man, however, showed obvious symptoms of the scourge. Judging by her experience, he had to be in the middle to late stages, and while the healing would not wear her out completely, she would need a bit of rest afterwards.

Luna knelt by his bedside and took one of the man’s hands between hers. His fingers tightened around her palm as though he was unconsciously grasping his last hope of healing. She closed her eyes and turned her thoughts to the gods in prayer. A familiar warmth entered her hands.

„Blessed stars of life and light, deliver us from …“

The warmth faded, but not out of her own will. Something was not right. An unpleasant cold seeped into her fingertips. When she opened her eyes, she saw, with horror, the darkness flow from the man’s body and sink into her hands. It gathered under her skin, in her veins, turning them black and the back of her hand ashen. Something like this had never happened before. The experience alone, while not painful, was immensely frightening.

„It’s a miracle,“ the woman next to Luna uttered in a breath. The man’s firm grip loosened and his breathing grew calm.

Luna, on the other hand, suddenly felt uncomfortable, though she could not tell if it was because of the fear that had sunk deep into the pit of her stomach, or the disease she had absorbed, or both. As she stood up, she rubbed her hands, trying to drive out the numbness and cold, but she also did not want the woman to see that something was wrong.

„Thank you so much, Lady Lunafreya,“ the woman said and bowed before her. „We are forever in your debt.“

„I have merely fulfilled my duty as the Oracle. I would stay to see him wake, but I must urgently continue on my way.“

„Please travel safely,“ the woman said as Luna left the motel room.

In the parking lot outside, Gentiana was already waiting for her. Luna was about to ask her what had just happened, but when she glanced at her hands again, the darkness had disappeared and colour returned to her skin.

Gentiana offered to take her fingers between her own. „In fulfilling her duty, the Lady has become tainted with the scourge,“ she said. „Her powers, originally granted by the Bladekeeper, become a heavier burden to bear. Another vessel for the darkness has been chosen.“

Upon hearing those words, and sensing Gentiana’s sympathy, Luna swallowed hard.

Chapter Text

They were on their way to the Prairie Outpost when an unfamiliar melody cut through the silence in the Regalia. It took Noctis a moment to realise that it was Ardyn’s mobile ringing.

„Excuse me, but I have to take this,“ he said. „Would you mind pulling over for a moment?“

„As a matter of fact, I would,“ Ignis replied. „If you really intend to help us, it shouldn’t be a problem if we listen in.“

„As you wish.“ Ardyn flipped open his mobile and held it up, but kept an unusually great distance between the speaker and his ear.

„Where on Eos have you gone gallivanting off to?“ a man’s voice shouted at him from the other end of the line. „I’ve been trying to get you on the phone for hours.“

„My sincerest apologies. It must have been set to silent,“ Ardyn replied calmly and brought the mobile up to his ear. Noctis sat closely enough behind him to understand the unfamiliar voice even when the man was not shouting.

„You say that every time. I swear, if I don’t find the key to immortality soon, you’ll take me to an early grave. Ardyn, we have a situation in Insomnia.“

„What kind of situation are we talking about?“

„Ravus has the Ring of the Lucii in his possession, and claims to be the True King of Lucis. He had the Crystal brought back to Insomnia before I could take it into custody at Zegnautus Keep. We would have sent Glauca to deal with him, but the General has fallen in the battle for the Crown City. Worse still, half of our infantry thinks Ravus has become the new High Commander due to him being next in line, and I can’t revoke the command rights on the magitek troops under his control. I need you in Insomnia to knock some sense back into him.“

„Is that so? I must say that sounds pretty dangerous.“ Ardyn’s voice was positively dripping with disrespect.

„I thought we both agreed that Niflheim needed the Crystal. We have already used up our strongest units fighting Insomnia’s forces. I wouldn’t call upon you to take action if I had the resources to handle Ravus myself. Now go and do something.“

„Not in that tone of voice, Verstael,“ Ardyn replied firmly. „Besides, even I am powerless in the face of divine intervention. But don’t you worry, I have a plan of my own to reclaim Insomnia.“

„What sort of plan would that be?“

„Sorry, I haven’t got the time to talk. I’ll call you back, all right?“

„Don’t you dare hang up on me, Ardyn!“

Ardyn hung up, and Noctis felt a sense of malicious pleasure at the fact that Ardyn was being equally disrespectful to his superiors in Niflheim.

„Who was that?“ Prompto wanted to know.

„An old acquaintance of mine, trying to pull my strings. Minister Verstael Besithia, head of magiteknological research,“ Ardyn replied. „It looks like the Crystal is still - or rather, again, - in Insomnia. Commander Ravus Nox Fleuret has crowned himself the new King of Lucis.“

„By what right?“ Gladio asked.

„He has dad’s ring,“ Noctis answered for the Chancellor.

„Impossible,“ Ignis said. „Only members of the royal family can wear the ring.“

Ardyn leaned against the passenger window and propped his head up in one hand. „It appears that someone has changed the rules of the game,“ he said thoughtfully.

The Prairie Outpost consisted of a few run-down farmhouses usually serving as a hub for the local hunters. On this particular day, however, refugees from Insomnia had gathered about the area. They appeared to be resting on their journey to one of the towns in Leide or Duscae, even though the outpost provided neither bed nor breakfast and was equipped with only a single floodlight to keep out daemons at night. The Marshal was nowhere to be seen.

Noctis and his companions decided to ask around for any members of the Crownsguard. In the meantime, Ardyn was to remain with the Regalia, since there was a risk that higher ranking members of the Crownsguard knew of his affiliation with Niflheim, and trying to explain the what, why and how was simply not worth the trouble.

„While you’re out on foot, I highly suggest you have a chat with the refugees,“ Ardyn advised Noctis as they disembarked. „At the very least spare some time to listen to them. It will give you a feel for the problems of the common folk, and you might just glean a surprising amount of information.“

„Yes, uncle,“ Noctis replied, annoyed.

„Please don’t call me that.“

It did not take long for them to find a survivor of the Crownsguard. Monica Elshett informed them that Gladio’s sister Iris had been escorted safely out of the city and was on her way to Lestallum. The Marshal was waiting for them at the Royal Tomb nearby. Apart from them, most of the other members of the Crownsguard had fallen in the battle for the city. The more Noctis heard about what had happened in Insomnia, the more his unease grew. Was there anything left of his home?

Just before they left the outpost for the Royal Tomb, Noctis beckoned the Chancellor to follow them. The next time he turned around, however, it was Monica accompanying them.

„Was there anything else?“ Noctis asked.

She blinked in puzzlement.

„That’s not Monica,“ Ignis stated matter-of-factly.

Monica smiled and lifted a non-existent hat in greeting. The air shimmered in the way it did on a hot summer day, and Noctis saw Ardyn behind the illusion.

„What the !?“ Prompto uttered, perplexed.

„Just a precaution, in case the head of the Crownsguard recognises my face.“

Only as long as the shimmer lasted did he hear Ardyn and Monica speaking together. After that, only Monica.

Noctis crossed his arms in front of his chest. „I get it. So that’s why father hadn’t recognised you. Are there any other tricks we should know about?“

„I fear you’ll have to submit a request for clearance first if you desire any more confidential information.“

Ignis walked on, but cast a critical glance back at Ardyn. „A sloppy illusion. I would recognise your gait anywhere.“

„In that case, you shall be surprised to see how many people are fooled by it.“

„You better shut up if you don’t want your cover blown,“ Gladio advised him.

The Royal Tomb came into view by the time they reached the top of the hill. Ancient stonework formed a half circular plateau and a simple, flat building with a curved roof that could only be accessed through an underground passage in the middle of the structure. The time-worn statue of a shrouded figure adorned the entrance. In front of it stood Cor, waiting for Noctis and his retinue.

Noctis had only seen the Royal Tombs in pictures thus far and found the actual monument to be … a lot less awe-inspiring than he had imagined, actually. Given the age of the tomb and its less than scenic view at the edge of Leide’s rocky wasteland, he was not entirely certain what he had expected, either.

„You didn’t have to accompany them here, Monica,“ Cor addressed Ardyn. „I expect the boys to look after themselves. Go back to the outpost.“

„Yeah, stop babysitting us,“ Gladio said as he walked past her – well, him.

As Noctis approached the Marshal, Cor entered the passageway to the inside of the tomb.

„Come.“

With the exception of Ardyn, Noctis and his companions followed him into the burial chamber and gathered around the effigy of the Lucian king „The Wise“ in the middle of the room. The statue sat atop a stone table and held an intricately decorated sword, as was to be expected. According to Lucian history, every ruler of yore had been buried with his or her signature blade, so that future kings or queens might claim the souls of these sacred weapons to strengthen their armiger. In this procedure, the original arm stayed with its owner to remain available even to the next ruler after the current. It was a respectful way to inherit a weapon, too, since it kept the current ruler, namely Noctis, from breaking, losing or giving away a former king’s Royal Arm. Of course, he had never lost a weapon, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.

„I’m sure you’ve heard about Regis’ death,“ Cor said as he stepped closer to the effigy. „As for that … it is true.“

„I had feared as much.“

„I’m surprised at how well you’re taking the news.“

„There has been much for me to process since Insomnia fell,“ Noctis replied. „Besides, I am far more in control of my emotions than you think.“

A smile tugged at the corners of Cor’s mouth. „I’d like to believe it. Noctis, your father prepared you for this day. He believed you would fulfil your destiny. Now it is time for you to claim the arms of the old kings.“

Noctis extended his hand over the hilt of the sword, trying to feel for its magic, calling it to him. A spectral image rose from the original weapon, circled through the air and pierced through his chest. The spectral blade did not hurt, but left a tingle where it had touched him. Normal weapons he absorbed into the armiger felt different, less powerful. He summoned the spectral form of the blade and watched it hover around him for a short while.

„There are 13 Royal Arms known to us, each of which is kept in a Royal Tomb,“ Cor explained. „Not all of them are as easily accessible as this one. We only know the location of a few of them, though. I have enlisted the hunters to comb the land in search of the lost tombs.“

„14,“ Noctis said as a thought struck him. „There are 14 weapons. I know where there might be another one.“

If he surprised Cor with this, the Marshal did not let on. „All the better,“ he said, „there is another tomb near here, at Keycatrich Trench. I suggest you head there next. You will need this to get in.“ He handed a large, ornamented key to Noctis.

„What will you do in the meantime?“ he asked.

Cor turned to leave and Noctis followed him outside. „I’m keeping an eye on the Niffs,“ he replied. „It looks like they’re setting up a blockade west of here.“

Next to one of the pillars marking the way to the tomb, Monica paced up and down.

Cor’s voice took on a stern tone. „What are you still doing here?“

„I have something to discuss with the Prince.“

The Marshal eyed her skeptically. Ardyn’s false identity obviously did not convince him. Admittedly, it would have surprised Noctis had Cor not grown suspicious. He was a legend among the Crownsguard for a reason.

Noctis strode past him, trying to distract him a little. „Keycatrich Trench, right? Leave it to us.“

Cor’s gaze shifted back to him. „Take care of yourselves. I don’t want to lose another king.“ With those words, he left Noctis and his companions to continue travelling on their own.

Noctis approached the Not-Monica, but kept an eye on Cor to make sure he was out of hearing range before he started talking.

„Say, Ardyn, what makes a Royal Arm?“

„Why do you think I’d know the answer to that?“

„Because you’re Lucian royalty of old.“

„You’re thinking of me as a King of Yore? Good gracious, I’m afraid I do not deserve such flattery! Certainly, being chosen and rejected by the Crystal is not enough to warrant that title.“

Seeing and hearing Monica speak, but with Ardyn’s exaggerated intonation, facial expressions and gestures was immensely disconcerting. Noctis was more than glad when Cor had finally vanished from their sight and Ardyn dropped the illusion, reappearing in his usual, somewhat unkempt glory.

„But you know what I’m getting at?“ Noctis kept asking.

„Of course I do. You have just obtained a Royal Arm and now you want to know if it might be possible to use my beloved blade to empower the magic of your armiger.“ The smug smile faded from his face and there was a moment of thoughtful silence between them. „I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let you try. After all, sharing is caring, as they say, and it might save us some time roaming the lands for lost arms.“ With a simple gesture, Ardyn summoned the red long sword Noctis had seen in his memory. Unlike the magic of Noctis and his father, which glowed white to blueish, Ardyn’s had a distinct red hue to it.

Prompto stared at the blade in astonishment. „Holy crap! You really have an armiger of your own!“

„Is this the Blade of the Mystic?“ Ignis asked.

„This is one half of a pair, the Rakshasa Blade.“ He presented the sword to Noctis so he could try to draw an image. „Consider it a gift of goodwill.“

For a moment Noctis wondered about the name, but concluded that it had to be the sword’s original name, just as his favourite weapon was called the „Engine Blade“, but would most likely go down in history as the „Sword of the Chosen“. This train of thought led him to wonder what Ardyn’s title as a King of Yore might have been, had the Founder King not erased all mention of him from the annals of history save for the tale of the monstrous „Adagium“. Knowing what had happened between them, however, Somnus would probably have let him be known as „The Usurper“ or some similar derogatory name. The more he thought about it, the less respect Noctis could muster for the Founder King.

He raised his hand over Ardyn’s sword and called it to him. To his surprise, a spectral copy of it came loose and entered into Noctis’ arsenal as a second, sacred blade. The magic it was imbued with felt no different to that of the Sword of the Wise.

Gladio raised an eyebrow. „That was easy.“

„Isn’t that cheating, actually?“ Prompto asked.

„All’s fair in war,“ Ardyn replied, sending the original back into his armiger.

„You don’t happen to be carrying any more Royal Arms for me to borrow, do you?“ Noctis asked.

„You are slacking off again,“ Gladio reprimanded him.

Ardyn chuckled and spread his arms. Around him, in addition to his own sword, the images of five other weapons appeared, including the Sword of the Wise that Noctis had obtained earlier. „Over the last few decades, I have … paid my respects to some of my brother’s descendants, at least those whose final resting places were discovered by the minister, but I believe I cannot hand the souls of these arms over to you.“ He picked a sword seemingly at random and held it out to Noctis.

Looking back, Noctis should have realised right away that Ardyn might have spent some time collecting Royal Arms just as he was doing now or as Regis had done before him. The only difference was that Noctis had much easier access to the known tombs. There would have been an outcry in all of Lucis had word spread of Niflheim breaking and entering these sacred grounds.

Noctis attempted to take the sword Ardyn offered to him, but his hand passed through its immaterial form. The weapon proved to be equally unresponsive to his call.

„Looks like I’ll have to visit some tombs after all.“

Ardyn smiled in a way that did not bode well. „I don’t mind. I’m still looking for the memorial of my late brother myself, and one can never have too many arms in one’s armiger.“

Chapter Text

M.E. 744 – Primary Magitek Research Facility, Niflheim

Ardyn’s return to Minister Besithia’s primary Magitek research facility had a bitter taste to it, like an insidiously poisoned meal that takes its full effect only after it has been swallowed. The more of the stolen memories faded from Ardyn’s mind, the more he began to reflect on the events of the last two decades, and the less he liked them. This included his stay at the research facility not long after his release from Angelgard. He did not intend to be used by Verstael as easily again, but that was not what his visit was about anyways. He would get his retribution another day.

Ardyn stood in the open doorway to Verstael’s office and announced himself by rapping his knuckles on the doorframe.

The Minister, who was in the process of reorganising some old documents on his desk, turned to face him. His hairline had receded further. New lines of age marked his face. The irregular intervals at which Ardyn was visiting him since his appointment as Chancellor made it seem as though Verstael was ageing in a time-lapse. He hated it because it reminded him of his immortality, a trait exclusive to the accursed monster, not the man. No matter how much Ardyn tried to embrace the darkness within, some small part of him still longed to be human.

„Ardyn. It has been a while.“

„Do you have time to talk right now?“ Ardyn asked. Out of politeness, not out of necessity. It was not as if Verstael could stop him from starting a conversation, even when he was busy.

The Minister cleared some space on his desk and sat down behind it. „I can make time for you.“

„Of course you can.“

Ardyn dropped into one of the visitor’s chairs and lifted his feet onto the edge of the desk. His behaviour was noted by Verstael with an irritated look. „I heard you joined the fleet to Fenestala Manor to oversee operations,“ Verstael mentioned instead. „Seeing how Regis and his son are still alive, I assume you failed to find them.“

„It appears that they have escaped in the chaos and turmoil,“ Ardyn lied effortlessly. „The general overdid it a bit with the bombardment of the manor.“

„But this is not the reason why you came here, am I right?“

Ardyn sat his hat down on a pile of folders and documents. „Would it be possible to kill a god?“

„For you, my friend, anything is possible. Certainly I needn’t remind you that you already have Ifrit under your control?“

„Sometimes, I actually forget that he is bound to answer my call. We don’t exactly talk much.“

There was not much use for a fire god in everyday life, and Ardyn knew Ifrit loathed him for the corruption he had infected him with. It was making their cooperation a little difficult, to say the least. Destruction was usually the only thing they agreed on.

„I thought less of Ifrit and more of Bahamut.“

„So you met Bahamut in Insomnia.“ A smug and sinister smirk spread across Verstael’ features. „Then my theory has been proved correct. For years, I’ve suspected that he might be hiding close to the Crystal. Is that also why I had to go and get you out of Angelgard again ten years ago, and once more, two years after that? I had been starting to think you liked being stuck on that isle.“

Ardyn felt slightly offended by the mere notion. „Certainly not, I can assure you that much.“

„Then what was the reason for your return to Angelgard? A fight gone awry? Have you forced Bahamut’s hand?“

„And what if I have?“ Ardyn replied. His choice of words meant that he was not going to share further details with Verstael willingly, which, of course, was also his way of prompting the Minister to offer something in return.

Verstael retrieved a wine bottle and two glasses from the cupboard behind him. He always tried bribery. Not that Ardyn ever minded. Some of those bottles were the best vintages he had ever tasted. A complete waste on a madman like Verstael, really.

Ardyn took his feet off the table and leaned forward, accidentally touching the stack of documents. His hat fell into the wastebasket next to the desk, along with the topmost documents.

While Verstael poured for them both, he retrieved the Fedora. Underneath lay a half-crumpled lab report, of which a phrase immediately caught his eye: „observed an unexpected decrease in the concentration of plasmodia in the test solution“.

He heard the Minister slide a glass across the table towards him and reacted almost instinctively, making the discarded piece of paper disappear into his armiger with a flick of his wrist. As if nothing had happened, he put his hat back on the pile, took the glass and raised it to Verstael, smiling.

„Let us have a look at the facts,“ Verstael said, taking a sip. „Bahamut is the god of war. If we are to believe the stories, he may very well be the strongest god in the Hexatheon. He has found a way to hide himself from the world, and he has, apparently, banished you from Insomnia more than once. Since you have gone specifically after Regis, we can safely assume that Bahamut protects the kings of Lucis.“

„Tell me something new,“ Ardyn prompted him.

„Why not daemonify him just as you did with Ifrit?“

„Because of his armour, many blades, and, most importantly, his ability to send me back to just about any place on Eos.“

Verstael thought about this for a few seconds. In the meantime, Ardyn emptied his glass and let him top it up again.

„If my research into the use of daemonic energy as a foundation for Magitek armour and engines continues unabated, I am confident that Niflheim will soon be able to defeat lesser gods without your help. If nothing else, I have not given up hope that Solheim has already been researching weapons to fight the gods with. When we’re ready to take Insomnia, we’ll see if Bahamut can withstand an entire army.“

„I don’t think he cares enough about Insomnia to reveal himself during an invasion. Did you see the destruction I caused ten years ago?“

„It makes no difference. If Insomnia falls, the royal family will fall with it. He will be forced to intervene lest they be killed.“

„I get the feeling you underestimate the Draconian’s power.“

„Not at all. I merely hope for your support. The Starscourge is tailor-made to fight the gods with. We may not be ready to defeat a god like Bahamut today, but we will be eventually.“

Ardyn groaned in exasperation. „Eventually!“ he repeated. „Eventually is an empty promise.“

„Patience, Ardyn,“ Verstael said. „I don’t have unlimited resources, nor unlimited knowledge. Let us hope that I will live long enough to have researched all that remains to be researched.“

With a heavy sigh, Ardyn rose from his chair and began to pace about the room. Though he did not know what answer he had hoped for, this was not it. His eyes fell on a black and white copy of the ancient painting that showed the True King, the Oracle and the darkness. „What about the prophecy?“ he asked.

„An abrupt change of subject,“ Verstael observed.

For Ardyn, however, the mental leap from Bahamut to the prophecy was never far.

„Prophecies are for the people of Lucis,“ Verstael declared with conviction. „We in Niflheim forge our own fate. Why do you ask? Are you afraid the True King will defeat you?“

That helpless little boy? The thought made Ardyn chuckle. „Hardly. I was merely wondering what would become of Eos if the Starscourge spreads unchecked.“

„Are you feeling quite alright?“ Verstael raised an eyebrow in disbelief. „You didn’t grow a conscience all of a sudden, did you?“

„What? No! Not at all!“ Ardyn replied, feigning offence. „I am merely contemplating some theories regarding our star’s future.“

„Our star faces a glorious future, once we stop seeing the Starscourge as a threat. It is perhaps the greatest opportunity for mankind to evolve. You are the best example that we can achieve immortality and unimaginable powers through it.“

„I assure you, being immortal is nowhere near as great as they make it out to be.“

„You’ve already told me that, Ardyn. Several times, in fact. And if I’d been locked away for 2000 years, I’d probably feel the same way. In the future, however, immortality will allow us to achieve all that a single human life is too short for.“

Ardyn dismissed the idea of asking him about the lab report. Verstael clearly wanted to get rid of any information that might hinder the use or spread of the scourge, and Ardyn did not want him to check whether said document was still in the wastebasket. „I’d be surprised if Aldercapt was not interested in immortality himself. Let me see if I can’t squeeze some more financial support out of him.“ He put his hat back on and moved towards the door.

„You know, I’d appreciate it if you still contributed to my research every once in a while, too.“

„Too bad I’m in such popular demand, then. The work of a Chancellor is very time-consuming.“ Ardyn grinned. „I believe I can make time for you on February the 30th, however.“

„If you are trying to fool me, at least put some effort into it.“

On his way out of the research facility, Ardyn called the document back into his hands and smoothed it out. Verstael’s choice of words was unmistakable. Unfortunately, he understood only some of the technical terms, but even with his limited knowledge, he was relatively certain that the Minister described the unintended side-effect of an experiment in which the plasmodium was destroyed instead of cultivated. This meant that there might be a way to treat the Starscourge medically, and that in turn made the entire prophecy and all its sacrifices pointless.

The thought was overwhelming. This paper proved that mankind was not at the mercy of the gods. Bahamut’s machinations served no other purpose but to entertain the Draconian himself, or worse, to keep men from freeing themselves from the Astral’s influence. Furthermore, this meant Ardyn had a lot more potential allies than he ever imagined. Everyone affected by the prophecy was toyed with by Bahamut - sacrificial lambs led to the slaughter, all of them.

And yes, this included Regis’ kid, whose life Ardyn had saved on a mere whim.

For the first time in decades, perhaps eons even, he felt a flicker of hope within his blackened heart. He hated the Draconian with a passion that was barely outmatched by the hatred for his brother. Every time he had tried to infiltrate Insomnia and kill Somnus’ descendants, Bahamut had made him feel like a pawn on a chess board, putting him back into his place. Every time, it had fuelled his anger, but the Draconian’s power had made it seem like the Astral was untouchable. Ardyn never even considered taking up the fight against the old dragon until recently, yet now, if he could only trick the Chosen King and the Oracle into defying the prophecy, a world of possibilities opened up before him.

Times were about to change.

Chapter Text

The Regalia rolled slowly towards the gate of the Imperial blockade between Leide and Duscae, the driver’s side window rolled down and Ardyn stuck his arm out.

„Hello there!“ he called out, waving at the magitek soldiers on top of the rampart. „It’s me, your beloved Chancellor! Would you be so kind as to open up?“

Noctis strained to get a glimpse out the back window of the Regalia without letting himself be seen. A young man in military armour stepped out from behind the magitek troopers. Seemingly reluctant, he gave the order to open the gates and waved the Chancellor through.

„Thank you very much!“ Ardyn exclaimed.

With him at the steering wheel, no one bothered to check the Regalia for Lucian fugitives. Still, Noctis sighed in relief when they were out of sight of the Imperial forces and the car’s top folded back down. He had begun to feel a little cramped in the back seat after all.

As soon as they left Leide behind, the landscape around them shifted. Dry grasslands, red rocks and gnarly trees gave way to the lush green meadows and dark forests of Duscae.

„We can take my car from Lestallum,“ Ardyn suggested whilst casually steering the Regalia with one hand. „I daresay she’s a little less conspicuous than your luxury automobile.“

Ignis, who had previously changed seats with Ardyn, pointed at the outpost on the side of the road ahead. „Let’s pull over at the Coernix Oil station. I shall drive us the rest of the way.“

„But of course.“

They stopped at the petrol station and Noctis seized the opportunity to refuel the Regalia. Meanwhile, his friends scattered to check out the store and the surrounding area. He was just closing the fuel cap when Prompto ran up to him, grinning excitedly.

„Hey, Noct! Did you see the sign? Chocobo Wiz Post?“ His eyes darted over to a billboard sign showing a big, yellow bird. „Think we can make a quick detour there?“

Noctis rubbed his neck, not sure if they had the capacity for any distractions. „I dunno. Ardyn said Luna travelled ahead to rouse the Archaean or something, and we were going to check up on Gladio’s sister Iris at Lestallum,“ Noctis argued. „Also, Cor wanted me to stay on the lookout for more royal tombs.“ So, basically, they had more than enough to do. Still, Noctis understood Prompto’s excitement. This was their first chance to see real, live Chocobos. Not just sports mascots or plushies or statues, like they had in Insomnia.

„C’mon,“ Prompto begged. „Lestallum is still miles away, and Luna can’t meet up with us anyway, right? Not with the Imperials at our heels. Just lemme pet ’em once. It won’t take long.“

Having gotten curious, Ardyn walked up to them. „What’s his problem?“

„Chocobos,“ Noctis replied.

Prompto was all smiles. „What’s not to love about ’em? They’re big, and they’re fluffy, and, like, people can ride ’em, which is awesome!“

„Do you take a stuffed bird to bed with you as well?“ Ardyn teased him.

„Do not!“

„Don’t listen to him, Prompto,“ Gladio said. „He’s just messing with ya.“

„Why is it always me? You nearly scared me to death back at Keycatrich Trench.“

For a moment, Ardyn pretended to think about the answer. „There’s just something so … detestable about your face.“

„Cut it out, you two,“ Noctis intervened.

„But he started it,“ Prompto complained meekly.

Noctis opened the driver’s door. He had decided to drive the short distance to the Chocobo Wiz Post himself. Let them have some fun, and more importantly, keep Ardyn from having things his way for once. „Alright, let’s make a quick detour. It’s not like Iris or the Archaean are going anywhere.“

Prompto pumped a fist in the air. „Woohoo! Chocobos, here we come!“

„I have a feeling this is going to be a great waste of time,“ Ardyn said. „Is this detour truly necessary?“

„Yes, it is,“ Noctis insisted. „Get in.“

Ardyn sighed theatrically. „My suffering knows no end.“

The drive to the Chocobo Wiz Post took less than five minutes. The Post was a small ranch located a little to the side of the road, in the middle of one of Duscae’s many forests. To Prompto’s great disappointment, not a single one of the big birds was out in the enclosure when they arrived. The rental post had closed as well. Only the restaurant and the souvenir shop were open. When asked, the owner of the ranch, a man by the name of Wiz Forlane, told them that they could not let the Chocobos out of the stable because of an especially ill-tempered Behemoth, a type of beast known far and wide for its size and power. The Behemoth had made the nearby Mistwood its new territory and was terrifying Chocobos and farmers alike. Many hunters had already taken on the problem, but all of them had returned unsuccessful and wounded so far. They had nicknamed the beast „Deadeye“.

„You heard him,“ Ardyn said as they sat together at one of the bistro’s tables. „There’s nothing for us to do here. Why, at this time, we could be facing a god.“

„What’s the hurry?“ Noctis objected. „Weren’t you the one who told me to look out for the common folk? If we defeat the Behemoth, everyone will benefit.“

„Farmers, hunters, the rental service …“ Ignis said.

„And the Chocobos, of course!“ Prompto added.

„If you’re only half as strong as your powers suggest, hunting will be a breeze with your help,“ Gladio mentioned. „Let’s see how serious you truly are about wanting to support us.“

„And don’t go telling us you could not fight. We know you can,“ Noctis added before Ardyn could open his mouth to utter some lazy excuse.

He gasped. „Busted already?“

„Don’t be a spoilsport, Ardyn,“ Prompto demanded. „Help us out here!“

In the face of such opposition, the Chancellor gave in. „Very well, I yield. We’ll have it your way.“

Finding the Behemoth proved to be no challenge. They had hardly left the Chocobo Wiz Post when the monster announced itself in the distance with loud growls and stomping footsteps. Its trail of devastation was impossible to miss. Where it had made its way through the forest, trees lay bent like straws. Noctis and his companions followed Deadeye at a safe distance deep into the misty woods, past rocks and old ruins. In places they managed to get within sight of the purple skinned, four-legged beast, but the mist hung so thick between the trees that even the monstrous Behemoth threatened to disappear into it time and again.

Ignis took Noctis aside and asked him not to take any unnecessary risks. The monster appeared to be on its way back to its lair. If they tracked it to there, they could attack it while it slept. Noctis signalled the others to fall back so as not to attract the monster’s attention.

As Noctis worked his way from rock to rock, he came closer and closer to the Behemoth. The work of previous hunters had left its face scarred. As its name had already suggested, scar tissue ran over one eye. In addition, one half of a horn was missing. The old wounds, however, did not make the Behemoth any less frightening to look at. Even when it disappeared into the mist, its muscular silhouette, larger than any car, gave a hint of its destructive power. Noctis felt the growl of the beast resonate in his bones. Adrenalin rushed through his veins and the tension in the air became almost palpable. Although the Behemoth did not stop, the way to its lair seemed to take forever. Again and again Noctis lost sight of his companions, which made him all the more nervous.

Only Ardyn remained more or less constantly near him. Thanks to his ability to dissolve into miasma at will, he moved silently and swiftly. „What an atmosphere,“ he whispered, grinning excitedly after he had caught up to Noctis once again. „Let us hope the beast puts up a decent fight as well.“

Behind them, the crack of a dry twig echoed through the forest. Noctis thought he heard the muffled voices of Prompto and Gladio. The Behemoth turned unexpectedly around, raised its head, and from one moment to the next pounced at the source of the sound.

„Prompto, don’t!“ Ignis shouted.

„Too late,“ Ardyn said.

Somewhere in the mist sounded the rustling of dry leaves, frantic footsteps and the roar of the monster. In fear for his friend, Noctis threw his sword at the beast’s back.

#-#-#

Gladio may have stepped on the branch, but it was Prompto who lost his nerves. One moment there had been a wall of mist in front of them, the next a snarling Behemoth lunged at their faces. Gladio’s and Ignis’ words faded unheard in the mist as Prompto bolted headlong. The snorting, growling and stomping of the monster was close behind him. Mortal fear drove him to run faster. His firearms were useless at this range. He was going to end up as the Behemoth’s next meal!

Just as suddenly as the monster had appeared, Prompto felt a hand on his back. The Chancellor ran alongside him. „Put your head down!“ he ordered Prompto.

The sound of jaws snapping shut sounded right behind them. Prompto felt the breath of the beast on his neck just before he fell. He did not know if he had tripped over roots or if Ardyn had pushed him, only that he suddenly found himself on the forest floor. With presence of mind, he rolled onto his back. Above of him, the Behemoth’s claws tore through Ardyn’s form. He staggered, but managed to stay on his feet. Past him and the monster, Prompto made out the silhouette of Gladio, who struck the Behemoth’s hind leg with his great sword.

Deadeye threw himself around with a roar, causing the monster’s tail to whip past Prompto. Ardyn dodged the blow by throwing his signature red long sword and warping after it.

Breathless, Prompto struggled back to his feet. His body still trembled.

Out of the mist, Ignis came running towards him and grabbed his hand to help him up. „You mustn’t run away from a predator, Prompto,“ he admonished him.

„Y-yes,“ Prompto brought out. „I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.“

„This is not the time to be sorry. Focus.“ Ignis’ calmness and reassurance helped Prompto regain his composure.

„Y-yes!“ he replied and drew his handgun.

#-#-#

The fog made the fight against the Behemoth immensely difficult. It was impossible for Noctis to throw his sword accurately at a distance, and the monster was so large that his blade mostly just cut into its legs. He dodged a bite from the beast as gunshots hit the side of the Behemoth’s face. Deadeye was driven back a bit, but only a moment later it swiped at them again with its claws.

Gladio intercepted the attack with his shield, but the force of the blow threw him off his feet.

With a well-aimed dagger throw, Ignis struck the monster’s blind eye and stopped it from following up.

„How are we?“ he called to Noctis.

„Been better.“

Noctis got the impression they had bitten off more than they could chew with this job.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ardyn’s red sword spiralling through the air. By warping, Ardyn reappeared above of the Behemoth and stabbed his sword in between the monster’s shoulder blades. Deadeye threw himself around snarling and snapping, but Ardyn held fast on to the hilt of his sword and placed a hand on the Behemoth’s body. Starting from his palm, black veins spread over the Behemoth’s muscles. In pain, the monster began to flail.

Noctis drew back further. Before his eyes, the monster transformed into a creature that could only have sprung from a nightmare. The Behemoth was not simply afflicted by the Starscourge. Under Ardyn’s influence, the monster’s eyes began to glow yellow, a black liquid dripped from its open mouth, its horns and spikes grew and branched in an unnatural way. Individual miasma particles detached themselves from the monster’s form. The more vehemently Deadeye struggled, however, the harder it became for Ardyn to stay on its back. This did not stop Gladio from cutting off the freshly regrown horn with his great sword. Deadeye reared back, Ardyn eventually lost his grip and was thrown off.

The monster squirmed under the burning rays of sunlight, sparse as they were through the mist. Fortunately for Noct and his companions, it fled instead of continuing the fight against them in its new, daemonic form.

„What the hell was that?“ Gladio shouted.

„The Behemoth has turned into some kind of half-daemon,“ Noctis tried to explain.

Ardyn stood up from the fallen leaves and patted his clothes off. „To my defence; If I would have been allowed to complete the daemonification, it would have dissolved into miasma.“

„But it did not,“ Ignis said with an unusually angry undertone to his voice. „Instead, we have an even more dangerous monster roaming about, and the sun is already setting.“

„Well done,“ Gladio commented. „The farmers will be pleased.“

„Please, spare me your sarcasm! You were the one who interrupted the process.“

Admittedly, the hunt had gone wrong. Very wrong. But if Noctis had learned anything over the course of his training, then that it was no use dwelling on mistakes and accusations. There was still a way to fix the problem. „We have to go after Deadeye,“ Noctis decided and marched forward to follow the creature’s tracks, but Gladio stepped in his way.

„And how do you intend to defeat a daemon of this size?“

Ignis sighed and adjusted his glasses. „I see only one feasible tactic; By attacking it from a haven.“

„Not as if it would willingly come close to one,“ Gladio objected.

„The Behemoth will come to us,“ Ardyn promised, „It holds a deep grudge against hunters. The Starscourge did not plant the seeds of hatred, but it certainly helped them grow.“

Prompto did not look eager to go after the monster. „Oh man. It’s like the second phase of a boss fight.“

„Only much more real,“ Noctis added. „Let’s do it.“

Chapter Text

They followed the tracks of the nightmarish Behemoth until the sun had completely disappeared beyond the horizon. Only then, they veered from the creature’s path of destruction and sought out the nearest haven. The daemon was to find them as quickly as possible once it began its prowl, so that it would not attack the nearby farmhouses or the Chocobo Wiz Post instead. Under the protection of the white to blueish glowing runes, they mentally prepared for the battle ahead.

„Are you going to be alright down there?“ Noctis asked Ardyn, who had not yet dared to approach the runes.

„Your concern is most touching, but I fear the haven will do me more harm than the Behemoth ever could.“

„Proves he’s a daemon himself,“ Gladio muttered.

„So what of it?“ Noctis retorted.

Ignis walked over to Prompto, who was checking his ammunition. „How are you?“

„As ready as I’ll ever be,“ Prompto replied with confidence.

„Remember; we use a hit and run strategy. As long as you stay in the haven, you will be fine.“

Perhaps it was because of some soothing effect of the haven that, despite the darkness and the impending battle, there was less tension among Noctis’ comrades than before. Or perhaps it was simply because they were not stalking a murderous shadow with bated breath in the mist.

As if on cue, the sound of a tree falling erupted from the forest. Noctis saw the yellow glowing eyes of the Behemoth before the rest of its nightmarishly distorted form emerged from the shadows.

„Is it just me, or has it grown bigger?“Gladio asked, shouldering his great sword.

Ignis called a dagger into his hand. „I reckon that’s what happens to daemonified monsters.“

With slow, menacing steps, the Behemoth approached the haven. Black liquid dripped from its fangs. More crooked horns and spikes had formed along its spine. The monster’s eyes seemed to move in twitching movements independently of each other.

Prompto gulped. „Disturbing.“

„Oh yeah,“ Noctis agreed.

Due to him standing outside of the haven, Ardyn was closest to the monster. He stepped in front of the Behemoth and held out his arms as if to create a barrier. „Hear me, O daemon! I am the Adagium, prophesied bringer of the scourge! Obey the command of your maker and halt!“

His theatrical display did nothing to impress the Behemoth. It leapt over him without sparing him any attention.

„So much power and yet so little recognition,“ Noctis heard Ardyn say with a sigh, just before a multitude of red translucent swords from Ardyn’s armiger struck the Behemoth from behind.

His attack did not go unnoticed. The beast threw itself around and finally engaged the Chancellor.

„That’s our cue,“ Ignis said and sprinted forward, closely followed by Gladio. „On to round two.“

Prompto began to shoot at the daemon from a safe distance and Noctis threw the Engine Blade at the Behemoth.

He landed a hit or two mid-air, dropped back down, retreated to the haven and warped again. Not only was he able to recover for a moment, the greater the distance, the more force he could put behind his warp-strikes. Gladio and Ignis pursued a similar strategy of hit and run, but since they were not able to warp like he could, they stayed closer to the outermost runes. In the meantime, Ardyn kept the monster from retreating whenever it strayed too far from the haven, but remained mostly passive otherwise.

Every time the Behemoth Daemon accidentally stepped onto the sacred ground, lights rose from the runes like glowing orbs and shot towards the monster. A few times they were able to utilize the haven’s divine assistance before the Behemoth kept a minimum distance from the runes.

Ignis’ strategy was quickly becoming increasingly harder to pull off. To keep the Behemoth occupied, Gladio remained outside of the haven, but Noctis saw him on the defensive more and more frequently. The Prince had to expose himself to the danger for increasingly longer periods of time as well, simply because of the added distance between the edge of the haven and the monster.

The Behemoth Daemon was a ruthless opponent. Bigger and stronger than its normal counterpart, and on top of that, a venomous black liquid dripped from its jaws. The Starscourge. Noctis dodged the teeth and claws as the monster snapped and swiped at him, but was knocked down by one of its horns. Lying on the ground, he shattered a potion with the power of the armiger to quickly heal his bloody scrapes.

At the same time, Gladio positioned himself next to him. He rammed his great shield into the monster’s open mouth as it snapped at them again. Under the supernatural force of its jaws, the metal threatened to bend.

„Move aside, Noct!“ Gladio shouted.

At the last moment, Noctis scrambled to safety before Gladio dismissed the shield and leapt to the side. The Behemoth’s teeth narrowly missed them. Bullets hitting the daemon’s eyes forced it back, at least for the time being.

„I don’t know how much longer we can take this,“ Gladio said, panting.

„We have to keep trying,“ Noctis replied with determination. Exhaustion, both physical and magical, was gnawing at him. He had to get back to the haven and recover some of his strength. With effort, Noctis was walking up the incline towards the runes when he heard a crash behind him. The Behemoth had swept Gladio aside and was coming after Noctis again.

„Crap!“ The runes were still too far away. Until the stasis wore off and his magic recovered, he could not phase out of the way, either. Noctis sprinted forwards, but had not yet reached the haven when Ardyn suddenly materialised by his side, put an arm around his shoulders and spun with him out of danger. Noctis saw the beast’s massive paw smashing down where they had just been standing. In a fluid motion, Ardyn released Noctis, summoned his long sword and faced the Behemoth.

„Thanks,“ Noctis uttered, somewhat baffled that the Chancellor had saved him from a severe injury.

The Behemoth growled at them in frustration.

„Please, save your gratitude for another,“ Ardyn said with his eyes fixed on the monster. „A dead king is of no use to anyone.“ He lunged to throw his sword as the Behemoth caught him with a sweep of its horns and flung him into the haven. The Rakshasa Blade disappeared in a red flash the moment it fell from his hand. Ardyn landed past Prompto, dead centre amidst the runes.

„Ardyn!“ Prompto stepped towards him, but the runes flared up before anyone could have prevented it. Blinded by the light, Prompto stumbled all the way to the edge of the haven.

The haven reacted to Ardyn as if to a most unwelcome intruder. Lights rose from all the runes simultaneously before the sacred place, with all its stored power, leapt at Ardyn’s inherent darkness. Arcs of light shot into his body and dark energy poured out of him back into the runes. Black clouds spread across the haven’s grounds. Somewhere in this raging storm of light and darkness, Ardyn screamed in pain.

Noctis made an attempt to approach the haven, but the energy was too strong. Going in there would be suicide.

„Noct!“ Ignis pointed at the Behemoth.

The haven’s bright discharge was so powerful that the daemon could not withstand it. Roaring and yelping, its body dissolved into miasma.

The battle between light and dark culminated in a glaringly bright explosion that stung Noctis’ eyes even through his held-out hand. For a couple of seconds, he saw barely more than dancing lights. His vision returned slowly. The Behemoth was gone, the dark of night had overtaken the haven, and its runes were no longer glowing softly, as if they had been drained of all power. Only the dim glow of the stars and the clip-on light on Noctis’ jacket illuminated his surroundings.

Its faint glow revealed Ardyn standing up again with great effort.

He was struggling to stay on his feet, and Noctis was about to walk up to him when he noticed black miasma and purple fumes rising from his form. Although he kept his head low, his eyes stood out like two amber orbs amidst the sea of inky blackness that ran down his face. The sight of him was unsettling, even more than the signs of his severe infection Noctis had seen in the chasm at the border of Leide.

„Enough already!“ Ardyn shouted in a distorted voice and threw a fist at an invisible foe, stumbling forwards. „Why must I continue to suffer!?“

„Ardyn, it’s just us!“ Prompto shouted, yet only managed to capture his attention.

Gladio shifted into a fighting stance once more. „Out of the frying pan,“ he mumbled.

Noctis signalled him to stay back even though he was probably just as tense. „C’mon, Ardyn,“ he said through clenched teeth. Perhaps it was but a mere glimmer of hope that the Accursed would snap out of it himself, but to be allies instead of adversaries had been his suggestion.

Ardyn’s face turned into a hate-filled grimace. His breathing, however, sounded strained. At first, it looked as if he was still about to attack them with his bare fists or dark magic, but when he took a step towards them, his legs gave out and he collapsed, exhausted. The miasma surrounding him faded.

„Is he dead?“ Gladio asked. He was the first and only one to join Noctis when he dared to check on Ardyn’s unmoving form.

Gladio nudged the Chancellor with a boot. No reaction.

„Unconscious,“ Noctis noted.

„Guess nothing kills him that easily, huh?“

Together, they turned the Chancellor on his back. The black smears were fading from Ardyn’s face, albeit very slowly.

#-#-#

„Yeah, but why me? I mean, with Noctis being the True King and all that.“

„Maybe your face isn’t so detestable after all.“

Prompto’s and Gladio’s voices drifted over from somewhere nearby. The smell of roasted meat and spices hung in the air. Someone was chopping vegetables.

„What are you cooking, Iggy?“

„If you can wait another moment, I’ll let you taste it.“

„No rush, but all this fighting’s made me kinda hungry.“

Ardyn opened his eyes. He found himself lying on the hard ground of the haven and looking up at the night sky with its myriad, pale glowing stars. He was alive. Still alive. It should no longer come as a surprise to him, yet somehow, it did.

„It seems our escort is coming around,“ Ignis said.

Ardyn felt too drained to even think about sitting up. „What happened?“

"The haven did quite a number on you," Noctis explained briefly.

„To be precise,“ Ignis continued, „your contact with the haven caused a massive discharge which vanquished all daemons in the vicinity. It appears the haven has lost all of its sacred energy, however.“

Ardyn sighed and closed his eyes. The searing pain the light had caused him was still fresh in his memory, but he could only guess what had happened afterwards. When the light burned away his thoughts, emotions and memories, not much remained of him but anger and confusion, further amplified by the Starscourge and its darkness. The result was never pretty. By the time he recovered he had usually destroyed something or killed someone. Because that was all his powers were good for. Fate had truly condemned him to the role of villain. It was tempting to just submit to it, sometimes, but he refused to give Bahamut that kind of satisfaction.

Somewhere at the edge of his perception, he registered chairs being moved and steps approaching him.

When Ardyn opened his eyes again, Noctis and Prompto were looking down on him. The Prince offered him a hand, and this gesture alone triggered a feeling in Ardyn he did not know how to place. Some kind of forgotten emotion filled a hole which he had not known existed until then. No one had shown him any compassion since Somnus had branded him a monster. Not Verstael, not Aldercapt, and especially not the gods. Everyone had only ever been interested in his well being for their own selfish reasons. And Noctis and his friends … Were they just mocking him?

„Could this be … pity?“ he asked skeptically.

„You can also stay there if you want“, Noctis said, shrugging, and Ardyn was willing to believe that this was all there was to it. No bribing. No lies. He was merely offering his help. Even though he possessed Somnus’ features, he and Ardyn’s brother could not have been more different. Oddly enough, it was mostly the same with Prompto and his likeness to the young Verstael.

Ardyn took Noctis’ hand, and let him and his friend help him to his feet.

Although the white to blueish glow of the haven’s runes had died, Noctis’ entourage had still set up their camping equipment as usual. Four chairs stood around the campfire, of which one was occupied by Gladio. Ignis was preparing a midnight meal for them at a nearby table.

Ardyn followed Noctis and Prompto and sat down in one of the remaining chairs.

„Welcome back among the living,“ Gladio said.

Noctis groaned as he dropped into another chair. „I could fall asleep right here!“

Ignis handed him a plate. „You can stay awake long enough for dinner.“

To Ardyn’s surprise, the Royal Advisor offered him a serving as well. „How about a plate of beef and beet bouillon, Chancellor? There is enough for all of us.“

The dish consisted of a steaming, red tinged broth with generous pieces of meat and vegetables. It was simple, yet had been prepared with expertise and passion. Even so, Ardyn hesitated for a moment before accepting it. He did not know what to say. More than once, he had tried to make a habit of eating again, yet it had not felt right, sitting either by himself or with others who were merely looking to gain his favour. So many times he had drunk wine with Verstael and made him believe they were working towards a common goal.

But Noctis and his friends were different, in a plain, honest and kind way. More emotions welled up in him which he had believed to be long lost and forgotten. Ardyn rubbed at his eyes.

„You alright over there?“ Noctis asked.

„It’s just the onions.“

„There are no onions in the dish,“ Ignis clarified.

Fortunately, Ardyn regained his composure quickly. „Did I say onions? I meant beetroot.“

Gladio smirked. „For the king of daemons, or whatever you’re supposed to be, you’re pretty pathetic.“

„Oh, do shut up,“ Ardyn said, too exhausted to come up with a clever response. It caused Prompto to chuckle, anyway.

„Were you able to take any photos in battle, Prompto?“ Noctis asked.

„Wait a minute, let me check.“ He took out his SLR camera and showed some of his most recent snapshots around.

„Hey, not bad. You should become a nature photographer.“

„Honestly? I’d rather not get that close to a Behemoth’s teeth again.“

„Lemme see. What else you got?“

„Look at that. If it isn’t yours truly.“

„If you’d rather not be in pictures …“

„Oh, no. I don’t mind. I’m sure they’ll be a lovely addition to your scrap book.“

For once, Ardyn truly enjoyed the company.

Chapter Text

Once again, Noctis and his odd companions sat in the Regalia, the rear of which had been decorated with a bright yellow Chocobo sticker, a recently bought souvenir from the Chocobo Wiz Post. They were still on their way to Lestallum, albeit the distance had grown significantly shorter over the last hour.

Things are looking up for the local farmers: Hunter HQ reported this morning that Deadeye, the ferocious Behemoth that had been prowling these parts of late, was slain by some of their finest.

“Did you get that?” Prompto leaned forward to turn up the Regalia's radio. “They're talking about us.”

Wiz Forlane, owner of the Chocobo Wiz Post, wishes to express gratitude on behalf of the birds, both wild and tame, as well as himself and his employees. “With Deadeye out there, we were close to givin' up shop, but now we can finally operate again.”

“Thank the Six they have no clue just how bad that fight went,” Gladio said.

Upon hearing the news, Noctis felt an unfamiliar kind of pride. To think that these people were grateful enough to issue a public announcement, and not just because he was royalty, made him glad they had taken on the challenge. Was that how it felt to be a king in service to his people?

Over the past years, Regis' duties had barely extended beyond maintaining the Wall, attending strategic meetings and occasionally showing himself at an opening ceremony. Although he had told Noctis of the travels he had undertaken when he was young, Noctis had never quite been able to picture his father on a road trip.

The world was certainly different outside of Insomnia's walls, and sometimes it felt like everything Noctis had learned in order to succeed his father was nowhere near enough. Sighing quietly, Noctis stood up in the still moving car and lifted himself onto the headrest of the back seat to feel the wind and sunshine on his skin for a while.

When he leaned back on the Regalia's trunk, Ardyn shot him a glance. With a mix of shock and surprise in his expression, he then eyed Prompto, Gladio and Ignis, giving the latter an especially questioning look. “Excuse me? Are you seeing this?”

“What are you talking about?” Gladio asked and shut the book he had just begun reading.

“I believe he is referring to Noct's behaviour,” Ignis clarified.

“Correct me if I am mistaken, but isn't it your primary duty to protect the young prince? Why would any of you allow this? Surely, you have realised that his Highness will go overboard as soon as you need to avoid hitting a stray Mesmenir on the road.”

Ignis looked at Noctis through the back mirror. “This is less a matter of allowance and more a matter of a mutual disagreement.”

“Yeah, we've had the odd discussion,” Noctis added. “What do you care, Ardyn? You're not my retainer.”

“Oh, please, by all means, stay where you are,” he said and turned back to face the road. “If you tumble off the car and end up as a bloody stain on the asphalt, you'll go down in history not only as the last king of Lucis, but also as the one to die the dumbest death. It will bring Somnus' legacy to a most fitting end.”

Noctis winced at the image. Now that was taking it a bit too far. “Sheesh, Ardyn. No need to get insulting.”

“I thought you wanted to hear the truth from me more often.”

Reluctantly, Noctis slid back onto the car's seat. Anything just to stop Ardyn from arguing with him.

Gladio raised an eyebrow at him. “That worked.”

“Perhaps I shall be more direct with you the next time we come to a disagreement,” Ignis concluded.

“Perhaps I shall have you arrested for conspiring with the enemy.”

“He doesn't mean it,” Ardyn said.

“Naturally,” Ignis agreed.

Lestallum was a very different city compared to any other Noctis had been to thus far. It was not particularly clean or pretty, but it had that industrial charm of a city of workers. The cityscape was dominated by the crater in its north, where a particularly large shard of the meteor had fallen. The same meteor that the Infernian had summoned to destroy Eos with during the War of the Astrals, and that was still there and burning in the centre of the Disc of Cauthess today. Eons later, its flames were burning as strong as ever. Even the shards that had broken off from the meteor still emitted such a heat that people had build a power plant around the largest shard to harvest its energy, and that was how Lestallum had been founded.

So much for what Noctis knew from history class. No one had told him, though, that the meteor shard had also turned Lestallum into one of the hottest places on Eos. If he was to rank locations by temperature, Noctis imagined that the city made third place right after the Rock of Ravatogh volcano in Cleigne and Leide's dry wasteland during daytime. Thankfully, Ignis parked the Regalia at the outlook in the south of Lestallum, where a light breeze blew in from the Taelpar Crag canyon. The outlook offered a perfect view past the canyon and the green valleys of Duscae, all the way to the ever-burning meteor.

From the car park, Noctis and his companions set out to meet Gladio's sister Iris and the retainers of the Amicita family, Jared and Talcott Hester, at the Leville hotel. They were greeted by quite a number of random passer-bys as they passed the food stalls and restaurants on the main street. The unusual friendliness of the people at Lestallum took some getting used to for Noctis.

Their destination for the day, the Leville, sat in a corner of the city, past a small plaza with a fountain made of cascading rectangles. Noctis was just about to approach the counter in the foyer to talk to the hotel clerk when a black-haired teenage girl wearing a red plaid skirt and a sleeveless, black jacket came down the stairs from the second floor. Although Iris had fled from the battle for Insomnia and lost her home just recently, she looked about as chipper as Noctis remembered her.

“Gladdy!” she called out to her brother, waving and laughing. “Look at you all, holding your own out there.”

The smile fell from her face the moment she noticed there was a stranger accompanying them. She hesitated to step closer. “Who's he?”

“If I may.” Ardyn lifted his hat and bowed. “I am but his Highness' humble escort and opener of Imperial doors. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Iris. Call me Ardyn, if you like.”

Her smile returned. “Polite. I like it.”

Ardyn had fooled her far to easily with his courtesy, and judging by Gladio's sour expression, her brother did not like it at all. “Tone it down, man. There's nothing for you to gain here.”

“Gladdy's kinda right,” Iris said. “We escaped from Insomnia with the bare minimum. C'mon, let's go upstairs to talk. Jared and Talcott will want to see you.”

Just when she set a foot on the lowest step of the stairs, Noctis' head started throbbing. Images appeared before him, of a face with skin as dark and rough as the earth, white lines running across the cheek bones and red eyes boring into his very soul. He saw pointed rocks, burning shards, and fire erupting from the ground. It was some place he had never been to. The headache was strong enough to seep into the rest of his body, but thankfully faded just as quickly as it had come over him. Even so, it left him feeling slightly disoriented, as though he was somewhere he should not be.

Ignis placed a hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”

“That headache came out of nowhere,” Noctis said, trying to shake the feeling from his head and make sense of what he had seen. There was only location that could match the images. “I think I saw the meteor.”

“A vision?”

“I'm not sure.” That face he had seen could have been Titan's. If so, the images might have been a message from the god himself. The Archaean was said to slumber in the depths of the Disc of Cauthess, still holding the meteor after thousands upon thousands of years. Could it be that Luna had roused him from his sleep, so that he would give Noctis his blessing?

Ardyn chuckled. “It appears our prince has had his very first encounter with the divine. Ah, they grow up so fast.” He made it sound like it was something to be taken for granted, which only added to Noct's confusion.

“What?”

“Allow me to recite an old nursery rhyme for you. From the deep, the Archaean calls. Yet on deaf ears, the god's tongue falls. The King made to kneel, in pain, he crawls.”

“Is this about Noct?” Prompto asked.

“You seem to forget that the Chosen King's encounter with the gods has been preordained. Of course, any old story regarding the King speaks of his trials.”

Ignis looked thoughtful. “It doesn't say what the King is supposed to do.”

“Isn't it rather obvious?” Ardyn turned from Iggy to Noctis with a smile. “You only need to heed the Archaean's call.”

“Does that mean you'll be leaving already?” Iris asked with a mix of disappointment and worry in her expression.

Gladio turned to Noctis, awaiting his decision.

“I think the Archaean can wait another day,” he said. “Though if he keeps sending headaches, I'm not sure I can wait so long.”

Thankfully, Titan went easy on Noctis with the headaches for the rest of the day. The prince and his friends opted to spend the afternoon and evening with Iris, Jared and Talcott at the Leville instead of setting out to the Disc of Cauthess immediately. Although Gladio hardly showed it, Noctis imagined that he was more than relieved to see that his little sister was unharmed, especially so after learning from old Jared that his father Clarus, Shield to the King, had not returned, meaning that he had most likely fallen along with Regis in battle. Thus, Iris and Gladio had, effectively, become orphans. It was one of those moments in which Noctis wished he was better at talking about feelings. He knew Gladio was acting strong because he needed to protect those around him at all times, and perhaps also because Clarus had died in fulfilment of his duty, as had been expected of him, but there had to be some emotional turmoil beneath his calm and collected facade.

Likewise, even though Iris offered to tell Noctis anything he needed to know about the invasion, he could hear in the way she forced out the words that she was not ready to talk about it yet. For this reason, he pushed his curiosity aside and decided not to ask for details. Regis was dead, the city was in ruins, and with the help of Ardyn, they were going to reclaim whatever was left of it as soon as Noctis had build his magical strength using the Royal Arms of his ancestors and the gods' blessings. He did not really need to know any more than that.

It seemed that there was something like a collective sigh of relief when Jared turned their attention towards the potential locations of Royal Tombs in the region of Duscae. His grandson Talcott, a boy no older than seven or eight, immediately cheered up when they discussed the local legends and rumours. He promised to find the location of a Royal Tomb by the time Noctis returned from the Disc of Cauthess.

All throughout the evening, Ardyn continued to act like he had no hand in the invasion or the trials that lay before them, keeping to the background and watching them talk with indifference. More than once, Gladio had glared at him, possibly to try to invoke some sense of guilt for the pain the Empire had caused to people, but without success. Either Ardyn felt like his deeds in the name of the Empire had nothing to do with it, or he was so good at detaching himself from it all that he could have straight up lied to them and neither Iris nor Jared or Talcott would have seen through it.

Chapter Text

Noctis was inclined to believe that lies had become second nature to Ardyn a long time ago. The Chancellor put little effort into concealing them sometimes and yet Noctis recognized probably half of them at best. One, admittedly minor thing Ardyn had not lied about, was his car. It was indeed a convertible, and a commonly seen model at that, even if it was easily spotted due to its red colour and the white stripe running from hood to trunk.

After resting for the night at the hotel, they switched cars at the car park near the outlook in the morning, and set off to the Disc of Cauthess with Ardyn behind the steering wheel. The Empire had erected yet another blockade right where the road descended into the Disc, which meant that, by using a less conspicuous car and the Chancellor himself in the front, they were not going to be stopped. Noctis could not help but notice, however, how strangely few soldiers and airships were stationed inside of the fortifications as they passed through.

“Shouldn't there be more MTs about?” Prompto voiced his thoughts.

Ardyn looked out the window at the few remaining dropships as they passed by. “I do wonder why.”

“You don't know?”

“I happen to be a little out of date concerning the Empire's movements.”

They kept driving along the road that spiralled into the centre of the Disc of Cauthess, the crater that had been left behind when the Archaean had caught the meteor during the War of the Astrals, hundreds, if not thousands of years before even Ardyn had been born. Apparently, the god was still down there, underneath of the burning hot meteor. The area had obviously gotten its name from the ring or disc-like geological faults that had formed around the depths of the crater, though Noctis had seen similar structures all over the otherwise lush landscape of Duscae. The impact of the meteor had truly sculpted the entire region.

The road eventually became too rough and narrow to keep driving. Ardyn turned off the engine and opened the driver's door. “Out with you lot.”

“So, where do we go from here?” Prompto asked once they had all gotten out.

If there had ever been a proper path ahead, the recent tremors must have caused it to be buried underneath the rocks. Noctis spotted a narrow passage through the rubble. “Let's try over there.”

He was the first to squeeze through the opening, all the while trying not to think about what would happen if one of the rocks further up came loose.

On the other side of the path, pieces of man-made stonework laid scattered about the terrain. Increasingly more of them came into view and eventually led to what must have once been the burial chamber of a King of Lucis. Although the foot of the stone table had crumbled, the effigy holding the Royal Arm was still there and intact.

“Is that what I think it is?” Gladio asked.

“Wouldn't Jared have told us if there was a Royal Tomb this close to the Disc?” Prompto noted.

“Perhaps it was recently unearthed by the tremors”, Ignis tried to explain. “It is in a pitiful state, after all.”

Gladio nodded in the direction of the King's statue. “Grab that Royal Arm and let's be on our way before the tomb collapses further.”

“Right.”

With Ardyn by his side, Noctis approached the intricately detailed stone figure. By looking at the handiwork alone, he had already gathered that this must have been one of the oldest tombs, but the weapon in the statue's hands made it clear that it was the oldest Royal Tomb of all. The longsword looked almost identical to Ardyn's except for the blue tint of its blade. Clearly, the other half of what was once a pair.

“The Blade of the Mystic”, Noctis stated.

Ardyns gaze grew bitter and cold.

Knowing his story, Noctis decided to tread with caution. “Do you mind if I …?”

He shook his head and took a step back. “Not at all. Please, go first.”

In the meantime, the others caught up to them. “What's the hold-up?” Gladio wanted to know.

“The Tomb of the Founder King if I am not mistaken”, Ignis clarified.

“But the effigy looks nothing like him”, Ardyn said disapprovingly, still staring at statue and sword.

Prompto took a closer look at the tilted stone table as well. The statue was that of a middle-aged man with long, wavy hair and a large beard, wearing ornamented robes, a cape and a crown. “What did he look like, then?”

“A lot like me, actually,” Noctis replied, just as the spectral copy of the Founder King's sword passed into his armiger.

He turned to leave, but Ardyn made no move to acquire the soul of the blade himself.

“Need a moment?” Noctis asked. Sentimentality did not suit Ardyn and his blank expression betrayed no emotion, but who was Noctis to claim he truly understood his relationship to Somnus?

“Just go. I'll catch up with you in a moment,” Ardyn replied and so he let him be.

Prompto, Gladio and Ignis joined Noctis as he walked away from the tomb. There was, however, that sinking feeling, that Ardyn was up to no good. And Noctis was not alone with this premonition.

“Three … Two … One …” Ignis counted down, and just as Prompto was about to question why, Ardyn's voice sounded behind them.

“You treacherous bastard!”

Sighing, Noctis turned back. “I knew it.”

“You've never deserved this sword to begin with!” With one foot on the stone table, Ardyn was trying to wrestle the original sword from the statue's hands. Needless to say, the statue did not budge.

“Hey, that's grave robbery!” Prompto shouted. “Or, uh … is it?”

“After everything he's taken from me, it's my right to take anything that's left of him!” He readjusted his grip on the sword's hilt and pulled even harder.

“Should we stop him?” Ignis asked.

Noctis crossed his arms and thought about it for a moment. “Nah.”

“The Founder King's spirit might get mad,” Gladio argued.

That thought did not bother him. Besides, he was curious to see whether Ardyn would succeed or begrudgingly be forced to give up. At the very least, it did not look like the sword would come loose anytime soon. He continued watching him struggle for another couple of seconds, until the ground started shaking again. A stone pillar next to them toppled over, causing Noctis and his entourage to move back into the burial chamber.

“Told you so,” Gladio said.

“C'mon, Ardyn. Leave it be,” Prompto begged, but Ardyn halted his attempted grave robbery only due to a wall of the chamber collapsing next to him.

“Blame me for the Starscourge, if you must,” he said to Prompto, “but I have no control over the earth.”

The tremors grew worse. More and more structures of the tomb caved in, and the stones Noctis stood on shifted precariously. He barely caught a glimpse of the large crack running across the tomb's floor before it broke away underneath his feet. In the blink of an eye, Gladio was beside him and caught his arm, but more rocks came loose and they both fell. Noctis and Gladio landed on a large outcrop, suffering only minor scratches from the fall, and, by some miracle, did not end up buried among the tomb's remains which had fallen with them.

The stone table laid not far away, cleanly broken in half. Black particles drifted down from above, and, as expected, Ardyn materialised next to the table and removed the sword from the statue's crumbling fingers with ease. “You truly ought to be grateful, Somnus. If I wasn't taking your sword, it might get lost.”

At the escarpment above of them, Ignis and Prompto stood, looking down. “Are you alright?” Ignis called down.

“Yeah,” Noctis replied, following the newly created rock face with his gaze. “There's a path over there. Let's try to meet up ahead.”

Ignis signalled his understanding and left, taking Prompto with him.

A thunderous voice boomed down on Noctis from behind and instantly brought on another pounding headache. Lifting a hand to his temple, Noctis turned around only to come face to face with the Archaean himself. The sight of the colossal Landforger was equally frightful and breathtaking. Save for his size, the god's appearance was, for the most part, that of an extraordinarily strong built and bald man, although the texture of his skin resembled earth and rocks with white markings running across them. The meteor that was visible from nearly all places in Duscae rested on his shoulders and Titan held it seemingly effortless in place with one hand, although splinters of it had pierced the god's face and body. With an unblinking, red gaze he stared at Noctis and, even though his mouth was moving, Noctis understood nothing, except that the voice of the god was the reason for his headache, a roaring and pounding that threatening to split his head in two.

“I'm here!” Noctis shouted over the noise. “What do you want from me?”

“There it is, your date with divinity,” Ardyn announced, turning towards the god with a sweeping gesture. Past him, Noctis saw a fleet of Imperial airships approaching the centre of the Disc. MTs armed with red glowing lances dropped out of them in great numbers, possibly preparing to fight the Archaean.

“And with that,” Ardyn said and waved goodbye to Noctis. “I bid you farewell for now. Good luck with Titan's trial!”

He dissolved into miasma, floating upwards and disappearing.

“Seriously!? You're gonna leave us now of all times?” Noctis called after him, but to avail.

“Forget about him,” Gladio said and urged him to move as soon as the first MTs spotted them.

Despite the stinging and pounding in his head, Noctis began to follow the path ahead.

Titan stretched out a hand to grab him, but it looked like the meteor was keeping him in place. His gigantic fingertips barely scraped the outcrop. Even so, his movements caused another small tremor, making this so-called trial no easier.

#-#-#

The airships had finally moved into place, the magitek infantry was on its way to attack the Archaean, and Ravus was just about to head out to fight the false True King as well. He had already ordered a dropship to dock next to his that would bring him down to Titan's feet.

“Leaving already?”

That voice. Ravus stopped abruptly and turned around. “Chancellor Izunia.”

That man's ability to show up out of nowhere irritated him to no end. Ravus greeted him with a cold stare, before he actively reminded himself to stay calm. This might be an unexpected opportunity to settle things with the Empire. After all, the Chancellor must have been sent by either Besithia or the Emperor. Ravus was well aware he had made himself some new enemies by ordering the Crystal back into the capital of Lucis, and if this conversation kept Aldercapt out of his way, it was worth it. The outcome, however, depended on how long his patience with the Chancellor would last. That man was the most infuriating person he knew, and this was saying a lot, given Tummelt, Besithia, and the other idiots of the Empire.

“Allow me to congratulate you on your promotion, Commander. Or, should I say, Your Highness, King of the ruined city of Insomnia?” He bowed deeply with the obvious intention to make fun of him. “Have two nationalities not been enough for you?”

“You have been there the day Fenestala Manor fell into Imperial hands,” Ravus stated. “You know that joining Niflheim was my only choice to see King Regis' to his end.” By raising his hand, Ravus granted the Chancellor a glimpse of the Ring of the Lucii. “That used to be my mission, but now I have a new one. The line of Oracles communes with the gods, but one god came to commune with me. I have a divine calling to fulfil.”

“And yet here you are, about to kill a god.”

“Titan was awoken to aid that Lucian brat, the so-called Chosen King, and if the Archaean will not ally with me, I will have put him to rest.”

“Isn't it funny to think that you and I were planning this exact operation, except for a different reason?”

Ravus bored into the Chancellor with his gaze, trying to see if he would buckle when threatened. “I happen to know that Noctis is down there at Titan's feet, which, by the way, is on your head, Chancellor. You spread the news of his death.”

Of course he did not buckle. “An honest mistake,” he said, shrugging. “You cannot expect a man of my rank to plummet down some dark hole after him, now, can you?”

Certainly, the world would be better off if he had. Ravus felt his patience wearing thin already. “Seeing how you failed to take care of the problem, I will take care of it now,” he announced and made another attempt to move towards the door to the walkway outside of the airship.

“Would it not be safe to assume that, if the prince is still about, your dear sister is as well?”

The mentioning of Luna caught his attention immediately. Ravus halted again. “What do you know about it?”

“Let's say I have a hunch where she might be.” Naturally, he knew more than he let on.

“Tell me,” Ravus demanded.

“It is only logical that she cannot be left to travel the world and rouse more Astrals. She would be much safer at home, where the Empire can guarantee her safety, don't you think?”

“You brought her back to Fenestala Manor?”

The Chancellor lifted his hands in defence. “I never said that!” Damn it. His demeanor was as obscure as always.

“You are bluffing,” Ravus claimed. “I would have been informed of her capture.”

A sly smile spread across Izunia's face. “But why would I be bluffing?”

“That is the question indeed.” There was absolutely no telling for him whether the Chancellor spoke the truth. Ever since his alleged betrayal, Ravus had been cut off from some of the Empire's internal communication. A circumstance the Chancellor was using to his advantage, without doubt. Yet it did not matter. Even if Luna was back at Fenestala Manor, there was no way for Ravus to travel there in an instant.

“What I know for certain, however,”, he said and eventually stepped out onto the walkway, where hot winds whipped about him, “is that Noctis is down there right now.”

The Chancellor's footsteps resounded on the iron grating behind him. Holding his hat, Izunia leaned over the railing.

From the hovering airship, Ravus had a clean view of the fight between the Archaean, his magitek infantry, Noctis and his retainers. Although Titan's movement was restricted due to the meteor on his shoulder, he destroyed mechanized soldiers of the Empire by the dozen with every sweep of his arm. Ravus hardly cared, since his supply of soldiers was near endless. Not even a god could withstand the continuous assault indefinitely. The Empire's triumph over the ice goddess Shiva had proven it. How Noctis was holding out in the midst of it all, was beyond him, but Ravus spotted him occasionally.

“Such a foolish boy,” the Chancellor noted. “Does he not realise that, once Titan is gone, there is nothing left to keep the meteor from dropping onto his head? It must be though down there already, given the heat of the meteor, and it looks to me as though this god won't last much longer.”

Ravus had never considered himself a cowardly man, but he did wonder whether the Ring or the Draconian would save him from an early demise if needed. The MTs were meant to be sacrificed, and if Noctis died buried underneath the burning meteor – all the better for him, but there was no guarantee he would make it out of that hole in time if he engaged Noctis and Titan in direct combat. On the other hand, chances were that he would cross paths with Noctis again soon if both of them survived the battle. Huffing in frustration, Ravus went back inside of the airship.

“When you report to the Emperor, tell him that I will be willing to negotiate once I have fulfilled my mission. Until then, I absolutely need the Crystal to power the Ring of the Lucii.”

Chancellor Izunia did not follow him, which led Ravus to assume he was content with what he had seen and heard.

“Of course,” he replied and turned towards the smaller airship docked at the side. “By the way, I'll be taking that dropship of yours as compensation for my travel expenses. You made me surrender my car to an earthquake just to get here, and I'd very much like to save it from further damage.”

“Suit yourself.”

Watching him leave felt to Ravus as though a thorn had been pulled from his side. Yet just as he was about to return to the cockpit of his airship, it occurred to him that the Chancellor had not once mentioned why he had come to meet him. It left him with a most uneasy feeling.

#-#-#

The heat of the meteor was slowly eating through the frozen surface of the grounds while Titan disappeared in a golden light. A full round of magic flasks filled with ice magic seemed to have done the trick to defeat him.

“I-I think we did it!” Prompto exclaimed and slapped Noctis' shoulder.

Noctis was not so certain about it, because he could not tell whether he had received the god's blessing or not, but he assumed it was a good sign that Titan had seemingly disappeared by choice and not fallen to his knees before the magitek infantry.

“Great, now what?”, Gladio asked, looking at the trembling meteor above them. It was a matter of mere minutes until it came crashing down on them, and there appeared to be no way out from the centre of the disc unless they somehow sprouted wings.

Ignis stepped back as flames burst from the ground before him. On top of everything there were still a few remaining MTs about which were slowly turning their attention to them. Most of the magitek engines were leaving, save for one. It descended into the pit not far from them and its front opened, revealing a familiar figure standing in the cargo bay.

“Need a lift, Your Highness?” Ardyn called, smiling.

The very last traces of the Archaean disappeared and with a rumble, the meteor above of their heads began to move.

“Quick, everyone!”, Ignis shouted.

They broke into a sprint towards the airship, and the very moment the last of them had climbed aboard, Ardyn gave a seemingly non-hostile MT unit the signal to take off.

Through the slowly closing front part of the MT engine, Noctis watched as they moved away from the centre of the Disc, the distance increasing by the second, until the meteor came crashing down, narrowly missing their aircraft. The MT engine shook as it was hit by smaller pieces of the meteor that had broken off, but once they had made it out of the Disc's centre, the ride became as smooth as though they were no longer moving at all. It was difficult to tell from there on out, really, because once the front had fully closed, they were stuck looking at the bland interior of the cargo bay.

Sighing in relief, Prompto let go of the pipe he had clung to and sat down on the floor. “Talk about a close call!”

Noctis turned to Ardyn. “So that's what you've been up to.”

He smiled, looking very pleased with himself. “You don't even know half the things I've been doing to keep the Empire off your backs. Now then, let's collect my car and be off to our next destination.”

Chapter Text

“And you're sure that's where you parked her? Like, 100% sure?” Prompto asked, not for the first time, as they stood by an empty parking spot in Lestallum's car park. They had only just returned from the Disc of Cauthess to find that the Regalia had gone missing.

“I am absolutely certain,” Ignis confirmed.

“Then that means …,” Gladio began and Prompto gasped. “She was stolen!”

Ignis put a hand to his chin. “By the Empire, no doubt. They are still searching for us."

“I don't see the problem,” Ardyn said. “We can simply keep using my car. She might not be as comfortable as your luxury automobile, but we were stopped not once on our way here. With all the new blockades that have sprung up recently, I'd say inconspicuousness is a valuable feature.”

“He doesn't get it,” Noctis said, crossing his arms.

“The Regalia's not just a car,” Ignis explained. “She's all that's left of our home.”

“Our home away from home,” Prompto added. “We can't just trade the old girl for another. It'd be like cheating.”

“Come now, don't you think you lot are being a bit too sentimental?”

“You're the Chancellor of Niflheim,” Noctis reminded him, “Can't you just tell them to return the Regalia? Should be easy for you, right?”

“The communication between the forces under Ravus' command and the rest of the Empire is currently difficult at best. But if you insist, I will make some calls.”

“I do insist.”

Sighing, Ardyn summoned his mobile from his armiger. No wonder no one ever got him on the phone. Even if there was reception in the armiger, he would never hear it ringing. Which, then again, explained why he kept his mobile there. Ardyn strode over to the outlook, so Noctis and his friends could keep talking without being heard by his allies at Niflheim.

A familiar bark caught Noctis' attention. Luna's black dog was running down the driveway towards him.

“Look, it's Umbra!” Prompto exclaimed. “Think he's got another message for you?”

“I hope so.”

Noctis had probably never been so glad to see that dog. The last time he caught a glimpse of Luna was through Titan's eyes, a vision of that time she had spoken to the god, but one single moment did not tell him how she truly fared. Noctis could only imagine that the rituals and trials she undertook on her journey were equally, if not tougher, for her than for him. As usual, Luna's red notebook was strapped to Umbra's back. Once Noctis had retrieved it, he hastily flipped to the most recent entry.

Look for Ramuh's rune stones to receive his blessing. My prayers are with you, Noctis.

To the point, as always, and yet Noctis could not have been more relieved to know that she was, indeed, still out there and thinking of him as well.

I am on my way. Thank you, Luna.

With his reply written, he returned the book to Umbra. In truth, there was much more on his mind he wanted to tell her and talk to her about, but this was not the time for lengthy letters.

“I may assume she is alright?” Ignis asked.

“She told me to visit Ramuh's rune stones next.”

It had been a cloudy day thus far, but mere seconds after Umbra had vanished from his sight, the wind picked up and it started raining. Lightning was crashing down in the distance, plainly visible even from afar.

Prompto turned to look past Taelpar Crag. “Into the eye of the storm we go, then.”

“As far as I know, all of the rune stones are located to the east of Duscae, with one of them only accessible through Fociaugh Hollow,” Ignis said.

“In that case, we'll have to go through all of these blockades again,” Gladio noted as the rain slowly transformed into a downpour. “Better get the hood up or we'll be making our way back in a bath tub.”

“Right!” Prompto agreed. They hurried back to where Ardyn had parked his car and raised the hood together. Unlike the Regalia's, this one could only be lowered or raised manually, and it was a hassle.

It did not take long for Noctis' hair to stick to his face and the rain to seep through his jacket. “Man, I miss our car.”

They were not even finished yet when Ardyn walked up to them with an umbrella in hand. He offered it to the prince, but Noctis refused. It would make no difference; he was halfway drenched already.

“Please tell me you know where the Regalia is,” Noctis asked instead.

“Not yet,” Ardyn replied, “but I'm expecting to receive the intel in question shortly. Are we off again? Where to, if I may ask?”

“Umbra was here with a message. We are to look for Ramuh's rune stones.”

“He who passes judgement on the isle of Angelgard,” Ardyn thought out loud. “Or so they said, in the old days. I, for my part, have yet to encounter the Fulgurian.” He looked as if he could go on rambling for another half an hour, standing there all comfortably dry.

“I hate to complain, but can we get back on the road before I'm soaked entirely?”, Prompto asked.

“Wuss,” Gladio said.

Thankfully, Ardyn unlocked the car's doors so they could get in and out of the downpour.

While the rune stones were nowhere near as famous as the Disc of Cauthess or the Rock of Ravatogh, at least their location was no secret. Ardyn drove them back to the Chocobo Wiz Post, from where they intended to head out into the wilderness. The Empire had stopped him only once on the way, and according to him, he had thrown up an illusion to disguise his passengers as low ranking members of the Nilfheim military. Noctis would not know, since Ardyn could apparently select who was affected by it, or rather, who was not.

They had just pulled into the parking spot when Ardyn's mobile rang. He pulled it from his coat pocket and picked up without much hesitation. “I assume you got the intel?”

“Who do you take me for?” a woman answered. “That car you're looking for is at the Archeole Stronghold.”

“Please do remind me who is manning that base right now?”

“Only the High Commander himself.”

“And you are in no position to retrieve it, of course.”

“Hey, I have no right to order the High Commander around. Could steal the car, though, if you're willing to pay the extra gil. Or you go get it yourself.”

“I will consider my options,” Ardyn said and hung up.

“Archeole Stronghold,” Noctis repeated for everyone to hear. “So that's where they brought the Regalia.”

“The Imperial base is not far from here,” Ignis remarked.

Prompto looked ready to go. “Well then, let's get in, grab the Regalia, and bust our way out!”

“It is certainly not that easy. Going in without a plan could get us killed.”

“And that is not all,” Ardyn said. “The Commander might just be impatiently awaiting your arrival.”

The excited expression fell from Prompto's face. “A trap?”

Ardyn turned around to face Noctis, Prompto and Ignis on the back seat. “If you are that keen on getting your car back, allow me to handle this matter while you are out gaining Ramuh's blessing. You can take the Chocobos from here and we'll meet up again once our respective tasks have been completed.”

“Sounds good to me,” Noctis said.

Although the pouring rain looked no more pleasant than earlier, Noctis and his friends got out of the car. In mere seconds, he was soaked again. Ardyn rolled down the driver's window just as they were about to part ways.

“Please try not to do anything foolish during my absence.”

“Like what, getting captured?” Noctis asked.

“More like, dying. I'd hate for all my efforts to have been in vain.”

“Don't you worry, old man. We'll be long back before you are.”

Noctis strode away with renewed confidence and heard Ardyn drive off behind him.

#-#-#

At the evening of the same day, Ravus was sitting behind the desk of one of the control rooms within the Archeole Stronghold and signing off delivery notes. As much as he hated the paperwork, even in these chaotic times, some order had to be maintained. Dim light fell through the small window in front of him. This thunderstorm had been raging for most of the day already and it did not look as though the downpour would let up during the night, either. It was proof that the Fulgurian had awoken, and Ravus had already sent soldiers to patrol all possible locations Ramuh might show up at. As for himself, he could not be everywhere at the same time, so he stayed at the Stronghold, ready to move out at a moment's notice.

A red light flashing across the sky caused Ravus to look up from his duties, but he paid it no mind. Due to the magitek generator, a red flicker in the air was a common phenomenon within all Imperial bases. A not so common occurrence, however, were gunshots breaking through the prattling of the rain. Ravus stood up to check on whatever was going on outside. Part of him hoped that Noctis and his retainers had come for their car and that some MTs had opened fire on them.

As he headed out of the control room into this insufferable downpour, he certainly did not expect bullets flying towards him. Ravus dodged the attack in the nick of time and discovered an MT gone rouge. Something like this happened on occasion, usually whenever a magitek core supercharged, but it posed no threat to him, merely target practise. With a wave of his hand and the newly acquired power of the ring, Ravus sent a blade of light to pierce the metal soldier's chest. Where one rouge MT fell, however, two others took its place. Glancing around, he discovered that his army was tearing itself apart. Magitek swordsmen were fighting snipers, MT armours fighting axemen. About half of the soldiers had gone rouge, as was evident by their twitching movements and unusual attack patterns.

“What is going on here?” Ravus spat out. Not a single human soul was in sight to respond. His gaze drifted up to where the tower of the magitek generator rose above the buildings. Its red glow had vanished.

This was an act of sabotage, without doubt. Lucis must have successfully infiltrated the base.

Ravus drew his sword and ran to where the Regalia was parked, dodging bullets and slicing down rouge magitek soldiers along the way. Lightning crashed in the distance. He narrowly avoided a misguided missile, before drawing on the ring's power to summon more of Bahamut's blessed blades and cleaving a path through the fighting MTs before him. Whether some of them had or had not gone rouge, he did not care.

Beyond the collapsing metal soldiers and the veil of heavy rain, Ravus made out Noctis, who was casually approaching the Regalia amidst this chaos of storm and battle.

With determination, Ravus walked towards him, his own sword in one hand and summoning Regis' blade in the other, more than ready to engage Noctis in battle. Although he did not make his presence known, it took but a moment for the first Chosen to notice him.

Noctis turned to him with an unusually smug expression on his face. There was something distinctly off about him.

“Ravus!” Noctis greeted him with an unpleasantly familiar tone. “I thought it was about time we met. Just look at the effort you put into luring me here. But let me ask you this; Did I walk into your trap or did you walk into mine?”

Ravus glanced sideways to make sure Noctis' friends, who were suspiciously absent, were not jumping at him from a dark corner of the Stronghold.

“You will regret coming here,” he replied eventually. “Your lineage is no longer fit to rule. You have failed to prove yourself worthy to the title of the Chosen. With the Draconian's blessing, I will strike you down and return the world to divine order.”

“I'd love to see you try,” Noctis said, smirking. “Show me what you can do with these new toys of yours.” A blue gleaming longsword appeared in his hands.

“How dare you speak of the god's gifts with such insolence”, Ravus said through grit teeth.

He charged at Noctis with both swords raised, even though he was fully aware that his opponent had more experience with the Power of Kings than he had. Their blades clashed when Noctis threw the longsword at him and warped after it. The force of the strike pushed Ravus back, yet he remained on his feet and retaliated with quick swipes.

Somehow, Noctis revealed himself to be a far more capable and deceitful opponent than he had imagined. Whenever Ravus thought himself out of range, Noctis sent a red glowing spectral blade after him or seemingly reappeared out of nowhere. The downpour was not making this fight any easier, either. Expert swordsmanship alone was not enough for Ravus to break through his opponent's attacks. He found himself forced to use the Ring's magic far earlier than anticipated. The next time Noctis slashed at him, he defended himself with the Holy spell. White flames burst forth, flinging Noctis to the ground.

“So, we're bringing magic into the mix now, are we?”, he said as he rose back to his feet. “Well then, you've asked for this.”

With a grand gesture, Noctis threw up a hand and snapped his fingers. There was a delay, just about long enough for Ravus to wonder what was supposed to happen, before black clouds erupted from the ground around him. They formed a roaring whirlwind of dark energy that ripped into Ravus life force and threw him off his feet. His own sword was flung from his hand, but he managed to hold onto Regis'.

“You are … tainted,” he brought out under strained breath. The blast had hit him full-force and while it had left no open wounds, he felt his strength waning, sapped by the darkness. Ravus struggled to stand up, whereas Noctis walked slowly towards him.

“I must say, I expected more from you.”

Defiantly, Ravus threw several blades of light at him, some of which he deflected, some of which he dodged. One, however, pierced Noctis' leg and brought him down on one knee. Black miasma poured of the wound.
With some effort, he picked himself back up and the sword shattered into tiny, immaterial crystals.

Ravus called upon more of the sacred blades, but with his strength already fading, he felt the ring draining his life force. His vision swam for a moment and he dropped back down.

Through the pouring rain and rumbling thunder, Noctis continued to approach him.

No matter how much Ravus willed his body to move, his muscles failed him. Noctis threw the longsword. If the warp-strike hit, it would be his end.

In a blinding light, an armoured figure appeared before Ravus. With a clang, the sword was deflected and spiralled towards the sky. It landed, blade first, in the ground at Noctis' feet.

“That's enough, brother.” The figure spoke with an otherworldly echo to its voice.

Although Ravus was struggling to stay focused, he recognised the figure as a Lucian king of yore. The ring on his finger burned like red-hot metal. Clutching his hand, Ravus groaned in pain. The apparition was taking everything out of him just to stay materialised.

“Look at you, Somnus, still donning that ridiculous armour!” Noctis said with a laugh in his voice and spite shining in his eyes. “Are you too afraid to show your face, or are you so proud of being the Draconian's puppet?”

“You're one to talk, hiding behind an illusion yourself.”

Noctis pulled the longsword from the ground. “I was merely giving the man what he wanted.”

“I see, your thirst for vengeance is still not stated. Know that you can still return to the path which was laid out for you. I only wish for you to find respite, brother.”

“I will find respite, once I have freed myself from the shackles of fate.”

“Will you two stop talking already!”, Ravus shouted with what little strength he had left, despite the stinging and burning pain. The ring's magic was slowly eating through his flesh, yet he refused to be consumed by it. “What on Eos is going on here!?”

“This man is not the first Chosen King you have sought,” the King of Yore finally told him, “but the darkness the Bladekeeper spoke of. You have allowed yourself to get caught off-guard. This must not happen again.”

“It will not”, Ravus replied through clenched teeth.

A flicker of realisation crossed Noctis' face. “You have been watching this whole time and that is all you have to say to him?”

The two stared at each other for a second and it seemed as though unspoken words passed between them.

“Leave him be, unless you want me to keep talking,” the old kind demanded.

Noctis begrudgingly gave in and dismissed his weapon. “I was just about to leave, anyway.”

As Noctis, or whoever he really was, walked away, the King of Yore disappeared and the pain wrecking Ravus' body finally stopped. Robbed of all his strength and soaked to the bone, he collapsed on the wet concrete floor, closed his eyes and let the falling raindrops cool his burning skin.
He would not be defeated again, he swore himself.

#-#-#

The downpour had subsided an hour ago, but there were still rain and mud puddles all around the Chocobo Wiz Post. Noctis and his companions sat around one of the tables of the bistro, sharing some sandwiches and talking about their most recent adventure in Fociaugh Hollow.

Ramuh’s trial had been child’s play. The god had not even demanded of Noctis to fight him, just to find and touch the petrified bolts of lightning around the region. Although Imperial forces had been stationed all around, the perpetual downpour had enabled Noctis and his friends to approach the rune stones undetected.

Only the third rune stone had been somewhat difficult to reach. Like most dark and damp caves on Eos, Fociaugh Hollow, too, had been, and still was, infested with daemons. Out of all the daemons they had fought on their way through, one stuck out as odd. A Naga, a daemon resembling a snake with the head of a woman, had tried to abduct Prompto and pull him into the depths of the cave. Stranger yet, in between the usual hissing and screeching, it had uttered words in a heavily distorted voice. Lots of daemons possessed warped human features, but Noctis had never heard of one capable of human speech. It made him feel somewhat awkward to have killed the otherwise nightmarish creature.

„That daemon’s voice is going to haunt me in my nightmares,“ Prompto said. „What did it say about a baby? Does it kidnap babies?“

„A daemon appears whenever a person succumbs to the Starscourge,“ Ignis explained. „It might be a bit of a stretch, but perhaps it recalled fragments of its former self.“

„Scary stuff, dude.“

„Why don’t we ask our daemon expert?“ Noctis suggested. „Ardyn?“

The Chancellor sat there with an unfocused gaze, clearly lost in thought, and only blinked himself from his trance once Noctis addressed him. „Excuse me,“ he said, looking somewhat disoriented. „What was the question?“

„What’s the matter? You’ve been unusually quiet ever since we returned.“

„While you have been chatting away, I’ve been trying to understand the motives of our enemies.“

The term enemy was everything but well-defined when he used it. „You’re talking about Ravus?“

„Not quite.“

„Any chance you’re gonna let us in on that thought process?“ Gladio asked.

He took one of the remaining sandwiches. „Later, perhaps.“

„So, not at all,“ Gladio concluded.

„Now, what was it you wanted to know?“

„About that Naga we met …“

Chapter Text

With Ramuh's blessing gained and the Regalia back in their possession, Noctis and his entourage spent the following days hunting for Royal Tombs all throughout Lucis. Some, like the Tomb of the Just, had been built with public access in mind, making it easy for Noctis and Ardyn to grow their arsenal, while others – the majority, in fact – lay hidden in thick forests or deep, dark caves. Again others, like the Tomb of the Tall, had eroded and the sacred arms had gone missing over time.

The Leville hotel at Lestallum turned into Noctis' base of operations for the time being, and whenever his party returned from a trip across the continent, either Jared or his grandson Talcott had discovered the location of another, previously lost Royal Tomb. Noctis considered himself lucky that the two retainers of the Amicita family were such history geeks. On a day off between their tomb raiding, Iris had also taken him on a tour around Lestallum to show him the power plant and the market, jokingly calling it a date. She seemed to have accepted the city as her new home already. That was Iris, always quick to adapt and push on. Probably a family trait, Noctis mused, thinking of how well Gladio had processed Clarus' death.

The latest trip had led his party to an ice cavern behind a waterfall west of Lestallum, where Noctis, after fighting waves of daemons and nearly freezing to death, had eventually obtained the soul of the Swords of the Wanderer. Upon his return to the Leville, however, Iris had not been waiting for him in the foyer as usual.

He found her upstairs, in her room. Talcott next to her would not stop crying, and Iris was just barely keeping it together herself. During Noctis' absence, the Empire had turned Lestallum inside-out in their search for the Crown Prince. In order to protect Talcott and Iris, Jared had stepped into the way of an Imperial commander and paid for his bravery with his life.
This time, not even Gladio could pin the crime on Ardyn. It had been too rash, too dumb. The action of a frustrated commander who sought to punish someone else for his own inability to find the Lucian fugitives. No one profited from the old man's death. “Stay still for too long, and the enemy will come to find you,” Ardyn had said when questioned. “Even my influence can protect only so many.”

It was clear that they had to move away from Lestallum, along with Iris and Talcott, lest their presence put more people into danger. For this reason, Gladio arranged to meet up with Crownsguard member Monica at the Cape Caem light house, far off the usual tourist hotspots.

On that evening, silence weighed on them like a heavy blanket.

In the middle of the night, Noctis awoke in his hotel bed, heart racing and head pounding. Images flashed before his eyes, of legions of magitek soldiers blocking his way. Of Luna's other dog, the white one named Pryna, running through the battlefield and dodging bullets. Of the Engine Blade crumbling to dust in his hands and his magical abilities failing him.

To Noctis, the nightmare seemed as though it had actually happened. He remembered just barely making it out of these fights unscathed. By the time he had finally caught up to Pryna, the illusion of Luna's messenger had faded and a hairless black dog with eyes glowing like that of a daemon had appeared before him.

Noctis rubbed his forehead, trying to rid his mind of the dream, but it only etched itself further into his memory. Especially so the moment he found Luna. The Oracle had been writhing in pain, overcome by the Starscourge. One half of her face had turned daemonic, with glossy, blackened skin and twitching eyes.

Nothing had ever hurt and frightened Noctis like this sight.

“Noctis,” her voice still echoed through his memory. “Please, Noctis. End this.”

With the trident of the Orcale in hand she had lunged at him. In the nick of time, Noctis had managed to dodge the blow, grabbed the weapon, but even when he had successfully wrestled it from her black dripping hands, she did not stop. Instead, Luna had continued to claw furiously at him, screeching like a daemon. It had forced Noctis to do the only thing he could do, and put her out of her misery. Just thinking about it caused Noctis' hands to tremble.

Noctis sat up in his bed and tried to calm his breath. The nightmarish images were all just a little too much.

In the beds on the other side of the darkened room, Ignis and Prompto were still sound asleep. Gladio was missing from the fourth bed, but Noctis was not concerned. Not much, anyway. He would have woken him if something truly important had come up.

Noctis cursed that stupid nightmare for frightening him awake. With a sigh he dropped back onto the mattress, hoping to just forget about it and return to sleep. Yet the dream would not let him. In the quiet of the night, his heart was beating louder than ever. His mind was tirelessly trying to work out the meaning of what he had seen. The same scenes replayed over and over. An endless loop of discomfort.

When Noctis had been a kid, he used to run to Regis in the middle of the night to tell him about his nightmares and receive some comforting words in return. Now that he was grown up, the thought of waking his friends just because of some crazy dream seemed downright stupid.

But going back to sleep was no option, either. Reluctantly, Noctis heaved himself out of bed and got dressed, all the while taking care not to disturb Prompto or Ignis. Perhaps some fresh air would help to clear his mind. He quietly closed the hotel room's door behind him. On his way down the corridor, the sounds of stifled sobs coming out of Iris' room caused him to pause. He recognized Gladio's voice, quiet and soothing, and although it was too muffled to make out any spoken words, Noctis knew he was comforting his little sister.

He assumed that poor Iris had seen Jared die. For the entire evening, she had tried very hard to stay composed. But Iris had to come undone, eventually. It was no wonder she could not sleep, either.

With that in mind, Noctis felt even more as though he could not burden his friends with his bizarre nightmare. Jared's death was very real, while Luna's was not. She was out there and safe. Gentiana would look after her. Presumably, anyway. Noctis hated his mind for drawing up even more disturbing pictures. Sighing in frustration, he headed for the ground floor.

When Noctis descended the stairs, Ardyn was sitting on one of the benches in the foyer and quietly enjoying the night time by reading a magazine. His coat hung over the backrest next to him.

Driven by curiosity, Noctis approached him. “You're still awake?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“You go first, then.”

Ardyn sighed and put the magazine aside. “Sleep doesn't always come easily to me. The Starscourge tends to turn one into a nocturnal creature. What about you?”

“Bad dream woke me,” Noctis admitted and raised a hand just as Ardyn was about to reply. “Keep the commentary to yourself.”

“A ceasefire it is, then.” Ardyn stood up, collected his coat and scarf and slung them over his shoulder. “I was just about to head out for ice cream. Would you like some as well?”

“Ice cream, in the middle of the night?” Noctis eyed him sceptically, trying to figure out if he was serious.

“If you want the best, you have to go out at night,” he explained. “In fact, Lestallum becomes most lively after sundown. So, how about it?”

Letting his age-old, crazy uncle, who just so happened to be the harbinger of death and chaos, treat him to an ice cream, was probably the kind of thing common sense should warn him about. Well, it should, but it did not.

Noctis shrugged. “Sure, why not?” Honestly, he was glad for any kind of diversion.

Ardyn led him out and into the heart of Lestallum, where one restaurant sat next to another. Even at night, it was still unpleasantly warm. A greater number of people was moving about the town and sitting in front of the buildings. Music was drifting out of the open doors, and a constant chattering was all around. They entered a small ice cream parlor whose interior was reminiscent of the Crow's Nest diners, except for its green pastel colours. Noctis moved into the same booth opposite of Ardyn, and it did not take long for a waitress to arrive.

“What can I bring you?” she asked in a cheerful tone of voice.

“That'll be two times the Midnight Sundae for us,” Ardyn replied.

“Wait a minute,” Noctis chimed in. “What kind of ice cream are we talking about?”

“It's a special order prepared with the finest chocolate in all of Duscae,” the waitress explained. “Servings are limited, which is why it's available only from 10 pm to 2 am. So, get it while it's cold!”

“Alright. I'll try it.”

Naturally, it took a while for the waitress to return, and whereas Noctis had expected Ardyn to jump at this opportunity for another conversation, he appeared to be perfectly content just to watch the people passing by the window. Though Noctis was loath to admit it, he had been following his advice to try and pay greater attention to the people around him. It really did help him to get a feel for the situation in certain places of the world. When Iris had taken him on her tour around Lestallum, he had already found out about most of the trivia she had told him. Ignis would be proud of his observations, he mused.

Eventually, the waitress brought them two tall glasses with the promised chocolate ice cream. Ardyn paid for both and gave her a tip. She looked a little flustered. “But … Isn't that a bit much?”

“I trust you know better what do with it than I do. Everyone's got their aspirations, or is it not so?”

“Thank you very much.” She made off quickly to talk to a coworker of hers.

Noctis watched her for another second before he turned his gaze back at Ardyn.

“Empire's paying you more than you can spend?”

“That about sums it up.”

The Midnight Sundae consisted mostly of dark chocolate ice cream, topped with cream liqueur, decorated with white chocolate flakes and a moon-shaped biscuit, reminiscent of the night sky. The first spoonful revealed its extraordinary rich flavour, bitter and sweet in just the right measure. Noctis let it melt on his tongue to savour the taste.

“This's pretty good,” he said eventually. “Too bad Iggy's not here. Perhaps he knows how to recreate something like this at camp. We could use Elemancy to prepare it.”

“And keep the ingredients in the armiger, along with all the camping equipment?”

“Of course. Where else would I keep it?”

Ardyn chuckled.

“What's so funny?”

“Somnus used to claim the armiger was meant for weapons only. Everything else he considered heresy. I used to agree with him for a long time, but necessity eventually caused me to abandon that principle.”

“So, what do you keep in your armiger nowadays?”

“An excellent question!” Ardyn said and laughed. “I probably forgot about half the things I ever put in there.”

“You know there is a way to empty it, right?”

“Ah, but do you really want me to do that?”

Knowing his luck, he might just bring about the end of the world by unleashing forgotten horrors from his armiger. Or simply by drowning Eos in useless trinkets.

“Probably not,” Noctis admitted.

It grew silent between them, and in the matter of a minute Noctis' thoughts returned to the nightmare. The images of the daemon dog and Luna's distorted face were haunting him. Not to mention what he had done to her. It was unusual for him to remember a dream with such clarity, especially after some time had passed.

“Do you think Luna could end up like you, with the Starscourge and all that?” he asked, trying to make it sound like any other random topic.

Ardyn raised an eyebrow at him. “You just had to go and ruin the mood, didn't you?”

Noctis sighed, annoyed. “Just … tell me what you think.”

“I find it most unlikely. As far as I know, no one else has ever had the ability to absorb the Starscourge. Not even I possess it any longer, and Lady Lunafreya's healing powers appear to be of a different nature, anyway.”

Unsurprisingly, his opinion did not help to ease Noctis' worries.

Ardyn licked his spoon clean and set it aside.

“This is about that bad dream you mentioned, is it not?”

There was simply no fooling him. “The more I think about it,” Noctis begrudgingly admitted, “the more I believe it was a vision of sorts, or a message from the gods. I was following Luna's dog to find Luna, but the dog turned out to be some kind of daemon, and when I finally made it to Luna, she was infected with the Starscourge and struggling to control it. It got so bad, I had to …” The words got somehow stuck in his throat, as if speaking them out loud would bring the terrible vision closer to reality.

Ardyn's eyes bore no trace of sympathy. He looked mildly curious at best. “You had to kill her?”

“With her own trident.”

“That dream is, quite simply, a threat, and presumably an empty one at that.”

“But who might be threatening me, and why?”

“The gods don't like it when their pawns move on their own, and though it may not look like it, I have been drawing you away from your destined path.”

“By buying me ice cream?”

The question amused him, apparently. “Only if you're that easily bribed.”

“I've received two of the gods' blessings,” Noctis argued. “They should be favourable with me.”

“Well, I say gods, but I am really just talking about Bahamut. Did I forget to mention he is the one hiding behind the crystal? The entire prophecy was his idea. Oh, and let's not forget that he was the one who accepted Somnus as king, as well.”

“So, the Draconian's upset because we're not at each other's throat?”

Ardyn laughed. “Positively fuming, I assume. Now, isn't that fun to imagine?”

Noctis had to disagree. If he understood correctly, there was a choice before him, and the dream had shown him the consequences if he was to choose incorrectly. Follow the gods given path and antagonise Ardyn, or be lead astray and lose Luna. Although Noctis valued Luna more than him, raising his sword against Ardyn, just because a god willed it, would make him no better than Somnus. He was not going down either roads, if it could be avoided.

“Listen, Noct,” Ardyn said with a calm and collected tone, similar to how Regis used to speak to him. “I have neither reason nor intention to hurt the dear Lady Lunafreya, that much I can assure you. She is a diplomatic and brave, young woman, and the most valuable ally I – no, we – have. Bahamut may have presented you with two options, but be not afraid to create a third yourself. As much as I hate to quote Minister Besithia, but the people of Niflheim forge their own destinies, and it is long overdue the Lucis Caelums do as well. We no longer live in an age where man exists solely by the grace of the gods.”

To hear him speak with such sincerity was so unusual, it almost caused Noctis to laugh.

“Listen to you, actually being honest for once.”

“For once?” Ardyn gasped as though he had been insulted. “I'm being honest with you more often than you think.”

“Says the man whose occupation is professional liar.”

“You got me there.”

Perhaps Ardyn was not quite as crazy as he had once seemed. Just eccentric. And complicated, as anyone might be in his situation. In any case, his little speech had lifted more of that weight on Noctis' mind than he had expected. Still, there was so much Noctis did not understand yet. It felt like he had only just begun to grasp the meaning behind the prophecy, the gods' plan, and his and Ardyn's role in it. He should have asked Ardyn about it sooner, he figured.

“Tell me, just what is so bad about the prophecy, apart from the gods toying with us? I thought being the True King meant saving the world or something.”

“Allow me to enlighten you, since you've been kept so blissfully in the dark regarding the role of the True King. In order to fulfil his destiny and banish the Starscourge, the True King needs to attain the Power of Providence first, which, to my knowledge, is comprised of the Ring of the Lucii, covenants with five out of six gods, and gathering ten years' worth of power within the Crystal.”

“Ten years within the Crystal?” Whatever he meant by that, it did not sound pleasant.

“Ten long, dark, lonely years, in which the world is consumed by darkness,” Ardyn explained and gestured at the night sky outside. “Like all kings before him, the True King, too, is made to suffer, except that this time, his people must suffer with him. Such is the trial of Bahamut.”

“Talk about a test of faith, huh?” Noctis said and tried to stifle a yawn, but failed.

“Call it a test of faith, or call it torture at the hands of a god. Personally, I prefer the latter, and I speak from experience.”

“So, what's the alternative? I mean, the Starscourge is real and out there. Are people supposed to just … live with the threat?”

“If you need to know, I happen to have acquired proof that the Starscourge can be treated with the right medicine.” Ardyn paused thoughtfully and raised a finger so Noctis would not interrupt him. “Let me rephrase that. With man-made medicine. But scientific research is not quite there yet, and given the overwhelming opposition of Emperor Aldercapt in Niflheim and Bahamut in Lucis, it never will, unless they are removed.”

“Now that's a tall order,” Noctis noted. “Us versus the world?”

“I would not have it any other way.”

“Of course.”

Noctis stretched out his arms and slid out of the booth. “Thanks for treating me,” he said and yawned again, “but I think I better head back to the Leville and get some rest before we set out to Cape Caem.”

Ardyn made no move to accompany him. “I'll be seeing you tomorrow, then.”

He comfortably leaned back on the bench, withdrew his hat from his armiger and placed it over his eyes.

“You're just gonna stay here?”

“It's not like they are going to throw me out after I gave her such a generous tip.”

Noctis shrugged. “If you say so.”

Some minutes later, he arrived back at his hotel room. Just as Noctis opened the door, Ignis stirred from his sleep. He grabbed his glasses from the night stand and propped himself up on an elbow.
“Where have you been, Noct? Are you unwell?”

“I just got a drink downstairs,” he hastily explained. “Woke up parched.”

Even though the only light in the room came from the still open door to the corridor, Ignis eyed him intently. “Is that ice cream in the corner of your mouth?”

Noctis wiped it away quickly. Damn, Ardyn's bad habit of lying must have rubbed off on him.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Noctis, his three friends, the Chancellor, Iris and Talcott, gathered in front of the Regalia at Lestallum’s car park to set out to the southern coast of Duscae. The problem with that plan was, of course, that this many people did not fit into the Regalia. In another, disarming display of generosity, Ardyn offered to follow them with his convertible and form a convoy, but Gladio immediately insisted that all his charges were to be placed where he could see them, and that the only chauffeur he was going to accept would be Ignis.

This limited the choice of available seats severely. The whole five of Ignis, Gladio, Noctis, Iris and Talcott ended up in the Regalia. Noctis had actually been looking forward to not getting crammed in the back with two other people again, but there was no arguing with Gladio, given the mood he was in. The teen and the kid did not take up as much space in the back as Noct’s friends, at least.

Consequently, Prompto had gotten lucky, or unlucky, – depending on who you asked, – to travel with Ardyn. Noctis would have paid some gil to listen in on their conversation. The atmosphere in the Regalia was rather awkward. Iris tried her best to sound cheerful, making light conversation with Talcott about the smoking Rock of Ravatogh in the distance and other famous landmarks. Noctis attempted to join in, but he was not good with this forced kind of conversation when the topic of Jared’s death still hung over them like a dark cloud. If only there was something he could do that would actually make them feel better. Like punishing the Empire for the murder in some small way.

He was looking out of the window when a large, angular shadow passed over the landscape at a considerable speed. An airship of the Imperial army, carrying some sort of signal tower, flew overhead, and it seemed to be heading in the same direction as them.

„Guys, are you seeing this?“ Iris asked, pointing up.

„Yup,“ Noctis replied, eyes fixed on the airship.

„Kinda hard to miss,“ Gladio added.

Ignis, too, looked up from the road for a moment. „I have seen this kind of transport before. The Empire is moving magitek equipment to a newly erected base.“

They were driving down the road that led to Old Lestallum, the first settlement in the Duscae region, founded long before the power plant had been built in the far northeast and people moved there. These days, all that Old Lestallum was famous for was the first and original Crow’s Nest diner.

Just as Ignis had foretold, the Imperial airship descended behind the drab grey walls of a stronghold, just a little beyond the bridge across Wennath River, on the other side of town. Close enough to reach it by foot in an hour or two.

„Let’s pull over at Old Lestallum,“ Noctis suggested.

Gladio seemed to know exactly what was on his mind. „And pay the Empire a visit?“

„Deliver some justice for dad and Jared,“ Noctis elaborated. „And maybe grab a bite at the Crow’s Nest later.“

Ignis cast a look at him through the rear view mirror, but did not object. Not to the suggested infiltration, and not to the plans for dinner, either. Usually, he did not like it when they stopped at a fast food joint. Still, the Crow’s Nest advertised “mouthfuls of happiness”, and Noctis figured, even if it was not healthy, it would probably help to lift their spirits.

That was, if knocking around Imperial tinheads did not do the trick. Noct’s magic was stronger now, his armiger filled with more Royal Arms, and if he could convince Ardyn to open the gates for them, laying waste to the stronghold should be perfectly doable. Perhaps the base ended up being unmanned and they only turned MTs into scrap metal, but even that was better than sitting around and having to begrudgingly accept the Empire’s crimes.

The Regalia rolled into the parking lot in front of the Three Zs motel at Old Lestallum. Noctis and the others got out of the car, and a couple of seconds later, the Chancellor pulled up behind them.

„Is there a particular reason why we’ve stopped?“ Ardyn asked once he and Prompto had left his convertible and the entire party had gathered in front of the motel.

Noctis turned to him. „Saw that Imperial airship?“

„We’re gonna kick some magitek asses today,“ Gladio continued, smirking.

„Ooh! I’m down for some ass-kicking!“ Prompto bounced on his heels, giddy with anticipation.

Ardyn did not look as enthusiastic. „It sounds to me like you’re about to get yourself into a world of trouble. Again, if I may say so.“

„I would suggest that we review our intelligence before we head out,“ Ignis spoke up. „An accidental run-in with Ravus will turn into a much greater challenge than facing any other commander. And not to forget; One of us should stay behind with Lady Iris and Talcott.“

„It’s okay, really.“ Iris tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. „I don’t need a babysitter.“

„A-and neither do I!“ Talcott stammered, looking up at her.

Noctis cast a sideways glance at the seven-year-old in the plaid shirt. Great. Now both of them were acting tough.

„But you need a protector,“ Gladio argued. „If something or someone escapes from the base during the commotion, they’ll be headed straight for Old Lestallum.“

„Oh. Alright, then,“ Iris relented.

„So, uh, who’s it gonna be?“ Prompto asked, looking from Iris to Ignis, Gladio and Noctis.

The Prince had not even begun to consider his options when Ardyn pointed a finger at each of his friends in turn. „Eenie meenie minie mo … Congratulations, dear Prompto! You shall stay behind with Lady Iris.“

„Why me?“

„Because you are a redundancy.“

Prompto gasped. „What!? I’m not redundant!“

„’Course you aren’t,“ Noctis crossed his arms and turned to Ardyn. „Also, they’re my retinue. I get to pick who stays.“

„Ah, but of course.“ In a show of respect, the Chancellor took a step back, bowing. „Pardon me.“

Noctis thought hard about who to choose. His team was well-balanced for any fight. Someone who could attack from afar, someone who blocked enemy attacks, and someone who coordinated them. No one was redundant per se. But, if he considered other skills needed during an infiltration, like stealth …

„Now then, who shall it be?“ Ardyn leaned into his field of view as if to put a bit of pressure on the decision making.

„Sorry, Prompto,“ Noctis begrudgingly said. „But we’ll need Iggy for tactics, and Gladio deserves to come with, because of Jared.“

„Aw, seriously?“

„Yours is an honest prince, I have to give you that,“ Ardyn said, looking pleased.

Iris gave Prompto one of her cheerful smiles. „We’ll find a way to pass the time.“

He nodded back at her. „Yeah.“

Ignis cleared his throat. „Now that this is decided, may I return your attention to the missing intel?“

In response, Noctis turned to the Chancellor once more. „Ardyn, you’re up. For real, this time.“

„I believe I can provide you with the information you seek in a matter of minutes,“ the Chancellor explained. „While I’m at it, however, allow me to inquire about the identity of the culprit you’re after.“ A wicked smile spread across his features as he pulled his old flip phone out of a coat pocket. „The blade of vengeance cuts so much deeper when it’s pointed at the right target, and I’d hate for you to waste your time and efforts chasing the wrong commander.“

„You’ll hear no objections from me,“ Noctis said, and Ardyn dialled a number.

He did not bother to walk out of hearing range this time, but Noctis stood too far away to listen in on the conversation, anyway. „I’m afraid I need another intel,“ Ardyn announced to whoever had picked up the call. „This one should be much easier to acquire, however.“

While the other person spoke in return, his expression shifted from confident to surprised. „Whatever makes you think so, Commodore? I retrieved the car from the High Commander fair and square. I’ve told you before that I’ve claimed the royal carriage for myself. Spoils of war and all that. A man of authority is entitled to one symbol of status, wouldn’t you agree? Surely, you too, would like to have a new airship?“

The annoyed groan coming from the speaker of his phone was audible even from a few steps away. Although he could not make out any words, Noctis eventually recognised the voice as that of the woman Ardyn had spoken to when the Regalia had gone missing.

With practised ease, the Chancellor switched topics. „There was something of an incident at Lestallum. A civilian was killed, and I’ve taken it upon myself to find the commander responsible for this crime. Such a heinous act must not go unpunished under the rule of his Radiance.“

Whatever she replied to that made him gasp. Ardyn put a hand to his chest, even though he could hardly fool anyone present with the gesture. „I’m shocked that you would think so poorly of me! Of course I care about each and every innocent soul lost in the turmoil of war. Why, there are two children here that are crying because they lost that dear, old man!“

Slightly irritated by his false pretence, Iris squinted her eyes at him. „Is he talking about Talcott and me?“

„Layin‘ it on thick again,“ Noctis said with a sigh.

„Take it down a notch,“ Gladio demanded, and Ardyn turned around to them with an angry glint in his eye.

„Hush! Can’t you see I’m on the phone?“

Ignis just shook his head at him.

The woman on the other end of the line continued to talk, and once Ardyn had returned his attention to her, his face lightened up again. „Splendid! Tell Ulldor that I am on my way and that I will have a word with him.“

He flipped his phone shut and turned back to Noct’s party. „You are in luck, my friends,“ he announced and gestured at the Imperial base past the Wennath River bridge. „You’ll find the commander in question right around the corner, at Fort Vaullerey.“

„And you’re gonna open that Imperial door for us?“ Noctis asked.

Wearing a sinister smirk, Ardyn cocked his head at him. „Better yet; I can take you straight to him.“

They parted ways with Prompto, Iris and Talcott at the Crow’s Nest across the street and let Ardyn drive them in his car to the stronghold. Inconspicuous or not, Noctis doubted that even the Imperial Chancellor could just stroll in with three fugitive Lucians in tow and not arouse any suspicion. Ardyn parked around a bend, just out of sight of the guard patrols. From there, it was only a short walk to the compound.

„May I ask just how you intend to get us inside?“ Ignis stepped out of the car and glanced over to the fortress with worry. „And in broad daylight, no less?“ A large portion of the surrounding area had been paved and fenced off. As soon as they stepped around the bend, the enemy could watch their every step. If there was a way to get inside undetected, it certainly was not easy.

Ardyn had already gone a few steps ahead and waited for them to catch up to him. With a wave of his hand, the air around them flickered, and when Noctis turned back to his friends, his gaze was met by the expressionless, green face plates of two identical magitek infantrymen. Startled, one of the units dropped into a fighting stance. Gladio gave himself away by summoning his greatsword from Noct’s armiger.

The other unit raised a hand to stop him. „It’s just us, Gladio.“ Although its mouth did not move, it spoke in Iggy’s voice.

„Come now, don’t you recognise your dear friends?“ Ardyn said. „Here, allow me to help. We don’t want you to get hurt, do we?“ He made another gesture, and in a flicker, the illusion lifted. Or, at least, it appeared to have lifted. Something still felt ever so slightly off.

Out of curiosity, Noctis consulted the side-view mirror of the Chancellor’s convertible. As expected, the face of a metal soldier still stared back at him, which led him to assume that the illusion had simply become invisible to them. Noctis turned from the car’s mirror to Ardyn. „MTs, huh?“

„You’ll have to play the part, of course,“ he explained and his ever-present smile stretched into a grin. „Now that I think of it, perhaps you should have taken Prompto along after all. He would have been a natural.“

Huffing at having been fooled, Gladio dismissed his sword. „What do you expect of us? Shut up and move in formation?“

„Plainly spoken, yes. I’d also appreciate it if you waited until I am out of sight before you assault the commander. Certainly, you will understand that I can no longer use my rank and name to your advantage if my involvement in your actions becomes apparent?“

„Yeah, figures,“ Noctis replied.

Ardyn took another step around the bend and beckoned them to follow. „Shall we, then?“

As the future ruler of Lucis, Noctis had learned a lot of odd, and, in his opinion, unnecessary ceremonial gestures and bits of etiquette, but he would have never thought he would end up using the parade march to pretend he was a machine soldier. Behind of him, Ignis and Gladio were trying hard to keep pace and stay in sync. Ardyn’s leisure stride was not exactly making it easy for any of them. When Ignis tapped his shoulder, Noctis let himself fall behind a little. They were already half-way to the gates and could not afford to draw much attention.

„What is it, specs?“

„As you know, the Chancellor sets a very bad example when it comes to vengeance,“ Ignis said in a hushed voice.

„You don’t have to tell me,“ Noctis replied. One good word about the Founder King and Ardyn could be cross for a day. It was downright scary.

„I understand your desire to deliver justice, but I need you to be aware that the commander will be of greater use to us alive. There are few humans in the Imperial military and MTs have a tendency to self-destruct when cornered. If we can capture the commander, he may yet spill valuable information before he faces his trial.“

„Don’t worry,“ Noctis replied. „I’m not hell-bent on killing the guy. What’s your plan, then?“

„I have already send a message to Hunter HQ. A group of allied hunters will wait for us on the other side of the fortress to take the culprit in for questioning. You only need to knock out the commander. I will handle the rest.“

„Got it,“ Noctis replied. He tensed as a squad of infantry units and a magitek armour twice their size walked past. For a second, he feared that they might have heard him or Ignis, but the fully automated machines paid no attention to either of them.

Noctis and his friends walked the rest of the way in silence. A simple knock on the thick metal gates of the stronghold, and they opened for the Imperial Chancellor.

The inside of the base was every bit as practical as it was bland to look at. Concrete walls separated the base into designated areas. Supplies were safely stashed away in large shipping containers, some of which had also been outfitted with doors and windows to turn them into mobile control centres. In one section of the base, the infamous drop ships of the Empire sat side by side, ready to take off on short notice. One in particular stood out to Noctis, due to being painted in bold red and black instead of the usual, dull grey. In comparison, he almost failed to spot the larger airship they had seen on their way to Old Lestallum. It had folded up in such a way that its wings formed walls and the signal tower stood erect in the middle of the base. A light at the top emitted a red glow in waves that seemingly caused energy to crackle around all magitek units in the compound.

Ardyn led them through the stronghold past rows of soldiers and armours on stand-by. On every corner, two or more riflemen stood watch, and single units manning gun turrets guarded each section of the base. At the sight of the Empire’s sheer numbers, Noctis understood why Ignis had warned him about rushing into an Imperial base unprepared.

They had not explored the entire stronghold yet when an older man with black hair stepped out of a container-turned-control room. He wore military armour in gold and red, decorated with emblems and insignias of the Empire.

„Ah, there you are!“ Ardyn greeted the man with his arms raised. „Commander Caligo Ulldor. You weren’t trying to sneak away in secret, were you?“

His gesture was met with a haughty glare. „I would never try to escape the hand of justice,“ the Commander replied. „Doing so would besmirch his Radiance’s good name.“ He cast a somewhat concerned glance at Noctis and his retainers before he turned his attention back to Ardyn. Apparently, he had spotted nothing out of the ordinary.

„But your actions back at Lestallum did not bring glory to the Empire, either. Quite the opposite, in fact.“ While Ardyn lectured the man, he continued to walk around him, which forced Noctis to put some extra effort into keeping pace.

„The man was hindering an official military investigation. It is well within my right to make an example of any Lucian who would try to hide the fugitive Prince.“

„Still, His Excellency would have liked to have a word with you before you resort to such measures. Unfortunately, it is too late for that already.“

Caligo’s eyes darted over to Noctis again. „Don’t tell me you brought those units with you to deliver a death sentence. I demand to be put before a trial or the Emperor himself. I shall not be judged by a mere politician!“

„Oh, those?“ The Chancellor turned around abruptly, and Noctis bit back a curse as he almost stumbled into him. There was a mischievous glint in Ardyn’s eye as their gazes met for the briefest of moments. „They are merely the latest models of infantry units, fresh from the primary production facility. I’m just giving them a, say, test run, on behalf of the Minister.“ With the same, nonchalant attitude, Ardyn turned back to Caligo, and his tone of voice suddenly switched from cheerful to dead serious.

„Execute him.“

For a second, Noctis was confused as to what Ardyn was expecting to happen. Were they supposed to attack on his command? Just minutes earlier, he had asked of them to wait until he was out of sight. It was tempting to just drop the act and go all out, sure, but then another second had passed and Noctis felt like, if he acted now, he would only end up looking like he missed the starting signal.

Whatever Ardyn’s intention had been, the look of horror on Caligo’s face was real just the same. The man had gone white as a sheet. Torn between running and staying, he stumbled a step back.

The almost palpable tension dissipated with Ardyn’s chuckle. „What’s the matter, Commander? You weren’t expecting them to open fire, were you? The new units have been outfitted with picture-book morals. They would never harm a fellow member of the Imperial army. Now, if magitek units can have picture-book morals, then so can you, surely?“

Caligo released a shaky breath, and colour rushed back to his face. He went straight from ghostly white to tomato red. „Picture-book morals!?“ he repeated, upset. „Only registered members of the army are authorised to issue kill commands. Of course they wouldn’t have opened fire!“

„Well, yes, both reasons can apply in this situation,“ Ardyn admitted, shrugging. „In any case, I leave the new units with you. Use them as you see fit, but be so kind and refrain from killing any more civilians for a while. You wouldn’t want to upset His Radiance, would you?“

Caligo huffed at him. „Of course not!“

Ardyn tipped his hat to the Commander. „I shall see you around, then.“ As he strode off, he cast another brief glance at the Prince as though he was prompting him to take the matter from here, but Noctis was really just standing in front of Caligo like a parcel ordered and not collected.

A few seconds passed in awkward silence while Caligo waited for the Chancellor to walk out of sight. Eventually, he looked back at Noctis, scrutinising and wary. „Picture-book morals. Like I would believe such nonsense,“ he mumbled to himself before addressing the fake magitek units. „Come. I will find some use for you.“

When he turned his back to them to guide them to some designated spot, Ignis gave Noctis a sign not to attack just yet. Ardyn had only just disappeared around a corner, but with the kind of vanishing acts he pulled, there was no telling where he had gone. For all Noctis knew, he might still be watching them from atop a guard tower.

While he waited for the opportunity to make his move, Caligo was still under the impression that he had been left alone with non-thinking, non-judging, and non-talking magitek soldiers. „Who does he think he is, playing judge, jury and executioner?“ he continued to rant. „I don’t remember him batting an eye before when a civilian was killed, so what’s he really after?“

Caligo was so engrossed in his thoughts that, even if the spell had worn off already, he would not have noticed. „Perhaps Izunia doesn’t want me to get my hands on the Prince and his retinue, seeing how I’ve successfully captured the girl for Besithia already. He must feel threatened by my accomplishments. Why else would he have send Highwind to watch me? If that insolent ex-mercenary beats me to the capture of the Crown Prince, I won’t get to call in a favour with His Excellency. Aldercapt needs loyal men like me in times like this, not upjumped street rats like her.“

Although the Commander was spilling information for free, Noctis, for his part, had already heard enough. Someone else could listen to the man’s self-important ramblings. In one motion, he retrieved the Engine Blade from his armiger and warp-struck at the Commander from behind. By using the blunt end of the sword’s handle, he easily managed to knock him down. Caligo collapsed to his feet, unconscious, but still breathing.

„He’ll never even know what hit him,“ Noctis said and bumped fists with Gladio.

„Well done, Noct. Keep it up,“ Ignis said. As planned, he took Caligo by his arms and dragged him away. Or, at least he tried to. The man was no taller than Ignis, but probably much heavier. Not just due to his physical build, but also due to the heavy metal armour he wore.

„Can you lend me a hand, Gladio?“

„Sure.“ Noct’s Shield grabbed the Commander by the shoulder plates of his armour and pulled him along, just like that. „Where do you want me to put him?“ He glanced over to a nearby container with scrap metal and smirked. „I’d know a place.“

„Is there something I can do to help?“ Noctis asked.

„You could create a diversion,“ Ignis suggested. „Make sure we aren’t spotted by drawing the enemies‘ attention away from us. Just remember to withdraw before you are overwhelmed by the number of MTs.“ Behind of him, on top of the scaffolding that connected the guard towers, two magitek snipers turned towards the intruders and raised their rifles. Ardyn’s illusion must have worn off.

„Already on it.“ Noctis threw his sword at a sniper and warped after it. The greater the distance, the more forceful the warp-strike. His blade pierced the metal soldier’s chest and knocked the MT to the grated floor. Miasma-like smoke and red sparks rose from the hole in its armour when Noctis pulled his sword back out.

He zipped across the scaffolding from one sniper to another. In just one breath, he managed to take down not just two, but four soldiers before any of them could have opened fire on his friends.

„We’ll be as fast as we can,“ Ignis shouted up to him. Another magitek unit walked into the section of the base. Just as it spotted Gladio dragging the Commander away, Ignis struck it down with two well-placed daggers to the face and chest.

„Just go! I got this,“ Noctis replied.

For once, he knew exactly what to do. If he blew up that signal tower from earlier, he was bound to gain the attention of every magitek unit in the base. Noctis ran across the scaffolding, warped up to a guard tower and took out the soldier manning the gun turret in one go. From there, he point-warped back down, into the area protected by the upturned wings of the transport ship. Having more magic at his disposal meant more consecutive warping without needing to worry about magical exhaustion. Still, if there was one thing more Royal Arms in his armiger could not fix, it was his inability to cast elemental magic directly. His dad had been really good at it. Even as Regis‘ powers had waned and weakened, he had still been able to summon bolts of lightning from his hands. Noctis had to resort to using flasks instead.

Walking up to the control panel of the signal tower, he summoned a magic flask brimming with fire energy from his armiger and hurled it at the construction from a safe distance.

The instant the glass shattered, a fiery explosion ripped the metal apart and singed the surrounding walls. With one, final emission of energy and a creaking noise, the tower bent and toppled.

Just a moment later, a siren began blaring at the other end of the stronghold, not quite loud enough to drown out the whirring of heavy metal joints behind of Noctis. He turned around and came face-to-face with an automated magitek armour. Riflemen were streaming past the armour’s claw-footed stilts into the area of the signal tower to surround him. Now, this was the kind of fight Noctis had been looking for when he had thought of infiltrating the stronghold.

He unleashed the Royal Arms from his armiger all at once and let them swirl around him to keep the soldiers at bay while he took aim at the missile launcher on the armour’s back. With a single warp-strike, he tore the component clean off.

At about the time, a shield-like device activated on one of the armour’s limbs. Red lightning crackled around it, and a bolt knocked Noctis out of the air and onto the concrete floor.

Knowing that there were riflemen waiting to get a clean shot at him, he quickly jumped back to his feet. Noctis called the Royal Arms close to him, let their magic lift him off the ground and sent all of his weapons by the force of his will at the stilts and limbs of the MT armour. machine guns were torn off, joints broke, hydraulic lines snapped and the cockpit of the armour collapsed into a puddle of oil.

A stray spark ignited the mixture.

In the nick of time, Noctis managed to warp to safety before the explosion sent the armour’s remains flying like shrapnel. Many of the riflemen nearby were torn apart by bits and pieces of metal.

The Royal Arms surrounding Noctis shattered into soul crystals. Already, their combined magical strength had run out, even though Noctis himself still had plenty of magic left. He had yet to figure out how to keep the sacred arms summoned for prolonged periods of time.

It did not take long for more magitek units to arrive to replace their fallen comrades. In between the ones that were running towards him and others that were shooting at something else, Noctis spotted Ignis and Gladio fighting their way through. By swinging his greatsword once all around, Gladio whipped up a right storm. MTs were flung back like ragdolls. A path between them cleared and Noct ran over to join his friends.

„I’m glad to see at least you have accomplished something,“ Ignis said as the two of them stood back to back.

„Does that mean you haven’t?“

„The moment we turned our backs on the hunters, they were ambushed by a command ship,“ Ignis explained and threw another magic flask into a squad of magitek axemen. „We were forced to retreat. I fear Caligo has escaped during the scuffle.“

In one fell swoop, Gladio took down two more MTs. „He’ll die another day,“ he added. The angry undertone to his voice told Noctis he was chiding himself for letting the culprit get away.

With every second that passed, the number of soldiers surrounding them dwindled further, but more Imperial forces were on their way. The commotion was slowly drawing them in from all corners of the compound.

„Noct!“

It was Ignis who directed their attention to the red painted magitek engine hovering high above their heads. Its backside opened, and a silver-haired woman in black armour stepped precariously close to the edge. She drew a spear from her back that appeared to be made from shifting parts. A red glow shone from within the spear tip. The woman lowered the barred visor of her helmet and jumped off the tailgate.

Noctis paused. A fall from this height, without a parachute or magical abilities, was going to be lethal.

In mid-air, the woman swung her spear underneath of her feet and drove its tip down with her heel. The faster she descended, the faster she spun around.

„Fall back!“ Ignis shouted.

They cleared the area of impact in time. The spear tip released a shockwave a split-second before she crashed down. Underneath of her, the concrete floor cracked. Nearby MTs were sent flying by the force. Before Noct or any of his friends could act, the woman jumped again, this time straight at Noctis. Somehow, the spear enabled her to cross the distance with ease.

He brought up his sword to defend himself and a part of the spear interlocked with his blade. For a moment, he stared the woman straight into the eye.

„Hey there, pretty boy.“ Behind the bars of her helmet, she wore a challenging smirk. „You wanna go? Let’s see what you’re made of.“ There was no mistaking it; She was the woman Ardyn had spoken to on the phone. Her spear gave off another shockwave, and while Noctis struggled not to get knocked back, she put some distance between them with an elegant backflip.

The Commodore landed closest to Gladio, who seized the chance to lunge at her. She deflected his blow and dodged the daggers thrown by Ignis before thrusting her spear forward. In the same motion, the parts of the weapon’s tip shifted and released a blast of red energy.

Noctis had never seen someone fight like her before, let alone with such style. The spear enabled her to jump high and far, effectively allowing her to lunge at them from unusual angles. In the heat of battle, the parts of the weapon also shifted to release blasts of magitek energy, create a temporary barrier or launch her off the ground. Getting used to that versatility took some time. Although she was outnumbered, the Commodore had them at a disadvantage, and somehow, Noctis got the impression that she was only playing with them.

While Ignis kept her distracted with quick swipes, Gladio went in for another strike from behind. She forced Ignis back with a roundslash and blocked Gladio’s attack in due time, but nearly lost her grip on the spear due to the force with which their weapons clashed.

Noctis seized the chance to close in with a warp-strike. His blade met the stick of her spear, and she stumbled back by a few steps so as not to get thrown off her feet.

„Hey, not bad!“ she exclaimed.

„Just who are you?“ he asked.

She chuckled. „Only the single most competent fighter in the Imperial army. Bet you wish I’d be fighting on your side.“

Noctis found himself laughing back at her. „Keep dreaming!“ He phased out of the way to dodge her next swing. It was strange, but the fight against her was starting to feel like a tough training session with Gladio, not a real life-or-death match against a member of the Empire. Hell, he was having fun.

In an attempt to catch her unaware, Noctis threw a spear from his armiger, but then followed up his sword. After the fifth successful hit or so that send her backwards, the Commodore activated the thrust of her spear to jump up onto a wall of the stronghold and out of their reach.

„Sorry, boys! Duty calls!“ she teased them. „I could just ignore it, of course, but if I’m getting a pay cut, I’d be working for free.“ Chuckling, she leaned precariously over the edge. „Let’s play again some other time.“ With another enhanced jump, she leapt back onto the tailgate of her airship.

Noctis and his friends were left behind to watch it fly off.

When he glanced around, he discovered that no more than a handful of heavily damaged magitek soldiers were left from their earlier battle. The ones that had survived the explosion of the MT armour and the fight with his party had met their end as collateral damage during the sparring session with the Commodore. Perhaps the squads and armours out on patrol were still intact, but for the most part, this stronghold had been put out of commission. In a way, Noctis was not even upset that they had failed to capture Caligo.

The adrenalin slowly faded from his system as he and his friends made their way back to the red convertible parked around the bend. Behind them, smoke rose from the Imperial base and the siren still blared, but he doubted there was anyone left in the vicinity who cared.

Ardyn was leaning against the driver door when they approached. „You certainly took your time,“ he said. „I may assume you have been especially thorough mopping up the fort?“

„Don’t act like you wouldn’t know,“ Noctis replied. He was more or less certain that Ardyn had stuck around to watch from some shady corner of the stronghold.

„Truly, you overestimate my capabilities, Noctis. I can only watch so many at a time.“

„Caligo got away,“ he admitted.

There was a moment of surprised silence between them before Ardyn’s expression darkened. „Please tell me this is your generation’s idea of a joke,“ he said in a serious and rather threatening tone of voice. „I all but literally handed the man to you on a silver platter and you allow him to escape? Even I refuse to believe that you are this incapable.“

„Relax, Ardyn,“ Noctis said in an attempt to ease the situation. He was not happy about it, either, but things could have also gone much worse. „I knocked him out from behind. He’s not gonna link it back to you.“

„Next time, he won’t be so lucky to get away alive,“ Gladio promised.

„Had you killed the man, we would not need to worry about a next time.“ Ardyn shook his head in incomprehension and sighed deeply. „Alas, it appears revenge has a different meaning to you and I.“

„It does,“ Noctis confirmed.

„Absolutely,“ Ignis agreed and walked around to the passenger side of Ardyn’s car. „By the way, we met your informant.“

„Commodore Aranea Highwind?“

„Is that her name?“ Noctis asked.

„Capable and reliable people like her are rare in the Imperial army, but she doesn’t have much to offer in the way of manners, I’m afraid.“

Not five minutes later, they had returned to the parking lot at Old Lestallum and entered the Crow’s Nest diner across the street, where Prompto, Iris and Talcott sat in a booth opposite of a slightly older, dark-haired woman with large, round glasses. The stranger was talking a mile a minute, something about odd-coloured monsters and shifts in the ecosystem. She was talking so much, in fact, even Prompto did not get a word in. Iris and Talcott, too just listened whilst absentmindedly munching on their fries.

„Hey, Sania,“ Gladio greeted the stranger, and somehow, Noctis got the feeling they were about to be involved in another side-quest.

Chapter Text

„Noct! Hey, Noct, buddy!“

When Noctis came to, he found himself lying face-down on the cold, damp earth in some forest. He rolled onto his back, feeling dizzy, disoriented at first, but the sensation quickly faded away. Past the dark canopy of trees, stars twinkled in the night sky. A faint glow from the horizon heralded the break of dawn.

Prompto had crouched down beside him and leaned into his field of view. „You okay?“ he asked.

Noctis pushed himself up into a sitting position. „I think so.“

He did not feel hurt, at least not more than he usually did after a day of hiking and fighting monsters. And what a long day it had been. He had managed to get in a bit of rest after the ordeal at Fort Vaullerey, but they had been up and about for quite some time since. A few scratches and bruises were nothing out of the ordinary.

Looking around, Noctis discovered that Gladio, too, was only just standing up. Whatever had hit them must have hit them pretty hard, to knock out even him. The only one on his feet was Ignis. He stood in the clearing behind Prompto and was apparently trying to figure out where they were and what had gotten them into this situation.

The latter was something Noctis would have liked to know as well. Thinking back to the previous day, he remembered their encounter with wildlife researcher Sania Yeagre, who had asked them to find some peculiarly coloured frogs in exchange for looking after Iris and Talcott. It was supposed to be a quick and simple job, nothing that would hold them up for long. But then they had spent the whole evening trying to catch the damn things, only to be ambushed by a Nagarani daemon just as they had decided to return to Old Lestallum for the night. In hindsight, they really should have paid more attention to nightfall instead of shrugging it off, thinking “no worries, we can handle daemons”.

The Nagarani had turned out to be one of the toughest opponents Noctis and his retinue had faced thus far. None of the daemons they had encountered, not even the equally snake-like Naga, had possessed as strange abilities as this one. Noctis explicitly recalled the Nagarani’s ability to petrify his companions with its gaze.

With the Chancellor’s help the fight might have been a lot easier, but Ardyn had refused to help them, saying that they had to learn not to rely on him for every little thing. Which no one really did, because he could not be bothered to help them with the little things most of the time, anyway. He had probably just meant to teach them a lesson for dragging him along on this most unnecessary side quest. Apparently frog-catching simply did not have enough dramatic flair to interest him.

„Last thing I remember is us fighting a daemon,“ Noctis told Prompto. „But nothing after that. What happened?“

His friend turned around to Ignis, seemingly waiting for an explanation himself.

Sighing, Ignis adjusted his glasses. „It is rather embarrassing to say, but I am afraid the daemon has turned all of us into frogs.“

„Uh, what?“ Noctis uttered, unable to believe what he just heard.

„You’re kidding,“ Gladio said. „Right?“

„The daemon got the two of you first,“ Ignis continued. „That’s how I saw it happen.“

„I don’t mean to complain, but …“ Prompto said and got up. „Why are we still alive then? That thing could’ve eaten us easily.“

„Don’t tell me …“ Gladio started and Ignis nodded affirmingly.

„We can safely assume that Ardyn saved our sorry behinds.“

Noctis finally rose from the ground as well. His clothes were filthy from rolling through the mud, dodging the Nagarani’s bites and tail swipes. The sooner they returned to civilisation, the better. He adjusted the clip-on light on his jacket to illuminate his surroundings. The approaching dawn also helped to shed some light on the wilderness.

„Speaking of the Chancellor … Where is he?“ he asked.

„Well, about that …“ Iggy stepped aside to reveal a bright red frog sitting on the ground behind him.

Prompto gasped. „No way!“

The amphibian looked surprisingly calm, but then again, the frogs they had caught for Sania had not been disturbed by human presence in their territory, either.

„Nah, I don’t believe it.“ Noctis crossed his arms in front of his chest. „Ardyn’s part daemon. He’s not gonna fall victim to a spell like that.“

„It seems to be the only logical conclusion to explain his absence,“ Ignis argued, bending down to examine the frog more closely.

Prompto looked from him to Noctis and back, obviously unsure of who could be right.

„Could be that he ditched us for boring him to death,“ Noctis said.

Gladio walked over to him and Prompto. „Then I’d like to know how he plans on returning to Old Lestallum without us.“

As usual, Ignis was the first to come up with a plan. „I suggest we head back and see if he’s waiting at the Regalia.“

„But just in case …“ Prompto crouched down and gently scooped the red frog up into his hands. It made no attempt to hop away. „Let’s take this little buddy with us.“

They quickly regained their bearings and made their way out of the forest, into the direction of the nearest road.

„It can’t be Ardyn,“ Noctis continued to argue as Prompto walked beside him with the red frog in his hands. „It makes no sense. If that was him, why didn’t he turn back when we did?“ For some reason, the more he thought about it, the less certain he got. The classical symptom of overthinking a problem.

Iggy’s attempt to find an answer to that question did not help, either. „We know he possesses all sorts of strange powers. It stands to reason that the spell works slightly different on him than it did on us.“

One by one they emerged out of the bushes and arrived back at the side of the road. The Regalia stood there, still parked as they had left it, but the Niff Chancellor was nowhere to be seen.

Smirking ominously, Gladio looked back at the frog in Prompto’s hands. „There’s one surefire way to find out if it’s him.“

„How?“ the young gunner asked cluelessly.

„Let’s try to kill it. If it’s Ardyn, it can’t die.“

Shocked by his suggestion, Prompto jerked his hands away. „What? No! I won’t let you hurt him!“

„Look who got attached so quickly.“

Prompto held the frog close to his chest, but actually found the guts to step up to Gladio. „It’s just not right.“ he argued, nodding sharply.

„Yeah, killing’s out of the question,“ Noctis agreed. He did not think Ardyn would like to wake up with a dagger in his chest, though it was far more likely they just ended up killing a frog for no reason whatsoever. Just then, he thought he heard a familiar sounding chuckle coming from somewhere nearby, but when he turned to look at the Regalia again, its seats were still empty.

„Alright, then what do we do?“ Gladio asked.

„We can always ask Miss Yeagre about the frog,“ Ignis suggested. „And if it isn’t him, I suspect he’ll show up by himself.“

„Fair enough,“ Noctis said and glanced over his shoulder. He had a feeling that Ardyn was indeed not too far away. „I bet Prompto’ll take good care of him until then. So, what do we call him?“

„Seriously?“ Gladio gave him a strange look as though he was questioning his sanity.

In no time at all, Prompto had come up with name suggestions. „The Frog Chancellor? Frog Ardyn? Frogdyn?“

„I think that’s quite enough.“

They all turned to their car to see a cloud of miasma gathering in the passenger seat, revealing the Chancellor sitting there with his elbow resting on the closed door.

„Well, who have we got here?“ Gladio said.

„Ardyn!“ Prompto exclaimed in relief.

Noctis felt rather smug knowing that he had been right all along. Putting his hands on his hips, he flashed a confident smile. „‘Fraid you’re too late. We already named it. It’s part of the team now.“ Ardyn chuckled in response. He seemed to have taken no offence at having been replaced by a frog, possibly because he knew Noctis had not been serious about it.

„Well, haven’t we all had fun tonight? But everything must come to an end eventually. I say it’s past time we returned to town.“

„Gotta agree on that,“ Noctis replied and opened the back door of the Regalia. There was a lot of sleep he had to catch up on after that all-nighter. Being unconscious did not make up for the loss of sleep. Not for him, anyway.

Gladio and Prompto walked over to the other side of the Regalia.

„I think you can leave the frog, Prompto,“ Ignis said as he saw him stepping into the car still with the amphibian in his hands.

Noct’s friend paused for a moment. „I thought, seeing how I brought … Frogdyn with us already, we might as well give him to Sania. Actually, do you think I could put him into the armiger?“

„Sure, go ahead,“ Ardyn replied instantly, not even turning around to spare him a glance.

„What? No!“ Noctis spat out, surprised by Ardyn’s lie. „You can’t put living things into the armiger. They’d die.“

„O-okay!“ Gasping, Prompto let himself fall onto the middle of the back seat.

Noctis sat down next to him and leaned forward to grab the Chancellor’s attention. „You just want to live down that prank, don’t you?“

„Oh, do I, now?“

„In all seriousness, though; Thanks for saving our hides back there.“

„You can return the favour by bringing my fedora to the nearest laundry, to wash off the spot of mucus you left.“ Ardyn replied nonchalantly.

Noctis felt his calm expression fall apart as he was hit by a sudden twinge of disgust and confusion. „I left what?“

#-#-#

Earlier that night …

When the Nagarani blew green mist on Noctis and his companions, Ardyn had known what would happen. In fact, he had been looking forward to watching the four of them desperately trying to undo the spell. What he had not anticipated, however, was for all of them to fall under its effect at the same time.

Out of the mist hopped four, bright green, croaking frogs.

Talk about a let-down. They would not even know what had hit them by the time they returned to their original forms.

He turned his attention from the frogs to the Nagarani. The snake-like daemon reared up, readying itself to devour the bite-sized prince and his friends. Something he obviously could not let happen.

Just as the daemon snapped at them, Ardyn shadow-stepped in front of his companions and delivered a dark-magic powered punch to its face. The Nagarani recoiled.

„No! Bad daemon,“ Ardyn said, earning only a hiss from the creature in return. He shook out one hand and summoned the Rakshasa Blade in the other. Judging by the look on the Nagarani’s all-too-human face, it was annoyed, angry, but most importantly, unafraid. It belonged to those daemons that were too powerful to be impressed by Ardyn’s mere presence.

„Allow me to put this into words even you will understand:“ he announced as he tilted his head up to meet the daemon’s cold-eyed stare and made a display of his powers by letting the scourge spill from his eyes. „This is my prey.“

The Nagarani’s head shot down at him, with jaws split wider than a human mouth would allow. Its bright yellow eyes emitted a glare in an attempt to petrify him, but Ardyn barely even felt the spell grazing him. He stepped aside to avoid the Nagarani’s bite, then brought his sword around in a long arc for a devastating strike that cut the woman’s head clean from the snake’s body. It convulsed one last time before dispersing into particles.

Well, at the very least the boys had been able to deliver a fair amount of damage to the daemon or even Ardyn might have needed a few more strikes to take it down.

He turned around to his charges and found three of them hopping away, each into a different direction.

Ardyn sighed deeply. What a mess. If they were to blame him, he was not going to object. After all, they considered him to be the daemon expert of their mismatched group, and even he was cursing himself now for not having warned them of the Nagarani’s spell.

Ardyn dropped his hat onto Noctis. – The lazy frog had to be Noctis, right? They were pretty much indistinguishable from one another. Anyway, he dropped his hat onto that one to keep it still, then rushed over to the frog that was about to hop into the underbrush and disappear from his sight. Prompto, probably, if the sheer amount of energy in those legs was anything to go by. He did not resist as Ardyn grabbed him, but it took him several attempts to actually lift him off the ground. Those amphibians were more slippery than he had thought. And covered in a thin layer of slime. His coat would be due for a dry cleaning after this. Keeping one frog pressed to his chest, he swiftly rounded up the other two before returning to collect Noctis. Apparently, the frog prince had chosen to make his escape too by then. Ardyn’s fedora was hopping about in a circle.

Seriously, the boys had no idea how lucky they were to have him looking after them. Or how well-disposed he was towards them in general, given what fate originally had in store.

With three frogs in his arms and another sitting a little too comfortably in his upside-down hat, Ardyn walked away from where they had fought the Nagarani. He did not want to lose them in the nearby pond, among the other frogs Miss Yeagre had asked them to collect. The spell lasted only for a minute or two, but even frogs could get far in that time. Of course, he could have used a Maiden’s Kiss on them, but why bother wasting precious resources when there was no immediate danger around?

One frog kept trying to bite into his sleeve as Ardyn made his way deeper into the forest. So that one had to be Gladio. How typical for him to show no appreciation for Ardyn’s help whatsoever.

A full three seconds after he had put the four of them down on the ground, he lost track of who was who again. Perhaps he should have cast an illusion on them showing their ridiculous hairstyles to keep them apart.

He spent another couple of seconds herding the frogs together until, with a puff of green smoke, Ignis and Prompto reverted to their original forms. The rest of them scattered, but they could only be seconds away from turning back as well.

Ignis immediately lost consciousness. Unlike him, Prompto was awake, but so dizzy and confused that he could barely stand. Ardyn grabbed him by his sleeve to keep him upright, but to no avail. The poor lad collapsed to his feet. Ah, well. It was their first time getting hit by such a powerful spell. Ardyn decided to let them rest for now. Smirking, he looked down upon Prompto’s innocent face. There was still enough time to surprise them with a little prank when they got to.

Ardyn quickly shadow-stepped to the pond and back, returning with one of the red frogs Miss Yeagre had asked for.

In the meantime, Noctis and Gladio had turned back as expected and were lying not too far from Prompto and Ignis.

He placed the red frog where they would find it easily upon waking, then let himself dissolve into miasma and drift atop the trees to watch and wait.

Chapter Text

Noctis was starting to believe that getting from point A to B in Lucis without distractions was somewhat impossible. He did not mind the extra stops, though, because every time Ignis had pulled over, another small adventure had awaited them. It had turned their journey into a real road trip, and Prompto had been documenting every step of their way with photos.

Eventually, they arrived at Cape Caem, the abandoned lighthouse at the southernmost coast of Duscae. A partially overgrown path led from the bend in the road, where they had parked their cars, to the lighthouse on top of the cliff and the former lighthouse keeper’s home next to it. Over the years, wind and rain had worn on the wooden exterior of the house, but there was no such damage that could not be fixed with a few new planks. As scenic as the view of the sea was, it was unlikely that people came looking for the fugitive Lucians in such an abandoned place.

There were no signs of Monica or any other Crownsguard member nearby, but Cid and Cindy were unexpectedly present. It turned out that Jared had contacted Cid, way back from Lestallum, and asked him to check King Regis’ old yacht for damages. The boat lay in dock at a hidden harbour in a flooded cave underneath of the lighthouse. Apparently, old man Jared had planned ahead to provide Noctis and his friends with a way to cross the sea to Altissia despite of the Imperial blockades.

Iris chose to stay with Talcott at the old house and begin to dust off the interior until the Crownsguard arrived, while the rest of them had a chat with Cindy and Cid in the meantime. It turned out that the old yacht was in dire need of repairs, and more importantly, that Cid lacked some oddly specific parts to get its engine back up and running. He insisted that the most important replacement part needed to be fashioned from Mythril ore, a rare and valuable material only found in the ancient and daemon-infested Solheim ruins. Talcott then suggested that they tried their luck at Steyliff Grove near the Vesperpool far up north, one of the more easily accessible ruins.

#-#-#

Noctis, Prompto and Ignis were well on their way from Cape Caem's lighthouse back to where they had parked the Regalia. They were about to set out to find the Mythril ore that Cid had insisted was absolutely vital to repair Regis' old yacht. A rare and valuable ore only found in ancient Solheim ruins, but Gladio was certain that Noctis and the others would find one it easily enough without his help.

When Gladio had told them he had to take care of “business” of his own and would not be accompanying them for a while, they had accepted it without any questions asked. The only exception, of course, was Ardyn. Even after everyone else had left and Gladio had sent Iris back into the house, he stuck around.

Noctis waved at the Chancellor from afar. “What's taking you so long?” he called over to him.

“Go on ahead,” Ardyn called back. “I'll be with you in a moment.”

With more pressing matters on his mind, Gladio was in no particular mood to endure his presence or the questioning that would doubtlessly follow. “Alright, let's get this over with,” he said and crossed his arms. “What do you want?”

“Why so sceptical? I was merely wondering where you might be headed,” Ardyn replied.

“This is none of your concern.”

“Oh, but I am concerned for his Majesty's safety,” the Chancellor claimed, laying it on so thick, anyone could have spotted the lie. “Someone has to make sure his retinue stays in line.”

“I am not falling out of line,” Gladio stressed, feeling a little offended. “I am doing this for him.”

“Do you not trust me enough to tell me what this so-called business of yours is?”

“I trust you not to plunge that red sword of yours into Noctis' back while I'm not around, and that's about it.”

Gladio, who just about had enough of this conversation, walked past him. It was about time he got going, anyway. Cor was waiting for him.

Successfully shaking Ardyn off, however, was another matter entirely.

“In that case,” the Chancellor's voice sounded behind him, “I suppose I will have to ask our prince what he thinks about you going on adventures all by yourself.”

Grumbling in frustration, Gladio stopped. If Ardyn was really going to push that topic with Noct, he would cause him to worry about his Shield – And rightfully so, because there was a chance Gladio was not coming back. A discussion would ensue, and all of that was exactly why Gladio had not wanted to talk about it.

Reluctantly, he turned around. “I'm going to the Tempering Grounds,” Gladio finally admitted. “It's a place for protectors of Lucian Royalty only.”

Ardyn closed the distance between them. “How curious. I've never heard of such a place. Why don't you tell me more about it?”

“Because there is nothing for you there.”

“That'll be for me to decide. But of course, I could always turn to my dearest nephew for answers.”

Gladio sighed. It should have come as no surprise to him that Ardyn used this leverage to its full extent.

“Since the days of yore,” he explained “, members of the Crownsguard have gone to the Tempering Grounds to test their strength and mettle, and I intend to do the same. If we're going to fight more Astrals, I need to make sure I can keep Noct safe.”

“Then why keep such a noble cause from your protégé?”

“Very few make it back. Those who are deemed unworthy are killed by the Blademaster.”

Something about that statement caused the Chancellor to blink at him as though he had been woken from a daydream.

“Excuse me, did you just say Blademaster?”

Gladio did not know what had piqued his curiosity, but he got a bad feeling about it.

“Yeah. The Blademaster,” he repeated. “Also known as Gilgamesh. Don't tell me you know the guy?”

All of a sudden, Ardyn broke out into the loudest, most bizarre laughter he had ever heard.

Gladio raised an eyebrow at him, almost certain he had just witnessed the man go from crazy to crazier.

“Want me to pick up those marbles you've just lost?”

It took a while for the Chancellor to catch his breath and regain his composure.

“Please, do forgive me. It's just, I never even dreamed he might still be around. Gilgamesh used to my brother's shield, and many years before that, he was protector to us both.” Grinning excitedly, Ardyn held out an arm as if to invite Gladio. “What say, we take him on together? This is going to be a most promising challenge!”

It was more than obvious that their goals had only aligned by chance. Once again, the Chancellor had ideas of his own.

“That is not how it works,” Gladio insisted. “I need to undertake these trials by myself.”

The joyous expression fell from Ardyn's face. “Rubbish! Who made these rules?”

“That's just common sense. How am I to know if I am strong enough if someone else is interfering?”

“Fine,” the Chancellor said and stepped back. “Do it by yourself, then. I wish you the best of luck.”

Although Gladio was somewhat glad to see him wander off, the fact that he had let the topic slide without further arguing left him with an uncomfortable feeling.

Ardyn turned back to him one last time. “Oh, by the way; I'd make haste to see the Blademaster if I were you.”

From the distance, Gladio watched the Chancellor walk all the way to the road that ran past Cape Caem, where Noctis and the others were impatiently waiting in front of the Regalia. The four of them exchanged a few words and eventually parted ways. Instead of driving off with the prince, Ardyn headed to his own car parked further down the road.

This moment was more than enough to confirm Gladio's suspicion.

“Dammit. He's gonna mess everything up,” he said to himself, grinding his teeth. The Chancellor was going after Gilgamesh and Gladio had sent him there by accident. Worse yet, he had no means to stop someone of his rank and power. If he really wanted to prove his worth to the Blademaster, he would have to do it before Ardyn got into the depths of the Tempering Grounds.

Gladio immediately got out his mobile and called Cor to come and pick him up as quickly as possible.

“Why the sudden change of plans?” Cor asked.

“The Chancellor of Niflheim is going to beat us to the Tempering Grounds if we don't get a move on right now,” Gladio explained while jogging towards the road.

“I'll be there as fast as I can.”

#-#-#

Looking back on it, the swamp of Alstor Slough suddenly appeared to be as dry as a savannah – at least when compared to the area around the Vesperpool, the lake in the far north of Lestallum. Water was everywhere they went. As if the mud reaching up to Noctis' ankles, the swamp water in his boots and the tropical climate were not bad enough, it was pouring down on him and his comrades as though Ramuh wanted to punish him. The only good thing about the rain was that it kept the mosquitoes from eating them alive, so perhaps the Stormsender was just helping them in a really roundabout way. Iggy's dark blonde strands stuck to his face and glasses as opposed to defying gravity in an orderly manner by the power of hairgel, and Prompto's hairstyle was beginning to resemble a drenched Chocobo chick. Noct had to laugh at that, although he probably looked no better than them. Well, at least he usually styled his hair down.

The three of them had fought their way past a couple of Sahagins and Gigantoads, as well as a squad of MTs patrolling the roads, and were nearing the overgrown and partially submerged entrance to the ancient Solheim ruins that Talcott had told them about. Finally, the rain let up as well, turning into a light drizzle. Not that it mattered much at this point.

From afar, Noctis spotted even more MTs stationed about the area. Although he was more than confident that he and his friends could handle the Empire in such small numbers, Noctis wondered whether Ardyn's influence was waning after having travelled with him for so long or whether he had simply forgotten that there was an entire squad that needed to be pulled off. He had told Noctis that he would help to clear the path to Steyliff Grove and the Mythril inside even when he was not around. Of course, he had not explained how he had intended to do that, but Noctis trusted him to keep his word.

Interestingly, none of the MTs engaged them as they passed by. In front of the ruin's entrance stood three people in military clothing, among which was a slender-built, silver-haired woman wearing a black and red armour.

“Commodore Aranea Highwind,” Ignis reminded Prompto and Noctis.

She signalled her men to stay back as she walked up to them. “Look who we've got here. If it isn't the Prince.” She greeted Noct with a challenging smile, lowered her spiked visor and drew the spear from her back. “You're here to finish our match? I'll gladly play with you again.”

“We're not here to fight you,” Ignis clarified.

“Such a spoilsport,” she said. “You're just afraid I'll send you packing without the big guy around.”

“We can take you on any time!” Prompto boasted.

“Keep dreaming, Blondie.”

“Listen,” Noctis said, still trying to avoid the fight she was itching for, “the Chancellor sends us. Didn't you get a notice or anything?”

Aranea chuckled. “Yeah right. As if you'd be in league with him. Why don't we settle this in a fight? I'm dying of boredom just waiting around.” She charged at Noctis, and he phased out of the way just as she swung her spear at him.

“Wait, just – wait a second!” he called out, but she just kept going.

Ignis sliced at her with daggers in hand, driving her back for a moment.

In the meantime, Noctis quickly got out his phone with one hand to text Ardyn whilst summoning his sword in the other.

At steylif grove. Araneas fightin us

He deflected a strike.

Cant u tell her 2 backoff or sth

Trying to focus on two things at once proved too much, and Prompto and Ignis could keep her occupied only for so long. With an impressive roundslash, Aranea cleared the space around her. She jumped at Noctis, hitting both his phone and sword from his hands and threw him onto his stomach. A moment later he felt the heel of her boot dig into his back, provoking his old wound as if to add insult to injury.

“No one ever told you not to text and fight at the same time?”, she asked him.

“I was trying not to fight you,” Noct grumbled.

Just then, the ringing of a phone interrupted the conversation. It was Aranea's. She pulled out a smart phone – Noctis could not see from where, but he was surprised her clothes and armour held room for pockets at all.

“Funny you're calling,” she said to the person on the other end of the line. “I'm just about to gift wrap the prince of Lucis and send him to Gralea.”

Noctis wriggled underneath her boot, trying to turn around, but she would not let him.

“Huh, right.” Aranea looked down on him with a surprised expression. “So that's them. Could've fooled me.”

Finally, she removed her foot from Noctis' back and allowed him to sit up.

“Sure,” she said, still talking to the caller, before handing her phone to Noctis.

He did not need to ask why or who wanted to talk to him. He just knew.

“Why, I am thoroughly disappointed in you,” Ardyn's voice sounded from the speaker of the phone. “You're not supposed to go down so easily.”

“Dude, I didn't want to fight her!” Noctis snapped at him.

“So you've been messaging me instead. Remind me to teach you proper spelling sometime.” Ardyn clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “This will not do at all!”

“Yeah, well, I'd like to see you typing while dodging attacks!”

A loud, bestial screech sounded from wherever Ardyn currently was, followed by an even louder crash and the rumbling of moving rocks.

“Where the hell are you?” Noctis asked, perplexed. “Are you fighting right now?”

“Of course not. Only a fool would fight and make a call at the same time. Which is also why I have to hang up now. Be nice to the Commodore, alright? She is a … how do you always say? A badass fighter?” The expression made him sound like someone's dad trying to act cool and failing miserably. “In any case, she will fill in for your missing Shield, so don't cross her.”

And with that, he hung up. Noctis returned the mobile to Aranea and she offered him a hand to pull him back to his feet. An offer he gladly accepted.

“So,” she said, lifting her visor. “Turns out you're the new recruits sent here for special training. I can't really stand that charmer of a Chancellor, but I can stand you, so I'll do you the favour.”

Ignis looked relieved to be able to dismiss his daggers. “Isn't it rather so that he will remove you from your position if you don't comply?”, he asked Aranea.

“Watch me gave a damn,” she replied, unfazed. “I was thinking about leaving the Empire, anyway. Things've gotten just too weird lately.”

Noctis let out a breath he did not even know he had been holding. “Tell me about it!”

#-#-#

According to legend, Taelpar Crag had been the result of a great battle between the treacherous Pyreburner and the Bladekeeper during the war of the Astrals. Gladio found it fairly easy to imagine when looking at the strange formations of rocks and crystals. The sight might have been even more impressive, had he not been forced to take it all in while jogging down walkways made of half-rotten wood, through caves and along crumbling rock faces.

Gladio had just passed the entrance to the second trial and made his way across a large rock serving as a natural bridge to connect both sides of the canyon. Ever wary, he expected monsters to jump at him from any where, at any time. The first trial had him battle a fearsome and powerful daemon, accompanied by many smaller ones. But this one …

Gladio just knew something was very off by the time he reached the second shrine and acquired the fallen warriors' approval. There should have been a trial, and there had been none.

He left the cave and hurried to the next resting spot within the Tempering Grounds, where Cor caught up to him.

“Have you seen anyone?” Gladio asked him. They neither stopped nor rested, but kept walking, always under time pressure.

“You're asking about the Niffs? No, haven't seen anyone.”

For a while, they marched along a walkway on the inside of the canyon, until an inhuman shriek split the quiet.

Gladio's attention was immediately drawn to a large, black bird monster, fluttering in mid-air and spewing flames at something – or someone on the other side of the canyon. From this great distance, Gladio was just barely able to make out the dark-clad form of Ardyn running down a narrow path along the cliff face. The bird monster dived at him, tackling him into the rocks. A cloud of dark energy erupted, throwing the monster back, and with a red flash of royal magic, Ardyn warped after it. They fought in mid-air for a few seconds, until Ardyn – presumably – hit stasis and fell, but the flaming bird went after him without hesitation. The creature was so relentless in its pursuit, Gladio assumed it guarded the Tempering Grounds and should have been his enemy in the second trial.

He and Cor stopped to watch the fight, at least until monster and Chancellor disappeared into the depths of the canyon.

“The Chancellor?” Cor asked.

“That was him, alright,” Gladio confirmed and resumed walking. This was not the time to be standing around.

“I did not take him for a fighter,” Cor admitted. “Much less for someone with extraordinary abilities. But this explains the boldness with which he presented the peace treaty to Regis.” The marshal's footsteps sounded behind Gladio. “It appears you have more intel on the Chancellor than I.”

“I'd share it with you, but honestly? I have absolutely no idea where to even begin.” He hastened his steps.

“Gladio. Wait a moment,” Cor said and Gladio turned around. “I know we have competition, but you must keep your wits about you. Calm yourself.”

“I am calm,” Gladio claimed.

“On the surface, yes, but I can see you struggling underneath.”

Taking the marshal's suggestion to heart, Gladio stopped, breathed in deeply and tried to get his nerves back under control. Truth be told, he was nervous. Nervous and afraid. Not only to fail before Gilgamesh, but to fight Ardyn as well. The man was a ticking time bomb of daemonic energy and Noctis' ultimate enemy. Reluctant to play his part in the prophecy, yes, but also not quite right in the head and thus, still a great danger. Whatever shred of trust Gladio had placed in him thus far, he only had because Noctis trusted him, and Noctis was clearly under his influence. Ignis was not going to speak against the Chancellor as long as his good deeds outweighed his bad ones, and Prompto was as oblivious to everything as always. This road trip was going to end in a disaster, but it was his responsibility to make sure they all survived somehow.

Cor sought eye contact with him. “Feeling better yet?”

“I will when I have faced Gilgamesh.”

Whether he would prove his worth or lose his life – or escape severely wounded, like Cor once had – at least Gladio would be free of doubt.

To make it through the Tempering Grounds, it took more than strength. It also took resolve. The voices of past warriors, their souls forever bound to this place, teased Gladio, belittled him, called him unworthy and spoiled by the peaceful Insomnia he had grown up in. He kept pushing on, never waning. On this journey of trials, he realized that none of it mattered. Even if the voices were right, even if he was unworthy and spoiled and frightened, he was still willing to give his all to protect the prince, be it at the cost of his life, and, well, that had to be what being a King's shield was all about. His father had given his life defending Regis and Insomnia. Gladio had not been there to witness it, but he knew there was no way his father was still alive when Regis had fallen in battle.

By the time he reached the stone bridge littered with the swords of fallen men, Gladio was more determined to prove himself than ever before.

And Gilgamesh was waiting for him. Although the Blademaster might have been nothing more than a spirit animating a one-armed armour, he still made for an imposing figure. Not only did he tower over Gladio – who was already far taller than the average person – he was also wrapped into eerie, ghostly flames. Long, white hair stuck out from between Gilgamesh's hood and the metal mask he wore. An unnatural, purple light shone from the four eye holes of his grim-looking mask. According to Cor, the Blademaster saw straight into the hearts of men.

“I'm here,” Gladio announced his presence.

“Brandishing brute force?” Gilgamesh asked.

Gladio summoned his great sword. “Let's see if you can handle it.”

“This won't take long,” the Blademaster claimed.

The fight against Gilgamesh was like everything the Tempering Grounds had thrown at him condensed into one opponent. The Blademaster turned out to be not merely an expert swordsman, he also possessed the Power of Kings which the Founder King must have shared with him once. Just like Gladio, Gilgamesh, too, could summon weapons from the armiger of a Lucian king, but unlike Gladio, be had also mastered the art of warping and phasing about a battlefield. Thankfully, Gladio had sparred numerous times with Noctis in the past and knew how to defend himself against warp-strikes. Yet all throughout the fight, no matter how hard Gladio retaliated against his enemy's sword strikes, Gilgamesh commented on the fear within him, continuously foretelling his demise.

Gladio took those words and let them spur him on. He fell to the ground, once, twice, even using phoenix downs from Noct's armiger to help him back to his feet. So what if he was unworthy? That would not stop him from getting back up. Never.

The tip of Gilgamesh's sword grazed his forehead, drawing blood. Gladio barely noticed it, so much adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He just kept going and pushed through the Blademaster's next attack. As their swords clashed, Gilgamesh's blade shattered. Golden light gathered near the Blademaster's torn off sleeve. Gladio swung his greatsword to strike him down, but Gilgamesh stopped the edge with an outstretched hand. The hand of an arm that had been newly created from light. He discarded his broken sword and drew two others to wield in both hands. It made little difference to Gladio. Armed with his greatsword and a greatshield that he could switch to as needed, he continued to battle the Blademaster and wear him down.

In hindsight, the whole fight seemed to be but a blur of swords being swung, of hitting and getting hit, of ridicule and determination. It only ended when Gilgamesh sank to a knee, unable to dodge or block any follow-up hit.

Gladio took a moment to realise that this was it. The moment of defeat. The Blademaster had never accepted him as worthy, but he had defeated him nonetheless. With the adrenaline fading, Gladio became abruptly aware of the cut across his forehead. He sharply drew in a breath. A little deeper and he might be missing his scalp. This would be another scar to add to his collection. “Not the kind of souvenir I had in mind,” he said to himself, then turned to Gilgamesh, who was rising from the ground with effort.

“I may be unworthy, and I may be afraid,” Gladio stated. “Afraid of not living up to this job I'm supposed to do, but I'll keep protecting Noct the only way I know how. And I will kneel before no man! I'd rather go down for good.”

“Spoken like a true Shield,” Gilgamesh said, and although his mask betrayed no emotion, his voice sounded content.

Gladio had intended to leave, but stayed upon hearing those words.

“Fear and doubt beget death alone,” the Blademaster explained. “He who averts his gaze from his own faults cannot himself a true Shield call – but you, having made peace with your inner self – have proven you are worthy.”

So all his teasing had been but a part of the test as well. Gladio stepped closer, still too surprised to pride himself on his victory.

Gilgamesh offered him the impressively large katana he had used last in their battle. A pendant with the symbol of the Crownsguard was slung around its handle. Obviously, this was the weapon Cor had lost in his fight against Gilgamesh many years prior, and it must have been greatly appreciated by the Blademaster since. Gladio, while hesitant to take a gift of such value, accepted it with great honour.

“Now, hasten forth,” Gilgamesh said, “and return to the side of the last King of Lucis. For great darkness has befallen the Tempering Grounds and with my duty fulfilled, there is no more need for a place such as this.”

His words were vague, but Gladio was fairly certain he understood. He had gained what he had come here for and beaten Ardyn to it, and there was no point in waiting around just to see the Chancellor chasing after literal ghosts of the past.

“Thanks again,” Gladio said concerning Cor's old glaive and strode away, feeling satisfied with his accomplishment. Exhaustion should have weighed him down after a fight such as this, but perhaps it was due to this new strength he had gained that he barely felt exhausted at all.

He had just left the stone bridge when the cawing and shrieking of a large bird creature echoed through the canyon. The black feathered monster dropped out of the sky and crashed onto the bridge, breaking several of the littered, rusted swords underneath its lifeless and blackened body. It dissolved mere seconds later into purple fumes and black miasma, which were then drawn towards a figure behind Gilgamesh.

The darkness from the daemonified monster accumulated with more miasma floating down from above, and the Chancellor materialised from it.

“Well, well, well,” Ardyn said. “Looks like the past 2000 years have left their mark on you, too. I suppose immortality comes at a different price for each of us.”

Gilgamesh glanced to his missing arm. “I may be but a shell of my former self, but you are no more than the wicked echo of what was once a great and righteous man. I last saw him the day he left to travel Eos and placed Somnus in my care.”

“And a whole lot of good that did,” Arydn replied bitterly and brought out the sword with the blue tinged blade he had stolen from the Royal Tomb.

“I did not expect you to honour the memory of your brother, but to stoop so low as to add grave robbery to the list of your crimes …”

“Why, I had to take it.” Ardyn's gaze grew malicious. “To give you the hands-on experience of having the sword of the self-proclaimed Founder King stabbed through your heart.” Like a fencer preparing for battle, he casually raised the large sword with one hand and pointed its tip at Gilgamesh's chest.

“If this is a fight you are looking for, I will have to disappoint you,” the Blademaster calmly explained. “I have passed on my strength, and now there is nothing left that binds me to this world.”

“Don't you dare disappear before me!” Ardyn shouted, anger and hatred breaking through in the tone of his voice and his twisted facial expression. “You need to atone for your betrayal!”

The Chancellor charged at him, but Gilgamesh made no move to defend himself.

“Ardyn,” he said, sounding almost empathetic, “I hope your soul, too, will be able to rest one day.”

When Ardyn struck Gilgamesh's chest piece with the Blade of the Mystic, his entire armour fell to the ground clattering, as though hollow. The ghostly aura and purple light faded, and Gilgamesh was gone, just like that.

All around the canyon, more lights rose from the Tempering Grounds upwards and disappeared.

“No! Don't you deny me my revenge as well!” Ardyn screamed, desperate to vent his frustration.

Hastily, he cast the blade back into his armiger and reached down to Gilgamesh's chest plate with hands that were practically smoking, overflowing with the power of the Starscourge. When Ardyn shook the remains of the Blademaster as if to wake him, the terrible disease ate even through the metal armour and dissolved it until nothing was left but sparse miasma particles.

Ardyn dropped to his knees.

“Come back here at once!” he yelled and pounded the ground with a fist. “This is not over yet! If the gods ever grant me death, I will drag you back into the land of the living and I will make you suffer like I have! And tell that bastard brother of mine I have worse in store for him!”

Darkness was slowly seeping into the stones around him and spreading.

Oddly enough, while Gladio was very much aware of the danger he posed, he also felt pity for the man. Even if it was not revenge he sought, but merely justice, he would never find it. Everyone from his time was gone, history long since written. The ghosts of the past could only tease him with their presence.

Huffing in frustration, Ardyn dragged himself back onto this feet. It was just then, when he, too, turned to leave, that his sight fell on Noctis' Shield. “You!” He called and pointed at him. “You have been granted Gilgamesh's power!”

Gladio knew sticking around had been a mistake when Ardyn summoned his signature red blade.

“Fight me in his stead!”

“You can't just go around demanding people to fight you,” Gladio replied and stepped forward in case words alone did not stop him.

A wicked grin spread across Ardyn's face. “Oh, but I can!”

He sent his sword flying towards the king's Shield.

Gladio blocked the warp-strike just in time. Thank the Six he had watched Ardyn fight before or else he would have overwhelmed him easily with his many tricks and abilities. The Chancellor fought not like anyone else Gladio knew. As if his expertise with the Power of Kings and the darkness he wielded were not enough, his attacks also came under-handed and reckless. The all-out offensive of a man who had nothing to lose, could lose nothing, and most likely did not care whether he lived or died, anyway.

Although Ardyn kept him mostly on the defensive, Gladio held out much longer against him than he had initially thought.

Gladio noticed his opponent dissipate into particles and swung his great sword all around, catching Ardyn just as he reappeared to strike at Gladio's back. Yet no matter how often he knocked him down, Ardyn got back up seemingly unharmed. Whichever way you looked at it, Gladio was fighting a battle he could only lose. If he had some kind of sacred magic at his disposal, he might at least be able to wear Ardyn out.

More spectral blades had gathered around the Chancellor. Ardyn put some distance between himself and the king's Shield and sent a legion's worth of incorporeal swords at Gladio. Putting up his shield, Gladio blocked a large number of them before the blades eventually broke through his defence and knocked him back. He pulled a hi-potion from his personal space within Noct's armiger to help him keep going. After fighting Gilgamesh just minutes earlier, he had very few items left, yet Gladio had no intention of backing down.

As the fight wore on, Ardyn's tactics changed. His attacks came from angles that were easier to anticipate and he used less of his dark magic, effectively going easier on Gladio. Whether this change was intentional or caused by stasis, Gladio could not tell. Even so, it was only a matter of time until Gladio fell to a knee once more, panting. He reached into Noct's armiger, but his hand remained empty. No more potions left. No phoenix downs, either. Nothing.

With effort, he summoned his greatshield and braced himself for the next hit, expecting Ardyn to reappear any second and lunge at him again, but time crawled on and nothing happened. Surprised, Gladio dismissed the shield again.

The Chancellor stood before him with a potion in his hand instead of his sword.

“You're not going to finish me off?” he asked.

Ardyn looked much calmer compared to when they had started fighting. “I never said I was going to kill you.”

“But it was on your mind, wasn't it?” Gladio said, feeling smug. “Then you realised my death would not quell that lust for revenge, it would only complicate things with Noctis.”

Judging by his expression, Ardyn did not like him seeing through his facade.

“Perhaps it was on my mind, perhaps it was not,” he just said. “Now, do you want that potion or not?”

Gladio was in position to pass on that offer. When Ardyn dropped the item into his open palm, he broke it instantly to recover from his exhaustion.

“You know,” Gladio said as he stood back up, “If you need to blow off some steam, you can just ask me to spar with you.”

“I very much doubt you could have withstood my force without Gilgamesh's strength.”

“Good thing I undertook his trial, then.”

Gladio too, had realized something during this fight. First, and most importantly, even if he could not defeat Ardyn, he could last against him, which meant he would enable Noctis to break out the sacred weapons and pin him down if needed. And secondly, there was always a chance Ardyn came around even when his temper flared. Both of these discoveries greatly alleviated the danger Gladio had felt in presence of the so-called Adagium.

In silent agreement, they parted ways.

At least, when Gladio walked away and glanced back over his shoulder, he was not surprised to see Ardyn gone.

Chapter Text

It was, perhaps, coincidence, that Noctis and his friends met up with Gladio at the power plant in Lestallum. They had come to retrieve the finished replacement part from worker Holly, whereas Gladio had arrived looking for them. Although Noctis' Shield was reluctant to talk about where he had gone, the new scar across his forehead told them of at least one battle he had been through.
Independent of whoever or whatever he had fought, however, Noctis was glad to have him back in one piece. They chatted about their encounter with Aranea and the Empire's harvest of daemons all the way from the power plant to the food stalls besides the main road. Prompto kind-of admitted to having fallen for both Cindy and Aranea, causing Noctis to chuckle when they descended the staircase down to the car park.
Next to a red convertible, a familiar figure was waiting for them. Not too long ago, Noctis would have sighed and rolled his eyes at the sight of him, but this time he simply crossed another name off his mental list of missing party members. Funny, how things tend to change over time.

The Chancellor's face lit up as his eyes fell on the prince and his companions.
“Did you miss me, your Highness?” he asked, spreading his arms invitingly.

“As if,” Noctis joked. “You look like you've missed us, though.”

“Only the amusing conversations we've had. It gets boring without anyone to talk to.” He joined them on their leisure walk across the car park to where the Regalia stood. “I've gathered you've come to Lestallum to have the Mythril ore fashioned into the replacement part you need. Did you have a hard time finding it?”

“Not really, thanks to Aranea,” Noct replied.

“So she has served you well?”

“Yep.”

“Hate to break it to you,” Prompto chimed in. “But y'know, she really can't stand you.”

“Can't say I'm surprised.”

Gladio chuckled. “Is there anyone who can stand you?”

“I believe you know the answer to that question already,” Ardyn replied.

“It's that bad, huh?”

“One would think the Chancellor of Niflheim had better public relations,” Ignis thought out loud.

“Mind you, I get along great with the public! Niflheim politicians, on the other hand, are predators. It takes an unusually great amount of pretence and backstabbing to survive among the high and mighty. I understand that not everyone approves of such methods.”

“Oh, that explains so much!” Prompto exclaimed. “Like, all that teasing we had to endure.”

“That was no teasing. I was merely … nudging you into the right direction.”

“Some would call it manipulation,” Ignis criticised him, but Ardyn just shrugged.

“I cannot help it. After some thirty odd years, it has become a habit.”

Ignis unlocked the Regalia's doors and they all moved towards the seats they had taken at the start of their journey. As usual, Prompto was the first to get in and take the spot in the middle of the back seat.

“You think Aranea's really gonna quit the Niff army?” Noctis asked as he sat down next to his high school friend.

“Noct” Ignis reprimanded him. “This might have been sensible information.”

“Didn't sound sensible when she said it.”

“There is no need to get upset,” Ardyn said to both of them. “I've had my suspicion, anyway. The girl always possessed too much common sense to stay in this madhouse of an Empire indefinitely.” Instead of placing his Fedora on the dashboard, he simply let it disappear into his armiger.

“I know what you mean,” Prompto agreed. “For someone from the Empire, she was much nicer than I'd thought. Uh … No offence, Ardyn.”

“None taken.”

They set off back to Cape Caem, where Cid, Iris, Talcott, - and most importantly, Regis' yacht, - were waiting for them. It was a long ride from Lestallum to the coast, even without any unexpected stops. Yet time passed quickly, thanks to the lively conversations in the car. Ignis had bought a new ingredient at Lestallum to try and recreate the Tenebraen dessert from Noctis' childhood once more, which led Noctis to recount some other memorable highlights of his stay at Festala Manor, and Ardyn eventually explained how he had convinced Lady Lunafreya to conspire with him against the Draconian. Coincidentally, he revealed also some more of the Draconian's machinations.

It was about 6 pm and the sun had just begun to set when Ignis pulled over at the roadside nearest to the Cape Caem light house. A partially overgrown path led from there to the abandoned home of former light house keepers, where Iris stayed, as well as further up, to the light house on top of the cliff. Noctis had put about half of the way behind himself by the time he spotted two people tending to the newly rebuilt vegetable garden in between the buildings.

“Oh crap,” he uttered and stopped.

“What is it?” Prompto asked, stopping as well.

“I completely forgot about Dustin and Monica.”

Noctis could have slapped himself for not thinking of the Crownsguard members earlier. Even if Monica had not been aware who Ardyn was back at the Prairie Outpost, chances were Cor had told her by now, which meant someone had to explain to her and Dustin why the prince was travelling with one of Lucis' greatest enemies. Hoping for an easy way to skip the upcoming discussion, Noctis turned around to Ardyn, who had been trailing behind them.

“Hey, Ardyn. Can you throw up an illusion or something?”

“First of all, I don't do parlour tricks on request,” Ardyn replied lightly offended, with his gaze fixed onto the two Crownsguard members in the distance. “Secondly, I have nothing in my repertoire convincing enough to fool them for more than a couple of seconds. And last, but not least …”

Monica looked up and pointed into the direction of Noctis and his companions.

“… it is already too late for that.”

“Then you explain yourself to them,” Gladio suggested as he walked ahead.

Ardyn ran a hand along his chin. “I'm afraid I cannot do that. Or rather; I could, but I won't.”

Already, Monica and Dustin were purposefully walking towards them, and Noctis sighed, annoyed by Ardyn's antics once again.

“Consider this an opportunity to show off your diplomatic prowess.” The Chancellor leaned over to him and eyed him questioningly. “You are capable of thinking before talking, right?”

Noctis crossed his arms. “Pff. Sure.”

Well, he said that, and still glanced over to his advisor, who had always been so much better at carefully choosing his words than him. Yet Ardyn was quick to wave a hand in front of his face in order to regain his attention.

“Ignis is not going to help you. He possesses the skill, but his words hold no weight. As a future king, you cannot expect him to do the talking for you.”

“I will offer advice, however,” Ignis added, to which Noctis responded by nodding into Ardyn's direction.

“Take a number. I got more advice than I bargained for.”

In the meantime, Dustin and Monica had gotten close enough to them to send upset and confused looks the Chancellor's way.

“We'll be with Iris if you need us,” Gladio announced and took Prompto with him towards the light house keeper's home. Monica's expression spoke volumes of irritation when he walked past her.

“What is going on here?” she demanded to know and gestured towards the Chancellor. “Prince Noctis, do you not know who this man is?”

“Calm down, Monica,” he replied. “He is … helping.”

That answer was nowhere near enough to calm her. If anything, she looked more worried than before.

“Why would the Chancellor of Niflheim be helping you? We are … we're not being blackmailed, are we?”

“Please don't put any ideas into his head,” Ignis said in response to Ardyn's chuckle.

“The Niff Chancellor is with us, because …” Noctis rattled his brain for a moment. Damn, why did his motives have to be so complex? “Because he's a Lucis Caelum, that's why.”

Next to him, Ignis shook his head in disappointment.

Ardyn straight-up put his palm to his face. “What did they teach you at the Citadel? Did they teach you anything at all?” he demanded to know, exasperated. “This is the first argument you put forth and you choose to share the single most valuable information I gave you!?” Something about his gaze told Noctis he was holding back on slapping him in the face, and whether that was true or not, the notion in itself was scary.

“I was taught diplomacy,” Noctis defended himself. “It's just not easy to apply it all of a sudden, alright? Besides, you didn't mind me telling the others about your past.”

“Because I assumed you trusted them not to spread that knowledge nilly-willy.”

“Of course I trust them!”

Monica's and Dustin's expressions had shifted from angry and confused to completely perplexed at watching the two of them fight. “So, uhm …” Monica eventually started again, “You're a brother to King Regis, then? But how? We know of no relatives.”

“Chancellor Izunia was inaugurated before King Regis' ascension,” Dustin matter-of-factly informed the other Crownsguard member.

Ardyn took a step back and turned his attention away, apparently having written off the prince as a lost cause. At the very least, this meant that Noctis could keep talking about him and he would not care. “He dates back a little further than that. His name was removed from all records, and he himself was unjustly exiled. That's how he ended up with the Niffs, but he's going to help us reclaim Insomnia now.”

“Then I assume you have broken your ties with the Empire,” Dustin addressed Ardyn directly.

“Not yet, but I will, once we no longer benefit from my influence on the Niflheim government and military.” He briskly strode past the Crownsguard members. “Now, if you are quite done with your questioning …”

“As a matter of fact, I am not done yet,” Monica stated.

“It's okay, Monica,” Ignis said before she could run after Ardyn. “You do not need to trust him. Just trust Noctis in his decision to have accepted him as an ally.”

She begrudgingly gave in. “Of course.”

“Thanks, Iggy,” Noctis mumbled, glad that at least someone knew what to say.

“As for your practise …,” Ignis continued, “I believe you can still take some time improving your political prowess after we've arrived in Altissia. Let us go see Cid for now.”

Great. So Ignis was not happy with his choice of arguments, either. Seriously though, he should know better than anyone that Noctis had an easier time expressing himself with actions than with words. He never had the chance to improve much, either. Out of all the meetings and negotiations his father had been to, Noctis had attended only a few, and even then, Regis had always been at the centre of everyone's attention. On top of that, Noctis had no aspirations at all to ever sweet-talk people into doing his bidding like Ardyn did.

He huffed, trying to vent his frustration, and just agreed with Ignis. “You're right. Let's go.”

The old mechanic was just stepping out of the lift when they arrived at the entrance to the light house. Luckily, the replacement part they had brought with them met his quality standards. Even so, installing the part and putting everything back together would take a while. According to Cid's estimation, it was going to be late evening by the time he was finished. He suggested they stayed the night at the light keeper's house and set off in the early morning. Noctis did not mind, as long as he was in good company and there was a soft bed waiting for him.

Truth be told, Noctis had probably never sat at a table with so many people than he did at that evening, which was funny in a way, considering that the dining table back at the Citadel was even larger. With the help of Monica and Dustin, Ignis whipped up half a feast for everyone, and Ardyn proved that he could very well entertain others with pleasant small talk if he only wanted to.

Once dinner was finished, everyone except Monica and Dustin moved upstairs to play darts. With so many people, however, the game was going slowly. Prompto eventually took a break and sat down at the couch table with a piece of paper and a pen in his hands.

“Gimme a sec, I just thought of something that'll make this game tons more fun!”

Doodling was not one of Prompto's hobbies, which made Noctis all the more curious just what he was trying to put together. He joined his friend at the couch table. Prompto's untalented scribbling slowly formed what appeared to be a winged lizard with swords surrounding it.

Noctis chuckled. “Is that supposed to be Bahamut?”

The mentioning of the Astral caused Ardyn to lean forward on the couch and take a peek at the drawing.

“A poor rendition,” he said. “Didn't you know that his wings consist of nothing but blades?”

The young Talcott, who sat on the floor next to Prompto, looked up at him in awe.

“You've actually seen the Draconian?”

“More times than anyone should have, I suppose.”

“I'm sure Val could have drawn a really cool sketch of him,” Noctis said, suddenly reminded of his other high school friend and Crownsguard member Valyria Iridius. She had only just received the honorary title of “Sword of the King” before he had set off to Altissia for the arranged wedding, and he had not heard of her since. The thought of her came with a twinge of sadness that Prompto apparently felt, too.

“You think she's alright?” Prompto asked without the usually cheerful tone to his voice.

“I don't know. I tried to call her not long after Insomnia's fall, but I think her phone's dead. You know her, though; She can manage on her own.”

That seemed to lift his friend's spirits again. “Yeah right.”

“You could ask Monica or Dustin about her,” Ignis suggested and sat back down after another perfect score on the dart board. His precision was off the charts. If he did not back out of the game or someone took his glasses – all of them – he would be the sole winner by the end of the evening.

“Someone from the Crownsguard is bound to have heard from her,” he added.

“You're up next, Noct,” Gladio reminded him, but Noctis waved it off.

“I'll pass.”

With a sigh, he left the room and moved downstairs, where Monica and Dustin were washing the dishes. At the sound of his footsteps, Monica turned around and noted his presence. “Your Highness?”

Noctis took out his phone. No new messages, no missed calls. He scrolled over his contacts to where Valyria's name was listed and hit the button to call her. As expected, it took mere seconds until a computer voice told him that “this number was unavailable”.

“I was just wondering,” he said to Monica, “if anyone from the Crownsguard knows what happened to Val?”

“To my knowledge, Miss Iridius had left the Crown City to check on the wedding preparations in terms of security,” Dustin explained. “That was a few days before your departure. Last we heard from our contact, she left Altissia because of Insomnia's fall.”

“I have not seen it with my own eyes, but Baelor and Yentreia Iridius died in the battle for Insomnia,” Monica added. “It only makes sense that she wished to return to Lucis to offer her support in place of her aunt and father.”

“'Suppose so,” Noctis agreed.

“I'm afraid we don't know where she is now, but a lot of the Crownsguard members are currently scattered all across Lucis, helping out whomever and wherever they can.”

“Right.” While it was not exactly the answer he had hoped for, Noctis was satisfied knowing she was probably out there, doing her job. Perhaps even looking for and helping Luna.

A crash came from the room upstairs.

“No weapons in the house!” Ignis yelled harshly.

Alarmed, Noctis hurried back up the stairs.

During his absence, Prompto had pinned his sketch of Bahamut to the dart board. A red glowing spectral blade was stuck in it dead-centre and Ardyn stood there, still with his arm outstretched and a content smile on his face.

“Keep calm, specs,” Gladio said from his spot on the couch. “I don't think any damage was done.”

“Of course not.” By dismissing the weapon, Ardyn proved that the dart board and wall were undamaged. “The soul of a blade hurts without cutting. And don't we all wish Bahamut felt that?”

“We still agreed not to draw any weapons in the house,” Ignis insisted. “Besides, using anything but a dart for throwing is cheating.”

“Disqualify me from the game, if you like,” Ardyn said and turned to the others with a theatrical sweeping gesture. “but know that you cannot take from me the satisfaction of having struck Bahamut in the face, even if only by proxy.”

The way he spoke caused Noctis to laugh.

“Hey, someone pass me a dart. Let's punch some holes into that dragon for all his stupid rules!”

Chapter Text

Imagine Iris' surprise when she read about the fishermen's fest at Galdin Quay and realized Noctis was not going to make it there. In the early morning of this Sunday, he and his retinue had left to help out some hunters and farmers all the way up North, at Meldacio's Hunter HQ near the Vesperpool. Had he known of the fest, they probably would have taken a detour over Galdin Quay, but as things were, even if they turned back, they would arrive at the late evening, when everything was over already.

I could ask Cindy to drive me over and get you a souvenir, if you like. Iris had texted Noct.

> Would be great, thx.

Anything specific I should look for?

> Nah. Cant really name anything without knowing what they offer.

I'll just look for something cool then.

He had sent a thumbs up emoji in response.

So far, so good. Until Iris found out that Cindy had taken the truck and driven back to Hammerhead already. This meant that there was only one car left to get around with, and it belonged to neither Dustin, Monica or Cid.

Following the sounds of metal banging on metal, she climbed the stairs leading up to the Cape Caem lighthouse. For once, Cid was actually working on Regis' old boat instead of delaying Noct's departure by asking for more time or more parts. Iris did not mind, of course. The longer Noctis stayed in Lucis, the more time she got to spend with him.

In a camping chair in the shade of a tree, Iris found the car owner she had been looking for.

She approached him carefully. “Hey, uhm … Ardyn, was it?”

He lifted the fedora from his eyes. “Lady Amicita. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

For a moment, she struggled to find the words. Both Dustin and Monica had made it pretty clear she should not talk to him, and even Cid had advised her against it, calling him a bloody cheater and liar, like any politician. Yet Ardyn appeared to be as friendly and polite as he had when he had introduced himself back at Lestallum, which made her wonder all the more what their issue with him was, apart from him supposedly being the Niff Chancellor.

“I was just wondering … that red car that's parked besides the road is yours, right?”

Ardyn sat up straight in the chair, but Iris could tell by the look in his eyes he was still fairly tired.

“That humble beauty would be mine,” he replied. “Pray tell, why do you ask?”

“Thing is, I could need a lift and it seems Iggy and the others won't be back before tomorrow.”

“You're asking me to be your chauffeur?” He chuckled, seemingly amused by the mere notion. “Are you not worried that the Chancellor of Niflheim might kidnap you?”

“Well, are you really the Niff Chancellor?”

“As I live and breathe.”

“But you're helping Noct?”

He smirked at her. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

The question might have been pointless to begin with. She had seem him accompany Noctis, and she doubted Noct, or Iggy or Gladio for that matter, would let Ardyn travel with them if he was not trustworthy to some degree. Then again, this was Noctis she thought of, and everyone else was there to constantly watch out for him. But would Gladdy allow his little sister to hitch a ride with the enemy all by herself? She would be in for a very stern talking-to, that much was certain.

Iris sighed. “Gladdy's probably gonna kill me for this, but if Noct thinks you're okay, I'm not worried. Listen, I just need someone to drive me over to Galdin Quay and back. It'll take but five minutes. I just want to gab a present for Noct and be off.”

At the mention of Gladio's disapproval, he had looked more lively already.
“A present for our beloved prince, you say? This, I have to see.” With vigour Ardyn swung himself out of the chair. “Alright, I'll be your cab driver for a little while. Charge-free, even.” Bowing gallantly, he pointed her in the direction of the road. “This way, my Lady.”

“Just call me Iris, please.”

Together they walked down the hill to the flamboyant red convertible. Ardyn unlocked the doors, threw his hat onto the dashboard and dropped into the driver seat, while Iris took the spot next to him. Once he had ignited the engine, the car radio started playing classical music. It was some famous Altissian piece, if Iris was not completely mistaken. Not her kind of music, but tolerable.
The drive to Galdin Quay took about 10 to 15 minutes at best, but that did not keep Ardyn from starting a conversation.

“If I may, Iris, how would you describe your relationship to your brother?”

“Pretty good, I think. Gladdy and I get along well.”

Ardyn shot her a sideways glance before focusing back on the road. “So, would you say that your older brother has done a good job raising you?”

“He didn't have much time to look after me, actually,” Iris replied, although she had no idea what he was getting at. “Noct has always been his priority, ever since he became his Shield. I understand that's a lot of responsibility.”

“The two of you are quite a bit apart in terms of years. Have you never felt ostracised, standing in Gladio's shadow? Never longed for more?”

His questions made Iris wonder whether he was testing her or something.

“No, not really. Gladio's doing things I could never do. Or want to do. I mean, I don't even know yet what I want out of life. I'm still in high school, you know. Well, I was in high school …” Thoughts of the not so distant past flooded her mind. Of her high school friends, the normal life, as it had been, before the Empire's invasion. Iris swallowed hard. Part of her already knew she would not be getting her old life back, not with Insomnia in ruins and her father and Jared dead, but that did not keep the other part, the grieving part of her, from missing all she had lost. It was easier to keep her emotions in check when a stranger was around. She was strong enough not to let her pain show.

“Why do you ask?”, she said to Ardyn. “Do you think I should be more like Gladio? With proper training, I could take on some monsters, too.”

He chuckled in a way that made her skin crawl. “This is really too easy,” he mumbled before his voice regained a pleasant and joyful tone. “No, my dear. I don't think the world needs more hunters and fighters. There are plenty of more interesting professions to choose from. I'm certain a bright young lady such as you will find something suitable.”

“Like what?”

“This depends entirely on what suits your fancy.”

She thought on his words for a while. “I'm pretty good with needle and thread. I could be a seamstress, I guess.”

“Like I said; this is entirely up to you.”

By the time he pulled into the Galdin Quay parking lot, Iris had already spotted the stands lined up along the beach and in front of the pier. There were a lot of people moving about, clearly more than the usual tourists, restaurant visitors and hotel guests.

“Just five minutes,” she repeated herself and got out of the car.

“I am not going anywhere.” Ardyn leisurely leaned back in his seat as if trying to get some more rest.

Within a couple of seconds, Iris had gathered an overview of the festival. There were vendors selling fishing equipment, such as nets, spools, rods and lures, but also food stalls and the obligatory stands offering phone cases and souvenirs found at every market of considerable size. In a quiet corner, she discovered a couple of kids selling old toys off a picnic blanket. A rugged looking moogle plush caught her eye as she walked by. It was practically begging to be mended. For a moment, Iris considered buying the plush before reminding herself that she had come to the fest for a different reason.

Naturally, Iris knew close to nothing about fishing, but the colourful lures painted in the likenesses of monsters and daemons easily fit her idea of a cool-looking gift for Noctis. She took a few minutes to browse the impressive selection. One lure was more colourful and detailed than the next. Feeling that she was running out of time, Iris picked the one she liked best, paid for it and hurriedly returned to Ardyn's convertible.

When she walked up to the car, Ardyn appeared to be dozing, yet looked up the moment she reached for the car door's handle. His eyes quickly found the bright yellow lure in her hands.

She presented it to him, beaming proudly at her choice.

“What, is that all?” Ardyn asked, looking unimpressed. Perhaps he failed to recognise what it was designed after.

“It's a chocobo lure,” Iris explained. “Isn't it cute?”

“It's a bit disappointing, is what I say. I believe our dear prince Noctis owns such a lure already.”

Like the night stealing away daylight, Iris felt her enthusiasm being drained.

“Way to ruin a gift. How would you know what lures he owns?”

“I had a glance at his equipment last time I saw him fishing.” Ardyn opened the driver's door and got out. “Anyway, I cannot let you return with this. Let us look for something that will truly impress the prince, shall we?”

“Uhm, alright …” Gift-shopping with the Niff Chancellor had not been on Iris' to do list for this day, but she doubted she could talk him out of it now. He had made it clear she should not return before they had found something that met his approval. At least this meant that time was no longer an issue.

Iris browsed the wares again with greater attention. The result remained the same. She still had no clue what to get for Noctis, and not knowing what he already owned was not making it easier, either. Of course, she could have sent him pictures and asked, but firstly, Gladio did not like it when she interrupted them during work, and secondly, doing so would take away the surprise for Noctis.
After a while, she returned to Ardyn. Thanks to him being as tall as her brother and about three times as fancily dressed, locating him in a crowd of people proved to be no challenge. She found him in front of a stand offering angler's clothing just as he was trying on a beige-coloured fisherman's hat.

Ardyn flashed her a smile. “What do you say?”

“I don't think Noct would wear something like that,” she replied.

“This is not for him. It's for my own hat collection.”

“In that case, I'd still say the fedora looks better on you.”

“Of course it does,” he replied smugly and gestured to his coat. “It's called an ensemble for a reason.”

His gaze shifted from her to some kind of advertisement on the board where the locals usually pinned the most urgent hunts. “Now, what have we got there?” he said, putting the hat back and heading for the poster.

On their way over, Iris saw numerous anglers occupying the pier between the beach and the restaurant. Why, became obvious the moment she laid eyes on the poster. It promoted a fishing competition in conjunction with the fest. Noctis was going to be so mad to have missed out on this as well. First prize was a supposedly magical lure styled after the sea goddess Leviathan.

“This is more like it,” Ardyn said, sounding more than pleased with his discovery. “Have you ever heard of the saying: Fortune favours the bold?”

Iris took a second to figure out what he was talking about. “Are you suggesting we should enter the competition?”

Ardyn turned to her with a gasp. “Oh no, not we! You. Imagine the look on Noctis' face if you hand him that lure.”

She took a step back, raising her hands in defence. “No-uh. No way. The competition's already underway, and even if I could enter still, I've got no equipment and no idea how to fish.”

He chuckled. “You have never travelled with the Chancellor of Niflheim before. I can solve two of those problems with ease. All you need to do is muster up the will to try your hand at fishing.” The tone of his voice suddenly shifted. “Unless, of course, you preferred to return to Cape Caem with that petty little gift. His Royal Highness might appreciate the thought behind it, I suppose.”

Was he intentionally insulting her? Because Iris felt insulted.
“There's gotta be a catch to this, right?” she asked, wary of all his implications.

Ardyn put a hand to his heart. “Please, Lady Iris. Do not offend me. Being on good terms with the prince and his friends is my top priority. Besides, it should be a fun way to pass the time until they return.”

Before she could come up with any counter-argument, he handed her the keys to his car.

“Here. There might be an old fishing rod lying around in the trunk. Be a dear and go fetch it while I take care of your registration.”

As he walked off, Iris sighed heavily, not knowing what she had gotten herself into. It was just fishing, right? Noctis' favourite pastime. Nothing to it. She could try it out, and, well, although it appeared to be very unlikely she might win that competition, at least she could share her experience with Noct.

Iris ran back to the parking lot and opened the trunk of Ardyn's car. To her surprise, there was nothing in it. No fishing rod, and nothing else, either. Not even the Regalia's trunk looked this unused when cleaned out. Slightly puzzled, Iris returned to the festival.

Ardyn found her shortly after. He held a piece of paper with her registration in one hand and a fairly new fishing rod in the other. The model reminded her of one she had seen Noctis use.

“There was nothing in the trunk of your car,” she told him.

“Is that so?” He put on a thoughtful look that did not quite convince her. “Never mind, then. Here, why don't you take this tackle instead? It already has a spool and everything.”

“Okay, thanks.” Iris traded his car's keys for the fishing rod. She assumed he got the equipment as part of the registration. Or perhaps he had not, but in that case she was probably better off not knowing. Something about this made her feel uncomfortable, as if she was involved in some kind of illegal activity. Except she did not see how, or why, for that matter. Slowly, but surely, Iris was starting to understand why everyone had warned her of him.

Ardyn let his gaze wander along the pier and beach. “Now, where to cast a line …”

“Looks pretty crowded already,” Iris said.

“Let's look for a spot further down the coast,” he suggested and pointed at the shoreline beyond Galdin Quay. “Simple logic tells me where there are less fishermen, there will be more fish.”

“Makes sense, I guess.”

They had to move quite a bit away from Galdin Quay to find a spot where the shadows of fishes showed beneath the waves. In fact, they had wandered so far that Iris was starting to worry whether they might become easy targets for sea monsters. Ardyn was quick to alleviate her fears, saying he could handle a monster or two just fine. How, was another question entirely, because he did not look like a fighter to Iris.

He had brought a camping chair and a cooler from the fest with them, although Iris doubted she was going to catch something worth keeping. Oddly enough, the camping chair looked much like the one he had sat in at Cape Caem, but she did not remember him carrying it to his car. By the time Iris had set up everything, Ardyn seemingly prepared for another nap. He had been looking tired all day, so she decided not to question the origin of the chair and let him rest.

Just a few hours were left until the competition was officially over.

Hoping for good luck, Iris attached the chocobo lure to the line and cast it out over the sea. It took her a few tries until she got it close enough to the fish, and several more tries to figure out how to actually lure the fish in. The first time she got a bite, it happened so unexpectedly she forgot to pull the rod back and landed face first in the sand. When she patted off her clothes afterwards, the idea of buying a pair of those ridiculously looking rubber pants she had seen earlier suddenly seemed reasonable.

Yet much like her older brother, Iris had never been one to give up easily. She learnt from her mistake and kept trying. Perhaps an hour or more had passed by the time she pulled her first fish ashore. A really small catch, but a catch nonetheless.

“Ha! I got one! See that, Ardyn?” Laughing, she turned back to find the Chancellor with his head askew on the backrest of the chair, his legs crossed and eyes shut.

Iris approached him with the little bluegill in hand. This type of fish was so common even she had recognised it.

“Ardyn?”

No response. If it was not for his chest rising and falling she might have thought him dead. Iris had only seen Noctis sleep this soundly before. To make up for her disappointment of not being able to show him her very first catch, she quickly snapped a selfie with the fish and sleeping Ardyn in the background before releasing the bluegill back into the wilds. It was much too small to win the competition with anyway.

Over the course of the time that passed, Iris slowly got the hang of fishing, even managing to renew the spool once. Although she had lost a couple of fish, she had been lucky enough not to lose the chocobo lure thus far and the few fish she caught actually got bigger.

Half an hour before the end of the competition, Iris finally got a bite from something with a considerable pull. The fish appeared to be rather large, too, judging by its shadow. With what little experience she had gained, Iris battled the beast. It threatened to pull her off her feet more than once, but she stood her ground and let it wear itself out. After several minutes, Iris eventually managed to reel it in far enough to see the fish emerge from the water. It was indeed quite large, at least by her standards. Iris was so overjoyed, she could hardly believe her luck.

She was just about to collect her catch from the waterline when she noticed the other, much, much larger shadow in the water rapidly coming closer.

Out of the waves erupted a scaly long snout full of frightening teeth followed by a large head fin. The sea devil swept the fish up into its maw and swallowed it whole, not caring that it was still attached to a line. It turned its attention towards Iris in a heartbeat.

Iris dropped the fishing rod and ran back to where the Chancellor was still resting.

“Ardyn, wake up!”, she cried in alarm. “There's a sea devil!”

He did not stir. “You gotta wake up!” She grabbed him by his scarf and desperately tried to shake him awake, but no avail.

The sea devil was heading towards him. It must have realised he was the easier prey.

Iris retreated a little further, quickly picked up a couple of stones and threw them at the creature. Apart from hissing at her in mild annoyance, the sea devil remained unimpressed. If only she had something to distract the monster with!

“Ardyn!”, she called out again. Again, no reaction. Iris franctically looked for a larger stone to throw, but the sea devil had already reached him.

It bit into his leg and pulled him off the chair. Even then, Ardyn did not wake.

Iris shrieked in horror as she watched the beast drag him with it towards the water. Mustering up all her courage, she ran up to the monster to try and grab Ardyn's sleeve. The sea devil momentarily let go of him to snap at her. A gooey black liquid dripped from its teeth.

At about that time, Ardyn's eyes finally snapped open. He pushed his upper body up from the sand and gasped, when, a single moment later, the monster bit down on his leg again and resumed to drag him through the sand and towards the sea.

“Ardyn,” Iris brought out in a breath.

“I'm already aware thank you very much,” he replied, sounding annoyed, and kicked the sea devil's snout with his free foot hard enough for it to open its jaws. In a single motion, Ardyn rolled over and rose back to his feet. For someone who nearly had his leg bitten off, he was moving with surprising ease.
The sea devil went in for another bite when Ardyn raised a hand over his head and a red-tinged long sword appeared out of thin air. He brought down the full length of the blade on the creature's skull with lethal force. It dropped limp instantly.

Iris carefully stepped up to him and the dead monster. “Are you alright?”

Apart from a black stain on the lower leg of his trousers, he appeared to be entirely unharmed. Ardyn dismissed the sword into what had to be an armiger and shook the sand off his coat and out of his hair.

“I must apologize for you having to see this. It is quite unlike me to get caught off-guard.”

“Did Noctis … share his armiger with you?” It would explain much, Iris figured. Like what Talcott had told her, about Ardyn tossing a magical red blade at the dart board the other evening.

“For simplicity's sake, let us say he did,” Ardyn replied with a sigh. He picked up the fishing rod and reeled the line in until it got stuck somewhere inside the dead sea devil's body. “I must say, that is a pretty big fish you caught.”

“Not really a fish, though,” Iris said. “More of a reptile.”

A horn sounded in the distance, signalling the end of the competition.

“Mere details,” Ardyn claimed and bent down to hold out a hand over the sea devil's snout. The entire creature glowed red with magic. “Come now, I know you fit.” A few seconds passed before the creature, along with the line and fishing rod, disappeared in a burst of tiny, immaterial crystals.

Iris stared at the empty space with disbelief. “Did you just shove the entire sea devil into the armiger?”

“You do not expect me to carry this beast all the way back to civilisation, do you?” he asked in return and cast a sideways glance at her.

In a similar fashion, but much quicker, he collected the chair and the coolor before they made their way back to Galdin Quay. Underneath of the pier leading over to the restaurant, where people were unlikely to see him use Lucian magic, Ardyn re-summoned the dead sea devil. Iris already had a bad feeling when she brought the jury over.

They were clearly impressed with her feat, yet the rules unmistakeably stated that only freshly caught fish counted as entries to the competition. Aquatic monsters not included. So much for winning that lure and impressing Noctis. Even the chocobo lure had been lost deep within the sea devil's belly.

By the time she and Ardyn headed back to his car, he, too, was in a sore mood.

Just as she was about to get in, an idea struck Iris, and she left him waiting once more to go and use the last of her pocket money to buy the moogle plush she had seen at the kids' flea market. With the doll on her lap, she dropped back onto the passenger seat. She would mend it, and then turn it into a decoy that will hopefully save someone's life one day. Iris could not help but smile to herself, brimming with inspiration and the confidence to realise her vision.

Ardyn cast a glance over to her, but seemingly decided to start the engine instead of commenting on her purchase.

“What, you've got nothing to say?” she wondered aloud.

“At this point, I no longer care,” he replied. “To be perfectly honest, I would prefer if we could pretend none of this happened.”

The sight of his annoyed and weary expression made her chuckle. “I could do that, but it was quite the adventure.”

Not to mention she had at least one picture that proved it.

“Would it be possible, perchance, to change your mind with some ice cream?”

“What do you take me for, twelve?”

“It worked on Noctis rather well.”

Chapter Text

One might wonder why they went through the trouble of repairing Regis' old yacht, when the Imperial Chancellor could have just given the order to lift the blockade on the ferries from Accordo to Qualdin Quay. Of course, Ardyn never admitted anything, but Noctis had figured out all by himself that any further abuse of his political power bore the risk of exposing him as a traitor, given for how long he been travelling with the prince and his retinue already. At this point, he was practically part of the team. The annoying, infuriating part sometimes, but a part all the same.

After having spent the past evening in pleasant company, they set the figurative sail in the early morning, waving Iris and Talcott good-bye as the ship left the harbour underneath of Cape Caem's light house. Cid accompanied them on their trip to Altissia, simply because none of them had any experience steering a boat out on the open seas.

The ocean was calm that day, allowing a safe and swift journey. Noctis sat down on one of the benches at the rear of the boat, and it was not long before his thoughts turned towards the challenges that lay ahead of them.

“It's been a while since we've heard from Luna,” he thought out loud. “I really hope we'll be able to meet up with her in Altissia.”

“We will because we have to,” Ardyn responded vaguely. He was standing in the shade behind the windscreen and casually leaned against the side window. “All the pieces must be in place before we take on the Tidemother.”

“She's the goddess sleeping beneath Altissia, right?” Prompto asked once he had managed to tear his eyes away from the seeker of his camera. As soon as they had left the harbour, he had begun snapping pictures of the ocean and its glistening waves.

“Leviathan,” Ignis mused aloud. “The seafarers fear her temper.”

“Guess we got pretty lucky today, huh?”

“I dare say that building a city on top of her resting place was a grave mistake. The people of Altissia revere her as a guardian deity, but to Leviathan, men are no more than insignificant insects, to be crushed at her leisure. She will not enter into the covenant willingly, and brute force, I am afraid, is the only argument she listens to.”

“That's not all,” Cid added, his eyes never straying from the horizon. “You'll have to go through Camelia first to even try 'n' awaken the Hydrean.”

Prompto dropped down next to Noctis on the bench. “And who's Camelia?” he asked.

“Camelia Claustra is the first secretary and state leader of Accordo,” Ignis explained briefly, and Cid took it from there.

“You might wanna imagine she's got a word to say in this if there's even the slightest chance the Tidemother's gonna level Altissia in a fit of rage. Accordo's under Imperial control, but they've got a government and forces of their own. They're gonna keep the Oracle from doin' her thing at the Altar unless one of you can convince the first secretary to let her.”

“Oh, I get it,” Noctis said, crossed his arms and turned back to Ardyn, sighing. “There's going to be a negotiation and you wanted to know I got what it takes to secure terms. That's what the discussion with Monica and Dustin was about.”

Ardyn slowly clapped his hands. “Congratulations, your Majesty! You have finally figured it out.”

“Can it, Ardyn. You could've just told me, you know?”

“But where is the fun in that?”

In the meantime Ignis had wandered over to them. “We can't say for sure what Miss Claustra's terms will be. Do you feel well enough prepared to handle the negotiation?”

“Don't worry. I'll get it done,” Noctis replied, adding “Somehow” in his thoughts. It would be the first time he spoke as a state leader – even if Insomnia had fallen – to another state leader. Yet still, the notion of calling himself “King” of anything did not feel right. Could anyone ever be prepared for so much responsibility? Noctis liked to think even his father had struggled sometimes.

A man-made waterway, barely any wider than Regis' yacht, rose out of the sea before them. Its steady incline led towards the gate into the elevated harbour of Altissia, past a number of monumental statues. Cid steered their board masterfully along the narrow passage until the guard post waiting at the gate signalled for them to stop.

For a moment, Noctis tensed. At first glance, he could not tell whether this guard belonged to the forces of Accordo or Niflheim. If someone ran an identity check and they were found out by the Empire, they might just had to fight their way into Altissia.
Lucky for them, all the guard wanted to see was an entry permit for the boat, and Cid just so happened to have one at hand. His entry permit was 30 years old, but valid nonetheless. The old mechanic continued to drive them up to the pier, but stayed behind with the boat once the prince and his companions had hopped off.

Noctis passed through the area where people used to wait for the ferry to Galdin Quay to arrive up until the Imperial blockade had taken effect. Beyond of it, the first buildings of Altissia came into view. So did another checkpoint, unfortunately. The only way into the city led through. When Noctis neared the narrow passageway of the guard post, Ardyn pushed past him.

“State the purpose of your visit,” the city guard demanded of him.

“We'll be taking the alternate entry passage, thank you very much,” Ardyn said as though he had done it a thousand times before, pulled something out of his coat pocket and slid it over the counter. No small amount of money, Noctis surmised.

All of a sudden, the guard lost all interest in holding them up. “I wish you all a pleasant stay.”

Walking past the guard post, Ardyn turned to the others and opened his arms. “Allow me to welcome you to the Walls of Water, resting place of the Tidemother and home to the greatest collections of wine and art in all of Eos!”

“You've been everywhere, haven't you?” Ignis rather stated than asked.

The architecture they had seen on their arrival into the city had already been breathtaking, but the city itself was simply overwhelming. Historical buildings, each painted in a different colour, lined the streets to one side, to the other flowed the canal with its azure waters and beautifully crafted gondolas bopping up and down on the waves. Wherever Noctis looked, he discovered flowers and floral patterns, sculptures or reliefs. Street stands offered framed paintings, floral arrangements, ice cream and - yes, even the Cactuar statuettes Talcott collected.
Not even Insomnia had been this rich in art and culture. No wonder tourists from all over Eos flocked to Altissia.

“This city is so photogenic!” With his camera in hand and a beaming smile on his face, Prompto ran from the canal to the buildings and back. “Someone tell me where to point my camera, cuz I don't even know where to start!”

“How about you point it at us?” Noctis suggested confidently.

“Great idea!”

Gladio, Ignis and Noctis came together in front of the gondolas at the harbour and Prompto had the tripod set up in no time. “One group picture comin' right up!”

Noctis waved the Chancellor over to them. “Hey Ardyn, come and join us!”

He pointed at himself, perplexed. “Me?” Admittedly, this would be the first group picture with him in it.

“Can't have a group picture without our tour guide, can we?”

“Very well.”

They were still figuring out how to reposition themselves so that everyone was in the frame when voices coming from a group of tourists drifted over to them.
“Did you hear? They're extending the exhibit for Lady Lunafreya's wedding dress.”

“The Vivienne Westwood? But wasn't that a memorial for her passing?”

“Well, now it's a memorial for her safe return. They say the government took her in.”

“Was that an official statement? There's so many rumours these days. Like, that terrible disease people are talking about …”

#-#-#

For all its beauty, Altissia was rotten underneath. The Empire's influence had brought a creeping corruption into the city, causing officials to turn a blind eye to any crime as long as enough money was involved. A fertile grounds for businesses of the rich and heinous.
Many things these days were not what they seemed, and if they were not rotten on the outside, they were most certainly rotten within. The Empire, of course, was no exception. Ravus knew from recent reports that the Starscourge was spreading unchecked in Gralea, but Emperor Aldercapt withheld that information from the public at any cost, trying to maintain the appearance of an unyielding force at the cusp of world domination.

It was all about appearances in the end.

“Please remind me why I am here again,” Commander Caligo said to Ravus as the two of them walked up one of Altissia's many staircases, accompanied by a number of MT riflemen. His presence alone strained Ravus' nerves. This man was so vain, he actually had his Magitek Armour painted gold just before he came to Altissia. And not just in gold, but with actual gold.

Ravus was done with all the idiots of the Empire. If he did not need the military power Aldercapt still extended to him to slay the Astrals, he would have completely severed his ties the day the ring fell into his hands. “To upkeep the image of a united Empire to the public,” he eventually responded. “Certainly, you narrow-minded imbecile realized that when you were ordered to bring your forces here?”

The commander trailing behind him made a disgruntled noise. A dying noise would have been preferrable to Ravus.

As if by a supernatural force, his' gaze was drawn to a well-dressed and black-haired woman standing in a side alley. A woman that was usually seen accompanying the Oracle. Gentiana beckoned him to come closer.

In order to keep the commander's attention on himself, Ravus turned back to Caligo. “Go ahead and continue the preparations without me,” he ordered him. “My presence has just been requested elsewhere.”

Caligo looked around, confused by the sudden change of plans, but eventually left, taking the magitek infantry with him.

Once he was out of sight, Ravus dared to check on the side alley and was glad to find that Gentiana had waited for him instead of miraculously disappearing like she often did. No words passed between them while she led Ravus through the streets. He simply knew Lunafreya was summoning him, and he was more than willing to answer his sister's call. Crowds of tourists parted before him, seemingly frightened of him and the military power of the Empire he symbolized, but they were barely aware of the messenger.

To his surprise, Gentiana brought him into the government building. The guards did not stop him from entering, and not even the first secretary showed up. In front of one of the guest rooms, Gentiana stopped.
“She is already expecting you,” she said in that unwavering, calm tone of voice.

Upon opening the door, Ravus found a young woman sitting gracefully in an arm chair with her head bowed. She wore a black, long-sleeved bolero and a white scarf, as well as a pair of matching gloves and a wide-brimmed hat adorned with a stylized Sylleblossom. The hem of her white dress, however, was frayed and had clearly seen better days. It was only when she raised her gaze to meet his that Ravus recognised the soft features of his sister's face.

She looked worn. Worn and unusually pale. She tried to suppress an oncoming coughing fit, but failed.

“No.” In a heartbeat, Ravus stepped forward and sank to a knee before her. He reached for her face and she took his hand into hers, grateful for his concern.

“How could this be?” he asked, dismayed at the state she was in. “You are the Oracle, blessed by the gods.”

“This is my punishment,” she said. “For believing that mankind could find its own way out of the darkness.”

Her words shocked him even more than that horrible disease which had befallen her. Anger welled up inside him, and he withdrew his hand. “You have abandoned your calling,” he accused her.

Luna shook her head vehemently. “No! It is the Oracle's calling to aid the Chosen King. This is what I have been doing and will continue to do, for as long as I can.”

Abruptly, Ravus rose from the floor.
“That insolent boy is no longer worthy of the title.” he said with conviction. “He is weak and cowardly, just like his father before him. Have the gods not told you? The Draconian himself has chosen me to fulfil the prophecy in his stead.”

A mix of sympathy and determination shone from her eyes. “The Draconian is using you, Ravus. He is the one luring you in with false promises. Mankind will be thinned out by the time the Chosen King has acquired all he needs to dispel the darkness, and he, himself, must give up his life as well.”

“It takes a greater man to sacrifice his own life, and I am well prepared to face this fate – or any. The darkness will come, whether Noctis ascends the throne or not. Someone must seize the mantle of True King.”

“But his sacrifice will be pointless.”

“Then you would call the sacrifices of our forebears pointless as well?”

“They gave their lives in hope for a better future,” she argued. “We owe them to accomplish this goal, but by which means is ultimately left to us. A path has been laid out before me that will lead mankind not only to the light, but to freedom from the Bladekeeper's machinations as well.” She placed a hand on her chest, taking deep breaths. All this fighting did not mix well with her illness.

Ravus tried his best to adopt a calmer tone. “And who is to guarantee that such blasphemy will not doom us all?”

“There is no guarantee,” she replied. “We must have faith. Not in the gods, but in mankind.”

It took him a while to connect the dots. When Caligo had handed him a bunch of military reports in preparation for their upcoming cooperation regarding the slaying of Leviathan, one report had stood out among the rest. Minister Besithia himself had recently raided a research facility in Tenebrae in response to a number of rumours saying that Tenebrae had begun to develop a substance with the ability to dissolve plasmodium – the very same stuff Magitek cores were made with. Darkness in its most basic form. The wording Besithia had chosen presented his operation as a necessity to keep the enemy from developing Anti-Magitek weaponry, but given Tenebrae's expertise in the healing arts, it was unlikely they had been researching anything but a cure to the Starscourge. Something else that was unusual about the report was its lack of a list of confiscated items, indicating that either Besithia did not want anyone to know what he had taken or there had been nothing for him to take because evidence had been destroyed or moved in time. Whether Lunafreya had simply heard of it or even funded the research, progress on a potential cure had been halted.
There was no way that mankind could free itself from the plague before the Long Night descended. Not with this kind of opposition, and not with the bearer of the Starscourge still out there – whoever he was.

“It pains me to hear that you have been mislead, too,” Ravus concluded. “Nonetheless, even if you will not accept me as the new Chosen King, I will strive to relieve you of your burden in any way I can.”

All of a sudden, Luna stood up from the armchair and slapped him.

There was no time for him to react. Ravus knew her as strong-willed, but even he was stunned.

“Were you not listening!?”, she said harshly. “There is no need for you to shoulder this burden! Your sacrifice is unnecessary!”

Such strong emotions came not without a price, however. Writhing in pain, Luna sunk back onto the seat.

The sight left him speechless. Despite everything that separated them, watching her suffer tore his heart in two. She was still his sister and moreover, all that was left of his family. Throughout his life, he had never been gifted any special abilities like she had, but now that he possessed the power of light and the Draconian's blessing, was it too much to hope he could undo her punishment? Ravus lifted his hand with the blessed ring.

“O Lucian Kings of yore, I beg of you, grant me the power of light to purge this darkness from my sister.”

A glaring light, not unlike the holy spell, spread out from the ring. Channelling all his strength and his faith, Ravus pointed it at Luna. Already, the magic of the Lucii bit into his flesh again, demanding a blood price for what he was trying to do, but Ravus ignored the stinging and burning. The light grew ever brighter and wider until Luna's form vanished beyond a wall of white.

Alarmed barks broke Ravus' concentration, causing the light to suddenly fade away. Pryna had appeared besides the armchair and was threatening him with growls. She only calmed down when he finally lowered his hand. It was also just in that moment that he noticed black particles hanging in the air, and Luna, who was wincing and still trying to shield herself from the light.

Although he had managed to burn some of the scourge away it took mere moments for the particles to reattach themselves to her.
“What is this?” he asked, confused. Perhaps, if he only tried harder …

Before he could summon the light again, he felt Gentiana's hand on his arm. “The light of the Bladekeeper alone grants no mercy” the messenger explained. “It burns but never heals.”

“I am so sorry,” Luna said, avoiding his gaze. “But I need this. Just until the covenant with Leviathan has been forged. These trials have taken a lot out of me, and I am afraid the Starscourge is all that keeps me going.”

Ravus turned his head abruptly away, no longer able to hear her talking like this, so deeply corrupted by foreign thoughts. There was nothing he could do for her if she kept refusing his help.

“Why have you sent for me?”

“I know Bahamut has tasked you to kill Noctis, but I will not ask you to spare him,” she explained. “I ask of you to save the people of Altissia instead. With the ring of the Lucii, I believe you will be able to project a barrier around Leviathan and keep her destruction within. Enough people have lost their home and lives in this war already. I beg of you, not as the Oracle, but as your sister, to prevent this needless suffering.”

“Then you ask me to spare Noctis as well. I cannot uphold the barrier and fight at the same time.”

When Ravus sought eye contact again, her gaze bore into him. Those innocent eyes, such a humble request … She always thought of others first. In fulfilling her request, there was nothing for him to gain, but nothing to lose, either.

Most importantly, however, Ravus had never liked fighting with his sister. “I will think on it,” he promised.

There had been a time when Ravus had hoped his sister would join him once she knew of this new calling he had been given. That by taking on the title of True King, he could pay the blood price demanded by the gods in her stead as well, and enable her to life and love as she pleased.
Cleary, he had hoped for too much.

“We will meet again once Leviathan has been put to rest,” he said as he turned towards the door. “I will not allow you to succumb to the darkness that has befallen you.”

There had to be way to save her. Gentiana had said the light of the Bladekeeper alone was not enough, which implied that something else was needed. The blessing of another god, maybe? But which? Given Leviathan's temperament, the Tidemother appeared to be an ill fit to grant the power of healing.

Chapter Text

Maagho was not just a bar run by an old friend of King Regis, it was also the place to shop for some of the freshest, finest and most exclusive ingredients Ignis had ever seen.

While Noctis and the others sat at the counter, chatting with Weskham about Altissia and listening to the misadventures of the former king of Lucis, Ignis took the time to browse the wares offered by fishermen whose boats were docked all around the wooden deck. A hobby chef like him could but dream of such variety and quality. Although, given how often Ignis had to cook for the entire party, he should be considered at least part-time chef by now.

Keeping everyone fed and healthy was not exactly an easy task.

Noctis went to great lengths to pick his meal apart if there was as much as a trace of vegetables in it – especially so if green beans or the carrot that must not be named were involved – and was a fussy eater in general. Less so than he used to be, but still difficult enough to handle.
Gladio, while being neither fussy nor picky, preferred his meals simple. Too simple, oftentimes. If left to his own devices, Ignis was certain he would be living exclusively off Cup Noodles.
At first glance, Prompto seemed like the easiest to look after. He ate healthy as often as he could, obviously trying to keep his weight. The only trouble with him was that Ignis did not think he should be this scrawny.
Last, but not least, was Ardyn. He had only started to share meals with them after the incident with the Behemoth daemon, and, for someone with a personality as troublesome as his, he surprisingly never fussed or complained. He never praised Ignis' cooking, either, which had led him to wonder what kind of food the Chancellor preferred.
Ignis turned around to the bar, where Weskham and Ardyn were indulging themselves in an in-depth conversation about rare bottles of wine. Perhaps the Chancellor fancied a more exquisite taste, Ignis mused. With this selection of fine seafood before him, he could certainly try to whip up something out of the ordinary.

“What a most unusual occurrence. The King of Lucis and the Chancellor of Niflheim sitting at a bar. I'd say this is some kind of cheap joke, but I don't hear anyone laughing.”

From the gondola station nearby, two city guards and a middle aged woman wearing a turquoise suit approached the prince and his companions. Her demeanour and choice of clothing conveyed authority. She was unmistakeably the all-out business type, a proper diplomat.

Knowing that his assistance might be needed, Ignis returned to the others at Weskham's counter.

“How do you know us?” Noctis asked the woman. A legit question, since they would have never made it this far if his face and title were more commonly known.

“I have my sources,” she simply said, gesturing to herself. “Camelia Claustra, first secretary of Accordo.”

Ardyn raised his wine glass. “We've had the pleasure already.”

“Indeed. Our talks have rarely been pleasant, however.”

“If that is the case, allow me to offer my sincerest apologies for failing to entertain you.” He said it with the most insincere tone of voice anyone could muster, effectively insulting her without leaving much room to be accused of the insult. A clever tactic – for someone whose goal was to infuriate everyone around him. Ignis took a mental note to hit both him and his nephew over the head in case Noct ever adopted this specific manner of speaking of his.

The first secretary was, thankfully, not easily irritated, and Noctis seized the moment to cut directly to the chase.

“Is it true that you have the Oracle in your care?”

“The Oracle came to me looking for shelter and, thus far, I have provided her with everything she humbly asked for. What happens from here on out, depends on whether the two of you are willing to negotiate with me. I would prefer to have words with his Lucian Highness first and only, but seeing how Niflheim is involved, of course I will listen to the Empire's terms as well.”

Ardyn glanced over to Noctis as if silently nudging him to take the lead in this conversation.

“You'll find the Empire is a lot less involved in this than you think.” Noctis raised his chin and put a hand to his hip. “The Chancellor and I have come to an agreement of our own.” His show of confidence might be feigned, but it looked very convincing, and that was all which mattered.

His statement appeared to capture the interest of Accordo's state leader. “I suggest you meet me at my office tomorrow morning so we can discuss terms in detail.”

“I'll be there,” Noctis promised.

With that said and done, the first secretary gave a nod to Weskham and returned to the gondola along with her escort. Had Ignis not already suspected it, he would have realized by now that she had come to Maagho only to meet the prince.

As for Noctis, he had once again proven that he was very much able to express himself in the face of authority. If the situation truly demanded it, Ignis could count on him to live up to everyone's expectations. Sometimes, he even surpassed them. That was how it had always been with the prince.
The only reason Ignis still worried from time to time was that situations which truly mattered and those which did not were not always easy to discern, and if the situation did not matter, Noctis was also able to mess up big time, and then Ignis had to clean up after him. In a not so literal sense. Usually.

“That was one strict looking woman,” Prompto said once Accordo's state leader was out of hearing range.

“Wonder what she expects from us,” Gladio thought out loud.

“She'll have the safety of her people on her mind,” Weskham said. “That's the most important thing. If she's talked to the Oracle, she knows what the prince and Lady Lunafreya came here for.”

“Yeah, but I don't see how we can guarantee for the safety of her people,” Noctis replied, sounding a bit worried. “Of course I'll try to take down Leviathan as quickly as possible, but who knows what damage she'll do just upon her awakening? We could help with evacuating the people beforehand, but even then it's just the five of us.”

“Four. The four of you,” Ardyn corrected him, but quickly reconsidered. “Three, actually, since his Highness will be preoccupied arguing with the Tidemother as soon as she rises from her slumber.”

“I take it you are planning to be elsewhere?” Ignis asked.

“You will find me where I will be most useful to our cause.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Couldn't we get, like, more people from the Crownsguard to help us?” Prompto suggested.

“You seriously think the Marshal's gonna sent all of Lucis' remaining forces to Altissia?” Gladio objected. “A major city under Niff control?”

“I didn't say all of them. Just some, perhaps? We made it here fine, right?” His gaze drifted from Gladio to Noctis to Ardyn.

“Don't look at me as if I were made of gil,” the Chancellor said and casually finished his glass of wine. “The alternate entry passage for you lot already cost me a fortune, and I have my limits too, you know.”

Groaning, Noctis got up from his bar chair. “Let's crash for today. All this worrying is giving me a headache.”

Ardyn turned to him as he moved away from the counter. “Already? The evening has only just begun.”

“So what? There's no better preparation than a good night's sleep. Just watch me wing it tomorrow.”

They said their good-byes to Weskham and took the gondola back to the port. The Leville's subsidiary in Altissia offered one of the most affordable accommodations around the city, but was still more pricey than its counterpart in Lestallum. Despite of his earlier display of confidence, Noctis was by no means averse to Ignis' help regarding the upcoming meeting, and so Ignis spent the evening taking notes and drawing up potential arguments for Noct to consider. With a can of Ebony to help him through the late hours, Ignis moved down into the foyer after everyone else had already gone to bed.

Everyone but one.

The rustle of a heavy coat caused him to look up from his notebook. Ardyn strode purposefully through the foyer towards the door. Whatever was on the man's mind, he appeared to be too lost in thought to notice the prince's advisor sitting at the corner table. It was not the first time Ignis watched him slink off to mind his own business, and although Ardyn had proven he acted in Noctis' best interest, even behind their backs, his disappearances were still alarming.

Whether it was the curiosity that got the better of him or the mistrust the Chancellor still inspired, Ignis put his notebook aside and seized the chance to follow Ardyn out of the door.

Shadowing him took considerable effort and skill, because if Ignis and Ardyn had anything in common, it was their keen sense of observation. Thankfully, there were still crowds of tourists out on Altissia's streets Ignis could blend into and the many windings alleys provided ample opportunities to break the line of sight. Now, if only Ardyn would stop looking at every other shop sign or window …

Any passer-by most likely thought he was aimlessly wandering the streets. Even Ignis doubted for a moment or two whether he had a clear destination in mind, but then again, this was Ardyn. He never did anything without a reason.
In front of Vivienne Westwood's the Chancellor stopped once again, this time to thoughtfully take in the details of Lady Lunafreya's wedding dress.

Ignis' heart skipped a beat as he struggled to hide behind a building's corner in time. “ Enough with the window shopping already!” he thought to himself.

The more his nervousness grew, the quicker his patience was running out. Thank the Six Ignis was a very patient man by nature. Nevertheless, the most unpleasant thought that Ardyn had already noticed his presence crept upon him. For all he knew, the Chancellor might have been playing games with him for the past half an hour.

Finally, Ardyn moved into the government building further down the street. A couple of seconds later, Ignis approached the guards at the entrance himself. They let him in without many question asked. His Insomnian ID proved his affiliation with Lucian royalty.

Once he had made it into the government building, Ignis waited until his target was long gone from his sight, then let the sound of Ardyn's footsteps guide him through the mostly empty halls and corridors all the way to the first secretary's office. He just rounded the corner when Ardyn gave the office door a push and waltzed into the room like he owned the place.

“Please tell me whatever this is about could not wait until tomorrow morning,” Ignis heard Miss Claustra from deep within the office say.

“Perhaps it could have waited, but who is to blame a man for making use of his privileges? Ironically, the reason for my coming includes the relinquishment of said privileges.”

Someone on the inside of the room closed the door, causing the voices of Ardyn and Miss Claustra to become muffled to the point where Ignis had to sneak up close to the entrance to keep listening in. He positioned himself with his back to the wall, trying to look like he was casually waiting for someone. Yet no matter how much he strained his ears, he understood no more than single words. Ardyn spoke of a document more than once, of Niflheim and the Emperor, and he mentioned Tenebrae somewhere in between as well. Certainly, these fragments left a lot of room for speculations, but Ignis knew better than to speculate regarding delicate political matters. At least not until he had gathered all available information.

Many minutes later, the door opened again. “I wish you the best of luck with your endeavour,” Ardyn said to the secretary as he walked out of the room, seemingly unaware of Ignis still leaning against the wall a little further down the corridor.

By clearing his throat, Ignis made his presence known, and the Chancellor whirled around, startled.

“Oh, it is you!” A smile spread on Ardyn's face as his gaze settled on the prince's advisor and he lazily clapped his hands. “Well done, I must say! I never even caught as much as a glimpse of you.”

“Do you want me to think I've done an especially good job following you, or was it your fault for not paying attention?”

“Both statements can be true, to a varying degree.” Ardyn shrugged and eventually closed the office door behind him.

“You have sweetened the deal, am I right?”
“My, my, there's no fooling you, is there?”

“What did you discuss with her exactly?” Ignis demanded to know.

“I will tell you,” Ardyn raised a finger. “but on one condition: May I ask that you keep this matter between you and I? You see, I wouldn't want my dearest nephew to think he might be unable to negotiate terms without my assistance.”

“I believe Noct will fare much better than you expect. You should place a little more faith in him.”

“That would be assuming I had any faith left to give.” The Chancellor chuckled to himself. “Now then, do we have an agreement?”

“I will keep quiet if and for as long I deem it unharmful to withhold the information.”

“Hm. That's only fair, I suppose.”
Ardyn did not sound pleased, but that was exactly what Ignis had aimed for. A compromise.

#-#-#

The next morning eventually arrived, as that is what mornings do, no matter how prepared or unprepared the prince was. Except this were not his finals, but an actual negotiation with a state leader, as Noctis reminded himself when he tried to fix his hair in the mirror of the hotel's bathroom. Yet there was no need to worry. He was well-armed with confidence and a brief run-down of Iggy's notes.

On that day he strode with his head held high into the office of the first secretary. Everything he had ever learned about diplomacy came back to him in time. Although there were brief moments in which he struggled to find the right words, in hindsight, the meeting could not have gone any better. Through empathy and determination, Noctis managed to gain the first secretary's unreserved trust.

He mostly had to thank Iggy for this, because of his notes, but also Ardyn, for actually keeping his mouth shut throughout the entire meeting – apart from that one time Noctis had asked him to rope Aranea into helping with the evacuation. Noctis was not going to forget that baffled look on his face any time soon. As if he could not have a stroke of genius from time to time. And the best thing about that idea? Noctis had yet to hear a complaint from Ardyn in return.

Chapter Text

“Friends, please excuse me for not standing before you today like I usually would. I am afraid the trials I have faced thus far have weakened me more than expected.”

“On this day, I speak to you on a matter which concerns us all. A great darkness is looming over our star, slowly, but surely, robbing us of daylight, and luring daemons to the doors of our homes. With the ever-lasting night drawing nearer, despair grows in the hearts of men. A greater despair than the one many of you had to experience during Insomnia's fall. This darkness which has been foretold spreads in the form of an illness you know by the name of Starscourge. Like any other disease, it too, can be researched and cured, if we bear the will and determination to do so.”

“We have reached a turning point in the history of mankind. This is our choice. We can fight the darkness ourselves, or place our faith in the Bladekeeper to banish the darkness for us. The Draconian's plan, however, demands many sacrifices to be made. His price is to be paid in tears, blood and freedom.”

“I, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, have arrived here in Altissia, to forge a covenant with the sea goddess Leviathan, in order to empower the Chosen King to act in the name of the people and shoulder the burden of responsibility. I know that, whichever path he ultimately chooses, he will do so with everyone's well-being in mind.”

Two weeks.

That was how much time had passed since Luna's speech had been broadcast across all stations, and Noctis still had not seen her in person. He remembered her voice sounding a little hoarse, as well as that small gasp for air in between her words. On TV, they only had shown pictures and archive footage of the Oracle. An unpleasant feeling had nestled in the pit of Noctis' stomach since. What more would the gods demand of her, if her work had already pushed her to the point of breaking?

These trials had to stop, and soon. All the better that Leviathan was the last god whose favour Noctis had to gain. If the reports were to be trusted, Shiva had been killed by the Niff army, and both she and the treacherous Ifrit, slain and buried by Bahamut ages ago, could stay dead for all he cared.

Although Luna was said to have been present in Altissia all throughout the past weeks, two obstacles still kept her and Noctis from meeting. One being the Niff soldiers and commanders that guarded her every hour of the day ever since Ravus had put her under his protection. The other problem was Noctis' involvement in the rushed evacuation of the city, simply because he and everyone else spent a considerable amount of time each day guiding civilians out of the city while the Empire brought more and more troops in.

It had taken several days for Ardyn to get Aranea on the phone. It turned out that she had already cut her connections with the Empire and would not even have picked up had he not been calling her non-stop. Once she was done shouting at him, Noctis and Ardyn had calmly explained the situation, and, believe it or not, she eventually agreed to help.

Her airship and crew proved to be invaluable in the evacuation, since Accordo had no airships of their own, and Niflheim provided no assistance whatsoever. The Emperor and Ravus only rallied their forces in anticipation of Leviathan's awakening.

Nothing had ever seemed stranger to Noctis than to see Altissia turn from this bustling tourist hotspot into a ghost town over the course of two short weeks. If it was not for the sounds of the waves and the wind, as well as the occasional squad of MTs marching by, it had become deathly silent in most parts of the city. There was no more chatter, no more music. Most Food stalls and shop windows had been emptied, many open doors had been closed.

It was as though the city itself was holding its breath for the upcoming battle.

With each passing day, the tension grew. Neither Noctis nor any of his allies knew when Luna was going to set out to begin the awakening ritual. This decision was in the hands of Ravus, and, according to what Ardyn had told him, Ravus was a very impatient man.

Chances were, he was not going to wait until the very last boat had departed.

#-#-#

The sea laid calm before the Altar of the Tidemother. Almost too calm, as though the slumbering sea goddess was keeping the waters still. The sight might have inspired peace of mind on any another day, when there were no Imperial airships hovering side-by-side in the sky all around the ancient structure.

With the Trident of the Oracle in hand Lunafreya brushed a rifle aside that was pointed at her head and strode past the magitek soldiers. Up until her arrival, they had been surrounding her and following her every step, but not even they dared to climb the stairs leading up to the altar. The divine and the daemonic did not mix well.

And yet both forces resided within her.

The sunlight prickling her skin was still a most unpleasant sensation, if only because the Oracle should not have to fear the light. Lunafreya adjusted her hat as she climbed the steps. The additional clothes helped her to stay focused, hid her affliction and kept the public from worrying about her. Her strength had been waning for a while now, yet the Starscourge left her restless, unable to break down and give in completely. In this sense, the Bladekeeper's punishment turned out to be a gift. One she intended to make the most of … even if it cost her life. To meet her end by serving her cause was what she had been prepared for ever since she had received the Oracle's calling.

With unwavering resolve, Lunafreya walked the last steps to the edge of the ancient stone structure and looked out over the ocean before her.

Gathering her thoughts and her hopes, the Oracle began to sing.

A gentle breeze carried her voice to the rooftops of Altissia, where it faded away, unheard and unpraised.

#-#-#

In another corner of the city, a gloomy melody drifted out of the open balcony door of a vacant hotel. Gloved hands hovered over the keys of a grand piano. Honestly, the instrument was too beautiful not to play it, especially now that there were hardly any people left in the city to do so.

Ardyn hummed along to the sound of the keys.

Of course, instead of sitting here and enjoying the music, he could be at the port herding the remaining citizens out onto the boats, like Noctis and his friends were doing in this instant. But firstly, that seemed like a lot of tedious work, and secondly, there were too many Gralean refugees among the people. They bore the Starscourge in its early stages and, although Ardyn would never openly admit it, the sight of such misery reminded him too much of days long gone. The only way for him to ease their suffering today was to daemonify them instantly. Killing the afflicted, however, was the equivalent to admitting Somnus had been right, and that was one two-thousand-year-old argument Ardyn still intended to win. Being immortal had to be good for something, if only to have the last word.

A light flashing across the sky drew his attention away from the music. He deigned himself to get up from the piano's stool and strode out onto the balcony.

In the sky far above the Altar of the Tidemother, a great barrier formed, not unlike the one which had protected Insomnia once. It slowly stretched out over the magitek engines, presumably to create a gigantic goldfish bowl to trap the sea goddess in. Ardyn had to admit he had not foreseen this move. More importantly, however, if Ravus was invoking the ring's magic already, Lady Lunafreya had to be mere minutes away from summoning the Hydrean.

“I believe this is my cue, then,” he said to himself.

Leaning onto the balustrade, he let the wind dissolve his form into particles and carry him towards the grounds of the impending battle.

#-#-#

“Noct!” Ignis called over the crowd of people to the prince. “There's something going on over at the Altar of the Tidemother!”

Two more boats. That was all which was needed to ferry the last few people out of the city. Aranea would take the remaining Altissian city guards on board of her airship, and then the evacuation would be complete.

Apparently, it also would have killed Ravus to wait another hour or so.

Noctis glanced to where Ignis was pointing at. A magical shield had begun to form in the sky and was slowly spanning over the entirety of the altar and the sea before it.

“What is that?” Prompto asked, looking puzzled. “The Wall? Here, in Altissia?”

“Ravus must be using the ring,” Ignis concluded.

“We gotta hurry!” Gladio exclaimed. “Or he's gonna lock us out of the fight!” He was about to turn and run when Prompto touched his shoulder.

“But, what about the evacuation?”

Aranea stepped out of the crowd of people waiting in line for one of the boats.

“Just leave the rest to me,” she said. “You do whatever it is you need to do.”

“Thanks, Aranea!” Noctis replied and ran off, back into the heart of the city. His friends quickly caught up to him.

Together, they hurried up a flight of stairs, past a plaza and over a bridge, and further still, towards the altar. Noctis had cursed the maze-like layout of the city before, but not as much as he did in these moments. Time was of the essence now more than ever. Whenever there were no buildings blocking his view, his gaze locked onto the hexagonal pattern of the Wall continuously extending towards ground level. This was going to be a godsdamn close call.

With clenched teeth, Noctis channelled all his strength into the sprint. Warping might have been a little faster, but he was not sure how long his magic would last and he did not want to leave his friends behind, either.

Finally, the Altar of the Tidemother came into view. Just one or two more buildings to pass and one more canal to cross. Noctis rounded the last corner when he saw the Wall descend onto the canal. It had already closed off the bridge leading across.

“Keep going!” Gladio yelled behind him.

With no other choice left, Noctis threw his blade, warped through the opening across the water and did a sommersault to break the momentum. Bearing the hope his friends could somehow make it too, he instantly looked back, but the gap in the Wall had closed already.

Prompto abruptly halted at the edge of the canal, almost falling in, but Gladio caught him by his arm.

“Go on ahead!” Ignis shouted over to Noctis. “We'll find a way through.”

A magitek engine hovering by cast a shadow on Noctis' retainers. They turned around as it descended onto the level of the Altissian roofs and its front slowly opened.

“Who have we got here?” a voice said over loud speaker. “If it isn't the prince's personnel. I must hereby inform you that you have entered a restricted area. As you should know, the punishment for trespassing on military grounds is death, and I'll gladly perform the execution myself.”

“Caligo Ulldor,” Ignis said.

Gladio summoned and shouldered his great sword. “We've still got a score to settle.”

Out of the cargo bay of the airship, a gold-painted magitek armour of respectable size jumped out onto the street, smashing a balcony in the process.

For a moment, Noctis was torn between trying to head back and continuing onwards to the altar, but then he saw Prompto gesturing behind his back and signalling Noctis to just “go”.

Right. There were three of them and just one Niff commander with an ego bigger than his ridiculously painted armour. They would be fine. Dealing with the Tidemother and keeping Luna safe from her, however, was Noctis' responsibility and his alone.
He turned towards the altar and burst into a sprint once more.

#-#-#

Luna was still singing to the best of her capabilities when something deep within the ocean stirred. The voice of the Tidemother caused the water's surface to tremble.

“What foolish mortal dares break the slumber of the Tide!?”

“It is I, Lunafreya, Blood of the Oracle!”, she called out to the waves. “Goddess of the Seas, I beseech you: enter into this covenant that the King might lead this world into an age of light and freedom!”

A sudden gust of wind tore the hat from Luna's head and carried it away. She held tight onto the Trident to steady herself.

From the depths of the sea, the Hydrean burst through the surface, sending great waves crashing against the Wall and the few buildings within. If it was not for Ravus containing them, these waves would have flooded all the streets in Altissia already. Although the sea goddess was often pictured as a creature part human, part fish, her true form was that of a great and sleek sea serpent whose fins extended almost from one side of the Wall to the other. Turning her head from side to side, Leviathan roared at the sight of the magical barrier that was keeping her locked in together with the Oracle and the airships of the Niflheim army.

“The insolence!” the goddess' voice boomed. “A tainted creature like you would trap a goddess and demand her might?” With a light movement of her fins, she whipped up a wave and splashed water at the Oracle.

Luna was not intimidated.

“We will not allow your rage to destroy people's lives!” she claimed firmly. “Calm your temper and listen to me!”

“Do not speak to me! You are but a tarnished speck, not even fit for devouring!”

In her rage, the Hydrean slammed her head into the pillars of the altar, toppling them with ease.

The largest stones missed Luna, but many smaller ones struck her, causing numerous scratches as she defiantly held her ground.

“Blasphemous wretch! Men are all ingrates, undeserving of this goddess' support, and now they send a corrupted Oracle to commune with the gods?!”

“This darkness you sense is but a testimony to the Draconian's unjust punishment of men. A god cannot be a god without worship, but only gods who are willing to show mercy and humility in return merit respect and praise.”

“A god need not listen to a mere speck!”

Smaller versions of the Tidemother formed out of rapidly swirling water and shot towards Luna. She dodged the first, the second ripped her dress at the legs and brought her to her knees. She struggled back to her feet as fast as she could when Leviathan's open maw shot down to swallow her whole.

Through the Trident of the Oracle, Luna summoned the light just in time as the great sea serpent's jaws snapped shut around her. Her retaliation was both swift and powerful enough to drive the Tidemother back, even stagger her for a moment.

“If you do not intend to listen to me,” Luna continued, “let the Chosen King convince you of men's strength and will!”

A strange noise echoed across the waters, as though the goddess was laughing at her.

“Ha! So let this King of yours test his might against mine! If he fails, know that my fury shall know no bounds! These walls will shatter and I will feed on men until every last heretic has been devoured!”

“I vow that the Chosen King will not fail,” Luna claimed with conviction.

“Then this covenant shall be forged!”, Leviathan finally agreed, even though she seemed to do it fully expecting Noctis to lose against her. Yet a covenant was a pact that could not be broken. If Noctis succeeded in her trial – and Lunafreya had faith he would – the Hydrean was bound to aid him, whether she liked it or not.

#-#-#

Another MT went down face-first, with the Engine Blade stuck in its back and Noctis towering above it. The prince quickly phased out of the way of a number of bullets, then struck at the remaining riflemen, quickly taking them out. They posed little to no threat, but hindered Noctis on his way to the altar nonetheless.

To the left of him, Leviathan was winding along the inside of this magical goldfish bowl. Her fins strained the barrier where they grazed it, sometimes creating small tears that closed again within seconds.

Underneath of the sea goddess, waves whipped back and forth, building up their destructive strength. Already, Noctis felt the foundations of the walkway shake with every movement of the water. A great wave rolled towards him and the next batch of MTs charging forwards. Quick thinking, Noctis point-warped to the rooftop of the nearest house just before the wave hit. Its force nearly knocked him off the edge. A crack ran along the magical barrier from one side of the building to the other, and the entire half of the house tilted beneath Noctis' feet. Accompanied by the sounds of cracking stone and splintering wood, the half which was not protected by the barrier began to sink into the waves, while the receding waters took the MTs and the walkway with them.

Noctis struggled to stay upright on the loosening shingles when Leviathan floated past him again. Hoping to gain some footing on her body, he threw his blade at her and warped over. His sword did not stick, his feet slipped on the wet scales, yet as he fell, he managed to grab hold onto a fin.

“Leviathan, grant me your blessing!” he shouted.

A noise resounded through the magical sphere that made Noctis believe Leviathan was laughing at him. That arrogant sea goddess was not taking him seriously. Water splashed into his face as the Tidemother lowered the tip of her fin into the waves.

Noctis ground his teeth. “Don't expect me to ask nicely again!”

He aimed further up at the sea serpent's body and, making full use of his warping abilities, struck her once, twice, three times and kept going, for as long as his magic allowed him to zoom back in and keep himself from falling.

Yet it was only a matter of seconds until he hit stasis. Plummetting down from great height, Noctis hoped he had dealt some good damage. Much like Titan, Leviathan too, barely let any injury show.

He felt the Royal Arms at his fingertips, calling out to him. They were almost ready to be unleashed from his armiger, if only …

His thoughts were momentarily interrupted when he crashed hard through the cold water's surface. Instinctively, Noctis found his way back up, gasped for air, but the sea around him was moving violently and within mere seconds another wave pushed him underwater again.

From what he had seen of his surroundings, all but a handful of the buildings and man-made structures had been destroyed by the Tidemother's powers already. What little dry ground remained lay far out of his reach. If he was to regain his footing and magic, he would have to swim over first and Leviathan was not making it easy.

At least the machine gun fire opened by the magitek engines overhead was drawing the Hydrean's attention away from him.

#-#-#

Ardyn put two fingers to his mouth and whistled. A gesture that was wholly unnecessary, but all the more fun because of it.

“Yoo hoo, Ifrit! The Chosen King requires your divine assistance. Be so kind and lend him your aid, will you?”

He stood in front of a small plaza, wide and open, without any obstacles. Probably the only place completely untouched by the waves thus far, and perfect for summoning an entity of the Infernian's size. Expectantly, Ardyn raised his arms to welcome the Pyreburner. He waited one second, another, and just when it seemed as though Ifrit would not answer his call, the roaring of erupting flames sounded behind him.

A sigh escaped his lips. After all those years, it should not have surprised him, really. The Infernian always found a way to make his disapproval of their “covenant” known, even if only in the smallest displays of disobedience.

Ardyn glanced over his shoulder. “His Majesty is no apt swimmer, and I believe the Tidemother has an unfair advantage at the moment. If you could take down a few of those uselessly many Magitek engines, your Chosen King will have at least some ground to stand and fight on.”

The fire god walked around him, trying to scorch him with his gaze of unadulterated hatred, and Ardyn turned to him with his arms outstretched, feeling unjustly offended.

“Come now, don't act like I asked you to toast a slice of bread for me! That was just one time.”

“My allegiance does not lie with the Chosen King,” Ifrit said in the voice of gods. Only thanks to having absorbed his memories, and thus, his language, was Ardyn able to understand him, but even so, the voice of the god sounded as soothing as nails scraping across a chalkboard.

“But my allegiance lies with him,” Ardyn argued. “For the time being, anyway. And as you should already know, we are planning to put that nasty Draconian into his place. Certainly you remember Bahamut? The very same old dragon who buried you atop the Rock of Ravatogh?”

“I have no intention to serve men who will dispose of their gods as they see fit.”

“Ah, but of course. You are still thinking of what happened in Solheim. This, however, is something else entirely. Our mission is not about blasphemy, it is about vengeance, and would it not please you to have some for yourself?”

The Infernian turned his attention away, seemingly uninterested to listen to his arguments.

Sighing in frustration, Ardyn waved a hand and dismissed the Infernian. He did not have the time to argue with him. “Just go and do as you are told for now. Take out your burning hatred on the Empire to your heart's content.”

In a burst of flames, Ifrit disappeared.

#-#-#

Noctis struggled to swim through the raging waves. Whenever his magic recovered a little, he warp-struck at the Hydrean again, but if this game of literal “rinse and repeat” kept going, he was going to be worn out long before the sea goddess went down. If it was not for the adrenalin in his veins, the cold sea might have caused him to cramp up already.

Far up in the sky, a fiery explosion erupted among the hovering airships. The Hydrean had knocked one or two down already, but this was someone – or something – else's doing. Three ships began to lose altitude one after another in rapid succession.

Another wave washed over Noctis and when his head came up for air again, he shook the wet strands of hair out of his eyes and saw a large, humanoid figure enshrouded in flames riding the closest airship down towards him.

“What the -?” he sputtered.

Fire engulfed the supernatural figure and disappeared along with it while the MT engine continued its descent at a slow, but steady pace. It missed Noctis as it hit the troubled water, but floated long enough for him to warp on top of it. He stumbled, so unfamiliar was the sensation of firm ground underneath his feet after having been tossed about the waves for so long.

Immediately, his magic recovered. Noctis almost felt the Royal Arms in the air around him. Just a little closer, and he could unleash everything he had at the Hydrean. By point-warping, he crossed over to the second, then the third descending airship, getting much closer to Leviathan's head and the other MT engines in the process. On top of the largest engine, the flaming figure reappeared, wielding a curved sword. Only then got Noctis close enough to realise he was looking at yet another Astral.

The so-called treacherous Pyreburner looked much like a man of average build with brown hair that reached to his neck, except that he was easily five times as tall as an ordinary human, a number of horns curled from his head and there were glossy black markings all over his ashen body. They formed swirling patterns, especially so on his left side, arm and leg. With a start, Noctis recognised the markings as signs of the Starscourge, if not something found on daemons, and it shocked him to think that even an Astral could be infected.

Somehow, Noctis was instantly convinced that this had to be Ardyn's doing, yet there was no time for him to dwell on it. For now, he was just glad that the Infernian appeared to support him. Perhaps the story of Ifrit's treason was nothing more than another of Bahamut's lies.

A pillar of golden light rose from the remains of the altar, where the Oracle stood, as Noctis ran along the length of the airship, further closing in on the Hydrean. Magic was humming all around him, growing stronger than ever before.

“Thanks, Luna.”

Without stopping, he jumped off the highest point of the airship and let the Royal Arms burst from his armiger all at once. They swirled around him, providing him with the ability to float effortlessly around Leviathan. With so much magic at his disposal, the rest of the fight was going to be a breeze. His confidence surged. By flicking his wrist, he send some of the Royal Arms at the great sea serpent, striking her body with an explosive magical force.

Roaring, Leviathan reared back and finally turned her attention to him.

She would have to take him seriously now.

Chapter Text

If Ignis was to rate Caligo's combat abilities, he would say that the man possessed neither skill nor strength, but that his MT armour withstood a surprising amount of damage. Although the machine had taken a few good hits already, only its gold paint had begun to peel off thus far.

A victory over Caligo, however, was second to Ignis, as long as they kept the Commander from hindering the last evacuation efforts or supporting Ravus in his conflict with Noctis. Naturally, Ignis would have preferred to fight at Noct's side, but he was confident that with the aid of Lady Lunafreya and the former Chancellor – wherever he had gone – the prince was well prepared to take on the Hydrean. Out of the corner of his eye, Ignis saw little of the fight with the sea goddess. Waves as tall as Altissian houses were crashing against the inside of the Wall, blocking his view and casting shadows on him and his comrades. The strain on the magical barrier was obvious as well.

Ignis dodged a couple of missiles Caligo had launched at him while Prompto slid through the machine's stilts from the other side with heavy machinery in his hands and a confident smile on his face.

“Here comes the Prompto Special!”

He fired a Gravisphere right in front of the MT's cockpit. Its pull tethered Caligo to the spot, if only for a few seconds. Immediately, Ignis and Gladio moved in to follow-up with spear and great sword strikes, but the MT's flame thrower activated and, with a sweep around himself, Caligo forced them back and the Gravisphere disappeared.

“You put up much more of a fight than that stubborn little redhead I captured, I have to give you that,” Caligo said over the MT's loudspeaker.

Prompto halted his retreat and looked at Ignis, confused. “Stubborn little …?”

“Redhead?” Ignis finished for him.

All three of them must have come to the same conclusion, but Gladio was the first to say it. “What did you do to Valyria?” he demanded to know of Caligo.

“Was that her name?” The Niff Commander's laugh reverberated through his armour. “I had to be stupid to tell you anything!”

Gladio shot him a glare. “You better speak up or we'll tear you down!” With his great sword raised high, he jumped at the cockpit of the MT armour and struck it with such a force that the machine stumbled back and fell off its stilts.

“Now's our chance!” Ignis called out to Prompto, before closing in himself to stab his spear in between the machine's joints – or at least that was what he had planned to do.

Another MT amour, slightly sleeker in build and not painted as ridiculously, dropped out of the sky in front of Caligo. It threw Gladio back, a split second before he could have brought down his sword on the Niff Commander's cockpit.

“Where is he!?”, the pilot of the second armour shouted.

“Who are you talking about?”, Ignis replied.

The smaller MT pointed a mechanical arm at him.

“Don't pretend you came to Altissia without the Marshal!”, the pilot replied. “Where is he?”

“Like Cor would waste any time with you air-headed idiots!” Gladio called back at him. “Just who are you, anyway?”

“I am General Brigadier Loqi Tummelt of the glorious house of Tummelt, but you will know me as the man who brought the legend of Cor the Immortal to an end!”

Prompto shot Ignis a perturbed glance. “Talk about an unhealthy fixation …”

In the meantime, Caligo had gotten his MT back onto its stilts. “Why don't you prove your worth against those rats first before you take on the Immortal?”

“I will,” Loqi replied and readied a chainsaw-like weapon on one of his armour's arms.

The gold-painted MT took a step back as though Caligo was planning to leave his opponents to his fellow Commander and retreat. Just as he turned around, however, a woman wearing black-and-red armour jumped from a roof on top of the MT and buried the tip of her magitek powered spear into the machine's outer casing. Her surprise attack threw off Caligo's balance again, causing his machine to stumble into Loqi's.

Laughing, Prompto pumped a fist in the air. “Woo hoo! Go for it, Aranea!”

“Get off of me!” Loqi shouted as he and Caligo frantically untangled the limbs of their machines.

Using their distraction to her advantage, the Dragoon hopped from one MT to the other and landed before Ignis and Prompto. “You didn't think I'd let you have all the fun for yourselves?”, she said with a smile.

“What about the evacuation?” Ignis asked.

“Good as complete. Biggs and Wedge can handle the rest.”

Caligo pushed Loqi aside and took a step towards the Dragoon. “Commodore Highwind!”

She put a hand on her hip. “That's Ex-Commodore to you.”

“First you resign from the Imperial army and now you turn against the very same Empire who took you in?”

“This has nothing to do with the Empire in its entirety, Ulldor. This is personal. The Empire used to fight for a noble cause, but it's become pretty rotten since. Just look at the two of you.”

“You take that back!” Loqi demanded instantly.

“I will show you what the Empire does with traitors such as you!” Given his age and experience, Caligo really should know better than to fall for such provocations, but apparently he did not.

Aranea easily dodged the mechanical claw with which he tried to stomp her. She performed a sweeping blow and hit the limb's joint with destructive precision, breaking it into two. Again, Caligo's MT armour toppled.

At about the same time, Loqi launched a round of missiles, but Prompto quickly shot them down so that Gladio could run past and deliver another heavy blow to the chassis of Caligo's armour. The impact pushed the machine off the side of the street and into the canal. Its engine whirred loudly, yet the propellers on its remaining limbs did not spin.

As Loqi stepped in to drive Gladio back with his chainsaw attachment, Aranea jumped on top of his machine again and dislodged the mechanical limb. Her hands-on-combat expertise clearly overwhelmed the lesser experienced Commander.

Meanwhile, the golden MT was sinking fast. It had obviously sustained too much damage to manoeuvre itself out of the canal. Just as the cockpit threatened to sink below the waterline, it opened with a hiss and Caligo emerged to escape the golden death trap.

Gladio moved in to confront the Niff Commander, but when Caligo tried to cross from the machine onto the side of the street, his foot got caught on a piece of metal.

“No! No, wait!” He desperately tried to gab hold onto the pavement stones, yet to no avail.

Ignis felt no remorse watching the machine drag the man to a watery grave. Judging by Caligo's character, he had not listened to Jared's pleads, either. Ignis' only regret was that they did not get to interrogate him on what had happened to Valyria.

Huffing in frustration, Gladio turned back from the side of the street once he realized that the Commander would not reemerge. Surely, he would have liked to take a swing at Caligo's arrogant face.

Aranea slid own the remaining mechanical arm of Loqi's MT.

“Face it, pretty boy,” she said once she had returned to the side of Noct's retinue, “you're outnumbered.”

Although Loqi was completely hidden inside the MT's cockpit, Ignis could easily imagine his distraught and furious expression.

His machine jumped on top of a nearby roof, breaking several shingles as he struggled to keep his balance.

“You haven't seen the last of me yet!” Loqi claimed and disappeared into the city beyond.

#-#-#

Beyond the Wall, the force of the waves had destroyed most of the altar, including the staircase that had led up to it. All that was left was a small walkway jutting out onto the sea, to which Luna had retreated in order to call upon the favour of the Old Kings.

The Starscourge, however, did not agree with her efforts to support Noctis.

It was squirming painfully inside of her, as if trying and failing to escape the divine magic she was channelling through her body, and wrecking every fibre of her being in the process. The longer she kept going, the worse it got. Luna pushed herself to her limits, but due to the two forces clashing within her, there was only so much she could do.

Shaking from exhaustion and clutching the Trident of the Oracle with her last remaining strength, she sunk to her knees. Gentle hands caught her as she tipped to the side. Their touch felt as light and cool on her skin as the winds drifting from Niflheim's tundra to Tenebrae.

Gentiana held her carefully.

“Please, rest easy now,” she said, sounding concerned. “You have done more than enough for today.”

Several moments passed before the pain subsided and Luna's surroundings came back into focus.

Far above the sea, Noctis was gliding through the air and hurling Royal Arms at the Hydrean. In a single warp-strike, he cut clean through one of the Tidemother's fins. It was obvious that he already had the upper hand. If he only saw this through, Leviathan would be bound by the covenant.

Luna hoped dearly that the amount of magic she had provided him with would suffice to last him through the battle.

Even so, this was but one fight in a much greater war. To attain the power to change fate, the Chosen King needed the support of two more gods, at the very least.

“My work is not done yet,” Luna claimed. She tightened her grip on the trident and tried to get up, but her legs buckled. “Help me, Gentiana.”

“What could you possibly hope to achieve more?” the messenger asked as she helped Luna back to her feet.

Despite Gentiana's hand at her back, Luna was barely able to keep herself upright. Still, she locked her gaze onto the faraway figure of the fire god on top of the airships. “The prophecy asks for five covenants to be forged. Unless Ifrit grants him his blessing, the Chosen King will be forced to turn to the Draconian for aid. He will never be free to choose.”

“I do not wish for you to sacrifice your humanity to appease the Pyreburner,” Gentiana said. “Although the King is still unaware of this, he already has the Frostbearer's blessing. This must be enough.”

“You know it is not enough,” Luna said firmly. “And only I may hope to free Ifrit of his curse.”

With the messenger at her side to keep her steady, Luna turned to the battlefield.

“Infernian!” she called out to the sky. “A word, if I may?”

Her voice no longer had the strength to reach far, yet the gods were bound to listen to the Oracle, no matter the distance. A heat wave washed over her as the fire god appeared at the remains of the altar. For a moment, he merely hovered there. When his bare soles touched the stone, the puddles of water around him instantly evaporated. Luna's gaze traced the terrifying black patterns of the Starscourge up the fire god's body all the way to his deadly glare.

Ifrit's expression twisted into a hate-filled grimace. Without any warning, he raised his sword.

Robbed of all her strength, Luna could do little else but close her eyes.

The heat which engulfed the Inferian's sword grazed her head, but his blade never struck. Gentiana had reached past her and stopped the sword with her outstretched hand. Drops of water trickled down her palm where the cutting edge had met the messenger's pale skin without harming it.

“Show some manners in the presence of the Oracle,” she demanded firmly.

Just then Luna realized Ifrit's glare was not directed at her.

Scowling at Gentiana, he withdrew his sword. “You should have died. Why are you not dead?”

“There is still much left to do,” Gentiana replied calmly. “The Frostbearer's life resolves neither around petty fights with the Niflheim army, nor a love long lost.”

“I will not forgive you your betrayal,” Ifrit harshly stated. “You turned your back on me when I needed you most.”

“When you summoned the meteor, you were no longer the Pyreburner who believed in mankind. The generous god who once gave them the gift of fire. The watchful god, who wished to see them prosper.”

A flicker of remembrance crossed the fire god's face and Luna seized this chance to voice her intention.

“Infernian, if you will allow it, I wish to cure you from this corruption and restore you to your former glory.”

“In doing so, you will become much like the Accursed.” The tone of Ifrit's voice revealed some small amount of disbelief at her devotion. “What do you hope to gain in return?”

“I want you to be able to forge a covenant out of your own free will. All I humbly ask is that you join the Chosen King in his quest to usher this world into an age of light.”

“It will be an age without gods,” the Infernian argued. “I have seen what guidance the Accursed has offered to the Chosen King.”

“You misunderstand,” Luna replied. “It is the Empire who wages war against all gods. The Accursed seeks only to dispose of the Bladekeeper, who deceived the line of Lucis into generations of pointless self-sacrifice.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Gentiana's mouth. “You never shared the Draconian's view of the world.”

“Knowing that your sacrifice might be pointless as well, you would still choose to give your humanity for my freedom?”

Her resolve remained unshaken. “I do.”

There was a moment of silence between them.

“Then so be it,” Ifrit eventually said and lowered himself onto a knee before her.

Although they were still far from being at eye level with each other, Luna stepped closer to attempt the healing. She found it difficult to move, especially since Gentiana stayed back, yet she leaned onto the Trident of the Oracle and let her determination push her on. This might be her only chance to ever cure the fire god. It was rare for the Accursed to summon him, and rarer still, for her to be nearby when it happened. Had Gentiana not told her of their unholy covenant, she would not have know how to find the fire god in the first place.

Taking a deep breath, Luna held out a hand to the Infernian.

“Oh no you don't!”

In a cry of pain, Ifrit doubled over and fell to his elbows. All of a sudden, the Astral writhed under the effects of the Starscourge like a common mortal.

Luna turned her attention to where the street met the remains of the altar.

There stood Ardyn, known to the gods as the Accursed, with his hand raised and bend his fingers inwards as though he was crushing the fire god in his grasp.
“Slunk away for an audience with the Oracle, have we?” His casual choice of words did not hide the fact that he was seething with anger.

“This is my decision and mine alone!” Luna protested.

“Naive brat! Has he not told you?” Ardyn pointed at the Infernian, who was still on his hands and knees, crippled by the pain. “I have already been where you are now, using that selfsame accursed power to try and cure the world! Do you intend to end up like me, a threat to the very existence of life on Eos!?”

Luna looked back at the Astral, and it tore her heart in two to see a god shackled by the darkness like this.

“I have already made up my mind,” she calmly said. “Gentiana, if you would.”

Her guardian needed no further instructions. Gentiana stepped forward and blew a seemingly gentle kiss into Ardyn's direction. Her breath transformed into a freezing gust of wind. Ice particles formed all over the body of the Accursed until he was frozen in place like a statue, unable to bat as much as an eye.

At the other end of the altar, Ifrit's tense body collapsed the second he was freed of the pain. Taking pity on him, Luna approached the weakened god again. She dared to lightly touch his cheek when he lifted his head to look at her.
Focusing all her devotion, determination and faith, Luna closed her eyes and called upon her divine powers to draw out the Starscourge. The squirming, inky blackness responded, but even she was overwhelmed to discover how much there was of it. Ifrit carried the corruption of an entire population. Her fingers grew numb and a tear ran down her cheek as she braced herself to take all of it into herself.

#-#-#

Roaring in frustration at her defeat, Leviathan sunk beneath the waves. What little remained visible of the sea serpent's greatly injured body glowed brightly before fading away. Although Noctis had almost torn the Tidemother to pieces, he knew from his experience with Titan that she would be back all well and healthy the next time he called upon her. Apparently, the physical appearance was not all there was to a god.

He was still riding that high of his victory when his supply of magic abruptly ran out, the Royal Arms shattered into soul crystals around him, and he dropped out of the sky like a stone. He also crashed into the sea like one.
Noctis bit back a curse as he struggled to come up for air again. On this day alone he had gotten soaked with cold water more than often enough for the entire rest of his life. To make matters worse, his body was throbbing with an unfamiliar ache. It was, perhaps, the repercussion of spending so much more magic than he could normally build up on his own. At least the waves were finally beginning to calm down, now that the Hydrean was gone, so that he actually stood a chance to swim over to the nearest remains of Altissian architecture.

Faster than expected, Noctis reached one of the partially destroyed streets. However, once he had heaved himself ashore, he became aware just how much the use of the armiger had drained him. The exhaustion was not bad enough to keep him from standing up, but his body was practically begging him to get some rest. Noctis promised to himself to sleep for a week as soon as all of this was over.

He rose to his feet and quickly found his bearings. The altar laid not too far away and, with a little bit of luck and effort, he might make it there without another dip into the sea. From the distance, Noctis recognised Luna, Gentiana and the fire god and even though he could not tell what was going on exactly, a gut feeling urged him to hurry.

He broke into a sprint only to stumble and fall. His old injury was acting up, forcing him to half-run, half-limp towards the altar.
Cursed be the gods if he had to fight the Infernian straight after his ordeal with the Tidemother.

#-#-#

Gentiana caught her once more as Luna fell back onto her knees. She felt miserable through and through, as though she truly was a vessel, filled to the brim with a thick liquid that was somehow moving on his own, occupying every space within her self and gnawing through her insides at an alarming pace. The Starscourge clouded her mind and weighted down her limbs.

In front of her, the Pyreburner proudly rose back to his feet. The last of the black markings on his body flaked off and dissolved, returning his skin to a healthy-looking colour. He radiated a constant warmth that might have been pleasant to anyone else, yet failed to permeate the darkness gathering within and around Luna.

“I shall always remember your deed,” the Infernian said, looking at her with the same stoic expression most gods wore, before disappearing in a holy light.

Luna just barely registered how badly the light stung. There was no guarantee, but she sincerely hoped to have moved the fire god's hardened heart. She clung to that hope while it was getting increasingly difficult to stay focused on the here and now.

As she slumped back against the arms of her guardian, dark clouds entered her vision. The Trident of the Oracle burned like red-hot metal in her palm. It fell to the ground, clattering.

“I am so sorry.”

Gentiana pushed a loose strand of hair out of Luna's face and the Oracle caught a glimpse of her face one last time before it, too, was consumed by the all-encompassing darkness.

The Oracle's world turned black, but Luna remained inexplicably conscious. She found herself powerless, slumped and kneeling on a hard ground in a strange and dark place. The pain was gone, but so was the real world.
Out of the nothingness, the ghostly apparition of a former Oracle appeared. Sylva Nox Fleuret looked like she had at the morning of the day Fenestala Manor burned. She moved elegantly in her long dress, as would be expected of the former queen of Tenebrae.

Of course, Luna could not compare to her looks, with her dishevelled hair, torn dress and sickly pale skin.

“Mother …,” she croaked in a hoarse voice.

Her mother's face bore not the kind and loving expression she remembered.

“I am greatly disappointed in you,” Sylva said, looking down on her daughter with disdain. “You lend your ear to the Accursed, you dare to question the will of the gods, and now you have set free the god who once sought to destroy Eos in its entirety. And what for? Without the grace of the gods, man cannot hope to survive.”

Hearing her mother speak hurt on so many levels. During her training as Oracle, Luna had often thought to hear her mother's voice, and had longed to see her one more time. Sylva's sudden and painful death had not just turned Ravus' heart to stone, it had also left a scar on Luna's soul. The passing of time might have healed the wound, but the events of that day remained forever etched into her memory.
Despite the emotional pain the apparition brought with it, some small part of Luna longed for it to stay near and comfort her, like her mother had so many years ago.

“There is always hope,” Luna mumbled, trying to focus on those words and folding her hands in prayer. In the darkest of nights, even the smallest glimmer of hope shone bright. She had to hold tight onto it.

Sylva stepped up to her. “There is no hope. You have fallen for the false promise that one boy might live, and you have doomed them all.”

Chapter Text

The closer Noctis got to the altar the clearer it became just how much Luna needed his help. Shortly after Ifrit had disappeared, black clouds erupted from Luna. Fear gripped his heart when he remembered something very similar happening before – in Ardyn's memory of the day he turned immortal.

Gentiana, who held the weakened Oracle, was swallowed by the darkness. The next time the clouds parted, if only for the fraction of a second, she was gone. All around the altar, the magical barrier was falling apart and letting the remaining waves roll out into the city.

Ignoring the pain in his leg and back, Noctis pushed on even faster. At the side of the road before him appeared Ardyn, frozen stiff as though he had gotten caught in the coldest snowstorm of history. Just as Noctis was looking his way, the frost melted off him. Ardyn jerked himself free from the spell and marched, without a moment's hesitation, towards Luna's collapsed form amidst the swirling darkness. He raised a hand as if intending to slap her full-force.

Despite having little to no magic left in him – it was building extremely slowly – Noctis crossed the remaining distance by warping to reappear right in front of Ardyn. He grabbed the taller man's arm and kept him from bringing his hand down upon Luna.

“What are you doing?”, Noctis shouted. “You promised you'd never hurt her!”

Unadulterated anger was written all over Ardyn's face.

Noctis remained fearless, knowing that his fury was not directed at him and continued to stare him down.

Ardyn attempted to push Noctis aside, but since the Prince did not give way, he tore his arm free from Noctis' grasp instead, turned around and walked a few steps away, huffing angrily.

Noctis immediately seized the chance to check on Luna. In a hopeless attempt to protect himself, he approached the dark storm with his arms raised in front of him. The clouds exuded a destructive power which was probably rivalled by Ardyn's darkness only. There was no way he could just drag the Oracle out of there.

Luna turned her head towards Noctis, revealing black tears running down her cheeks. Her expression looked strangely unfocused as if a part of her mind was elsewhere. A misplaced smile spread on her face.
“Noctis,” she said with a distorted voice, “I am so glad I got to see you … just once more.”

Inside of the prince, fear and anger clashed. Utter helplessness overcame him and he abruptly turned back to Ardyn. “What the hell happened?” Noctis demanded to know, getting louder by the second.

The Chancellor spared him but a glance over his shoulder. “She took all of the Starscourge from Ifrit into herself.”

“But you said she couldn't do that!”

Ardyn whirled around, furious. “Well, guess what! I don't make these gods-forsaken rules!”

Despair added itself to the dreadful mix of emotions inside of Noctis. “Isn't there anything you can do?”

“I've told you before; I lost the ability to heal ages ago.”

“Have you actually tried since?” Noctis questioned him further, and Ardyn narrowed his gaze, directing some of his anger at the prince.

“Why, I never thought of it!” he exclaimed in an overly sarcastic manner and stepped towards Noctis with his hand outstretched and steaming darkness rising from it. “Here, why don't you let me lay my hands on you first?”

“Alright, I get it!”

The sounds of footsteps hurrying towards them interrupted Noctis' and Ardyn's shouting.

From a transport ship nearby, the white-clad High Commander came running straight towards Luna. He spared the Prince and the Chancellor nary a glance, so fixed was his gaze on the Oracle. His face bore the sternest expression Noctis had ever seen.

“Sister!” Ravus cried out.

Ardyn watched him run past. “Another lamb eager to be slaughtered,” he said.

A sabre appeared in Ravus' hand from what looked to be an armiger of own. “Out of my way, weakling!”

Noctis stepped aside. Not because he trusted the High Commander, but because he radiated a fiery determination that could only mean one thing: Ravus believed he could save the tainted Oracle. From his time at Festala Manor, Noctis remembered little about Luna's brother, except that he never got along with him, and Ardyn had not painted him in an any more flattering light, either. Still, if there existed just one thing Noctis and Ravus could agree on, it was Luna's well-being.

Ravus stopped abruptly in front of the swirling mass of dark energy, raised his hand, and a glaringly bright light shone from the Ring of the Lucii. There was neither hesitation nor uncertainty in his movements. It seemed he had practised this magic before. “Fear not, sister, I will cleanse you of this darkness! Even if it kills the both of us.”

The light extended further until it drove the dark clouds apart. Increasingly more miasma was detaching itself from the Oracle and gathering into a wildly moving mass behind her. Luna winced under the brightness. Powerless as she was, she could only try and fail to shield herself.

Meanwhile, beads of sweat formed on Ravus' forehead. Considering that he had contained a raging sea goddess in a magical goldfish bowl up until a few minutes ago, he was still looking fairly well, however.

At first, Noctis had been astonished to see Ravus use his father's ring with such ease, but the more darkness gathered, the more he was starting to worry whether he was not simply moving the problem instead of solving it. Even so, things appeared to be going to plan, up until the second purple flames erupted from the Ring of the Lucii. In a knee-jerk response, the High Commander drew his hand back and the light died almost instantly.

At the same time, Luna fainted.

“Don't you reject me now!” Ravus yelled in between groans of pain. “I was deemed worthy by the Draconian himself!”

With the purifying light gone, the miasma quickly began to reattach itself to the Oracle.

“What's the matter? Get it back under control!” Noctis shouted.

The High Commander shot him a deadly glare, but was too preoccupied fighting the pain to come back with a snappy reply. Despite the strain, he tried to cast the spell again, but the flames spread onto his arm. Clutching his burning fist with his unscathed hand, Ravus fell onto a knee. “Don't!” he uttered out of gritted teeth. “Let me save my sister!”

At this rate, Luna was merely seconds away from becoming fully possessed by the Starscourge. The nightmare Noctis had back at Lestallum was about to become reality, right in front of his eyes. His heart was beating frantically. He could not let her turn into a daemon.

Just then, a few stray miasma particles drifted past him and over to Ardyn. They disappeared, having seemingly merged into his form. The Chancellor looked to be just as surprised by the strength of his gravitational pull on the dark matter as was Noctis. Their gazes met, and judging by Ardyn's expression, the same realisation dawned on them both. There was no arguing between them, not even a word, just a silent agreement to save the Oracle.

Noctis ran up to Ravus. “Give me the ring!” he ordered him.

Although the magic of the Lucii continued to burn through his flesh, Ravus was still trying to will the light back into existence. “No, I must save her!”

“And I will save her!” Noctis claimed. “The Lucii can't deny me their power, because I am of their bloodline!”

Ravus shifted his glare from Noctis to Ardyn. “You conspire with a traitor. You have defied fate.”

“We've got no time to argue, dammit!”

Begrudgingly, Ravus ripped the ring of his finger and tossed it to Noctis' feet. The flames died instantly. He slumped back, relieved of the pain, and Noctis swiftly picked up the piece of jewelry.

In the meantime, Ardyn walked past Luna to reposition himself at the other end of the altar's remains. What little leftover miasma still hung in the air disappeared into him in passing. “I would appreciate it if you managed to direct the light only at her and not at the both of us,” he said.

“Anything else?” Noctis mockingly asked in reply as he prepared himself to put on the ring.

A sinister smile spread on Ardyn's face. “Tell my loathsome brother I sent my best regards.”

The moment the ring slid into place on Noctis' finger, his body was flooded with a magic not his own. From being around the Crystal in the past, he instantly recognised it as the age old forces of the sacred stone. They were very similar to the Lucis Caelum magic in nature, but stronger, and much more complex. Noctis was grateful he did not need to face the fabled trial of his ancestors in order to be deemed worthy to use it. Every kind of magic within the ring was immediately at his disposal.
Reaching out, Noctis brought back the light stronger and steadier than before. He barely even felt the ring draining his life force. More of that unfamiliar magic flowed through him. He was vaguely away that beyond the glare, and beyond Luna, Ardyn was equally shielding himself from the light and collecting the miasma that rose from the Oracle.

Then came the whispers. Faint voices just at the edge of Noctis' perception. The longer he kept the spell going, the louder and clearer they became. Eventually, one voice stood out above all others.

“I am glad that the ring has finally found its way into your hands.”

It sounded oddly familiar, but neither a name nor a face came to his mind.

“You know, Noctis, I did not wish for you to be replaced.”

He thought he saw a ghostly reflection of himself out of the corner of his eye. A version of him that was slightly older and taller, wearing a cape and robes.

Somnus!

His ancestor's name reverberated through his thoughts as if he had shouted it in surprise. When he turned his head, there was no one there.
“Shut up”, Noctis hissed. “I don't want your guidance.”

“And yet you have allowed my brother to guide you all the way here.” There was an audible sigh nearby, as if Somnus was standing beside him. “I understand that Ardyn wasted no time bad-mouthing me, but all this deep-rooted hatred stems from the Starscourge he collected. If you were to lend me your ear, Noctis, you would find that I am not half the tyrant he made me out to be. Our goals are not so different, even.”

“You are an arsonist, a cold-blooded murderer and you founded Lucis upon a lie.”

“Is that what Ardyn told you?” Somnus asked.

“It's what he showed me,” Noctis replied.

“Did you not know that the scourge has addled his mind and twisted his memories? I assure you, I had good reasons to act like I did, even if it does not appear that way from his point of view.”

“So you're not denying your crimes?”

“My crimes lie in the past. My brother is, unfortunately, a problem of the present and you would do well to take it seriously. He keeps telling himself he can take on the Starscourge and remain unaffected, but in the end, he is lying. If you do not believe me, see for yourself.”

The ring's light dimmed and Noctis was able to look past it to Luna and Ardyn. The first thing he noted was that the miasma no longer came off of her in great clouds, but in small streams. If they kept this up, they had Luna cured completely in just a few moments.

Yet while her state was rapidly improving, Ardyn's was not. Although the excess miasma was still being absorbed into his form, it left small black splotches that took a few seconds to disappear. With a look of horror on his face, he stared at Luna's unmoving form, then shook his head as if trying to rid his mind of a frightful image. The next time his gaze focused, he was looking Noctis straight in the eye. Hatred was etched across his face. His hand shot forward, and with it, a spectral blade which pierced Noctis' chest.

“You! You just had to interfere, didn't you?”

The red glowing sword struck Noctis' soul rather than his body. It hurt all the same, sending him stumbling back. Due to his concentration having been broken, the ring's light faded. “What the hell, Ardyn!?” Noctis spat out.

“Why are you stopping?”, Ravus shouted from behind. “You were almost done!”

“Did the old dragon forbid you to let this Oracle live, or do you simply enjoy striking them down and placing the blame on me?” Ardyn said, his intense glare not straying from Noctis. The Founder King's sword materialised in his hand and Noctis realised who he was talking to.

“He can see you,” he said to Somnus' spirit.

“Unlikely,” the voice of his ancestor replied. “If I was to appear, it would take more of your strength than you currently have. But with so much darkness clouding his view, I may assume he is having difficulties discerning you from me. Our likeness is indeed remarkable.”

Ardyn lunged for a warp-strike. In the nick of time, Noctis phased out of the way and called the Engine Blade to him just as Ardyn brought the long sword around for a follow-up hit. He blocked the strike, but was forced back by the strength of the blow. “Snap out of it, man! It's me, Noctis, remember?”

“Don't try to fool me!” Steaming darkness rose from Ardyn. His magic gathered for the next attack.

“Listen,” Somnus whispered into Noctis' ear. “I warned the world of the Adagium for a reason. Don't be so foolish to feel sympathy for him. His only hope for salvation lies in the fulfilment of your destiny. Draw upon the ring's power and I will help you put him to rest.”

The last of his words barely reached Noctis' mind. He was too preoccupied deflecting another strike from Ardyn. The next time he brought his sword up, a light flashed from the ring on his hand, his opponent burst into a cloud of miasma and reassembled on the street beyond Ravus.
Without asking for it, the magic from his ancestors flowed into Noctis. Their Royal Arms unleashed themselves from his armiger seemingly on their own.

Grinning madly, Ardyn threw open his arms and brought forth a copy of the exact same arsenal. No surprise there. They had been collecting Royal Arms together, after all. He hurled all of them at Noctis at once as though Ravus was not standing between them.

Two of the weapons were blocked by the High Commander, the rest Noctis stopped using his own arsenal.

Ravus moved back until he was at Noctis' side to seemingly create a line of defence in front of the Oracle. “Would you care to explain what's going on?”, he hissed angrily. “I thought you cooperated with the prophesied bringer of the scourge.”

“So did I!”

“We need to get him away from Luna.”

“Not gonna argue on that.”

There was a pull on Noctis' magic – which was not even his own magic to begin with – and all of a sudden, he struggled to keep the Royal Arms around himself. They were practically trying to throw themselves at Ardyn. Only one culprit came to Noctis' mind.
Cut it out, Somnus, he demanded in his thoughts. You're making this worse!

“I only aim to support you. Why do you struggle so much?”

That was it. Noctis had enough of being manipulated left and right and getting caught up in this asinine feud between the brothers.

“Noctis, wait! Listen! You …”

He tore the ring off his finger, silencing Somnus. The deprivation of the ring's magic, however, hit Noctis like a rock to the head. The Royal Arms shattered. He doubled over. Stasis, again. He cursed himself for having forgotten just how little of his own magic he had left.

Ardyn snapped his fingers.

With presence of mind, Ravus grabbed Noctis by his collar and pulled him aside so that the dark whirlwind of magic narrowly missed the two of them.
“Why did you take off the ring, you idiot?”

“Founder King won't shut up,” Noctis brought out. “I can't fight Ardyn like this!”

His hold on the ring of the Lucii was too weak to prevent Ravus from taking it back. “Someone's got to put a stop to him,” he stated. “If you are too weak to fight, then take care of my sister at least.”

The High Commander put the accessory onto his unscathed hand. To Noctis' surprise, he was not rejected again.

Without hesitation, Ardyn threw an onslaught of spectral blades at him. Ravus defended himself by summoning a shield out of white glowing great swords. These otherworldly arms exuded a sacred aura as though the Draconian himself had bestowed them upon Ravus just for fighting the Accursed.

As soon as Ardyn had run out of either spectral weapons or the magic needed to command them, Ravus retaliated. He sent Bahamut's swords back at him in rapid succession, only waiting long enough for Ardyn to dodge one before forcing him further back with another. In a matter of seconds, he landed a hit. One of the blessed swords pierced Ardyn's leg, sending him stumbling backwards. The blade restricted his movements, but with a bit of effort, he took a step forward again and the sword shattered.

In terms of defence, the Chancellor had very little to offer besides making himself difficult to hit. From what Noctis had seen, he mostly relied on his immortality to last him through a fight. Ravus could not possibly know this much about his fighting style and yet he appeared to be fully aware of Ardyn's tricks and abilities, like that dark tornado he had saved Noctis from. The High Commander marched forwards, continuing his assault on Ardyn, and eventually drove him far enough back to create an escape route for Noctis and Luna behind himself.

Overhead, a newly arrived fleet of Imperial airships moved towards the altar.

Noctis hurried to Luna's side. She was in no worse shape than when she fell unconscious earlier, looking pale and dishevelled. At the very least, there were no more obvious signs of the scourge. Noctis knelt down, lifted her into his arms and, by summoning all of his remaining strength, rose back to his feet. The old back injury flared up again. His knees were shaking from the effort to stay upright. On top of everything, the stasis was still refusing to wear off.

With the Oracle in his arms, Noctis dropped back to his knees.

“Noooct!” “Hey, Noct!”

Familiar voices shouting his name reached his ears.

From the undamaged part of the city, Prompto, Ignis and Gladio came running towards the altar. Upon seeing Ravus and Ardyn fight, Gladio quickly put up his shield and blocked one of their misguided translucent blades to secure the others a way to and from the altar.

Ignis was the first to reach Noctis and Luna.

“We've got to move,” he urged him. “This place will be swarming with MTs any minute now.”

“Can you carry Luna?” Noctis asked with strained breath.

Ignis took the Oracle from his arms. “Prompto!”

“On it!”

Noct's friend came to a skidding halt next to him. He offered Noctis a hand, while Ignis began to make his way away from the altar as fast as possible. At first, Noctis grabbed Prompto's hand only to get up, determined to walk on his own, but with the pain and the stasis weighing him down, it was getting more difficult to move by the second. Seeing his plight, Prompto simply pulled Noctis' arm around his shoulder and dragged him along. Noctis was not going to complain.

As they escaped, Noctis cast a glance back and saw Ravus land another hit on Ardyn.

Some part of Noctis still hoped that the Chancellor would come to his senses, disappear in a cloud of miasma like he had so many times before, and reappear one or two days later, standing in a random doorway with the same old smug expression on his face.

This hope dispersed in an instant when Ravus struck Ardyn with several more blades at the same time. The force of the sudden impact knocked him off his feet and the Blade of the Mystic was flung from his hand. It skidded over the street to where Gladio stood keeping Noctis and the others safe during their retreat. On the very edge of his magical perception, Noctis noticed Gladio shoving Somnus' sword into his armiger.

Ardyn moved slow and sluggish. It looked to be very unlikely he was going to stand back up. Immaterial blades had pierced his limbs and one shoulder. Around the open wounds, clouds of miasma pooled, obviously trying and failing to close them.

There was a moment of reprieve between the combatants and Gladio took the opportunity to catch up with Noctis and the others. When Prompto dragged the Prince around the corner of a building, the altar, the fight, and the Imperial airships all disappeared from his view, and quite frankly, Noctis was getting too exhausted to care about what happened to them.

#-#-#

This day had been full of unexpected turns. First, the news of the Chancellor's treason, then Ravus' summoning of the Wall around Leviathan – something he had not wanted to do, but ultimately had because he could not deny Luna her request – then the appearance of Ifrit followed by Luna nearly sacrificing herself to the fire god. And as if that had not been enough, Ravus had only just left his sister in the care of the blasphemous Prince of Lucis and was now fighting the darkness personified, who just so happened to be the aforementioned treacherous Chancellor.

Needless to say, after everything that had transpired, it did not surprise Ravus to see Izunia struggling back to his feet with great effort, despite the many sacred blades stuck firmly in his limbs and darkness oozing out of his wounds.

Ravus waited to see what he intended to do. In this state, his only option was to surrender. An open acknowledgement of his defeat would be most welcome by Ravus. He had longed to wipe that smug expression off his face for a long time.

The former Chancellor straightened himself again, closed his eyes and with a seemingly content smile held out a hand in the same casual manner Ravus had seen the prince and his retainers call forth their arms many times before.

Defiant until the end. Ravus quickly flung another blade at him and struck him in the chest, dead-centre.

As Izunia fell over backwards, his hat, which had only just appeared in a red glow of magic, dropped down next to him.

An angry huff escaped Ravus.
Not defiant. Deceptive. Even in his defeat, the Chancellor had still found a way to fool him.

Minister Besithia's fleet eventually arrived, the backup Ravus had neither requested nor wanted. Accompanied by the latest models of magitek assassins and riflemen, the head of the magiteknological research himself entered the scene of the recently fought battle. Ravus walked over to where the unmoving soon-to-be-ex-Chancellor lay and secretly removed the ring of the Lucii from his hand. The ring's magic could easily devour him whole if the souls of the kings desired it, this much had become clear to him. Blessed though he may be, he was no true replacement for the Chosen King if the Lucii did not allow it. This realisation had given him much to think about.

The old minister walked up to Ravus, greeting him with a sneer. “So it appears you are still of some use to the Empire after all. I will have to thank you for capturing this insurgent fraud.”

At his signal, more magitek soldiers moved in to pick up the unconscious man and carry him away.

“I highly suggest that you accompany me back to Gralea, High Commander. Emperor Aldercapt wishes to talk to you in person.”

Chapter Text

Emperor Ideolas Aldercapt released a press statement earlier today saying that the Niflheim Chancellor, Ardyn Izunia, has been executed this morning on the grounds of various acts of high treason. His crimes were listed as fraternization with the enemy, sabotage, espionage and the intentional spread of misinformation. These news fall in line with rumours of the Chancellor's sudden resignation we picked up a week ago. Further reports claim that he has conspired with Lucis for weeks, if not months, prior to his arrest. This marks the abrupt end of several decades of Ardyn Izunia's service to the Empire as Aldercapt's right-hand man and his contributions to the magiteknological research of Minister Besithia.

Only the monotone voice of the news reporter pierced the heavy silence in the guest room of the Altissian government residence. After having turned on the radio on the cupboard, Gladio dropped back into the lounge chair next to the one Prompto was sitting in. There was a twinge in Prompto's heart upon hearing of the Chancellor's fate. Perhaps the others thought differently, but he had begun to consider Ardyn a friend sometime after he had saved him from being torn to shreds by that one-eyed Behemoth.

“So, they, uhm … They killed Ardyn already?” Prompto hardly dared to say it.

Gladio appeared to be unfazed by the news. “Don't believe everything they say,” he said and crossed his arms. “You know he's not that easy to kill. Besides, even if they found a way to relieve him of his immortality, they'd probably do him a favour.”

“Don't say something like that! He's still got a lot to live for I bet.”

“You never sparred with him. The man has a death wish, I tell ya.”

Ardyn, suicidal? No way. Not him, out of all people. Prompto refused to believe it, and yet … The mere thought that Ardyn might just give up on everything they had achieved so far added to his worries. Agitated, he got up from his chair and began to pace around the room. “Ok, so what are we going to do, now that he's no longer around to guide us?”

“The choice is up to Noct, like it should have been from the very beginning. But I don't know where we might be headed next, either. Best ask Iggy about it.”

“Yeah, I will.” With a nod, Prompto walked to the door that led to the adjacent bedroom, where he had last seen Ignis keeping watch over the sleeping prince. He halted once more before stepping through the doorway to listen to the rest of the news report.

In other news, first secretary Camelia Claustra expressed her relief that both the Oracle and prince Noctis of Lucis have made it through the Tidemother's fit of anger unharmed. Thanks to them being alive and well, we have much reason to hope for a bright and peaceful future, she claimed. Miss Claustra also praised Imperial High Commander Ravus Nox Fleuret's efforts to keep the structural damages to Altissia to a minimum. Nevertheless, the Empire has suffered great losses in the battle, and we have yet to receive an official statement from Niflheim regarding the High Commander's actions.

Contrary to Prompto's expectations, neither Noct nor Iggy were present next door. The impressive double bed Noctis should be resting in was empty, its cover lay neatly folded on top.

“Noct?” he asked into the room. Pointless though it might be, perhaps someone answered.

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder. Startled, Prompto jerked around, but relaxed again at the sight of a familiar face. “Oh, it's you.”

“Come,” Ignis said.

Iggy led him out and into the guest room on the other side of the corridor, which was equal in size and furnishings to Noct's, but had been given to Lady Lunafreya instead. The Oracle was sleeping soundly and did not even stir at the noise of Ignis and Prompto entering the room. Only Tiny - well, Pryna– who laid near Luna's feet on top of the bed, raised her head. The little white dog sure had grown in the past years.

In the chair at Luna's bedside sat the missing prince with his elbow up on the armrest and his head propped onto his hand. Despite his thoughtful appearance, he too, was fast asleep. Umbra had joined him to rest at his feet.

It was a sight begging to be captured. The Oracle and the Prince, battered, exhausted, but together at last.

Prompto took out his camera.

“No flashlight,” Ignis instructed him quietly.

“Got it.”

The camera gave off a quiet click as he snapped a picture. Even with her hair undone and the plaster on her cheek, Luna exuded grace. There was something mystical and divine about her that made Prompto feel undeserving of her presence. It reminded him of the time Noct had granted him access to his armiger. Being able to pull stuff out of thin air used to be so awe-inspiring. It had been a privilege to use such incredible magic. Prompto had vowed to treat it with respect and only use it to store his firearms.
That vow had lasted … about three days? Give or take one. Seriously, having your own pocket dimension was just too practical to keep running back to the Regalia's trunk for every little thing. It made Prompto wonder whether that air of mystic and divine about Luna would fade over time, too.

“How is she?”

“The physician said there are still traces of the scourge left, but it appears the disease is not progressing.”

“That's good, right?”

“I think so ,yes. Apart from that, she and Noct have suffered nothing a decent amount of rest cannot fix.”

Prompto laughed. “Ha! Noct will be back on his feet in no time. He's, like, the king of naps!”

By the time Ignis hushed him, it was already too late. Lady Lunafreya came to, groaning.

Prompto clapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry! I didn't mean to wake you.”

She slowly sat up and pulled the bedcover a little closer.

“No, it is … quite alright,” she said. From the end of her bed, Pryna walked up to her, whining softly and wagging her tail. Umbra, too, had gotten up to place his chin on the edge of the mattress. Both dogs looked glad to see their owner awake and Luna pet their heads in greeting.

“We were just checking on Noctis,” Ignis explained, directing her attention to the prince at her bedside. She smiled at the sight of Noctis still sleeping despite their ongoing conversation.

“How are you feeling?” Ignis asked.

“I am much better already. Thank you for everything.”

He adjusted his glasses. “There is no need for thanks.”

“How are the others?” Luna continued.

“From what I've seen, Lord Ravus has left Altissia along with the remaining Imperial troops shortly after we've brought you to safety. They appeared to be headed towards Gralea.”

“I see. What about the Chancellor?”

“The Empire has captured him, although it might be best Noct told you how it came to that.”

“Sheesh! Just five more minutes, Iggy,” Noctis grumbled, still half-asleep. He swayed his head from one side of the chair's backrest to the other and lazily opened an eye.

“My apologies,” Ignis said, but Prompto, and Noct, probably, too, knew he did not mean it.

Once Noctis had managed to sit up straight, his gaze wandered over to Luna, and the grumpy expression immediately fell from his face. “Luna …” He clearly struggled to find something to say. A blush crept onto his cheeks, much to her amusement.

“Still such a sleepy-head, are you?” she said with a chuckle in her voice.

“Are you okay?”

“If it was not for you, I might not be alive any more.”

“Ah, well …” Trying and failing to meet her eyes, he sheepishly rubbed his neck. “Thanks, but … You know, it was a combined effort. Ravus kind of started it, Ardyn kept the Starscourge from flowing back into you and everyone else helped us escape from the battlefield.”

She nodded politely. “And I am grateful to all of you.”

“We were just talking about what happened to Ardyn,” Ignis explained. “Perhaps you could shed some light on the matter?”

“It was the Founder King's fault, I think. I don't know exactly why or how, but Ardyn saw him and flipped, and then Somnus tried to manipulate me into fighting him.”

Prompto crossed his arms. “Can't leave those two in a room together, huh?”

“I am afraid I do not understand what this is about,” Luna said.

“Did Ardyn not tell you everything?”

“He told me a lot, but everything is a pretty big word, Noctis.”

“Sorry. I meant; Did he not tell you he is the elder brother of the Founder King?”

In response, Luna shook her head. Considering Noctis just told her someone from the founding era was still alive 2000 years later, she looked pretty unimpressed. Tales of the supernatural had to be pretty commonplace when you were as close to the gods as the Oracle.

“He used to have healing powers not entirely unlike yours,” Noctis continued, “but his brother had him branded a monster and hunted down for absorbing the Starscourge. Their feud only got worse from there.”

“So that explains why he thought I might turn out like him.”

“Ravus eventually pinned him down, and then the Empire moved in,” Noctis finished his retelling.

Just then, Prompto remembered what he had been trying to tell Iggy this entire time. “There was a news report on the radio just now. They were saying Ardyn had been executed.”

For a moment, the room fell silent. Luna lowered her gaze, looking concerned, whereas Noctis stared at him in disbelief. “They wouldn't do that, right? He's been invaluable to the Empire for decades.”

“Given his unique condition, I don't think they were able to execute him,” Ignis replied.

“Gladio said that, too.”

“I may assume the Empire is trying to remedy some of the damages Ardyn's unofficial resignation has caused by releasing this press statement. They will most likely keep him immobilized and locked up if they cannot dispose of him.”

“So, this means we could just go and bust him out, right?” Prompto asked, feeling hope blossom in his chest.

A thoughtful look formed on the prince's face.

“Noct, before you consider this option,” Ignis intervened, “remember there is no reason to act in Ardyn's favour. He is no longer around to nudge you into whichever direction he thought was best. From here on out, your decisions are your own.”

“What other option have we got?” Noctis asked.

“I'd say we could just as well return to Lucis and prepare to take back Insomnia, or march onto Gralea. Ardyn's arrest and Ravus' dubious allegiance, as well as the military losses during the fight against Leviathan, have weakened the Empire considerably.”

The hope Prompto had felt earlier faded when Noctis turned his attention to Luna. He was not just going to ignore a friend's plight, was he? The Empire could have captured any of them. In fact, if Caligo was to be believed, he had captured Valyria already. Or killed her, which seemed more likely, but that was another thing Prompto did not want to think about.

“Say, what more do I need to acquire this power to surpass the gods and banish the dark?”

“The prophecy speaks of the sacred ring and the light of the Crystal,” she dutifully answered.

“No offence, but I'm not keen on wearing that ring again. It's caused too much harm to my family already, and I don't want the Crystal's light, either, if it means leaving Eos in darkness for ten years or so. Let's get Ardyn back. I'd rather rely on him and his darkness than listen to Somnus again.”

“Yes!” Prompto rejoiced.

“I must warn you, though,” Ignis said. “There is no guarantee Ardyn will have recovered from what happened in Altissia. He might still turn hostile toward you.”

“Then we'll deal with that when we get to it,” Noctis argued so firmly and with such confidence, Prompto actually thought his friend was growing into the role of a regent.

“Very well,” Ignis relented. “In this case I shall try to contact Aranea to help us figure out where they might have brought him and how to get there undetected.” He turned to leave and apparently Noctis took this as a sign to get going as well.

“We really should let you rest,” he said to Luna, rose from his chair and bowed awkwardly. “Sorry for disturbing you like that. I should not have entered unasked.”

His unusual display of politeness brought a smile back to her face. “It's alright, Noctis. I did not mind your presence. Please stay if you like.” Her gaze wandered over to the red notebook lying on the nightstand. “It has been so long since we last spoke. We could take a trip down memory lane and fill in the gaps in between the pages.”

“I'd love that, actually,” Noct admitted, looking somewhat sheepish. He sunk back onto the chair as Ignis pushed Prompto towards the door.

“But, uhm …” Prompto meekly protested. So, right; It was not in his place to listen in, but unless Ramuh struck him down now, he was sure to die of curiosity! That awkward ship right there? He had to watch sail!

#-#-#

When he regained his conscience, Ardyn was greeted by a most familiar darkness. It was the black backdrop in front of which his Starscourge-addled mind had staged many a play during the two-thousand years of his imprisonment at Angelgard. Not all of them had been unpleasant, however. Like the figurative angel and devil on one's shoulder, there had always been two key actors in his hallucinations and nightmares: Aera, who provided comfort, warmth and hope, and Somnus, who crushed all of the above.

Thankfully, neither of them were present. Not yet, anyway. Imaginary though they might be, Ardyn did not want them to see him defeated, stretched out on a metal table with white translucent blades keeping his limbs numb and unresponsive. Billows of miasma bled from him, slowly drifting upwards and disappearing.

He felt raw, less like a man and more like a piece of meat cut from a man, exposed and bleeding. His worst emotions laid bare for the world to see. Looking back on it, he should have known better than to assume he could take on so much miasma, along with all the memories and feelings that came with it, and not lose himself in them. He remembered times when he wandered the world to spread the scourge, daemonifying so many innocents that he would wake up the next day, thinking he was late for work before realizing he had mistaken someone else's identity in his head for his own.

Even now, he could feel the miasma from the Infernian and Lady Lunafreya still trying to find its place in the make-up of his body.

Fragments of the Oracle's past played before Ardyn's eyes. The death of her mother at the hands of General Glauca, her brother's pain, King Regis' escape with the young Noctis, the imposing figure of the Niflheim Chancellor in front of the burning manor as Lunafreya and Ravus were taken away. Given some time, or a lot, perhaps, these memories would fade, but until then being able to remember two versions of the same event was endlessly confusing.

Thinking of it, the day the manor burned had been when he had really begun to stray from his fate.

“Oh, but what does it matter?” Ardyn muttered to himself and sighed. “Has it mattered at all?”

Bahamut surely had allowed him free rein for a very long time, but perhaps there had been an inkling of truth to the Draconian's threats. Perhaps there was no escaping fate, after all. He had tried to save the Oracle and failed.

Somnus had materialised just like he had in his fight against Ravus and killed the Oracle. Except, on second thought, he had not. In hindsight, Ardyn was fairly certain this Somnus had been but another hallucination. At least, it would explain why he remembered so very little of what had happened afterwards, apart from all-consuming hatred fuelled by fresh miasma and Somnus' mocking laugh ringing in his ears. It was probably for the best he did not know who he had truly fought. All that mattered in the end was that he had fallen back into the role of the villain. Again.

Well. Playing the hero's guide had been fun while it lasted. Ardyn chuckled to himself in desperation. All those everyday niceties the prince and his friends had extended to him had almost made him feel like a decent and – dare he think it? - caring person again. Their gratitude, the meals they shared, their unspoken consideration for his sensitivity to sunlight. Oh, should his thoughts get any more sentimental, he was going to make himself sick. Submitting to fate seemed so easy, enticing even, but the very idea of giving up everything he had worked towards tore him in two. Those conflicting emotions pained Ardyn far more than the blades running through him.

A golden light shone in the corner of his eyes.

He turned his head – due to the swords, there was little more of his body he could move – to see the ghostly form of the First Oracle approaching him. With her white robes and golden hair, she almost seemed to glow in the darkness.

“It has been a while, Aera.”

“It has.” She smiled softly. “This is a good sign. It shows how much your mind has improved.”

“Tell me, have I strayed too far? Did I long for too much?”

His fiancée knelt down beside him, leaned onto the table and lowered her head onto her hands until she was almost at eye level with him. “There is nothing wrong in longing for affection and praise, silly. It only shows you are human.”

“Humans do not bleed black, I am afraid,” he argued.

“I never thought of you as a man who would let the colour of his blood define who he is. You have defied fate for so long. Why submit to it now?”

“Perhaps it has escaped you, but any good I do ends in disaster. Here I am, bound once again with only the ghosts of my past for company. What could I possibly do in this state but accept my defeat?”

Aera brushed a loose strand of hair out of his eyes. “Have a little more faith in the prince. You might have inspired him to follow your example more than you think.”

She truly must be a figment of his imagination, to utter such nonsense.

“He will not come for me,” Ardyn claimed and closed his eyes. “He now has the Infernian and the Oracle at his side. Even if he continues to tread the path I laid out for him, he does not need me to take the fight to the Bladekeeper.”

“The boy has grown on you,” she noted, smiling.

“Hardly. He is a means to an end.”

It was a blatant lie, of course. He had no intention of ever admitting it, no matter how pointless it was trying to fool what was essentially a part of his own mind. Over the course of their travels, Ardyn had come to appreciate the ways in which Noctis was different from his once-young and innocent brother. Endlessly naive, but sympathetic and considerate, as well as blessed with the ability to rise to the challenges he was presented with. He also took on Ardyn's tutoring quickly, which was an added bonus. Perhaps Ardyn should change the name of the contact in his phone from “Regis' stupid kid” to something less insulting. Then again, it still got a chuckle out of him just thinking of it.

Aera pushed herself back up from the table's edge. “He still might choose to save you,” she whispered.

When her otherworldly glow faded, she left him with a flicker of hope in his chest. A mere spark, whose light was swallowed by the all-encompassing darkness all too quickly. He did not deserve to be saved. In light of all the lives he had taken, Noctis would do best to let him rot. The crimes of Lucis' worst enemy could not be forgiven, and Ardyn had stopped pleading for forgiveness decades ago. He was beyond redemption.

#-#-#

The Magna Fortia was an impressive example of Imperial engineering, even Noctis would say that much. Be it because it was actually impressive or simply because Lucis did not have a railway system, let alone a train as big as this one. They had booked second class, which meant the seats were plain and somewhat uncomfortable, but the view easily compensated for any small amount of discomfort. At first glance, Cartanica was scenically about as interesting as Leide, a dry wasteland filled with ghost towns and industrial ruins. Still, Noctis could watch the landscape fly by for hours. Luna, who sat opposite of him, was also staring absent-mindedly out of the window.

Being in his childhood friend's presence still made Noctis nervous to some degree. He could not even quite tell why. Perhaps those unspoken expectations were to blame. He had been looking forward to their reunion for a very long time, independent of whether they were to be wedded or not. To him, Luna was everything he had hoped she would be after all those years and more, but he did not know whether she felt the same or whether she had expected more of him. He did not even dare touch the subject of their arranged marriage. Apparently she had known from the very beginning that the arrangement had been a mere excuse to get them both out on the road and out of the Empire's reach before Insomnia's fall. Which was not to say that perhaps she had hoped for the marriage to come to pass, after all. Sheesh, why was this so complicated?

Talking to Luna was so easy, almost like old times. But thinking about her had him all tied up in knots.

“Are you looking forward to return to Tenebrae?” Noctis eventually asked her to stifle the thoughts running through his head.

She nodded. “I would have preferred to accompany you to Niflheim, however.”

“I know, but I can't have you do all this infiltration and survival stuff we do. If this goes awry, we'll have to fight our way through half of the Empire's state-of-the-art infantry and you barely escaped the battle at Altissia alive.”

“I just want you to be safe” was what he really wanted to say, but the words would not come. From what he had seen he knew she was ready and willing to give her life for their cause. Clearly, she did not care about her own safety as much as his and no amount of persuasion could change that.

“If I may.” Ignis moved over from the seats across the aisle to the empty spot next to Noctis. “Such a mission is best executed with a small and properly trained team. As glad as I am to expand our list of allies, our increase in numbers will grow into a problem if we wish to approach certain targets undetected.”

“I am aware of that,” Luna replied.

“Besides,” Noctis added, “I'll leave Gladio with you, so we have to meet again. And I can count on him to help you find me in case we don't make it back in time.”

“So you're giving me away as security?” Gladio asked from across the aisle.

Noctis put on a smug smile. “Hey, you're the best I got.”

“I hope that, when we meet again, I can tell you more about the Draconian,” Luna mentioned.

“Just try to avoid getting into fights with the Empire while you're in Tenebrae, alright? We can still figure out how to take down Bahamut once we got the Chancellor back on our team.”

“Ex-Chancellor,” Ignis corrected him. “He renounced his title in front of Miss Claustra and let her spread the news of his resignation.”

It struck Noctis as odd that Iggy knew so much more about it than he did. “When did that happen?”

“On the evening prior to your audience with her. I followed and questioned him about his meeting, but he asked me to keep quiet about it so as not to undermine your confidence.”

“How considerate of him,” Noctis scoffed.

“It was mostly a strategic move, to strengthen your position, weaken the Empire's influence and beat the Emperor to the presentation of Ardyn's treason all at the same time.”

“Now that sounds more like him.” Always one step ahead of everyone else, Noctis mused. Or so Ardyn had been, until Ravus had handed him to the Empire on a silver platter.

Ignis directed his gaze out of the window. “By the way, this train will stop at Fodina Caestino shortly. According to the information provided by Cor, there should be another Royal Tomb located within. Since this is Niff territory, however, it might have been plundered already.”

“We won't know unless we check it out, I guess” Noctis replied.

Ardyn doubtlessly could have told them all about it, if he had not obtained the image of the Royal Arm already, which then again only went to show how much Noctis had relied on him thus far. For better or for worse, he was intent to prove he could shape his own fate without anyone's guidance.

“Then we'll best have a look,” he decided.

“And I will come with you,” Luna stated. “If I remember correctly, the Empire has abandoned the quarry of Fodina Caestino a long time ago.”

Her resolve only added to Noctis' concern. “It will most likely be inhabited by monsters now,” he argued. “The terrain might be tough, too.” He failed to picture Luna, delicate, well-dressed Luna, trudging through knee-deep muddy waters, fighting slimy gigantoads or scaling rough walls.

She chuckled, appearing bemused by his worries. “I was there when Insomnia was invaded, you know? You will find that I can handle a little bit of danger just fine.”

Noctis felt the blood rush to his head. “I didn't mean it like that, I just …”

“I know, Noctis, I know,” Luna said and alleviated his nervousness in an instant. “But I'll be more useful healing the bloody scrapes of you and your friends than waiting for you in a run-down train station under the watch of the Empire.”

“The Lady has a point,” Ignis supported her.

“Right then. Come with us,” Noctis gave in. “But we'll stick to our original plan regarding the magitek production facility.”

She nodded. “Agreed.”

A tingle of anticipation ran through Noctis at the thought of Luna fighting alongside them with the power of light at her command. Her magic was nothing to scoff at, that much he knew. Perhaps he could imagine her in the depths of the quarry after all.

Noctis wondered what kind of Royal Arm they might find, so far away from Lucis, and, thinking of Royal Arms, there was one new addition to his armiger that made him feel uncomfortable just knowing it was there.

The Blade of the Mystic. Somnus' sword, robbed by Ardyn and taken by Gladio in an opportune moment during the battle at Altissia.

Now it was in Noctis' possession, but he had wanted it as much as he wanted the ring of the Lucii. In Ardyn's hand, the sword had been a tool to exert vengeance on the Founder King. In his own hand, Noctis was afraid to fall into the role of the Founder King. They already shared similar features. By wielding his blade and, in a way, associating himself with Somnus, he was bound to make himself an enemy of Ardyn, and rightly so.
Somnus had not even denied the atrocities he had committed.

Yet despite all this, the Blade of the Mystic was imbued with magic and strengthened Noctis' armiger considerably, more than the mere image of the weapon. Moreover, Ardyn had told him that his and his brother's swords were once a pair, which implied they had been meant to be used together.

Noctis directed his gaze back out of the window as he contemplated what hidden power this pair of sacred weapons might hold.

Chapter Text

There she was. The Oracle, standing at the edge of the train station, overlooking the abandoned Fodina Caestino quarry and the dry wasteland below and beyond.
She had taken the time to change into clothes more suitable for adventuring. A tight fitting pair of jeans, lace-up boots, a plain white shirt and a beige-coloured jacket. She even wore her hair open. Just a few changes, and suddenly anyone had to look twice to recognise her as the Oracle that had been shown on all over the media.

Noctis could not help but wonder about the way she stood there, with her face tilted up to the sky and her eyes closed, like a flower starved of sunlight.
“I didn't know you had taken to sunbathing,” he said, mostly just to break the silence.

She slowly opened her eyes. “I can still feel it.” Her voice came out barely above a whisper. Luna appeared to be talking to herself rather than him. “It is still there, but very faint now.”

“The scourge?” There was a twinge of hurt in Noctis' heart at the thought of Luna avoiding the sunlight in the same manner as Ardyn had. “What was it like?”

“Unpleasant, for the most part,” she said and turned to look at him. “The sunlight used to feel like pins and needles on my skin. I can't imagine what it's like for those who had it worse than me.”

“I'm sorry you had to go through that.”

Luna shook her head. “It was not your fault. I brought the Draconian's punishment onto myself when I lend my ear to the Accursed. Looking back on it now, I believe Bahamut's intervention was a sign that he is scared. Scared of mankind shaping their own future.”

“Ha! He better be scared, 'cuz we're coming for him.” Noctis crossed his arms and flashed her a smile, which caused Luna to laugh.

“Your confidence is admirable.”

Thinking of it, they did not have much else to go on, really. Hope and confidence kept them going.
Noctis felt the smile melt from his face. “I know it's not going to be easy,” he admitted. “But it's not like we have many options, either. We might die fighting the Draconian, but we'll surely die if we go through with the prophecy.” There was, of course, a third, but a lot less plausible option. “I don't think we can just ignore Bahamut and simply go on with our lives, can we?”

“If we don't face him, I'm afraid he will come for us,” Luna replied “, or worse, for the entirety of Eos. I am just glad that we have the majority of the Hexatheon on our side.”

“Lady Lunafreya.”

They turned around to the crowd that was about to board the next train. As the last people stepped into the carriage, only the High Messenger remained at the platform. Due to her black-and-white dress, Gentiana looked far more regal than any of the actual Royals at the train station. Despite of her unusual appearance, however, none of the passers-by seemed to notice her. Perhaps this was one of her powers as a messenger.

“I am glad to see you well, Gentiana,” Luna greeted her.

With grace and a benign smile on her lips, the High Messenger walked up to them. “The Lady is always so concerned about others, even at times she should be most concerned about herself. It is relieving to see that the King has freed her of her curse, for the most part.” She leaned forward, just barely indicating a bow before Noctis. It was in that instant that he decided it was perhaps better not to reiterate that Luna's rescue had been a team effort. If the gods wanted to see him as the saviour, let them, for as long as it kept them agreeable, at least.

“I come from the healers of men, bearing good news and a gift,” The High Messenger held out her hands to Luna, revealing a small glass vial between her palms.

“The healers of men?” Noctis wondered aloud.

“This is how Gentiana refers to the researchers who have taken up the task of developing a cure for the scourge,” Luna explained and took the glass vial before turning back to her familar. “Is this what I think it is?”

“The healers heard of the Oracle's affliction. They wish to aid the Lady, though they can only cure so many thus far.”

“I see.” Luna held the vial close to her chest, as if taking a moment to fully appreciate the gift. “They must have great faith in their progress to send me this.”

“Wow, I … Just wow.” Noctis found himself at a loss for words, if only temporarily. “Ardyn told me he had proof that the Starscourge could be treated medically, but I never imagined we were this close to mass-producing actual medicine.”

“Some years ago,” she explained “, the second or third time we spoke, he gave me a paper detailing a failed experiment concerning the Starscourge. Although he never said so, I think he did this because he knew I would ask the messengers to give it to the right people.”

It made a lot of sense. “So, just like Umbra helped us stay in touch without the Empire knowing about it …”

“I asked Gentiana to check on the researchers every once in a while. They are a small, but very dedicated team of knowledgeable people from Tenebrae, and since the messenger's movements could not be tracked by the Empire, I was able to provide them with information and funding. But these troubled times have been hard on them, ever since my departure. Minister Besithia raided their centre of research not too long ago. Fortunately, they were able to escape with most of their research in time, but had the First Secretary not taken them in, their progress would have been halted indefinitely.”

Noctis had a feeling that a number of puzzle pieces suddenly fell into place. “That didn't, by any chance, happen three to four weeks ago, did it?”

“I think so.” She looked him with a curious expression. “How do you know?”

“You remember what Iggy told us? A certain someone talked to the First Secretary before I had the chance, spreading information, sweetening the deal?”

“Yes, you're right. He's had a hand in everything, hasn't he?”

“And I still don't know if I should be glad, impressed, or worried about it,” Noctis admitted.

“Yo, you ready to leave for the quarry?” From the abandoned carriages serving as restaurant and lodgings, Gladio came walking up to them, with Ignis and Prompto in tow.

Somehow, Noctis must have been so absorbed in the conversation with Luna that he had failed to notice how Gentiana had vanished. He took a quick look around, but failed to spot her.

Next to him, Luna chuckled quietly. “Don't worry. She will return when she is needed.”

“No offence, but I don't think this party needed another member with that kind of attitude.”

“Looking good, m'lady,” Prompto greeted Luna as they all gathered at the train station's lookout.

“Thank you.”

Gladio crossed his arms and nodded into the direction of the quarry below. “We headin' out or what?”

Seeing how they had planned to be back before nightfall, it really was about time they got going. Noon was fast approaching and who knew what troubles they encountered in the depths of the quarry. If Noctis had learned one thing about his ancestor's tombs than that there was something big and nasty waiting in front of them more often than not.

He took the lead towards the elevator. “Yep, let's go,” he said, beckoning the rest to follow.

There was not much to be expected from a quarry, scenery-wise. In its middle stood the monstrous piece of machinery with which the Niffs had dug this crater into the earth to plunder its resources. A tree of equally impressive size had since grown right next to it, and its roots connected certain parts of the quarry like natural bridges.
That did not mean that the terrain was any less unpleasant than expected. Years of rain had created pools of water on all levels of the quarry. Knee-deep, muddy waters. The perfect home for the local cousins of the Lucian Sahagin and Gigantoad, as well as plenty of other, water-loving monsters.

Luna never complained, not about the steep descent into the pit, nor the mud or the monsters. Although Noctis kept an eye out for her, she did fine without his help. She had no trouble to keep up with him and his retinue, in or outside of battles. He had given her access to his armiger, and thus, they shared the Trident of the Oracle and its magic.
Unlike him, Luna wielded the power of light in a much purer form. She did not have to stab a monster to death with the Trident, as Noctis probably would have done. From a safe distance, she summoned pillars of golden light, seemingly by invoking the gods' blessing through prayer and channelling it through the Royal Arm. The sight was awe-inspiring, even to him.

“Wait up, Noct!”

They had searched about half of the quarry when Noctis heard Gladio calling out for him.

His Shield nodded down the slope. “Prompto's falling behind.”

And he was right. Prompto had fallen behind. He was dragging himself uphill with some effort.

Upon noticing, Luna turned back to offer the gunner a hand, but Prompto refused.

“I'm sorry, I really don't mean to hold you guys up,” he said meekly, “but, uhm, I kinda skipped breakfast, and …”

“It turned out that wasn't such a good idea?” Ignis asked, giving him a criticising look.

“Let us rest for a while,” Luna suggested and looked from Prompto to Noctis. “I could take a break, too. There should be an old haven nearby, where we can sit safely for a moment.”

Indeed, the rocks a little further up the incline showed the typical markings of a haven. Funny how much time had passed since they last set up camp at one. In a way, Noctis had even stopped considering it. “I got no objections. Let's make it a lunch break.”

They did not take the time to set up full camp, seeing how the train station was only a short walk away and they were not planning to stay the night, but they did set up the chairs and cooking table. Ignis prepared Croque Madame for them, something a bit “lighter” than usual, since some of them actually had breakfast that morning.

Once she was finished, Luna left their little circle to kneel by the edge of the haven and pray in silence.

It was a strange sight to Noctis. He had never been religious, possibly because he always had the right intuition about Bahamut from seeing his father suffer the side-effects of his gods-given gifts. And knowing what had happened to Luna and Ardyn despite of – or rather, because of – their faith, did not give him much reason to trust the Astrals, either. Still, he knew that Luna could talk to them, and that it probably made a world of difference whether she addressed the Draconian or any other Astral. From what he had seen, Titan appeared to be good-natured at his core, Ramuh was nothing but benevolent. Leviathan had been a bitch, all right, but it seemed unlikely that she was going to act up again. Ifrit was clearly not dead, which was all Noctis could say for certain about the fire god. And Shiva … Well, if Ifrit was alive, then maybe Shiva was too.

“Whoa, look!”

Prompto's voice called him back to reality. His high school friend pointed at the runes to their feet. They were usually dormant during daytime, but shone, right before their eyes, with a blueish glow from deep within.

“A true miracle worker,” Ignis said.

“You'd expect nothing less from the Oracle,” Gladio added.

Noctis got up from his chair. “Give her a break, Gladio. It's bad enough that I've got to live up to everyone's expectations all the time.”

“You know you could do better.”

“Tsk.”

Noctis saw Luna stagger to her feet and rushed over to help her. She looked more worn after their break than before. “Thanks, Noct. This, I … It was something I wanted to do for myself, just for once. My mother, she used to go on pilgrimages all over Eos to restore the sacred power of the havens. Ravus and I would listen to the stories of her travels when she tucked us into bed. I always wanted to follow in her footsteps, but the Empire would only ever let me travel so far.”

“When all of this is over,” Noctis told her, “I'll make sure you can travel anywhere you like. We'll settle matters with Niflheim once and for all, and open all the borders.”

She smiled at him, taken by the idea of Eos united in peace. “I pray that this day will come soon.”

“You could make it another roadtrip!” Prompto called over to them, grinning. “No, wait! Make it your honeymoon!”

“Then you're gonna be the last one I'm inviting,” Noctis replied – an instinctual reaction, to stop him from mentioning the marriage.

“Aw, man.”

Seeing Prompto's excited expression melt away made them all to laugh.

Some time later, they had packed up camp and found a way deeper into the quarry. Noctis and Luna stood both a little to the side, up to their knees in swamp water, while they waited for Prompto to fix an old generator so they could try to move the old crane that was blocking their path.

“You know, about what Prompto said earlier …” Luna began all of a sudden. She did not look him in the eye, but Noctis tensed in anticipation of a touchy subject all the same. “I'm sorry I couldn't let you know that our marriage was just an arrangement to escape Niflheim's grasp. But, married or not, I'm still happy to be with you, and I hope that we can spend more time together in the future.”

For the first time since Altissia, Noctis sensed a certain bashfulness in her wording. To know that she felt the same way as he did seemed to take a great weight off of his shoulders. “So do I!” he uttered in surprise.

She turned to look at him. “Do you think I could help you rebuild Insomnia? So many homes were destroyed. I'd like to bring hope to the Crown City if I can.”

“Of course you can! Just come and stay at the Citadel with us,” Noctis offered before realising he was getting ahead of himself. “That is, if the Citadel's still standing?”

“It is,” she assured him.

He all but laughed out loud in relief. “Great!”

“It's a deal, then.”

“It's a date,” he said, suddenly overcome with confidence, and a smile spread across Luna's face.

“Let's make it so.”

The generator sputtered to life, and with a rumble of wood and earth, the old crane moved just enough to open up a way through the roots of the great tree before it got stuck again.

Gladio went ahead and signalled for the happily grinning royal couple to follow.

Years of rain that had poured down into the quarry's centre had created a dark cave underneath of the great tree's trunk, filled with more murky water. A horrid, but thankfully faint stench permeated the air as though something had been rotting down there for decades. This was the last place Noctis wanted to be at, but it was also the last place to check for the lost tomb. If it was not here, he would gladly turn around and leave this stinking, muddy hellhole.

As they ventured deeper into the cave, they came across a number of small, plant-like monsters, which slithered through the swamp water on their tentacle-like roots. Their heads, if they could be called such, consisted only of suction cups and a large jaw filled with several rows of sharp teeth.
To think that someone had decided that would make a cute brand mascot …
Although they were bothersome, they posed no considerable threat. Still, Noctis could not help but wonder; Were Malboros not supposed to be much bigger?
He got his answer much sooner than expected. The horrid stench increased in intensity, causing Noctis' stomach to cramp up. Next to him, Luna clasped a hand over her mouth and nose as a wave of the gas rolled over their party. Out of the darkness and the noxious fumes the actual, adult Malboro emerged, armed with more teeth, more tentacle-like roots, and a very bad temper.

“Someone needs a mouthwash!” Prompto shouted.

“Best be quick about this,” Ignis suggested.

“Wouldn't want the stink to stick.” Gladio added and cleaved through the Malboro sprouts that were gathering between him and the big one.

With a gurgle, the Malboro released another wave of its bad breath and Ignis seized the chance to throw a flask of fire magic at the creature. Due to the moist swamp climate, however, the flames died quickly. Prompto gave the monster a taste of the auto-crossbow. In return, the Malboro snapped at him, but Luna drove the monster back by summoning a pillar of light to pierce it. Noctis switched from his favourite sword to a spear, so he could keep a bit of distance to the whipping roots and snapping jaw as he warped at the creature.
The stench proved to be a slightly greater issue than anticipated. Not only did it limit their already poor vision to the point where he lost sight of his comrades, but whenever Noctis breathed too much of it in, the world around began to spin. He considered himself lucky just to stay on his feet.

They had not been fighting for long, when the Malboro coughed up a big ball of half-digested plant food – carnivorous plant food, that is, – and spat it at Luna.

Quickly, Noctis warped into her direction. Just as he tried to pull her out of the way, the Malboro's spit knocked them both into the swamp water.
Luna and Noct emerged, soaked, stinking, with pieces of gods-know-what stuck to their clothes, hair and skin, but, well … At least the swamp water had washed some of the Malboro's digestive fluids off instantly.

Although clearly disgusted by the state she was in, Luna did not complain. She merely turned to Noctis, reached out to touch his cheek, and hesitated. “Uh, Noct?”

He shot her an annoyed look. “Don't tell me; I got something on my face?”

Noctis got back to his feet, peeled off some of the Malboro's last meal from his arms and helped Luna up as well. It was just about that moment when the temperature dropped around them. Even time itself seemed to slow down. Noctis felt the magic of the gods surge in the air. His breath condensed before his eyes. The poisonous fog surrounding him and Luna cleared, and in a glow, Gentiana appeared. She walked past them, on a fine sheet of ice atop the murky swamp water.

“Such foul weed shall not be allowed to stain the Oracle and her King.” Her entire body was engulfed in light for a moment or two, and when it faded, a human-sized goddess with white braids and grey to blueish skin had appeared in her stead.

Noctis gasped as he watched her float past, towards the monster. “Could that be … Shiva?”

The Glacian gathered the magic around them between the palms of her hands, concentrating it and releasing a cold blast at the Malboro and its sprouts.
In a matter of seconds, the monsters frosted over, turning brittle and lifeless. Thick ice crystals shot out of the water, shattering some of the Malboro's sprouts and caging the adult in. Noctis braced himself against the freezing gust of wind that suddenly blew through the cave. It cleared out the noxious fumes, and when the winds died down again, Shiva was gone.

Dumbfounded, Prompto looked around. “Dude, what was that? What did I miss?”

“Divine intervention?” Ignis guessed.

“Yup,” replied Noctis, drawing their attention.

Iggy's collected expression fell from his face at the sight of him and Luna. Gladio, too, raised an eyebrow at the messy state they were in. “What happened to you two?”

“You, uh, don't wanna know.” In a quieter tone, Noctis turned back to Luna. “So, Gentiana's the Glacian, huh? You could've told me.”

“It was something you had to find out for yourself, I'm afraid. But I can assure you, you had her blessing all this time.”

“Right,” Noctis replied, trying not to sound as annoyed by the gods' mysterious ways as he really was. “Alright, let's find that tomb and get out of here. I'm so through with this place.”

By this point, Noctis was just about ready to abandon the quarry, with or without a Royal Arm, to go and get a hot shower back at the train station's lodgings. Especially so because Ardyn was not around to hog the bathroom for over an hour, which meant he would not have to sit around waiting, all sticky and gross. Then again, he probably could wait long enough to let Luna go first.

Now that the fog had lifted, an overgrown stone structure became visible at the edge of the swamp. Although damaged, the basic shape matched the entrance to a Royal Tomb.
Something was not right, however. Even though Shiva had disappeared, Noctis could still feel the hum of divine magic in the air, as strong as though the Astral had not left. His and Luna's eyes met.

“You can feel it, too, can't you?” she asked.

Sounds of cracking ice caused the five of them to turn their attention back to the frozen Malboro. Its body emanated an orange glow from deep within, as though liquid fire was burning in its veins. The frost melted rapidly off its body. Ice crystals shifted and splintered.

“Heads up, everybody!” Gladio shouted, summoning a shield from the armiger.

Fire erupted from the Malboro, but instead of burning it to ash, the monster returned to life, having seemingly taken on the element as its own. Smoke and embers flew from its jaws as it snapped at thin air. Next to the creature, in another burst of flames, the Pyreburner appeared. Unlike the last time Noctis had seen him, Ifrit no longer showed obvious signs of the Starscourge. His skin had regained a healthy and natural colour, and his presence exuded a constant warmth. The water surrounding him boiled as his feet touched the ground. He carried a curved sword in one hand, large enough to cleave a car in two in one strike.

“It's the Infernian!” Prompto pointed at the fire god, half-excited, half-panicked.

Noctis stepped forward, knowing that Ifrit could only be here to see either him or Luna and the Astral did not look agreeable.

The Pyreburner spoke first, in the voice of the gods that set Noctis' brain ablaze with a headache. Luna placed a hand on his back as to support him, but, thankfully, the longer Ifrit kept talking, the easier his voice became to bear.

With an unreadable, stoic expression, the fire god pointed his sword at the prince.

“The Infernian wishes to grant you his blessing,” Luna translated “and thus, he challenges you to undertake his trial.”

“Didn't you forge a covenant with him in Altissia already?” Noctis asked her.

“At Altissia, I was able to gain his favour, but he must grant you his blessing out of his own free will.”

Noctis was sceptical. “What does he want me to do? Take out the Malboro?” It seemed a bit too easy to be a god's trial, but perhaps there was a twist to it.

Instead of Luna, Ifrit answered. His voice sounded more demanding than before, yet to Noctis it remained unintelligible and painful noise.

“He says,” Luna continued, “if the future is to be placed on the shoulders of men, then it is their strength and resolve that must prevail. You are to send forth your best men against his champion, but those tainted by the Draconian's blessing musn't interfere.”

Noctis gave her a questioning look. “Tainted by the Draconian's blessing?”

“He means you and I,” she clarified. “It was Bahamut who created the bloodlines of Oracles and Kings.”

The prince flashed a bold smile at the Infernian. “Fine, we'll play by your rules! I got my best men right here.” He glanced over to Gladio, Iggy and Prompto. “You up for this?”

“I've felled bigger monster than a burning Malboro before,” Gladio boasted.

Ignis adjusted his glasses. “Come now, don't get cocky.”

“You got a plan, right, Iggy?” Prompto asked.

“As always.”

“Then we're as ready as we'll ever be.” Prompto gave Noctis a thumbs-up, trying his best to appear confident even though he was, most likely, still a bit nervous.

When it came to his friends, Noctis had no doubts that they were going to give it their all and succeed.

With a gesture, Ifrit sent the Malboro to attack them with its flaming breath, and in response, Ignis signalled the others to scatter. The three of them spread around the cave, so that each of them could approach the monster from a different angle. Gladio opened the fight by hurling his great sword at the creature, and Ignis followed up with a round of daggers imbued with ice magic, successfully cutting through some of the roots while Prompto opened fire at the monster from a safe distance.

Perhaps it was because Noctis had been asked to sit and watch, but it seemed to him as though the powers granted by the Astral had barely added to the Malboro's strength. The Infernian was going easy on them. Since he did not stick around to watch, Noctis was left to assume that Ifrit, just like him, already knew the outcome.

“Did you know,” Luna began as they watched the fight, “that the Pyreburner used to watch over the people of Solheim? He used to be a very generous god until his worshippers turned against him. If my sacrifice restored even a little of his faith in mankind, then I believe it had been worth it.”

“I think you succeeded,” Noctis replied upon seeing Ignis toss another magic flask at the Malboro, right as it opened its jaws to breathe fire at them. The flask exploded into a freezing cloud of ice and send the creature staggering backwards. Gladio closed the distance in an instant by jumping at it with his sword raised high, knocking the monster over. It flailed once more before it breathed its last and the fires eventually turned its body into ash.

“Now that,” Prompto said, sweating and panting, “was one hot affair.”

Even Ignis was looking somewhat dishevelled after all this fighting.

Unlike them, Gladio kept his weapon shouldered, obviously wary of what was coming next. “Was that good enough or what?”

In place of the dead Malboro, the Infernian reappeared with his gaze fixed onto Noctis. Though his expression remained stoic, he lowered himself to a knee before the Prince. This time, Luna kept up translating while he spoke. “To the Chosen King, I entrust my blessing, so that he may fell gods unworthy of their power and lead his people into a future of light and prosperity.”

Noctis nodded in recognition of Ifrit's gift, and the Astral dissolved in a golden light.

“That was it?” Gladio asked. “That was the trial of the so-called treacherous Pyreburner?”

“Would you have preferred to fight the Astral himself?” Noctis replied.

Ignis wiped the grime from his brow. “Let's just be glad that he was in a giving mood. I'd say we've done more than enough fighting for a day.”

“Gotta agree with specs,” Noctis said. “C'mon, the tomb's just over here.”

By the evening of that day, they returned to the train station all dirty, smelly and exhausted. But it was the good kind of exhaustion; the satisfaction of knowing that they had obtained another Royal Arm and the favour of two more gods through their hard work.

Chapter Text

Saying that Ravus' mind was in turmoil was like saying that the Empire had a minor internal dispute to settle – a vast understatement.

Ever since he left Altissia, the gears in Ravus' head had been turning. The detour Minister Besithia had taken via the primary magitek production facility to drop off their precious cargo had lengthened their journey, but had done nothing to help Ravus reach a conclusion.

He had always preferred his world to be painted in black and white, with clear rules and principles to guide him through his life. But now, good and bad, right and wrong, they all had lost their meaning. What kind of twilight age was this, in which the light could hurt and the darkness could heal? In which bloodlines, that had been loyal to the gods for eons, had turned their backs on the divine?

For all his unworthiness, the Lucii had allowed Noctis to use the ring and save Luna, while he, despite having been declared worthy by the Draconian himself, had been burned by the ring's magic. Ravus considered himself lucky that his burns were mostly superficial, but then again, did luck have anything to do with it?
Worse still was only that the accursed Chancellor – the man who had “evil” written in bold letters all over him – had played a part in saving Luna from the darkness. One might argue that they were one team, working against the gods, but if the outcome was that people destined to die lived, then what was the true value of the prophecy?

All this pondering was more likely to result in a headache than anything else. At this point, only one thing was certain: Ravus needed answers. But not from the Emperor. He had only come to Gralea in the distant hope that he would be able to figure out where to go next.

Aldercapt had made him wait for an audience. First, because he wanted to speak to the minister in private. Then, because Zegnautus Keep had become inaccessible due to technical difficulties. As if Ravus would believe this cover-up story.

Eventually, Brigadier General Loqi Tummelt arrived to take Ravus to the Emperor. It was not that Ravus needed someone to show him the way, but Aldercapt seemingly insisted on some security, given that Ravus had gone against his orders back at Insomnia and still refused to hand over the Crystal.

As Loqi led him through the empty halls and drab concrete corridors of Zegnautus Keep, Ravus could not help but notice the lack of human presence, as well as the lack of magitek guards. It seemed that they were the only two living beings aboard the floating megafortress.

“What happened to the defence forces?” he asked.

“There has been something of a falling-out between the Emperor and the Head of Research,” Loqi explained, “and now we have to deal with unprogrammed and rouge magitek soldiers that have escaped from the fortress. I'd like to pretend these two events are unrelated, but the connection is too obvious to ignore.”

“So much for relying on the loyalty of the one man who has manufactured the entire Niflheim army.”

“Go figure,” Loqi replied. “As soon as I'm done with this menial task, I can go back to fighting our own infantry just to keep them from laying waste to the capital.”

No matter how much Ravus hated everyone in the Empire, there was something to be said for Loqi's loyalty to his homeland. Every member of the government and every military leader, except Loqi had either died, fled, or turned their backs on the Emperor. At this point, the only commander left to them was one, inexperienced, over-ambitious brigadier general. Perhaps the last shred of integrity in this madhouse of a nation.

Ravus glanced sideways at the young man and scoffed. Even Loqi was falling apart in a way. He looked as if he had dropped out of bed after a half-hour nap when he had hoped for 4 or 5 hours of sleep, then rushed to put on that overly decorated armour. The armour plates sat askew on his shoulders. His hair was unkempt. And all this despite the fact that he was almost as vain as Ulldor had been. Actually, his appearance provided a fitting allegory for the state the Empire was in: An unfixable mess. Even the pretence of integrity had become pointless by this point.

“It's hard to believe now, but when I was a new recruit, I respected you for your swordsmanship and sense of duty,” Loqi said, trying to fix his hair as they stood in one of the Keep's elevators. “Of course, that was long before you went and declared yourself King of Lucis.”

“I was boasting, is what you're thinking,” Ravus stated, “but the title of True King is no mark of a monarch. It is a divine calling. I have no interest in ruling over Lucis.”

They exited the elevator and approached the cylindrical room in the upper levels of Zegnautus Keep, where the Emperor awaited them.

“I'm afraid it'll make no difference to Aldercapt,” Loqi replied, straightened his posture and entered the room ahead of Ravus.

A short red carpet led up to the Emperor's seat. Neither the throne nor the room could compare to the magnificence of its counterpart in Insomnia, which only proved how much harder Niflheim had to work to achieve the same goals, since they had never been blessed by the gods as Lucis had been. Still, envy was a poor excuse for setting one's sights on world domination.
Emperor Aldercapt sat slumped back on his throne, looking deathly pale.

“Your Radiance,” Loqi greeted the Emperor and bowed.

“Thank you, Commander Tummelt,” Aldercapt said and drew a wheezing breath. “You may return to your duties.”

Loqi gave a sharp nod to Ravus as he turned and left the room.

“Ravus, my son. Please, step closer.”

The pretence of familiarity irritated him, as it always had when Aldercapt or Izunia had used that tone with him, but he walked up to the throne anyway. There was something off about the Emperor. He had not looked so frail the last time Ravus had seen him.
Only a few more steps into the dimly lit room and Ravus realised what was wrong. The scourge had almost completely taken over Aldercapt's body. Wisps of darkness rose from his shoulders and arms. In a matter of mere minutes, or even moments, he would turn into a daemon.
Hissing, Ravus fell into a fighting stance, ready to draw his sabre. “What have you done, you old fool?”

“Do you not see, how badly the Empire needs the ring and the Crystal?”

“Both the Crystal and the ring are intended for the one True King only,” Ravus claimed, although he no longer thought of the True King as himself, since the Lucii had rejected him. “They are certainly not meant for those in league to the darkness.”

“But they were supposed to be mine!” Aldercapt grimaced. “Surrender them now, and I … I will forgive you your insolence and insubordination.”

“You are a blind old man, fooled by your Chancellor, and powerless without the minister.”

“No, I …!” The Emperor gasped for air. “I am not powerless!”

Something cold, dark and sinister rose from the ground behind Ravus. He glanced over his shoulder to find himself threatened by two daemons, each of which was made up of what looked like a humanoid corpse wrapped in tattered robes, ribbons and skulls. Psychomancers. Kind of ironic to think that the Empire had lost control of everything but the daemons, the most difficult part of their forces to control.

Ravus ground his teeth. Best to end this quickly.

In one practised motion, he drew his sabre and plunged it into the Emperor's chest.

Aldercapt let out a gasp, but no blood stained his white robes. Instead, miasma poured out of the wound as the Emperor's body dissolved and his clothes folded in on themselves.

Curse his luck. Ravus was too late. Whipping around, he found himself face-to-face not just with the two Psychomancers, but also one new addition. Out of a pool of miasma rose a large, sinewy daemon with upside-down, leathery wings and blades protruding from its arms that pierced its own hands but still extended far enough to be perfectly usable weapons. Foras, they called this subspecies, but this specimen in particular could only be the Emperor's new form.

“Not powerless!”, the Foras screeched in a heavily distorted voice. It lunged at him with its blade-like protrusions.

Ravus blocked and deflected two strikes, then dodged through a third to try and escape the room. He managed to avoid a blow from one of the psychomancers, but the other caught him with a blast of dark magic.

In the nick of time, Ravus raised his blade to defend himself. The sheer force, however, pushed him out of the open door and onto the catwalk leading up to the room. This would be so much easier if he had divine magic at his disposal. No matter how skilled he was with a sword, no mere man could hope to defeat three daemons of such size and power.
Ravus did the only sensible thing, turned around and fled across the catwalk to the nearest elevator.

With a crash that shook the ground and caused Ravus to stumble, the Foras daemon landed in front of him. It dug its blades into the iron grating of the floor and cut off his escape route, in a quite literal sense.

Due to its structural integrity gone, the catwalk wobbled underneath his feet. As it suddenly tilted, Ravus slid down the iron grating until he reached the edge, then jumped off, down into the hollow core of the Keep, hoping, but not knowing, that he would survive the fall.

Landing on another platform suspended far below, he performed a dodge roll in an attempt to break his momentum, but pain shot through the shoulder of his still-burned arm. Ravus struggled back to his feet by holding onto the railing for support. His shoulder stung and burned with pain, causing him to wince. At least, he was still alive and no longer threatened by those daemons. Chances were, however, that they would not take long to catch up with him.

He pulled the Ring of the Lucii out of his coat pocket. Could he use it or not? He needed the answer now.

With clenched teeth, Ravus sheathed the Alba Leonis sabre and slid the ring onto a finger of his still unburnt hand, but held it in place with the other, ready to remove it instantly in case the Lucii denied him their favour.

“Hear me, Kings of Yore” Ravus said, feeling the pain from his shoulder pierce into his chest and restrain his breathing. “Hear me and let me talk to the one who calls himself the Founder King, brother to the Accursed.”

The faint whispers of the Lucii reached his ears, but nothing else happened. Ravus was getting fed up with them.

“Very well, your Highness.” Ravus spat out the word as if were a piece of hot coal on his tongue. “I give you three seconds to show yourself or I will throw the ring into the bowels of the Keep.”

And if they punished him for his insolence he would do the same. The ring would be lost, and then there was no bearer to deliver it to Noctis. Certainly, the Lucii realised this much as well. Ravus had thought himself to be above the use of blackmail, but apparently that was the only way to commune with this stubborn lot. He counted silently to three and just as he began to pull the ring off, a voice spoke up.

“I am here, Ravus Nox Fleuret. What do you want from me?”

The faintly glowing apparition of a man dressed in black robes appeared before him. It was just barely visible, even in front of the dimly lit insides of the Keep. His likeness to the young prince of Lucis was uncanny.

“Noctis?” Ravus asked, mildly confused by what he was seeing.

“I am Somnus Lucis Caelum,” the spirit replied and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “First in the line of Lucis, and yes, brother to the Accursed. Now ask. Do not waste what precious little energy holds me in this world.”

Ravus gathered his strength, straightened his posture and pushed the pain to the edge of his perception. “Tell me, why have the Lucii rejected me when Bahamut himself declared me worthy? Your bloodline has faithfully served the Bladekeeper for many generations. You were supposed to comply with his decisions.”

“I stand by my kingly calling and the original prophecy as much as any of my line. Thus, I refuse to accept any replacement for the True King. Bahamut's power was too great in Insomnia for me to object, so I had to bide my time until you crossed paths with Noctis.”

“Yet Noctis refused the ring because of you,” Ravus stated. “Why?”

“It is as the Draconian has told you. My brother has dug his claws deep into the mind of my heir and is using him to exact vengeance on Bahamut and me. He told him of what I had to do to him in order to stop the scourge, to halt what he was becoming. Of course, Noctis thinks not too highly of me, seeing how he's heard only the side of the victim. I firmly believe, however, that he can still fulfil his calling. The Draconian has not outright rejected him, and Ardyn must be put to rest or our star will never be free of the scourge.”

Ravus narrowed his gaze but found the Founder King's face to be very difficult to read. “Surely you know of the price that has to be paid for expelling the darkness.”

“I do, and I do not wish for my line to end,” Somnus replied. “Bahamut has foreseen Noctis' demise, but there are other ways to enter the beyond and complete his task.”

The screeching of daemons resounded through the hollow core of Zegnautus Keep. Ravus looked up briefly before turning back to the Founder King. “Here's my deal:” he said, full of confidence knowing that he could still threaten the Founder King with dropping the ring over the nearest railing. “Help me defeat those daemons and escape, and I will meet up with Noctis in Insomnia so that he may have the ring and the sacred stone. If both the Oracle and the line of the Lucii no longer believe in the prophecy as it was foretold, then neither will I. As long as my sister stays alive, you can have my support to rid the world of darkness in whichever way you deem right.”

Somnus nodded. “Then we have an agreement.”

As Ravus looked over his shoulder, he saw the shadows behind him merge into a pool of miasma. Out of it clambered the Foras daemon.

“Call forth the Sword of the Father and I shall channel the power of light through it,” Somnus said as his visible form faded away.

Ravus turned to face the daemon, raised his right hand and summoned Regis' sword. He would have preferred to take on this fiend with both blades, but there was no way his left arm could suffer another blow.

“What did you think I needed the ring for, smartass?” he hissed under breath.

“I heard that.”

“So what? Three of you Lucis Caelums made my life a living hell. I'm done treating your kind with decency.”

There were no more complaints from the Founder King after that. Magic tingled in the palm of his hand as light was channelled from the ring into the Royal Arm.

In the meantime, the Foras daemon had fully materialised from the shadows. It wasted no time to lunge at Ravus again, screeching.

“Give me the ring!”

Ravus dived under its swipe and slashed at the daemon's side. A trail of light followed the sword's movements.

The Foras daemon staggered for a moment before retaliating. Keeping his wounded side out of harm's way, Ravus dodged another blow and let a flash of light burst from the ring. Thanks to its divine power, he was confident that he could win this fight. It was still an effort, though, especially when the two psychomancers from earlier joined in. Partly because of his injuries, but also because Somnus was granting him access only to a portion of the power Bahamut had given him. Not that any of it was ever really his.

After suffering another burst of Holy, one of the psychomancers dissolved permanently. By summoning the Draconian's blades, Ravus quickly dispatched the other. The Foras daemon, too, had taken a fair amount of damage. It really had to be driven by Aldercapt's spirit to want the ring so badly. The next time the daemon lunged at him, Ravus struck its arm with the fully-charged blade of the Sword of the Father and cut its blade-like protrusion clean off. Before it could recover from the blow, Ravus ran it through.

He watched the daemon dissipate and finally allowed himself to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let the adrenalin fade and the pain back into his mind, just to check if he had suffered any more injures he should be aware of. Ravus felt just as sore as before, but he definitely needed to have that shoulder seen to.

A sigh escaped him as he took the ring off his finger and a loose strand of hair fell into his face.

Hopefully, his sister had recovered well from the ordeal at Altissia.

Chapter Text

So, this was their plan;
Ride the train all the way to Tenebrae. Check.

Say good-bye to Luna and Gladio. Check.

Meet up with Aranea at the decided rendez-vous spot just outside of Niflheim's frozen tundra. Check.

Next, let Aranea take them in her airship as close to the primary magitek production facility as possible. This one was a work in progress.

While her airship hovered across the snow fields of Niflheim, Prompto and the others passed the time until their arrival by putting on the warmest clothes found in Noct's armiger. None of them had actually thought of buying new clothes back in Altissia, so they made do with what they had.

The door to the cockpit opened and Aranea entered the cargo bay.

Somehow, every time they encountered the Dragoon, she got more attractive. Not only was she one good-looking bad-ass fighter with a strong attitude, she also had the guts to blaze her own trail, running a search-and-rescue business now, and to top that off, she still commanded her very own airship and crew. As much as Prompto admired her, even he was starting to believe Aranea was way out of his league. He was probably better off trying his luck with Cindy.

“We're approaching our destination,” Aranea said. “I still can't wrap my head around why you'd be wanting him back, or why you're thinking he's still alive, even. As far as search and rescue goes, I've helped you with the search, but you can go rescue him yourself. The only reason I'm helping you with this mission is that there are rogue MTs strolling through Gralea's streets, killing citizens, and they've escaped from a facility such as this. So if you go and take out the production line while you're in there, we'll have a few tin heads less to worry about.”

“This leaves us with the question on how to get in,” Ignis mused aloud.

“There is little public information about the production facilities, but I know they are run by a skeleton crew of researchers and maintainers,” Aranea explained to him. “Most of the facility is automated, which includes security. If we attempt to land on their grounds without clearance, the defence system will blast us out of the sky.” She paced along the wall of the cargo bay, eyeing the fur trimmed jackets of Noctis and his friends as she kept talking. “You're not gonna climb those walls and fences, either. Any breach of the perimeter will bring the whole facility down on you. So, you're gonna jump.”

“J-Jump?” Prompto did not know what she meant, but he did not like the sound of it.

From a hook on the wall, Aranea took a backpack with a parachute and tossed it to him. “What, you afraid of heights or something? Yeah, you'll be jumping off the tailgate. Small targets, difficult to hit.”

He cast a glance over to Noctis who looked unconvinced by this plan as well.

“So you're saying they'll still be shooting at us? Great, can't wait for it.”

“Sarcasm is hardly a viable solution to this problem,” Iggy reminded him.

“But it is always a valid reaction.”

Aranea chuckled. “Hey, the thrill of danger is what makes life interesting.” She hit a button at the far end of the cargo bay and the tail gate began to open. “Gimme a call when you're ready for pick-up and I'll come and get you out of this hellhole.”

Both Noct and Iggy took two of the remaining parachutes off the wall and prepared for the jump. Prompto too, pulled the googles over his eyes, hurried to put on the backpack and checked for the pull string to make sure he found it when needed. A strong wind blew in from the open tailgate, tugging at their clothes and muffling their voices.

“We owe you a lot, Aranea,” Noctis shouted over the noise.

The Dragoon looked to be completely unfazed by the winds whipping about her and the long drop just a step away. Below of them, the structures of the production facility stood out starkly against the white snow fields.

“You can pay me back once we've got your princely ass on that throne in Insomnia,” Aranea responded.

Noctis took a run-up and was the first to jump out of the airship. Heights had never bothered him, of course. He was used to warping high up and bringing down his blade with devastating force. Without much hesitation, Ignis followed him. The height itself was no problem to Prompto, either, but he would certainly feel much more confident going down in an aircraft. He gulped.

“Get a move on!” Aranea prompted him. “We're not gonna turn back just because you miss the drop-off point.”

Prompto walked a few steps backwards to take a run-up as well, then jumped. “Here goes nothing!”

He spread his arms and legs out as he fell. Both Noctis and Ignis were still in his sights below of him. They appeared to be headed towards a sufficiently unobstructed area on the facility grounds, away from the patrolling magitek troopers.

All of a sudden, shots ripped through the air. Prompto made out two defence turrets aiming at them.

A number of missiles was headed their way just as Noctis opened his parachute.

Prompto pulled the string on his backpack right after Ignis did, still a little earlier than needed. The parachute shot open and with a jerk, his descent was slowed. One projectile zipped past his feet, only missing him thanks to the change of pace. He drew his handgun and took aim at the remaining missiles. With two precision shots, he managed to explode some of them before they reached Noct and Iggy, but many more were still on their way.

Just then, there was a change in the air. It almost crackled with magic. Even though he had no supernatural powers of his own to compare, Prompto felt Noctis' magic surge and radiate off him. Clouds had formed in the sky. From previous encounters with Ramuh and Titan, Prompto knew what this meant.

The air grew crisp and cold, much colder than it already was, and from it materialised a human-sized goddess with blue to greyish skin and braided white hair. Time seemed to slow as she floated towards the missiles and her body split into multiple copies of her, each of them heading for a different projectile. Gently, the Shivas redirected the missiles away from Noctis, Prompto and Ignis and let them explode where they caused no harm. Prompto was awe-struck at the sight of the ice goddess protecting them during their descent. Thanks to her, all three of them managed to land unharmed and undetected, if the lack of a blaring siren was anything to go by.

Prompto fought his way out of the parachute that had collapsed on top of him, unbuckled the backpack and caught up to the others. Just a few minutes past their landing they found a way out of the snow and into the building.

They entered a corridor with plain white walls and lights lining the ceiling, leading up to a closed door. In passing, Prompto eyed a cabinet filled with machine guns of Imperial design. Noctis was the first to approach the door. There was no obvious way to open it manually, only a control panel next to it.

“Great, now what?” the prince said after taking a first glance at the panel. “Do we need a key card or something? Hey, Prompto, you're the technophile. Help me out here.”

Prompto tapped Noct's shoulder and pushed himself past his friends. “Watch and learn!”

The door control consisted of a display reading various data, most of which seemed cryptic even to Prompto, as well as a large black panel of yet unknown purpose. Since there were no buttons, Prompto checked whether the display reacted to touch. The moment he reached out for it, the green light of a scanner activated in the other panel. A number appeared on the display.

“Unit 0-5-9-5-3-2-3-4 confirmed,” a female computer voice said, and with a crack, the door unlocked and opened.

“Nice!” Noctis exclaimed.

Prompto stood there, baffled. It took him a moment to process and understand that the scanner had read the barcode tattooed onto his wrist. His sleeve must have gotten pulled up when he had untangled himself from the parachute.

“Warning: this unit has been compromised,” the same monotone voice continued. “Initiating retrieval of compromised unit.”

The door to the outside opened and in came two magitek troopers. Another one approached from the inside of the building. They posed little danger. After all, Prompto and the others had taken on MTs in much greater numbers.

“Let's wrap this up quickly,” Ignis said.

“On it.” Noctis held out a hand to summon his blade, but nothing happened. “The hell?”

“I can't access the armiger,” Iggy said.

Prompto, too, tried to call his handgun back into his hand. “No luck here, either.”

The first of the magitek troopers opened fire at them. Noctis took cover behind a cabinet and so did Ignis, but not without pulling out one of the machine guns first and throwing it over to Prompto.

He found this particular model to be very easy to use. Taking a few steps back through the open door, Prompto aimed and returned fire at the MTs storming in from outside. He took out the first trooper quickly.

Meanwhile, Ignis tossed another firearm to Noctis. “Given the circumstances, I'm afraid we'll have to make do with what we got.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Prompto could tell it took a couple of seconds for Noctis to familiarize himself with the machine gun. They all had been trained to use any kind of weapon at a basic level, but when it came to firearms, there was only one professional among them.

Prompto turned around to take care of the MT coming from deeper within the building when he heard the door fall shut behind him.

“Restricting access for compromised unit.”

By the time he whirled around, it had already closed. He finished off his opponent with haste before attempting to use the control panel nearby. The scanner read his barcode again, but only a red light flashed up.

“Noct!” he called out.

The noises of shots being fired died down.

“Hey, Prom, can you open the door back up?”, Noctis called back.

“Doesn't look like it.”

Glancing around, Prompto noticed that this part of the corridor opened up into a room further up ahead and while it seemed unlikely that it was going to lead him back to the others, at least he was not locked in entirely.

“Let us find another way into the building and try to meet up inside,” Ignis suggested, apparently addressing Noctis.

“Right,” the prince agreed. “Hey, Prompto! Keep going as far as you can. If you happen to find Ardyn or come across whatever is suppressing my magic, you know what to do.”

“Sure thing!”

There was just a twinge of worry in Prompto's heart as he walked away from the door. Sticking together had been an integral part of their plan. Well, so much for that plan in general. At least Noct had Iggy and Prompto had a firearm to defend himself with, so … things could be worse, probably.

He continued making his way deeper into the building and passed through a room with even more consoles and cabinets filled with records on paper and tape. Ever-curious, Prompto glanced over some of the papers that laid spread out on a table. They referred to the “Deathless project”, and the rest was all-too-specific technobabble about various aspects of test results. It piqued Prompto's curiosity nonetheless. If only he had the time to leaf through all of those records, he would have loved to work out how magitek functioned exactly. Since Prompto had to keep moving, however, he grabbed a handheld playback device and a random voice recording from the cabinet and marched out into the next corridor whilst listening to it.

The recording was something of a journal entry made by the minister and chief researcher of this facility, Verstael Besithia. According to the date given by the minister, the entry dated back all the way to M.E. 722, making it over a decade older than Prompto. He spoke of using daemonic energy to fuel magitek cores and strengthen their infantry, but apart from that did not reveal much about the actual process regarding the creation of magitek cores.

Prompto wandered through more rooms, finding more cabinets with recordings as well as other kinds of firearms, some of which looked to be in-development models. He was also attacked by MTs again, but never in such numbers that he could not have dealt with them.

He slotted another tape into the playback device.

Another one from M.E. 722. In this entry, the minister openly contemplated experimenting on humans. A shiver ran down Prompto's spine, not just once, but twice, when in a follow-up recording, Besithia reported on those experiments having been failures and intending to work on infants next. Seriously, what kind of sick bastard experimented on babies? The thought alone left an uneasy feeling in the pit of Prompto's stomach.
And then there was also a question, a creeping and sickening feeling, of why that scanner had been able to process the barcode on his wrist. It was something that lingered on the very edge of his mind, something a part of him continuously pushed aside and refused to contemplate further.

With the machine gun raised, Prompto ventured through corridor after corridor. More often than not, he was unsure which way to go so he explored all the options. He eventually fought his way past another small group of magitek riflemen into an almost cylindrical room with what appeared to be three prisoner's cells to each side and a control unit in the middle.

Every cell was furnished with what appeared to be medical equipment. Instead of iron bars, walls and doors of reinforced glass separated the smaller rooms from the main room. At first glance, they appeared to be empty. Prompto had not checked all of them yet when his gaze was drawn to more reports lying on the control panel. This facility was positively littered with confidential information.

This particular report mentioned the effects and side-effects of an upgraded version of what was referred to as the “Wallbreaker Wave”.

A female, muffled voice and banging noises caught his attention. Someone appeared to be calling his name. He turned around to see a woman about his age standing in one of the outermost cells and pounding on the glass.

She wore Crownsguard attire, consisting of a black tank top and a pair of jeans with patches and fake tears. Well, some of the tears were fake, anyway. Due to her leather jacket apparently having gone missing, the upper part of the phoenix tattoo on her sternum was visible. Although she gave off a bit of a ragged impression, possibly because of some fights she had been through, the braid adorning her long, flaming-red hair was still intact.

“Val!”

Prompto was so baffled to see his friend that he ran up to the glass wall before realizing he needed to open it first. Judging by her expression, she was screaming at the top of her lungs, but her voice made it barely through to him.

“Get. Me. Out!”

“Right! Gimme a sec.” Prompto hurried back to the control unit and took a moment to figure out how to operate the cell doors, before finding the right button to unlock Valyria's cell. The door part of the glass wall slid open almost without sound.

Prompto turned back at about the same moment Val stepped out of the cell.

“Prom!” she shouted in relief.

Overjoyed at finding her alive and well, Prompto ran up to her and they both pulled each other into a brief, but tight hug.

“Man, when Caligo told us he'd captured you I almost feared the worst!” he exclaimed.

Valyria stepped back to meet his gaze with a worried look in her green to blueish eyes. “Did you meet him? Is he around?”

Prompto slapped her shoulder in a manner of encouragement. “No worries, Val,” he said and winked. “Caligo's dead. We gave him hell back in Altissia.”

“Serves him right for ambushing me on my way back to Lucis. If he would've fought fair, without that stupid MT armour of his, he'd never stood a chance.” Upon glancing around and noticing that there were no enemies nearby, she seemingly relaxed a bit. “Where is everyone else? You didn't come to get me by yourself, did you?”

“Noct and Iggy are 'round here somewhere, but we got separated. Actually …” He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right way to put the next bit. “We didn't know you were here. We didn't even know you were still alive.”

“Apparently I was too valuable to be executed on the spot,” Val explained. “Caligo brought me to this weird facility here. That was … how long ago? Weeks? Or months now?”

“I know, sometimes it feels like an eternity and sometimes it feels like Insomnia fell just yesterday,” Prompto said, having lost track of the date at one point, too. They had been pushing on from one event to the next for so long, how much time had passed since their departure from Insomnia had long since stopped being of importance.

An unsettling thought struck him all of a sudden. “They …” He gulped. “They didn't experiment on you, did they?”

“Not directly, no,” Val replied. “But they got this device they call the Wallbreaker Wave, which suppresses Noct's magic. This madman of a minister made me fight waves of MTs to see if I could use magic and to which extend. I can't even pull Solferrum from the armiger.”

“'Fraid I can't help you with that, but I can give you this.” Prompto held out his machine gun to her. There was no reason why he should not share his findings with her. He still had a sniper rifle left he stole from an MT earlier.

“Thanks.” Much like Noctis, she too, took a while to familiarize herself with the weapon. “Better than hand-to-hand combat, I guess.”

The two of them left the room together. Due to being the more experienced gunner, Prompto took the lead. He was grateful, not only to have found her, but also to be in company again. It helped to keep those dark and unsettling thoughts from earlier at bay. As they continued to search the facility together, Prompto brought Val a bit up to speed.

“So, Gladio didn't accompany you?” she asked him.

“Noct asked him to stay behind with Luna at Tenebrae and wait for us.”

“Thank the Six Luna's okay, too,” Val said and sighed with relief. “I wasn't entirely sure whether the Empire had been lying about her death as well.”

“Yeah, there's so much misinformation floating about. I'm glad we got Iggy to pick it apart for us.” Prompto turned around and walked backwards to face her while talking. “If there weren't so many people on our team already, Luna would've even come with us. But we already got Aranea to bring us here and …”

“Who's Aranea?”

“Oh, she's only, like, the most bad-ass chick ever!” Prompto shrugged, smiling. “She used to be a top fighter in the Niff army up until recently, and now she runs her own search and rescue business.”

In surprise, Val's gaze shifted from the far end of the corridor to him.“You're working with people from the Niff army?”

“Crazy, right?”

Before he could elaborate, the heavy steps of magitek soldiers reached his ears. He turned back around to see a number of state-of-the-art magitek swordsmen running at them. Their attack ended in another small scuffle Prompto and Valyria lived through with barely any scratches to show for. At least, Prompto managed to salvage the serrated blade from one of the MTs so that Valyria could trade the machine gun for a melee weapon, something she was far more comfortable with. From there on out, Val went on ahead. At the next turn they entered a wide corridor with several long windows to either side, each of which allowed a glimpse into an unlit room with seemingly more medical equipment and other machines of unknown purpose inside. There were no handles on the doors, but control panels next to all of them.

Prompto and Val slowed their advance to try and peek through some of those windows into the darkened rooms.

Further down the corridor, Val gasped. “Hey, Prompto!” she called out. “I think there's someone inside!”

He rushed over to her. The room in front of which she stood was not just merely unlit. There was actual, palpable darkness crawling along the walls and ceiling in the form of a thin layer of miasma. Through the dark shone the soft, white glow of several long objects. The muffled roar of a machine sounded from within. For a moment, the miasma moved, allowing a glimpse of a man lying still on a metal table with blades of light piercing his body.

“Ardyn!” Prompto brought out in a breath. He hurriedly unlocked the door by scanning his wrist tattoo on the panel and rushed inside, not caring about the miasma.

“Wait, you're not gonna …,” he heard Val behind him say. “… aaaand you're already in.”

Once inside, the source of all the excess miasma became clear. It slowly bled from Ardyn's open wounds and spread out across the floor. Prompto was not sure how dangerous it was to breathe this stuff in, but he thought himself lucky that it clung mostly to the inside of the walls. He signalled Val to stay outside.

Ardyn laid with his arms and legs spread out across the table. The incorporeal blades ran not just through him, but through the tabletop as well. Embedded into the ceiling above of him was something that looked like the gaping maw of an extraction unit, possibly designed to suck the miasma out of the room. If that was the case, it had done a very poor job, obviously.

Prompto walked around the table and found that Ardyn was conscious. His face was devoid of the usual confident smile, instead he looked worn-out and unfocused.

“Oh, not you again.” He sighed deeply upon noticing Prompto's presence before turning his head away. “Please, spare me your ramblings. Can't you let a man suffer in peace?”

Prompto could not think of anyone Ardyn might confuse him with, but he clearly was not seeing straight. “No, Ardyn, it's me, Prompto.”

The former Chancellor glanced at him again and a sceptical frown formed on his face. “Prompto?”

He nodded affirmingly at Ardyn. “That's right. I'm Noct's friend, remember?”

“Prom,” Val hissed at him from the open door. She looked into the room with a mix of concern and confusion in her expression. “There's some information here about the Adagium. You know, like that monster from the Insomnian legend? You don't think the Niffs have actually …?”

Prompto waved a hand into her direction. “Yea yea yeah I know.”

A flicker of realization crossed Ardyn's face and his eyes widened. “You shouldn't be here,” he said to Prompto.

“Yeah, but now that I'm here, I'm gonna get you out. You just gotta tell me how.”

From up close, he got a better look at Bahamut's swords, but he was still not sure he could simply touch the blades, let alone pull them out. They had no physical form. As far as Prompto knew, they consisted of nothing but magic, much like Noct's Royal Arms or Ardyn's spectral weapons.

“No, you misunderstand. The darkest secrets of this facility might shatter your very soul and mind.” Ardyn's surprised expression turned into a glare and his voice took on a foreboding tone. “Leave the way you came, lest this place will destroy you.”

It took a lot out of Prompto to pretend the implication did not send shivers down his spine.

“Fat chance, my friend.” Trying to stay optimistic, he climbed with his knees onto the table. If Ardyn was not going to tell him how it was done he simply had to try. Prompto reached for the sword piercing Ardyn's chest and almost felt it materialise between his fingers as his hands closed around the handle. Holding his breath, he yanked the blade out. The sword shattered and the miasma pooling around Ardyn's wound solidified back into skin and cloth.

Prompto moved onto the sword stuck in his shoulder.

“You must be out of your mind,” Ardyn mumbled, looking up at him.

“Where I come from, we don't leave allies in need hanging.”

He found his grip on the second sword much faster. With another pull, another wound closed. Once Prompto had the sword in his right arm removed, too, Ardyn stirred. He motioned for Prompto to jump off the table before he sat up with some effort. One by one, the remaining swords shattered as Ardyn moved his legs off the tabletop.

For a few more seconds, he sat on the edge, seemingly trying to gather his strength and bearings. The excess miasma in the room dispersed. Seeing Ardyn so sore and quiet made Prompto feel even more uncomfortable than he already did.

“You're welcome I guess?” he said, trying to break the silence.

Meanwhile, Val had entered the room. “Okay, so that happened,” she stated.

Ardyn shot her a suspicious glare. “Who's she?”

“That's Valyria, she's …”

Before Prompto could even begin to explain their relation, Ardyn got up from the table and walked past them out of the room. “On second thought, I haven't got the mind for introductions right now,” he simply said.

Val raised an eyebrow at Prompto. “Is he always this polite?”

“He's usually much politer,” he tried to assure her. “At the first meeting, at least.”

When Prompto and Val joined Ardyn in the corridor, the former Chancellor stood there with his hands on his hips looking thoughtfully at a door leading deeper into the complex.

“And who is he again?”, she asked.

“That's Ardyn Izunia. He's …” Prompto was almost about to call him Noct's gruncle, but reconsidered, feeling that it might upset Ardyn in a way he was going to regret. “He's a bit difficult to explain, really.”

Valyria blinked at Prompto wide-eyed. “Izunia as in the Niff Chancellor Izunia? The friggin' Niff Chancellor? The same man who practically forced that phoney peace treaty onto Regis?”

“That's the one!” Prompto saw Val's brow crease in irritation and quickly adjusted his tone of voice. “Uhm, like I said, difficult to explain. He's switched sides since.”

“Which reminds me,” Ardyn wondered aloud. “I have yet to file in my resignation form. There's a pesky little clause in my contract that requires it to be signed in blood, I am afraid.” He glanced over his shoulder with a sinister smirk on his face. “But, first things first.”

Chapter Text

Ardyn walked through the complex at his usual leisurely pace, but he was not his usual talkative self. Prompto suspected he had a lot on his mind and, knowing him, he was not going to share his thoughts with anyone. It was a mood Prompto could relate to, for any stretch of silence between the three of them brought back those disturbing thoughts about the origin of his tattoo from earlier. In a hopeless attempt to distract himself, Prompto tried to start a conversation. More than once, actually, but with Ardyn brooding quietly no topic seemed to stick for long.

Valyria and Prompto followed the much taller man into a small office, furnished not only with a desk and cabinets crammed with more records, but also with a simple bed and wardrobe. The former Chancellor's famous fedora lay on the bed.

“Verstael, you neat freak …,” Ardyn said scornfully as he picked up his hat.

Maenwhile, Val turned her attention to the files. She chose a thick folder from the nearest cabinet at random, pulled it out and began to leaf through it.

A moment later, Ardyn joined her to study the collection. Disregarding the mess he was making, he took out one folder after another, glanced at the labels and dropped them on the floor beside him. Prompto quickly got the impression that he was looking for something in particular.

“So, uhm … Why are we here again?” he asked and began to pace around the room searching for anything of use. Stacks of documents lay on top of cabinets that could not fit any more files.

“If there is one thing the minister and I have in common, it is that we like to hear ourselves talk.” Ardyn said without turning to face him, “He kept mentioning a new project of his that I need to catch up on.”

Some of the folders he had dropped were labelled “Taelpar Crag”, “Omega”, “Barbarus” and “Diamond Weapon”. He took out another bearing the title “Immortalis”. It was the first he actually opened to read.

Prompto turned his eyes to one of the stacks of loose papers.

“If I were you, I wouldn't look too closely at those.”

Ardyn's warning meant little to him, since he had no idea what he was warning him about except that this place held supposedly dangerous secrets. If anything, he was most likely referring to how the Niffs used daemons in their research. Something that was of no particularly concern to Prompto.

“Wow, I never thought the Niffs were this deep into Lucian history and legends.” Valyria's eyes did not stray from the record while she spoke. “I mean, I know a lot of them are true, but this … They have medical information on the Adagium. Heart rate, body temperature, cell composition.” She turned the page sideways to look at some sort of diagram. “Like, what kind of creature is this?”

Her pondering out loud caught Ardyn's attention. He looked up and leaned over to her with an expertly feigned mix of surprise and curiosity in his expression. “Oh? Where did you read that?”

Val held out the open page to him, but instead of reading it, he gently touched the paper. Darkness spread from the tip of his finger, a blackness that rapidly devoured the entirety of the folder.

In alarm, Valyria dropped the remains to the floor, where they disintegrated into sparse, black particles. “How? Why!?” She stared at Ardyn in bewilderment.

“I believe destruction of evidence is the answer you are looking for,” he merely said and returned to his previous findings. “It would do you well to do some thinking of your own before you go sputtering questions.”

She huffed at him in annoyance and Prompto could not help but chuckle. They all had to go through that. “Don't sweat it,” he told Val. “You'll get used to his antics.”

“I'm not so sure I want to get used to his antics.”

Should he tell her that Ardyn was the Adagium and that it was technically within his rights to destroy any medical information on him? The tale they told in Insomnia was not at all flattering, and quite far from the truth, apart from the whole being-of-darkness aspect, so Prompto would probably have destroyed any evidence, too, if he were in his place.

He turned his attention back to the stack of papers and looked through the first couple of pages on top. There were letters with requests for clearance, approvals for funding for the Deathless project, and tucked away in between was a note about the change in MT production codes.

Prompto's breath caught in his throat. All the other papers, except the one he was reading, fell from his hands.

What shocked him was not so much the text as the image that accompanied it. A simple sketch showing the location of the MT's production code on a man's right wrist. Not just the location, but the design of the barcode, too, were identical to Prompto's tattoo. A shiver ran through his entire body. He could feel his thoughts grinding to a halt, the world around him fading into the background as fear overwhelmed him.

Val's voice was the first to break through. “Prom, buddy, you alright?”, she asked, looking at him with concern.

Groaning in exasperation, Ardyn set the “Immortalis” files aside.

“Good heavens, does no one ever heed my warnings!?” He marched over to Prompto, tore the sheet of paper out of his fingers and dropped it behind himself. Just like the folder from before, the note, too, blackened and crumbled. “You have no idea how difficult you're making it to keep doing the right thing.”

Prompto stared at his empty hands. They were trembling as he slowly balled them into fists. “This is about me, isn't it?”, he brought out despite the lump forming in his throat. “The secrets of this place … You were warning me specifically. I've been here before, haven't I? You knew this.”

“I know of a thousand terrible truths,” Ardyn said, his unnatural amber glare boring into him. “But that does not mean it would be wise to impart that knowledge to you.”

“I am aware, Ardyn! But …” Prompto replied, desperately trying to appease him. He understood. Ardyn had been warning him of digging too deep into his own past, but now that he knew what the warning had been about, it was already too late. All the possible scenarios flooding his mind were unsettling him to such a degree that he could no longer push them aside. If he left this facility without finding out what his connection to the MTs was, he would never be able to sleep again. His only option was to face his fear and hope that the truth turned out to be less horrifying than anything his mind had come up with. “You can't expect me to ignore this! I need to know! Please, if you'd just …”

Ardyn cut him off. “Don't even try. I will not be held responsible for your mental breakdown.”

“If this is about him, he has a right to know,” Val spoke up from behind the ex-Chancellor, grabbing their attention.

“You will stay out of this if you know what's good for you,” Ardyn warned her.

Anger and determination shone in Valyria's eyes. “No, I won't,” she replied firmly. “Prompto's my friend. If you think I will stand by and watch you patronize him, you're sorely mistaken!”

Ardyn grew quiet at first, but after a moment of silence, a sinister smile spread across his face. “So be it,” he said and strode over to the still open door, chuckling darkly. “If you are so hell-bent to run headlong to your demise, I won't stand in your way. In fact, if you'd like to follow me, you will see the truth you seek with your very own eyes.”

As if the disturbing thoughts were not enough, Ardyn's sudden change of heart caused a tight knot to form in the pit of Prompto's stomach. He exchanged worried glances with Val.

“Why not just tell him?” she asked.

“It may be a little hard to believe, and I wouldn't want you to accuse me of lying, seeing how I'm already on trial for patronising dear Prompto,” he said, sly as ever, and gestured for them to follow. “Come now, we haven't got all day, have we?”

After a moment's hesitation, Valyria and Prompto followed Ardyn out of the room. They walked at a distance from him.

“What did that paper say about you?” Val asked after a while.

“Nothing about me directly, but …” Prompto nearly choked on the words. He had always been afraid to talk about his origin, even before he had begun reading those records. But Val was here with him and they both were going to learn the full truth, anyway. Trying to hide it would be pointless, even if he did not want her to know. “I … I never told you this, or anyone, but I was not born in Lucis. I was born in Niflheim. Most likely, anyway. Orphaned in the war, or so they said. The Crownsguard brought me into the Argentum family.”

This much he had learned from his adoptive parents and Prompto was fairly certain that they had not kept any more secrets from him. After all, they would have had to care about him to do so.

“Why did you never tell us?” Val asked, but he could not bring himself to look into her face.

“It never came up, and …” Prompto took a breath, trying to force out the words, but to no avail. Back in high school, they had always joked about the Niffs, blaming them for everything. Someone's dad died? Must be the war. Got a bad grade? Must be Niff sabotage. Bad hair day? Somehow the Niff's fault.

He had not wanted to be the enemy. He had wanted to be a part of the team, to laugh with them, not be laughed at. Even today, that was all he wanted, perhaps more desperately than ever before.

“Y'know, from what I've gathered, the Niffs aren't so bad anymore,” Valyria said. “Here we are, trotting after the Niff Chancellor like choco chicks after their mother, and you only found me because that ex-Commodore helped you, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah right.” Things had changed since they set out from Insomnia. Being a Niff no longer meant being a bad person per-se.

Ardyn obviously knew this facility like the back of his hand. He never hesitated as he led them through this maze of winding corridors and empty halls. Eventually, they arrived in front of a large, circular door. “Here we are,” Ardyn declared and turned around to Prompto. “Are you ready to face what lies beyond? This might very well be a point of no return.”

Prompto clenched his hands into fists and nodded.

“Are you sure?” Val asked quietly.

“I am,” he reaffirmed, biting his lip.

Ardyn stepped aside to reveal another control panel with in-built scanner. “Be so kind, would you? I seem to have misplaced my keycard.”

Or rather, no access to his armiger, was what he probably meant to imply. Following his instruction, Prompto stepped forward, pulled up his sleeve and scanned his tattoo. As expected, the door segments slid back and the passage opened.

Beyond lay a large, dimly lit room with high ceilings. The machinery within was illuminated only by the soft glow coming from a row of glass tubes, each of which was tall enough to contain a fully grown man. Two staircases at the other end of the room led to an elevated level and a panoramic window facing the adjacent room.

Ardyn stayed behind as Prompto and Valyria entered.

There were people inside the tubes. Unmoving, sleeping, perhaps. The sight by itself was frightening enough, but as Prompto stepped closer, his chest grew so tight he became unable to breathe. They were not just people. All of them looked exactly like him.

“What are they? What – what am I!?” he uttered, gasping for air.

This was too much. The knot in his stomach tightened painfully, making him feel sick. Prompto clung onto a nearby pipe as he doubled over.

“Just to be fully clear: You brought this onto yourself.” The light falling in from the brightly lit experimentation chamber next door highlighted Ardyn's silhouette in front of the upstairs window.

Prompto felt Val's hands on his back as she tried to support and comfort him. She looked around the room. “Okay, this is bad. I don't know who they are, or why they look like you, but … They are live people, right? We shouldn't leave them like this.”

“Ah, yes, release them! What a splendid idea.” Ardyn applauded her lazily. “There is only one catch to your plan. You see, unlike Prompto's mind, you will find that the minds of his brethren are rather … undeveloped. Oh dear, could they even breathe on their own? I cannot tell.”

The mocking tone of his voice cut into Prompto's heart like a knife. “Ardyn,” he wheezed, still struggling to breathe despite of the fear clutching his chest. “Why …?” Why was he being this mean on top of everything? He had saved him from the Behemoth. They were supposed to be allies. Friends.

Valyria glared at Ardyn, whose face was obscured by shadows. “You owe us an explanation!”

“Do I, now? I suppose I promised something of the sort. Well, then. Our common friend here was born, no, created, in this very facility. Much like his brethren, he was destined to be daemonified and made into a magitek core, becoming the energy and, say, mind of a magitek solider.”

Prompto felt the warm touch of Val's hand disappear.

She drew in a sharp breath. “So those things we were fighting all this time were…”

“Not so MT after all, hm?” Ardyn took a step back from the railing on the upper level of the room and raised his arms. “Now, while you are busy mourning the loss of your humanity, I will go and talk to your daddy dearest. Grown-up matters only, but if you wish to listen in, you are free to do so. It might just be your last and only chance to see your maker.” He turned to walk away, but stopped again, directing his attention at Valyria. “Oh, by the way. People in Niflheim called me by the title of Chancellor, but long before that I was known to Lucis as the Adagium.” He strode off to the right and out of their view.

“What?” Val uttered in shock and looked at Prompto. “Please don't tell me we released the Adagium on purpose.”

With some effort, he straightened up and pushed Val away. His chest was still tight with fear, but no longer to such an extend that he felt like choking. His mind, however, was a mess. Wrecked by an assault of horrible feelings, from fear to despair to wanting to disassociate himself from his origin and reality altogether. Ardyn's words echoed in his head. “Loss of humanity.” So Prompto was not even a Niff, but something less than human. A thing, about as worthless as any one of those machine soldiers he should have been turned into. Tears pricked at his eyes.

When Val approached him again, he signalled her to keep her distance.

“Just … just go. I can understand if you … or the guys … or anyone, really, no longer want me around. I'm not even human, am I? I was not born, I was made.”

“Prompto,” Val whispered, staring at him in disbelief.

He looked up to the ceiling, trying to keep the tears from running down his face and failing. “I know! I know what this looks like! I'm a Niff creation, and I freed the Adagium to wreak havoc upon Lucis. That's what you're thinking, right?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, not at all! Prom … You're not some thing, you're you. Prompto!” Valyria grabbed him by the shoulders. “Who cares where or how you were born? You never cared about Noct being of noble birth either, right? I don't know what the deal with this Ardyn guy is, but I know you must have had a really damn good reason to get him out. You'd never do anything that would harm Lucis.”

He felt powerless to resist as she shook him. Although her words made sense, he found them difficult to believe.

“You're not going to fall apart just because he told some crap about you, are you? I remember you standing up to the bullies at high school. Hell, you even stood up for me! We're a bit older now, but I know you can still do it.”

Prompto remembered that time Thyrrus and his gang picked on her. He also remembered being bullied by the same guys for his weight when he was a kid. Losing said weight had done surprisingly little to change that, but he did find the courage to stand up for himself eventually.

“Do you really think so?” he asked quietly, not daring to meet her eyes. “That it makes no difference?”

She lowered her voice and let go of his shoulders. “Of course I do,” Val reassured him. “And so will everyone else. I'm certain of it.”

“I would need to tell them, of course,” he realised.

“Or I could do it for you, if that's easier?”

“No, I … I think that's something I have to do myself.” Prompto found new confidence in knowing what to do with the terrible truth of his origins, as well as some hope that he could still be accepted within their party.

Silence fell between them for a moment, leaving room for muffled voices drifting down from the experimentation chamber beyond the large window upstairs.

Those voices belonged to Ardyn and … his maker? According to the records, that could only be the chief researcher, Verstael Besithia. Prompto knew the man had appeared in the newspaper on occasion, but he did not remember his face. His curiosity kicked back in, and so did a sense of self-destruction, apparently.

“I want to see this through,” he said to Val with his sights set on the window to the chamber next door.

She did not stop or question him this time, just followed him up the stairs in silence.

When Prompto reached the upper floor, he lowered himself into a crouch to remain unseen to the stranger Ardyn was speaking to. The chamber beyond the panoramic window was brightly lit. Dormant magitek axemen stood along the back wall. In the centre, there was some kind of machine surrounded by more tubes with … people … things. The word “brethren” came to his mind and Prompto felt himself cramp up again immediately.

“Deep breaths,” he whispered to himself. He and Val hid in the shadow of a control unit to watch and listen.

“Still, a giant metal worm was the best you could come up with?” Ardyn asked as he strode around the chamber.

“I'll admit the design is crude, but what it lacks in elegance, it makes up for in sheer power.” The other voice, deep and very collected, belonged to an old man with a half-bald head and white beard wearing red and black clothes of military design. He also appeared to be infected with the Starscourge. Prompto was not too familiar with its symptoms, but the right half of the man's face was covered in dark bruises, as though there was liquid darkness running through his veins.

“And here I was, thinking you had more brains than brawns,” Ardyn said. “In any case, if this is what you've been using my blood for, I'd very much like to have it back.”

“Blood, you say, when you know very well that it is anything but. This reminds me: I never properly thanked you for your cooperation. If it hadn't been for the plasmodia samples from you, I might have never seen my hard labour come to fruition, nor could the Empire have risen to so much power in so little time.”

Ardyn did not respond to that.

With a sweeping gesture, Verstael turned to the machine. “Now, I stand at the doorstep to divinity and it is all mine for the taking!” He glanced over his shoulder. “Only you could stop me at this point, but if you wanted to, you would have done so already. Does it not tempt you, to call a lifetime's worth of scientific discoveries your own?”

“Not if they come paired with narcissism and megalomania. Rest assured, however, that I will end your mortal existence and that I will get some satisfaction out of it.”

“It would be my honour.” Verstael turned back around, if only to smirk at Ardyn in a most ominous way. “I am looking forward to testing my immortality against yours.”

A shimmer of light in Ardyn's eyes revealed that he was glancing over to where Prompto and Valyria were hiding. He must have spotted them. “Before I send you off, there is one last I thing I'd like to hear your opinion on,” he said to the minister and walked along the glass window until his shadow fell on Noctis' friends.

Even though Prompto was nowhere near as observant as Ignis, he recognized cover when he saw it. Ardyn was helping them to stay hidden. But why did he do it, when he had been so hurtful to Prompto just minutes before? A voice in the back of Prompto's mind was screaming at him to find out why. There had to be a reason.

“Do you recall the infant the Lucians absconded with some twenty-odd years ago?” Ardyn asked. “He has grown into a rather fine young man, I must say, though his personality has turned out to be quite different from yours.”

“He is of no importance,” Verstael replied and gestured to one of the tubes. “He is but one of millions of my clones, and even if he did not turn as he was intended to, he could never dream of rivalling my genius.”

“Ah, you disappoint me. I had hoped for something of a family reunion.”

“You cannot expect me to harbour fatherly feelings for a failure such as him.” Verstael's voice bore a hint of annoyance.

“Failure,” Prompto whispered and actively reminded himself not to stop breathing again as the claws of fear dug deeper into his chest once more.

“My bad. I forgot you didn't have feelings at all,” Ardyn said, not even bothering to mask the insult. “At least, none that concern others.”

The minister doubled over for a moment, overwhelmed by the Starscourge running rampant in his body. By the time he managed to straighten up again, the darkness that had lain dormant beneath his skin had broken out and was covering one half of his face with a glossy black substance.

Prompto had not yet realised that Noct's armiger was accessible again, but seeing Ardyn drop his hat into his own armiger and summoning his signature red longsword made it clear that the so-called Wallbreaker Wave must have been disabled in the meantime – most likely thanks to Noct and Ignis.

Ardyn performed a warp-strike from up close, thrusting his blade up to its hilt through Verstael's chest.

The sudden and violent act took Prompto by surprise. Head over heels, he ran for the door leading to the experimentation chamber, not even sure if he wanted Ardyn to stop or just to explain what was going on.

“Prom!” he heard Valyria call after him.

He burst into the room just as the dead body of Verstael dissolved into miasma.

Barely a moment later, the machine in the centre of the chamber whirred to life and the young men in the glass tubes surrounding it were consumed by a black and purple mist. They disappeared in the same manner the minister had.

“Daemonification complete,” the computer voice from earlier spoke up. “Initiating transfer to Unit XDA-1002: Immortalis.”

At the sight of the scene before him, Prompto's breath caught in his throat again. He stumbled backwards. His gaze moved over the machine, the tubes, then the blackened blood staining the floor and, finally, the former Niff Chancellor.

“There you are!” Ardyn grinned at him, opened his arms as though welcoming him and dismissed his blade at the same time. “Have you come to save your maker? I'm afraid it's a little too late for that.”

Before Prompto could stop her, Val rushed past him. She positioned herself between the two of them and summoned her sword, the famous Solferrum, from Noct's armiger. A flicker of recognition passed over Ardyn's face as flames engulfed the blade of Valyria's sword.

“Stay back!” she warned him, hastening her grip on the sword's hilt.

“Do you seriously think your little family heirloom could impress me? I'm immortal, you know.”

“Oh, I'll make sure to cut where it hurts! Wait …” The tension emanating from her subsided for a moment. “How do you know of Solferrum?”

Acting quickly, Prompto grabbed Val by the arm and pulled her back at his side.

“Don't threaten him,” he implored. “You'll just make it worse.”

She gave him a confused look, but Prompto gestured for her to stay back and let him handle the situation. Judging by her expression, it did nothing to ease her worry. Still, Prompto had to talk to Ardyn, and talking really was the only way to keep going. Even if Val had any chance at beating him, Prompto did not want to watch his friends fight.

Mustering up his courage, he stepped forward. “Why, Ardyn?” he asked, trying to bore into the ex-Chancellor's smug facade with a pleading look. “Why are you like this? You were always helping us. You even saved me from Deadeye, don't you remember?”

“Aw, you thought I saved you out of the goodness of my heart, didn't you? Well, here's another terrible truth: I simply didn't want our beloved Prince to cry over spilt milk.”

Prompto had to close his eyes and try his best to pretend his reply had not cut as deep as it did. “Okay, I understand. You don't give a damn about me,” he said and drew a shaky breath. “I'm a nobody, alright, and you always knew. But you care about Noct, and at some point, it felt like that included all of us. You can't tell me all of it was fake.”

The smug smile on Ardyn's face faded to a sceptical frown, revealing a crack in his carefully constructed facade.

It was not that Prompto understood what was going on in Arydn's mind. Some would call him childish, but he firmly refused to believe that the man they had been travelling with for so long suddenly chose to be mean just to watch him suffer. No one was inherently evil, not even the so-called Adagium. “What about …” Prompto continued with growing confidence. “What about that time we all sat around the campfire in the middle of nowhere, laughing, when Iggy discovered you taught Noct how to slip his veggies into his armiger? Was that fake? And, speaking of the armiger, what about that all-nighter we pulled because we were playing armiger bingo with all the random things you collected? And what …? What about those?” Prompto reached into a pocket on the inside of his jacket, grabbed three or four of the photos he had developed back in Altissia and threw them at the former Chancellor.

Ardyn raised an arm in reflex, as though he had expected him to throw a dagger instead. The photos scattered and fell to the floor.

“Are those fake!?”, Prompto shouted at him, feeling tears prick at his eyes again, but he held his ground.

Ardyn bent down to pick up a picture which had landed in front of his boot with the wrong side up. A short glimpse of the right side revealed the bright blue hues of the sky and the sea on a day with perfect lighting, as well as five, dark-dressed figures huddling together for a group picture.

When Ardyn turned the photo, his facade all but crumbled. His brow creased further and his eyes widened in what appeared to be an expression of shock – no, deep-running hurt. It was true what they said. A picture is worth a thousand words, and this one was undeniable proof that Ardyn had been genuinely happy in their company. There was no facade, no smugness, just a smile of great contentment on the face of the middle-aged man standing between Noct and Gladio as he looked at his four companions doing silly poses for the camera.

The moment lasted barely two seconds before Ardyn regained his composure, closed his eyes and turned his head away. With a flick of his wrist, the picture disappeared into his armiger.

Prompto almost laughed out loud in relief, to know that he really did care about them.

“I will not apologize for my actions if that is what you are waiting for.” Ardyn said in a quiet voice. “You wanted the truth and I delivered. I can defy fate, but I cannot deny my nature.”

Yeah, well, perhaps Prompto did not know why he had acted this way, but he had a distinct feeling he knew someone who could help both him and Ardyn with what they were going through. “Come and help us find Noct, Ardyn,” Prompto said. “He made the call to get you out, y'know? Like, he said something along the lines of not wanting the Crystal or the ring, if he can have you instead.”

A more genuine smile tugged at the corners of Ardyn's mouth. “Ah, well, I cannot argue on that.” He picked up the other pictures and held them out to Prompto when the bright white lights of the chamber were replaced by the dim red of emergency lighting. A siren started blaring.

“Not good!” Valyria exclaimed.

Around them, shadows pooled into small puddles of miasma.

“Security breach detected,” the computer voice echoed through the chamber. “Executing lockdown procedure P01-020. Releasing specimens.”

Goblins and similarly small, impish looking daemons emerged from the miasma. Hissing and snarling, they jumped around the three intruders, but kept their distance.

Valyria took out the nearest two goblins in one fell swoop of her burning blade and readied herself to take on more.

However, as Ardyn walked briskly towards the door in the back of the room, the lesser daemons simply moved out of his way. “Do not bother with them,” he instructed her. “You heard what the Lady of the house said. Better make haste, lest this facility will become your tomb.”

She gave him a sceptical look. “Oh, so we're good again, then? Just like that?”

At the sound of her voice, Ardyn paused in front of the door and swivelled his head around. “No one forces you to trust me, my dear.”

He left and Prompto quickly followed, beckoning Valyria to join them as they headed out of the chamber. Both her hesitation and irritation were understandable, given everything she had just learned about their guide.

Once out the door, Ardyn burst into a sprint through the hangar. There were more imps on the stairs leading down to ground level, all of which sought the distance as Ardyn rushed towards them. The same did not apply to the large number of magitek soldiers or to the fully automated MT armours guarding the area. They were greeted with a barrage of bullets and missiles, forcing them to run through the spaces between shipping containers.

While Valyria and Ardyn cut a path through the enemy lines to reach the slowly closing hangar gate – they were not cooperating willingly, but there were enough MTs to go around to not get into each other's way – Prompto felt hesitant to shoot at the soldiers.

He could not help but think back at the men in the tubes, knowing that each MT unit had started out like them, or rather, like him. Their robot bodies still resembled humans. What if there was some shred of humanity left in them? Could he shoot them with a clean conscience?

“Prompto!”

Valyia's voice called him back to reality. He must have spaced out long enough for her to dispose of the soldiers and riflemen. It was easier that she had done it in his stead, but he still felt conflicted about it.

“Coming!” he shouted back, hurrying to catch up with her. In all honesty, he was surprised to see that Ardyn was still leading the way when he could have just disappeared in a puff of miasma and leave them behind. Those photos must have been even more convincing than he had thought.

There were still plenty of daemons and MTs abound by the time they reached the snow mobiles parked in front of the heavy hangar gate. The opening was still wide enough for two of the vehicles to exit side-by-side.

Valyria jumped onto a snow mobile equipped with a machine gun and fired up its engine while Prompto manned the machine gun in the back and held off the MT armour that had come after them.

“Keep going straight until you hit the lakeside,” Ardyn instructed them and took another vehicle. “We shall try to contact your missing party members from there.”

“Noct and Iggy.” Their names escaped Prompto with a breath. Hopefully, they managed to escape on their own. He was about to ask Ardyn whether they should not block the still-open gate and turn back to get them when Valyria hit the throttle and set the snow mobile into motion.

They rushed out of the hangar and into the snow fields, narrowly missing the legs of a MT armour out on patrol. Ardyn followed them at a great distance, but soon disappeared behind squads of MT units and the missiles they fired after Valyria and Prompto.

Chapter Text

“So, just lemme get this straight,” Valyria started and rubbed her bare arms in an obviously futile attempt to warm herself. “Ardyn is, or rather, was, the Chancellor of Niflheim, the Adagium of legend and the older brother of the Founder King?”

She and Prompto sat around the most pathetic campfire he had ever lit, in the centre of a very worn-out looking haven, underneath of a rocky outcrop near the lakeside. The embers were eating through three meagre pieces of wood. Calling it a campfire was a bit of an exaggeration, really, because it provided little to no warmth. For five minutes or so, Prompto had been stoking it with a half-dry twig, but to no avail. He eventually gave up and threw the twig into the embers. It was cold, very cold. He had no idea how Valyria was holding up so well without a jacket. Just like Gladio, she rarely ever complained about the weather.

“The latter is also what makes him Noct's grunkle,” Prompto continued their conversation. “Though he doesn't like being called that. I don't even know why. When he talks about Noct, he says stuff like, my dearest nephew or my beloved nephew. Well, not always, but sometimes.”

He waved his arms around and tried his best to imitate Ardyn's overly dramatical tone, causing both Val and him to chuckle. It felt good, to be able to laugh for a bit when just half an hour ago he had thought he would never laugh again.

The crunching of snow caught their attention. From the lakeside, where they had parked the snowmobile, Ardyn trudged towards them. It appeared as though he had arrived without his vehicle.

“Do you seriously think I would have taken the name Ardyn Izunia if I wanted my connection to the Royal family to be commonly known?”

Prompto waved at the former Chancellor. “Relax, Ardyn! Val's not gonna go around telling people. She's part of the inner circle.”

“So are you, and that's what worries me,” Ardyn replied flatly as he stepped out of the snow and underneath the outcrop. Only at the last moment did he notice the faded runes of the haven. He stopped so abruptly that he nearly stumbled.

“Ah, sorry! Should've warned you,” Prompto hastily said. “I think the haven's pretty much dead, though. See? Nothing's glowing.” Although it was getting late in the afternoon, it was actually still too early for the runes to glow. Even so, most of them had been smoothed out by the harsh climate and were barely recognisable as such.

Yet Ardyn kept his distance. “You will have to excuse me, but I'm not in the mood to take the risk.”

“It's okay. We're coming over.” It was not like sitting around the embers helped much against the cold, anyway. Prompto rose from the ground, and so did Valyria, but unlike him, she did not settle again at the edge of the haven. Instead, she kept pacing around, as if trying to warm up her muscles by moving.

The longer Prompto watched, the colder he got. “Uhm, Val?” he started. “I don't think I've got anything left in Noct's armiger that would help, but I could lend you my jacket?”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she replied. “Not to seem ungrateful, but that'd leave you in the cold, and I think I can handle it a bit better.” Valyria turned around, and, if the glow of Noct's magic was anything to go by, had summoned her sword from the armiger. She held it upright in front of her as though she swearing an oath on it, seemingly waiting or praying for something to happen. Could it be that she was trying to invoke the sword's flames by will?

“And there we have another fine example of just how much the blessed gods above value their delicate creations below,” Ardyn said and gestured over to Valyria, before sitting down opposite of Prompto.

“Shut up,” she bit back, desperately trying to concentrate.

Prompto shot the former Chancellor a questioning look.

“Legend says that the fabled Solferrum was created from the soul of a messenger and thus acts out the will of the divine. Isn't that right?”

Valyria shot him a glance. “How would you even know?”

“This sword has been around longer than I have, my dear,” Ardyn replied nonchalantly.

“Which is saying something,” Prompto added. Most of this particular legend was new to him, but not too surprising, given how they had met messengers and fought gods along their journey. Like, this was pretty much everyday business now. At this point, any mystical, magical sword was, quite literally, just another to add to the collection.

“Here. Take this and stop shivering,” In one motion, Ardyn summoned a black piece of clothing from his armiger and threw it over to Valyria. “We wouldn't want the Prince to find you frozen like the Glacian's hollow corpse, do we?”

She dropped Solferrum back into the armiger, caught the coat and unfolded it in front of her. “Isn't that Crownsguard attire from the early days of King Regis' reign? I think my dad owned one of these from back when he used to train with the Crownsguard.”

Prompto, too, had recognized the colour and style, if not the age, but it still begged one question: “How did that get into your armiger?”

The former Chancellor's expression turned sour again. “Have you ever heard of the expression not to look a gift chocobo in the beak?”

“Another terrible truth, huh?”

Ardyn's glare in return was enough to confirm his suspicion.

In the meantime, Valyria had put on the coat, which was a little too big for her size, but at least it had long sleeves and probably did a much better job warding off the cold than just her tank top. Out of the corner of his eye, Prompto thought he saw a small red stain on the hem of the coat. Blood, perhaps, from a fight? He quickly pushed the thought out of his mind, trying to heed Ardyn's warning this time.

Once Valyria had settled on the ground next to him, he could almost feel another uncomfortable silence coming on, by courtesy of the former Chancellor. “Can I ask just one teensy thing, though?”, Prompto addressed Ardyn. “What happened to your snowmobile?”

“Oh, that old thing? We went separate ways, so to speak.”

#-#-#

Noctis had, quite literally, a blast destroying the machine that had suppressed his Royal magic. On their way through the auxiliary building of the facility, they had stumbled across several boxes of prototype grenades. While they had not been able to take all of them without access to the armiger, just a few grenades turned out to be more than enough to make sure they were not leaving the facility without a bang.

Finding the machine in question proved to be no challenge. The closer they got, the heavier stasis wore on Noctis. – Until they blew the damn thing up, of course, and parts of the major control unit along with it. It had taken several minutes for the A.I. controlling the complex to react and send the infantry after them.

So much for Iggy’s plan to remain undetected. In all honesty, though, if that part of the strategy would have gone perfectly, it would have been a first. They were just no good at keeping quiet. Thankfully, the delay between the explosion and the blaring of the siren had been long enough for them to find an escape vehicle. While Ignis manoeuvred the snowmobile out of the building, Noctis sent his full arsenal of Royal Arms ahead to punch a hole into the perimeter fence, and they fled from the growing numbers of MT units and armours coming after them. Although they had not been able to find Ardyn or reunite with Prompto, at least they had caused a large diversion and a fair amount of damage.

Their escape route led them through the snowfields, past patrolling MT armours, rocky terrain and sparse forests, until the view into the distance cleared and a lake appeared before them. Ignis, ever observant, spotted another snowmobile parked by the shore, and quickly theorised that Prompto must have taken it, though he also criticised that, if they could find it, so could the MTs. In theory, anyway. Noctis thought it rather unlikely that one of them travelled as far from the facility as they had. Consequently, Ignis parked their snowmobile next to the other.

The faded tracks of not two, but three pairs of feet guided them to an aged haven nearby, at the edge of which sat Prompto, Ardyn and … „Val!“ Noctis exclaimed in surprise.

Overjoyed at seeing him and Ignis, Prompto practically jumped to his feet and ran towards them. Val was quick to follow him, while Ardyn just about bothered to get up and walk over.

„Noct!“ Prompto called out to him.

„You found Valyria. That’s awesome!“ Noctis bumped arms with Val in celebration of their reunion – just like they had celebrated their victories back at Insomnia, on the rare occasions they had defeated Gladio in training.

„I’m glad to see you too, Your Highness,“ she replied, addressing him by the title in a jokingly, but not disrespectful manner.

„Our forces grow stronger by the day,“ Ignis remarked with a chuckle to his voice.

Noctis’ gaze shifted from Val to the former Chancellor standing behind Prompto. „Hey, Ardyn. Good to have you back.“

An amused smile tugged at the corners of Ardyn’s mouth. „Please, you shouldn’t have come all this way just for little old me.“

„No big deal.“ Noctis shrugged and turned his attention to where Prompto and the others had sat, expecting a makeshift camp, only to find the remains of a pitiful campfire. Right. Most of their equipment was stored in Gladio’s part of the armiger, which meant they needed either him or Noctis to retrieve it. But, first things first. Noctis had to contact Aranea to come and get them, preferably before night fell. Not because of the daemons, but simply because he was not looking forward to spending the night on the cold, hard earth. „Now that we’re back together, let’s see how quickly Aranea can get us out of here.“

Just as he got his phone out, Prompto stepped forward, and he was looking a lot more nervous than usual. „Actually, Noct,“ he began, „there’s something I need to tell you.“ He exchanged a glance with Val as though he needed some reassurance to keep talking.

A twinge of worry rose within Noctis at the sight. „Uhm, just me or …?“ He knew Prompto could get a bit anxious when in danger, but this was clearly something else.

„No, I want Iggy to hear this, too. Gladio as well, but he’ll have to wait.“ Prompto spoke with a semblance of determination shining from his eyes, though his lip was quivering. „You see, I’m not …“ He took a deep breath. „I’m not from Insomnia. Not even from Lucis, actually. I’m from Niflheim, and – Ha! Guess what? – Worse yet, I was not born, but made. One of thousands, to be turned into an MT, in that very same facility we’ve just been through.“

„It didn’t come to the worst because the Crownsguard saved him,“ Valyria added in his stead.

Somehow, Noctis failed to imagine how a human could be turned into a MT unit. He had taken apart enough MTs in battle to know that there was nothing inside that bled, but judging by the look on Prompto’s face, he did well not to ask for details. The revelation in itself, while surprising, concerned Noctis nowhere near as much as seeing his best friend so shaken by self-doubt and insecurity. If Noctis had learnt anything over the course of their crazy journey, it was that no one’s fate was set in stone at the moment of their birth. By extension, the circumstances of one’s birth did not matter, either. They could still shape their own fate, and thus, themselves, through the choices they made.

„Okay, that’s pretty crazy,“ Noctis said, trying his best not to sound inconsiderate. „But where you come from doesn’t make who you are, right? You’ve worked hard to get where you are now, so don’t act like that was nothing. If that bit about your past troubles you, then just, try not to think too much about it, alright?“

„Or be all the more proud of who you’ve become today,“ Ignis suggested.

„Yeah, or do that,“ Noctis agreed. „In any case, you’re not worth any less just because you’re not from Lucis, if that’s what got you so worried. Thinking that Insomnians would be better, than say, Niffs, is just plain stupid. I chose you to accompany me to Altissia because you’re my friend. Not because of where you’re from.“

„But would you’ve still chosen me even if you’d known what a mess I am? You know, I try to be cheerful, but sometimes …“

„Dude, no one can be cheerful all the time. That’s just impossible,“ Noctis argued. „Seriously, don’t be so hard on yourself.“

„Aw, man.“ His friend bit his lip as if trying to hide the smile that was creeping onto his face.

Val nudged him with an elbow. „See? I told you it’d be fine.“

Prompto took another deep breath, exhaled in relief, and could no longer hold back on the grin. „Thanks, guys.“

„Oh, and one more thing,“ Noctis hastily added. „You’ve already escaped your fate, right? I mean, you weren’t made into a MT. So you’re practically way ahead of me and Ardyn.“

„If only it were that easy,“ Ardyn remarked and put a hand to his hip. Throughout their entire conversation he had not once looked so interested, and even now he spoke with an annoyed tone. „I very much doubt that a one-year-old MT-to-be had much say in the changing of its own fate.“

„Don’t go ruining this moment, Ardyn,“ Noctis asked of him, but quickly reconsidered. „Actually, wait. Are you saying you had a hand in saving Prompto?“ It would have come as no surprise, considering how much of their journey the Niff Chancellor had orchestrated from behind the scenes, even long before they had set out from Insomnia.

Ardyn shook his head in disappointment. „Now, now, Noctis. You are seeing things that aren’t there.“

„I didn’t hear a no,“ Noctis noted.

„Oh, but you did.“

„Fine, whatever.“

Noctis took out his phone again and finally hit Aranea’s number. It rang for quite a while. Once the connection was established, he was greeted by the sounds of scraping metal and roaring fire. Noctis cast a confused glance over to Ignis, though his long-time advisor could hardly provide an explanation.

„Bad timing, Prince,“ Aranea’s voice broke through the chaotic noise. „Where are you?“

„Back at Gralea on short notice, trying to get those damn tin heads under control. Think you can hold out a little longer?“ Through the background noise, Noctis heard Biggs and Wedge call out for her.

Spending the night in a warm, soft bed no longer seemed as important, when people were fighting for their lives elsewhere. „Yeah, we’ll manage,“ Noctis replied. „I’ll send you our location. Just come and pick us up when you can.“

„Will do, pretty boy.“

It was probably for the better that she hung up quickly. Noctis had learned the hard way not to fight with a phone in hand.

„I may assume we’re setting up camp, then?“ Ignis asked.

In response, Noctis summoned a camping chair from his armiger and gave it to Prompto. „Looks like it.“

Valyria clasped her hands together as if she had just heard the first good news in ages. „Please tell me you’re going to cook for us, Iggy. That stuff the Niffs gave me didn’t even deserve to be called food. I could just about die for a proper meal!“

„And a proper meal it shall be,“ Ignis affirmed. „How does a bowl of Garden Curry sound to you?“

Her entire face lit up. „You’re the best.“

Noctis could not share her excitement at the prospect of a vegetarian meal. Of course, he could shovel his veggies onto Val’s plate, like he used to do, but that would leave him with nothing but rice, and besides, Iggy still remembered him slipping his greens into the armiger, so he was going to need a lot of luck to trick him again in general.

Ignis turned to the former Chancellor. „Will you be joining us, Ardyn?“

While Prompto had begun setting up the chairs, Ardyn had somehow lost interest in their conversation and company altogether, and was staring absent-mindedly into the distance with an unusually sombre expression. „No, I’ll pass,“ he replied, briefly raising a hand as if to dismiss Ignis.

It was not so much his decline as his overall demeanour that made Noctis wonder whether something else had happened at the facility. Surely, the discovery that MTs were made from humans could shatter a stronger mind than Prompto’s, but not Ardyn’s. He had helped with the research. – Unless that had been another lie by the Niff media.

Naturally, Ignis had also noticed that something was up and shot Noctis a knowing look as if to nudge him to take care of the problem before he walked off to help Prompto and Valyria set up camp.

So Noctis had to find out for himself what was going on with Ardyn. A problem that would definitely be easier to solve if he just told him like Prompto had, but that was about as likely as Cid giving them a discount the next time they rolled in the Regalia dented and smoking. Sighing, Noctis put both hands on his hips and turned to his distant relative. „Spill it, Ardyn.“

The taller man cast him a confused look. „Excuse me?“ At the very least, Noctis had managed to break his train of thought.

„Listen, I don’t know what happened to you back at the facility, but if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help.“

„Your concern is truly commendable, but I am beyond your help,“ Ardyn said, scoffing at him.

Noctis crossed his arms in front of his chest. „Try me.“

„You might want to ask your friend Prompto about what happens to those who keep prying into certain matters.“

It was a threat. Which kind of threat, Noctis did not know, meaning that it hardly frightened him. „I’ll take the risk. At this point, you’ll have to try hard to scare me. We’re both doomed to die, Lucis was founded upon the burnt corpses of its people, and my father threw his life away, so how much worse can it get?“

„Oh, you have no idea.“

„Has that crazy minister been experimenting on you?“

„No,“ Ardyn replied hastily, seemingly surprised by the question. „He did little else but pester me with his presence.“

„Then what is it? Talk to me, man. Seriously, you’re freaking me out with all this brooding.“

„I’m not brooding,“ he said as if it were not obvious.

„’Course you are.“

Ardyn glared at him in annoyance. „Noct.“

„Please?“

The pleading tone seemed to do the trick. With a heavy sigh, Ardyn finally gave in and when he spoke again, he spoke in a notably quieter voice. „When I said you shouldn’t have gotten me out, I meant it just so.“

„You’re kidding,“ Noctis claimed. „You wanted to stay imprisoned?“

„That’s not what I said. Noctis, I know you’re mistaking me for some kind of saint, but there is more truth to the legend of the Adagium than I led you to believe.“

Noctis could not help but chuckle. „Oh, no one’s mistaking you for a saint, trust me.“ he clarified and received a surprised look from Ardyn in return.

„Please, do enlighten me.“

„No offence, but you’re being an ass most of the time. Still, that doesn’t make you a bad person, you know?“

„You see, that is where you’re mistaken. I barely classify as a person to begin with, I’m afraid.“ Ardyn glanced over to the rest of their party before turning to walk out into the snowfields. „Come. Since you’re so keen to listen, I shall tell you a tale.“

By the look of it, Noctis had to follow him out into the wilderness to hear what he had to say. So he did.

„Hey, Noct. You want one of us to come with?“ Apparently, Valyria had noticed the two of them leaving the campsite. As a sword to the future king, it was in her best interest not to let him wander off into enemy territory without a guard, yet Noctis felt no need for additional back-up, even if they ran into MTs.

„Nah. It’ll be fine, Val,“ he replied and hurried after Ardyn.

It had been pretty clear from the start that Ardyn had no particular destination in mind. He was merely leading them away from the campsite, out of hearing range and out of sight of the others, too. The nature around them was silent, any sound muffled by the snow and any movement slowed by the chill of permanent winter. It was a surprisingly peaceful sight, considering that the landscape belonged to a nation known for war and conquest.

Ardyn stopped to let Noctis catch up. „Not too long ago,“ he began, „there used to be a great and prosperous kingdom, which was led by a king who was the last of a long and noble line. One day, the King decided to hold a festival in honour to the greatest feats of his most revered ancestor: The founding of the kingdom and the slaying of a monster.“

Immediately, the Founder’s Day festival came to Noct’s mind. He had not thought of it since they had left Insomnia, but now that he did, a lot of puzzle pieces fell into place. Although the festival had taken place a few years before he had been born, he knew from the Citadel’s records that there had been a Niff attack and that his father had been severely wounded in battle. Given what he had learned about Ardyn, it only made sense that such an event, especially one in honour to Somnus, would arouse his anger at the other end of Eos.

A shiver ran down Noctis’ spine. „I think I know where this is going …“

Ardyn shot him a cold look. „Oh, would you like to tell the story? Please, go on, then. I’m curious to hear your version of it.“

„Sorry,“ Noctis hastily replied. „I’ll keep quiet.“

Ardyn turned towards the lake in the distance. „Unbeknownst to the King,“ he continued, „news of the celebration spread to the warring nation, where a monster of legend lay waiting. Although it had lost all purpose to live after its defeat, foreign warriors had been whispering to it, tempting it to fight once more. Thus, it was biding its time, building its strength and plotting revenge on the Royal family whose ancestor had wronged it. Up until the day of the festival in honour to said ancestor arrived.“

Ardyn spread his arms and gestured to the trees around them as though they were buildings, and for a moment, Noctis thought he saw the shimmer of an illusion.

„Oh, you should have been there! All the streets were decorated. People were rejoicing, praising the name of their so-called hero of yore, oh so blissfully unaware of the crimes committed by the hand that led the quill across the papers of history. Such cheer and joy could only be borne from living a life in ignorance of the darkness that plagued the world beyond the walls of their home. In its anger, the monster of legend sought to end it all. Civilians died in the flames of battle, and many, many more of the king’s men were felled that day as they tried to stop the monster’s advance. The road to the King’s palace turned into a trail of fire and destruction. Only when the King himself lay dying at the monster’s feet, did the heavens open and the god of the kingdom descend to put an end to the rampage. He sent the monster far away with a promise: It shall return on a predestined day, chosen by the very same god, to sacrifice itself and the King in battle for the sake of the world. For such was the god’s idea of a grand tale to be told. Until then, the god stood watch at the capital to prevent all interference, awaiting the day of the ultimate sacrifice.“ Apart from a little personal touch at the end, Ardyn had presented this story of monsters and men in the detached manner one would expect from a storyteller, not from a man confessing his crimes. But it was just that. A confession told without as much as a trace of guilt.

Noctis gulped, trying to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat while he was piecing together what kind of destruction Ardyn had caused, just out of anger and spite. For years, he had assumed that the attack at the Founder’s Day festival had involved a significant part of the Niff army, when in reality, it had been just one man, or rather a one-man-army, in the form of Ardyn. Noctis waited another moment, just to see if he was going to offer a different, perhaps better sounding, conclusion, but the moment of silence dragged on. „Is that all?“ Noctis asked eventually.

„Were you expecting a happy ending? I’m afraid this isn’t that kind of story.“

„Okay, but why did you tell me all this? I mean, what’s the point of it?“

Ardyn put a hand to his forehead. „Oh dear me, do I really have to spell it out for you? I want you to question that unreasonable amount of faith you place in me.“

„Do you really think so little of yourself?“

„That is besides the point,“ Ardyn claimed. He looked irritated by Noct’s attempt to drive the conversation into a different direction.

„No, that’s the whole point.“ Noctis locked eyes with him. „You’re asking me what I think of you killing dozens of Crownsguard members at the Founder Day’s festival and nearly ending my father’s life? Well, obviously, I can’t say I’m happy to hear it! But I get it. I get why you did it. The Niffs got you out, they wanted you to fight for them, and you had a damn good reason to. I’m going to take a wild guess here and say that Somnus killed the same if not more people back in your time. Except he got a fancy title and a kingdom and you’ve had to serve your sentence for something you didn’t do - or something you did eons later, whichever way you want to look at it. The way I see it, you’ve still suffered more than enough already.“

The firmness with which Noctis spoke seemed to wipe the irritation from Ardyn’s face, leaving him with a stunned expression. Perhaps he was not used to hearing people’s honest opinions.

„And you’ve done a bunch of good things in the not so distant past, too,“ Noctis continued. „Go ahead and call me naive for thinking you’re not half the risk everyone’s saying you are, but if it wasn’t for you, I’d still be bumbling along to Bahamut’s plan like some idiot, Niflheim would’ve destroyed the only evidence that the treatment of the scourge is even possible, and Luna would be either dead or a daemon by now. The reason you attacked me at Altissia was because you took the scourge from her, right? So you’ve practically redeemed yourself already. Don’t go talking about yourself like you’re some kind of monster. You’re a human with some strange powers attached, like any Lucis Caelum.“

In an obvious attempt to hide his expression, Ardyn pulled the brim of his hat down to his eyes and turned his head away. Still, there was the unmistakable quiver of a thousand barely contained emotions flickering across his face.

It became quiet again, and Noctis began to wonder if he had somehow broken him.

„You know,“ Ardyn said eventually. „I might – just might – be able to accept you as Lucis’ first rightful ruler.“

A feeling of pride engulfed Noctis’ heart. „I’ll take that as a compliment.“

Ardyn threw his head back and laughed. „Oh, you absolutely should!“ he exclaimed and looked back at him, grinning. „You see, if anyone asks, we never had this conversation.“

„Right, of course,“ Noctis agreed, glad to see Ardyn back in his comfort zone of little tricks and schemes. For a moment, he considered thanking Ardyn for opening up to him in the first place, but he was not so sure the old man could take any more appreciation without tearing up. Noctis knew the feeling. He was not too good with all this touchy-feely stuff himself, but Ardyn? If honest praise left him any more vulnerable, chances were, anyone could straight up kill him by throwing him a birthday party.

Adagium, my ass, Noctis thought. So much for the monster of legend. Also, note to self: figure out Ardyn’s birthday and get back at him for his constant teasing.

„Let’s return to the others,“ he suggested. „You’re gonna see through what you started, right? When we come face to face with Bahamut, I’m expecting you to be there and take the first swing at him.“

„It wouldn’t behove me to let down your expectations, now, would it?“

Noctis began to follow their own tracks in the snow back to the camp.

„Say, how many Royal Arms do you have in your possession now?“ Ardyn asked as they walked.

„Twelve,“ Noctis replied, but quickly reconsidered. „No, thirteen. I keep forgetting your sword.“ And thinking of it, there was another Royal Arm he had almost forgotten. „This reminds me …“ He stopped again to summon the Blade of the Mystic and present it to Ardyn. „Gladio took this from you in Altissia. I wasn’t sure if you wanted it back.“

„Ah, how considerate of you.“ At first, it looked like he was going to take it, but after a moment’s hesitation, he gently pushed the long sword back into Noctis’ arms. „On second thought, keep it. My brother’s sword only caused a lot of bad blood to boil. It shall serve you better than me.“

Somehow, this was not the reaction Noctis had hoped for. He looked down at the intricate geometric patterns adorning the blade, trying to figure out what to do with it other than to let it collect figurative dust in his armiger.

At about that moment, the earth began to tremble. The most likeliest culprit, the Archaean, was nowhere to be seen, and Noctis did not feel the presence of the Astral, either. All around of him and Ardyn, the trees were shaking. Formations of rocks were breaking and falling apart. A deep rumble echoed across the snowfields. In the distance, a giant mechanical monstrosity rose out of the earth. It resembled a metal worm, except that there were several drills surrounding its head, with a red glowing magitek core in the centre of each. It was, by far, the largest magitek creation Noctis had ever seen. Large enough to dwarf even some of the Astrals.

„And I was just wondering what was taking him so long,“ Ardyn thought out loud as the two of them watched the giant magitek unit rise in the distance.

„Who?“ Noctis asked.

„Why, the Minister, of course! Or, what’s left of him and his megalomania, anyway.“ Ardyn took a step back, spread his arms and simultaneously summoned his collection of Royal Arms, as well as a few regular swords. The magic surrounding him surged until an invisible force lifted him off the ground. „If you’d care to join me, Your Highness, I daresay we will be done in time for dinner.“

Noctis crossed his arms. „Hate to disappoint, but I can’t use that kind of power for the duration of an entire fight. Not without Luna’s help.“

As Ardyn slowly drifted higher, he dropped his hat into the armiger with one hand and retrieved his signature long sword with the other. „When was the last time you actually tried?“

„Uhm.“ There had not been any bigger fights since Noctis had taken on the Hydrean. He had fought in the depths of Fodina Caestino, of course, but not called upon all of the Royal Arms at once. The increase in magic with the addition of Somnus’ sword and the Katana of the Warrior had been noticeable, however. Noctis reached out to the side, summoning his arsenal of Royal Arms but kept the Blade of the Mystic in hand. Moments like this made him endlessly grateful not to be the only living person with the Power of Kings. „Thanks, uncle.“

In a theatrical display, Ardyn put a hand to his chest. „Oh, be still, my aching heart! You’re hurting an old man’s feelings with that kind of familiarity, you know?“

„I think you’ll live.“

Needless to say, Noctis and Ardyn made short work of the magitek monstrosity. In a flurry of azure and crimson Royal Arms, they descended upon the machine, each from a different angle. And while there was apparently no hidden power to the blades of the Caelum brothers, the combined magical force of two people of Royal blood in itself was devastating. The magitek unit had already sustained a great deal of damage by the time an Astral offered divine assistance from beyond. Not Ramuh, not Shiva. Not Titan, either. And definitely not Leviathan. No, it was the Infernian that appeared in a burst of flames atop the machine. Ardyn signalled Noctis to stay back and so he drifted back down to the ground while the magic of his armiger still surrounded him. The two of them simply stood and watched from a safe distance as Ifrit sliced the already weakened machine god into burning pieces. On occasion, one of the magitek cores exploded.

Noctis could not help but think that Ifrit must have had some kind of personal interest in killing this thing.

„Would you believe that the Minister had nicknamed this, his masterpiece, Immortalis?“ Ardyn asked eventually.

Burning machine or not, it was still cold. Noctis shoved his hands into his pants’ pockets. „Kinda ironic, I guess.“

Chapter Text

Aranea stayed true to her word and picked them up the next morning. After spending the night with only a campfire for warmth, Noctis gladly boarded the heated airship. The prince and his companions spent the flight to Tenebrae in the cargo bay, warming up and changing back into their all-weather gear. This excluded, of course, Ardyn, who always looked comfortable walking around in a dozen layers of clothing, and Valyria, who had not been equipped for ice and snow to begin with. She took the time aboard the airship to trade the old Crownsguard coat for a black leather jacket that Aranea had been kind enough to part with. Apparently, the two of them had a similar taste in casual fashion.

„You sure you wanna give me this?“ Valyria asked as she tried on the jacket. Even though Aranea was a bit taller, it seemed to fit her perfectly.

„Don’t mention it,“ Aranea replied, smiling. „You need it more than I. Besides, it doesn’t look like I’ll get to change out of my armour anytime soon.“ The Dragoon had left the piloting to her subordinates Biggs and Wedge, and leaned against the doorframe of the open door to the cockpit to talk to her rag-tag team of passenger. Just like many other transport ships of the Empire, hers too, lacked windows in the cargo bay, but, judging by the time that had passed since their departure, they had not yet left the Niflheim tundra.

„I’m probably gonna regret asking …“ Aranea spoke to all of them, but shot Noctis a quick sideways glance. „But what was up with that charred metal worm in the middle of the snowfields?“ It was no wonder that she asked. The giant magitek unit must have been pretty hard to miss from above. Or below, for that matter.

„That was the minister,“ Noctis explained.

Her brows creased in light confusion. „One of Besithia’s creations?“

„Yeah, that too, but also Besithia himself, if that makes any sense to you.“ Truth be told, Noctis was in no position to explain the details. He still had not figured out how the Minister had managed to transfer his soul or conscience or whatever into the machine. Ardyn had told him that personality fragments retained during daemonification had something to do with it, but that had only opened up more questions. Frankly though, with or without the Minister in it, the sheer size and power of that magitek unit had been reason enough for Noctis to help his distant uncle take it down.

Aranea shrugged in response. „Nope, doesn’t make sense to me, but if it’s a problem I don’t have to take care of, it’s alright with me.“

Her remark earned a chuckle from Prompto. It was good to see him smile. For a bit, Noctis had been worried his trip to the magitek production facility had left some lasting damage to his optimism. „You’re pretty much done with the Empire, huh?“ Prompto asked Aranea.

„You have no idea, Blondie. Funny that you put it that way, though, seeing how the Empire’s kinda done with itself.“

That got Ignis’ attention as well. „What’s that supposed to mean?“

„Haven’t you heard the latest from the capital yet? Apparently, the Emperor’s gone missing.“

„Missing?“ Prompto repeated.

She tilted her head to him. „You know what that means, right?“

There was a moment of silence as most of Noct’s party exchanged clueless glances.

„I fear our Lucian friends are not familiar with Gralean expressions,“ Ardyn piped up from a corner of the cargo bay. „Be a dear and explain what happened, will you, Commodore?“

She gave him a mildly annoyed look. „Why don’t you explain it? Talking’s all you do, right?“

„And I’ve done a lot of talking, that much is true, but I believe our companions will appreciate listening to someone else for a change.“

„Yeah, I bet they do!“ Aranea gave a short laugh before turning back to Noctis and his entourage with a more serious tone of voice. „When they say that the Emperor’s gone missing, it means that the Emperor has succumbed to the Starscourge. In Gralea, they count the spread of the Starscourge in the number of disappearances rather than cases of infection.“

„So they’re counting the deceased instead of the ill?“ Valyria summarized.

„It is a means to make the matter seem less grave than it is,“ Ardyn casually elaborated. „To stifle the panic among the populace.“

Ignis shook his head in disapproval. „More window dressing by the Empire, is what it is.“

„Woah, wait a minute!“ Prompto exclaimed. „If the Emperor’s dead that means the Empire’s all done for, right? Lucis has won.“ A look of excitement spread on his face, but Ignis put a quick end to any thoughts of celebration.

„Not quite. Although I’ve heard that the Emperor’s only son died in the war, I suspect that there are measurements in place in case of Aldercapt’s untimely demise. Thus, it will be only a matter of time until someone succeeds him.“

„I wonder …“ Ardyn mumbled, looking thoughtful, but the former Commodore paid him no mind.

„Whoever that’ll be, Gralea’s gonna be in a state of total chaos until then.“

„So there’s really no one left who would take immediate control?“ Noctis wondered aloud. „What about the Imperial commanders?“

„Well, the General died during the invasion of Insomnia, we all know what happened to Ulldor at Altissia, Loqi lacks the backbone to command an entire nation, and Ravus …“

„Right, Ravus was headed to Gralea, too,“ Noctis reminded himself. Chances were that they were going to run into Ravus again sooner or later. After all, he still had the Ring of the Lucii in his possession and thought he had a divine calling to fulfil. But there was no telling whose side he was going to pick the next time they met.

„Last I heard of the High Commander,“ Aranea continued, „he had an audience with Aldercapt, but he’s vanished from the public eye since.“

„Oh dear,“ Ardyn exclaimed, wearing a feigned look of surprise. „With his Excellency gone, I fear our good Ravus might be a little overwhelmed with his newfound freedom of choice.“

„Hasn’t he been free to make his own decisions ever since he acquired the Ring and half of the Empire’s military?“ Noctis asked and received a smile from Ardyn in return.

„You seem to forget that he has served the Empire for twelve, long years. Any choice he ever made in his life has been influenced by someone else. In very, very subtle ways, sometimes. Even when he thought he was free, he was still carrying out the will of others.“

To Noctis, there was little doubt that the aforementioned others also included Ardyn. He gave him a hard, knowing look, whereas Aranea just chuckled.

„That’s why I’m glad I played no part in politics.“

Ardyn shrugged. „It’s no secret, really. Ravus is like a notched arrow on a bow. Point him into a direction and pull on his string. It’s so easy, anyone could do it.“

„Perhaps it would be a good idea to continue to Gralea,“ Ignis suggested. „If the city’s still in turmoil as Aranea said, it could give us an advantage in a confrontation with Ravus.“

Noctis shook his head. „Let’s check in with Gladio and Luna first. They’ve probably got new intel to share and Ravus might be more willing to talk if Luna’s with us.“ Out of the corner of his eye, Noctis noticed Ardyn glancing his way, and the former Chancellor’s smile widened just a touch. He might be imagining it, but it seemed to him as though Ardyn approved of his decision and the way he had presented it instead of criticising him like usual.

They reached Tenebrae by midday without interference. In the meantime, Noctis had texted Gladio to find out where he and Luna were staying, and received a message in response, reading „Just come to Fenestala Manor“, accompanied by two winking and one grinning emoji. Thus, Aranea had ordered Biggs and Wedge to fly the extra mile from the train station to Fenestala Manor and drop them off just outside of the gardens in the middle of the lush green, seemingly floating islands in the heart of Tenebrae. Numerous plant roots and bridges with blue roofs connected the masses of earth to the surrounding mountains in such a way that it was near impossible to tell whether they were suspended by magic or not. Central piece of the islands was Fenestala Manor, which loomed large before them, with its walls, towers and spires made of white stone. It consisted of at least five floors, connected to different islands at various levels of height.

As his friends left the airship, Noctis stayed behind to exchange a few parting words with Aranea. „You know, you’re welcome to join us permanently, any time you like,“ he offered.

„You were going after the Draconian, right?“ She shrugged at him. „Sorry, pretty boy, but I don’t play in the god felling league.“

Ignis, who had stopped just a few steps away to wait for Noctis, adjusted his glasses. „Didn’t you say that the thrill of danger makes life interesting?“

She scoffed. „Hey, don’t get me wrong. I’m all for challenging the impossible, but I’ve also got my men to look after.“

There had not been much time for Noctis to explain to her what they were planning to do or why, and he mostly blamed Bahamut for making his schemes so damn hard to understand. The gist of the matter was, of course, that Bahamut was a huge jerk and needed to be put into place, but then again, taking down Bahamut was turning out to be a much taller order than, say, taking down Shiva had been for the Niffs. Not to mention that the Niffs did not succeed in killing Shiva, and Noctis still lacked a solid battle plan to begin with. Yet despite of all this, he had a feeling that Aranea might come around in time.

„Think it over,“ Noctis suggested and stepped off the lowered tailgate. „If you change your mind, just gimme a call.“

The determination with which he spoke seemed to surprise her. „Look who’s grown an attitude,“ she said. „Fine, I’ll give it some more thought.“ Aranea turned to walk into the depths of the cargo bay, but Ardyn held her up before she could disappear from view.

„One last thing, Commodore!“ He waved at her from the garden. „Take it as a friendly piece of advice from one Imperial to another: There is a girl by the name of Solara Antiquum somewhere in Gralea. If you could find her and her mother alive, and have someone form an emergency government around them, – preferably someone with a shred of competence, – it should restore some stability to the Empire.“

Aranea gave him a questioning look. „What’s so special about her?“

„Rumour has it she is the Emperor’s best-kept secret,“ the former Chancellor explained. „A not-so-distant relative of his Excellency, perchance?“

Suspicion mixed into her expression. „You know I couldn’t care less for politics. Never have. Never will.“

He shrugged in return. „Like I said; It is merely a friendly piece of advice. Take it or leave it, the choice is entirely yours. I might do it myself, but you see, I’m a dead man to the Empire and it wouldn’t behove me to rise from the grave so soon after my execution.“

„Of course.“

She pressed the button to raise the tailgate and walked off through the door to the cockpit, leaving Noctis and his four party members to watch her airship take off.

„She is going to look for the girl, isn’t she?“ Ignis asked Ardyn.

„Somebody is bound to look for the girl eventually,“ he replied, chuckling. „Such a rare and valuable piece of information has a tendency to put many wheels into motion. I may assume that it will haunt the Commodore in every waking minute unless she either acts on it or passes it on to someone who will.“

„Definitely not a saint,“ Noctis mumbled to himself. With a quiet sigh and an eye-roll, he turned around and began the long walk to Fenestala Manor.

The manor’s garden was composed of fields of brilliant blue Sylleblossoms, as well as a stone-flagged path leading straight up to the lowest floors of the main building. Not five minutes after they had begun walking, Prompto had taken out his camera and begun to snap pictures of the sea of flowers. In his excitement, he had run ahead, but suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

„Uh, guys?“

The lifeless and broken armours of magitek soldiers lay scattered to either side of the path. Prompto hesitated to walk past a pile of discarded riflemen, but Valyria ushered him gently forward once she had caught up to him. „They are not you,“ she reminded him quietly.

„I-I know,“ he replied and seemingly snapped out of his thoughts. „I was just wondering what could’ve happened.“

„Isn’t it rather obvious?“ Ignis replied. „There has been a fight at the manor. Quite recently, too.“

Prompto turned back to the rest of them with a look of worry. „You think Gladio and Luna are alright?“

„I guess so.“ Noctis shrugged. „Gladio was the one who asked us to come here, after all.“ Still, Noctis found himself a little worried at the sight of the MTs, too. There was no way that Luna and Gladio had laid low as they said they would when Luna’s home had come under attack.

It was not long until they came across a few of house Fleuret’s retainers, who were dragging more broken MTs out of the manor. An old woman who said she recognised the Prince from his stay at Fenestala Manor twelve years ago, offered to lead the five of them to where Lady Lunafreya and Gladio were waiting. Noctis did not remember her, but not everyone he had met back then had stood out like Luna, Ravus, their mother Sylva, or Ardyn.

Despite of the destruction and refurbishing the manor had gone through in the last decade, its interior had lost none of the grandness that Noctis remembered. Walls of white marble were accentuated by blue curtains and carpets, as well as the occasional gold ornament along the windows. Vases with Sylleblossoms stood to either side of each door. They passed the portraits of former Oracles as they walked through the corridors, though Noctis saw none that he recognised. In some places, retainers of house Fleuret were still removing torn curtains, broken vases and other traces of the recent battle.

„So this is where they created the original Memory Lane Pastry,“ Ignis mused, taking in the interior design with curious looks. It was his first visit to the manor. Although he had been Noctis’ friend and retainer even before Noct had been injured by the Marilith daemon, Regis had travelled to Tenebrae without him. Back then, Noctis had not understood why Iggy had not been allowed to come with them, but he eventually figured out that his dad had needed to make the trip with as few people as possible to avoid the Empire’s attention.

„By the way,“ Valyria said and snapped him out of his thoughts, „did you ever find that missing ingredient, Noct?“

„Yup. Ulwaat Berries. That’s what it was. We found a guy near Cape Caem who’d trade ’em for those stinking carrots.“

„The carrots that must not be named,“ Ignis added, causing Valyria to grin.

„Yea, those.“ Noctis could not think of any better use for the detested vegetable than to trade it away for the key ingredient to his favourite pastry.

But if the pastry alone took him on a stroll down memory lane, then Fenestala Manor was like a rush down the memory highway. Noctis vividly remembered days spent exploring every nook and cranny of the manor with Luna by his side, pushing him around in his wheelchair. In contrast, the pain he had been in was all but forgotten. Of course, his injury had forced him to rest a lot, and sometimes, he had not been allowed to leave the bed, but then Luna had stayed by his bedside and told him all sorts of fantastical legends about the gods and their messengers. But it was not just the time with Luna that he held in good memory. Regis, too, had played with him whenever Noctis had asked. At the Citadel, where his kingly duties had kept him on a tight schedule, his dad had rarely found the time. He had also gifted Noct a small figurine of Carbuncle, the small, fox-like High Messenger, who had appeared in his dreams to protect him from nightmares and help with his recovery. On rare occasions, Carbuncle still visited him today.

Looking back on it, his stay at the manor might have been the happiest time of his life. A time that had been brought to a very abrupt and bloody end by Niflheim’s invasion, yet even between Sylva’s death and the destruction of the manor, Noctis found something worth remembering. If it had not been for the invasion, he would not have met Ardyn, or rather, he would have been far less inclined to see the Niff Chancellor as anything other than an enemy twelve years later.

They eventually arrived at the entrance to the dining room. When the retainer opened one half of the double-door for a moment to step in, familiar voices drifted out into the hallway.

„I would’ve never found out had Iris not told me.“

„So he took all the blame, even though she had run off all on her own?“

„Kinda made me see Noct in a different light, actually. We got along much better after that.“

„Lady Lunafreya,“ the retainer said after a moment of silence between Noct’s Shield and the Princess of Tenebrae. „Prince Noctis of Lucis and his retinue have arrived. The former Chancellor of Niflheim is with him as well.“

„Thank you, Maria. Please, let them in.“

The old woman opened the double-door for Noctis and his friends to enter the dining room, where the Oracle and his Shield sat at a round table, drinking tea and eating biscuits like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. What a sight. Big muscle head Gladio, with the scars across his forehead and just his short-sleeved jacket to cover his chest, having a tea party with the delicate princess of Tenebrae. If that was no funny picture for the old scrapbook, Noctis did not know what was.

Prompto must have seen it, too, because Noctis could hear him fidgeting with his camera behind him.

„Yo, Noct!“ Gladio raised a hand in greeting.

At the sound of Noctis’ footsteps approaching the table, Umbra and Pryna, who lay half-hidden behind Luna’s chair, raised their heads. Whereas Pryna observed the intruders with a wary look, Umbra wagged his tail in excitement.

„I’m glad to see your mission has been a success,“ Luna said, but as her gaze moved past his companions, her cheerful expression suddenly fell away. „Valyria, is that you?“ she asked with a gasp and rose from her chair. „I feared the worst when I wasn’t able to find you at Altissia. I assumed you didn’t make it.“

„Great to see you, too, Luna, erm, Lady Lunafreya,“ Val replied with a polite nod. „Actually, I made it to Altissia and had just begun to discuss security measures regarding your wedding with the locals when the message of Insomnia’s fall arrived.“ Noctis noticed a shade falling over Valyia’s usually so lively eyes as she spoke. Back at Cape Caem, Monica and Dustin had told him that among the dead of that day were also Val’s father and aunt, which meant that she was the only one left of the Iridius family.

„I turned back immediately.“ Even though she kept her composure, her pain shone through in the tone of her voice. „But I was ambushed by Caligo Ulldor and ended up as a prisoner in a Niff facility. Minister Besithia cut me off from the Prince’s armiger and made me face wave after wave of magitek troops just to see if I could still draw upon any bit of magic. It’s kept me busy till I was freed. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there … I shouldn’t have allowed Ulldor to capture me in the first place.“

„Please, do not blame yourself,“ Luna said and walked up to her. She gently took Valyria’s hands into hers and gave her a reassuring smile. „You did all that you could. We struggle, yet sometimes, we are simply no match for the enemy’s trickery. Rest assured that we are all happy to have you back in our midst and that is all that matters.“

Umbra, too, had gotten up from his spot next to Luna’s chair to follow his mistress. He whined softly, allowing first Valyria, then Noctis, to pet him in greeting.

„Gotta agree with Luna here,“ Noctis added, not wanting to stand there, looking uncaring. „If anyone’s to blame it’s us for not getting you out sooner.“

Some of that lively shine returned to Val’s ocean-coloured eyes. „Thank you, your … Highnesses.“

„By the way,“ Noctis started again, this time addressing Luna. „I thought we agreed that you should lay low until we returned.“ He crossed his arms and gave Gladio a criticising look.

„It was my decision,“ Luna explained. „When we heard of the Emperor’s disappearance and the chaos in Gralea, I contemplated getting rid of the magitek squad Ravus had stationed at the manor. There were rumours that some of the soldiers had gone haywire and were attacking people.“

„And without a commander to bark orders at them, clearing out the manor really was a piece of cake,“ Gladio added. „You won’t find a scratch on the Oracle.“

„Okay, then,“ Noctis replied and decided to let go of the topic.

Luna turned back to his retinue. „You must all be tired after spending so much time in the wilderness of Niflheim. If you’d like to rest for a while, I’m sure Maria will gladly show you to the guest rooms. It has been too long since Fenestala Manor had friendly visitors.“

Prompto stretched his arms over his head. „Yeah, soft beds, baby!“

„I can’t wait to take a hot shower and feel like a decent human being again,“ Valyria exclaimed in relief.

Ardyn scoffed at her.

„What?“

He shook his head. „Oh, it’s none of your concern.“

In the meantime, Luna’s retainer had gone out into the hallway to wait for Prompto, Valyria and whoever else was looking forward to a guest room of his or her own.

„Hey, wait up!“ Gladio stood up from his chair and hurried after them. „You can bring me up to date while we walk.“

After a moment’s hesitation, Ignis left as well. It seemed that only Noctis intended to stay and talk to Luna.

Upon seeing that the former Chancellor was following Noct’s friends out of the dining room, Luna took a step after him. „If you don’t mind, Ardyn, I would like to discuss the matter of Bahamut with you and Noctis first.“

The mere mention of the Draconian caused Ardyn to turn back around. He studied her expression for a second, and seemingly read something from it that Noctis did not. „Consider me intrigued,“ he said with a smirk.

She gestured towards the table. „Come, take a seat.“

The rest of their party had already left when Noctis and Ardyn sat down with Luna. Umbra, too, had returned to the side of his sibling. Still, both dogs looked more alert with the Accursed sitting so close to their mistress. There were chairs for six people, even though the table had been set only for two. A tea set had been placed in the middle, next to a plate with various berry and cream-topped biscuits, though Noctis could hardly care less for the assortment at this moment.

„Please tell me you found a way to defeat Bahamut,“ he said to Luna.

„If anyone may hope to glimpse behind the great gods’ façade of invulnerability, it has to be the Oracle.“ Ardyn crossed his legs, helped himself to the plate of biscuits and casually leaned back. „I trust that any insights you’ve gained will help our cause.“

„So do I,“ Luna agreed. „Though you should thank Gladio for helping me regain access to Fenestala Manor. I’ve learned much, not just from Gentiana, but also from the old books of mother’s library. If we seek to defeat Bahamut, we must understand why Niflheim has been only partially successful in killing Shiva. You see, even though most Astrals have had a physical presence on Eos for ages, they are free to split their power between the mortal and Astral realm. This means that a part of them remains beyond the reach of any mortal. I may suspect that this is also the reason why Ifrit yet lives. Bahamut has only buried his physical form, not killing him, but leaving the Pyreburner severely weakened for thousands of years.“

„Oh, you do disappoint me, Lady Lunafreya,“ Ardyn said, sighing. „Here I was, hoping you’d tell me something new.“

Noctis gave him an annoyed look. „Not all of us have had a pet Astral.“

„Which is exactly why I’m telling you this now,“ Luna added. „Please bear with me, Ardyn.“

He eventually sat up straight. „Fine. Carry on, then.“

„The fact that Bahamut has been absent from Eos for ages suggests that he resides primarily in the Astral realm, beyond our reach,“ she continued. „Messengers may traverse the Astral realm at will, but they can only do so alone. In fact, it seems that only Bahamut, by using the Crystal, possesses the ability to pull another being to the other side. It is also written that the dead may pass, for as long as their souls linger, but there is yet another way to enter the Astral realm that does not require an act of self-sacrifice.“

There was a pause and although Noctis was not so sure what she was getting at, Ardyn seemed to know. „You are speaking of the way that has been predetermined by the old dragon himself, of course.“

„The prophecy demands of the Chosen King to enter the Crystal with the Ring of the Lucii in order to obtain the Power of Providence. In this instance, the Sacred Stone acts like a portal to the Astral realm.“

„Wait! Wait a second,“ Noctis chimed in and held up a hand, „Ardyn said something about me spending ten years inside of the Crystal and leaving the rest of the world in darkness. What’s up with that? I thought we didn’t want that to happen.“

„Ten years is the time required for the Crystal to shed its light onto the Ring, to attain the Power of Providence that will allow you to surpass the gods and banish the darkness,“ Luna explained. „In this process, the Chosen King is meant to gain the Bladekeeper’s blessing and ascend to become the True King, while the Accursed …“ Luna turned to Ardyn, seemingly reluctant to speak of his role, but he continued where she had trailed off.

„While the Accursed spreads darkness throughout the land, growing his strength and giving rise to numerous daemons to wreak havoc upon mankind. I know, my dear Lunafreya. The Draconian has made very clear what he expects of me, but know that I still have no interest in the destruction of all life on our Star.“

She nodded at him as a sign of gratitude and turned back to the Chosen King. „However, if you enter the Astral realm with the intention to use the Power of Providence against Bahamut, he will likely annihilate you upon your arrival.“

Noctis shrugged, feeling a little overwhelmed with the task before him. „What am I supposed to do then, defeat him with the Ring alone?“

„An ill-devised plan such as this is more than likely to fail,“ Ardyn replied, shaking his head in disapproval.

„For this reason,“ Luna said, sounding even more determined than before, „I suggest that the three of us pass through the Crystal together.“

The former Chancellor chuckled at her proposition. „I sincerely hope that you are joking. Perhaps no one has informed you of this, but yours truly has been rejected by the Crystal before and will surely be rejected again.“ His voice bore no trace of the pain and suffering he had gone through, but Noctis remembered the moment of rejection from the memories Ardyn had shown him. It had robbed him of all hope and ultimately enabled Somnus to lock him away.

In the face of Ardyn’s counter argument, Luna went on to explain her idea in detail. The Lucis Caelum magic was a power of light, and as such, Noctis was a being of light to the Crystal, while Ardyn, despite of his Royal blood, was mostly a being of darkness. Luna hoped that she, by using the remnants of her infection, could combine light and dark within her and thus act as a kind of bridge between the two of them. Her intention was, as far as Noctis understood, to trick the Sacred Stone into thinking that they were all one and the same person. It made sense to Noctis, since the three of them possessed powers of light that had originally been granted by the Bladekeeper and that had become a part of their own blood or bloodline since. This trait applied to no one else on Eos.

„I know there’s no guarantee that the Crystal will let me and Ardyn pass,“ Luna added, „but I am convinced that it is the approach with the greatest chance of success. You have said it before, Ardyn. The Crystal has no will of its own. It is an instrument of power, and as such, works by a set of rules. A set of rules that even Bahamut cannot change, or so I hope.“

„And yet, there are uncertainties abound,“ Ardyn said, leaning back in earnest contemplation.

„To defy fate is to face great uncertainties,“ Luna replied, yet it sounded like she had borrowed the words from someone else.

„Any plan is still better than no plan,“ Noctis remarked.

„Unless,“ Luna said and locked eyes with Ardyn, „the man who started it all has another suggestion.“

„And what makes you think I do?“

His reaction proved that she was spot-on with her assumption. „Because you always have a plan, Ardyn.“ Noctis cut straight to the point because he doubted that someone else would. „There’s no point in lying. We’re all on the same page here.“

„If it’s my opinion you wish to hear, let me tell you that, even though Lady Lunafreya’s suggestion may be a bit of a gamble, her reasoning is sound. If you wish to go ahead with her plan, you have my blessing.“

„Dodging the subject. Nice,“ Noctis said, letting sarcasm drip from his words.

„Whatever are you talking about, dear nephew?“ Feigning ignorance, Ardyn took an unused cup from the tea set.

„You know exactly what I’m talking about. We want to hear your plan.“

„Do you, now? You know, I could do this all day.“ Laughing, the former Chancellor poured himself some tea and gave Luna a refill while he was at it. „In all seriousness, though; Have I ever given you reason to doubt me? I come to your rescue, and you come to mine. Let’s keep it at that, shall we? You know I’m not much of a team player.“

„Fine,“ Noctis replied with a sigh. In hindsight, he did not know what kind of answer he had expected. All the secrecy aside, however, he trusted Ardyn to put his own plan into action if and when it was needed. It did not feel much like a plan B, because Noctis did not know the details, but technically, it still meant that they had a pretty good plan A and a, probably somewhat viable, plan B. Not to mention an impressive number of extraordinary allies. The more he thought about it, the more his confidence grew. Hell, even if Luna, Ardyn and Noct failed to corner Bahamut in the Astral realm and he fled to the mortal realm, the Draconian still would have to deal with the rest of his friends and five other Astrals.

Finally, the road to victory had become clear.

„So, what do we do next?“ Noctis asked. „We can’t even try to enter the Crystal without the Ring, so that means we have to find Ravus in Gralea.“

Luna shook her head. „Maria told me that Ravus already travelled on to Insomnia. Apparently, he had stopped briefly at Fenestala Manor before Gladio and I arrived. I have a feeling that he wants us to find him at the Citadel.“

Which meant that it could be a trap. Or that Ravus had changed his mind and actually wanted to hand over the Ring to Noctis. Given the combined power of Noctis and his friends, they could probably take the Ring from him by force, but Noctis would prefer to avoid bloodshed. Not so much for Ravus’ sake, but definitely for Luna’s. It was something they could still figure out on the way back.

In any case, one thing was certain. „We’re going home.“

Chapter Text

It was on their way back to Lucis that Noctis truly understood the meaning of the expression “the long road home”. They had travelled all over the world, collected Royal Arms, gained the blessing of the gods, saved friends and beaten enemies, and were finally returning to reclaim the Crown City.

Admittedly, they could have travelled much faster with Aranea's airship, but Noctis was reluctant to call her up again. She had a search-and-rescue business to take care of and besides, he was pretty sure Aranea would get mad at being asked to fly them all across Eos again so soon.

Instead, they took the train from Tenebrae through Cartanica, past Fodina Caestino, back to the coast, where they met up with Cid and boarded the Royal Vessel to cross the ocean. Stopping at Altissia would have meant a shorter trip by boat, but a considerable detour on their way to Lucis, which was why everyone opted for spending more time at sea so Cid could land their ship directly at Cape Caem. They stayed overnight at the light house and headed towards Leide by car the next morning. There was no way all seven members of Noct's growing party could have fit into the Regalia, and so they drove off in a convoy with Ardyn.

At Hammerhead, they stopped once more for food and rest, and while Prompto seized the opportunity to chat with Cindy, Noctis and the rest came to a decision on how to approach the Imperial blockade between Leide and Insomnia. By the afternoon of the same day, they had taken the blockade and checkpoint by force. As expected, there had been no commanders present, only magitek soldiers in larger numbers, and with the Royal Arms swirling all around him, Noctis cleaved through an entire squad in a matter of seconds, no help needed. It had really become that easy.

They travelled on, across the bridge connecting Leide with Insomnia, and entered the city through one of the wide-open gates in the remaining, non-magical wall along the city perimeter. At first glance, it seemed as though Noctis' home had been largely unaffected by the invasion. The houses, public gardens and streets on the outskirts were still intact, even if they were no longer bustling with life. It was strange to see Insomnia, this once so lively metropolis, devoid of human presence. The sound of the Regalia's engine reverberated through the empty streets. As they got closer and closer to the centre of Lucis' Crown City, the more the destruction showed. Some of the buildings had sustained heavy damage, possibly from the Imperial artillery. Burnt out cars and debris were blocking increasingly more roads the further they travelled, eventually forcing them to leave the Regalia and Ardyn's convertible behind and continue on foot.

Even from afar, the towers of the Citadel stood out on the skyline of the city. Their sight sparked hope in Noctis' heart that the building had, indeed, withstood the assault during the invasion. Still, with or without the Citadel, he hardly recognised the heart of Insomnia. Many of the skyscrapers that used to dominate the image of the innermost city had been reduced to heaps of rubble, underneath of which, more often than not, entire roads or smaller buildings lay buried. As they searched for a way further in, Prompto pointed out to Noctis a neon sign sticking out of the debris. It belonged to the arcade they used to visit after school, yet the area looked nothing like Noctis remembered it. Neither the arcade nor the sushi bar or the convenience store next to it were still recognisable as such. The multi-story high building had caved in as though something extremely large and heavy had collapsed on top of it.

Thankfully, Ignis managed to navigate them through this maze of rubble Insomnia had turned into, by searching for certain landmarks that had survived the invasion, like underground stations or memorials.

In some areas, monsters had settled in. In passing, Noctis saw a pack of the starved-looking, dog-like Voretooths digging through the remains of a building for scraps of food. From the distance, he even spotted a Bandersnatch, and an adult Behemoth. Even though he was confident that his party could handle the worst of monsters, it was still a worrying sight. As a general rule of thumb all across Eos, the daemons that rose from the darkness at night were stronger than any monster spotted during the day.

“Let us make haste to reach the Citadel while there is still daylight,” Ignis suggested, who was walking ahead through a narrow passage between two heavily damaged buildings to bypass another blocked street. “I'm afraid Insomnia can no longer be considered free of daemons.”

“Not with him in it, it can't,” Gladio pointed out, nodding to Ardyn.

The former Chancellor seemingly took no offence at his remark. “I very much doubt that any of the daemons you encounter at night will be as well-disposed towards you as I am.”

The passage led out onto the main street towards the Citadel. Only a multi-lane crossroads still separated them from the gate to the Citadel's courtyard. Noctis raised his head to look at the towers of his home looming large before them. Some damage had been dealt to the upper parts of the small main tower in the centre, more specifically the floors where the Crystal had been kept and the council room was located, but the three surrounding towers looked to be entirely undamaged, which meant that, at the very least, all the offices and living spaces were still accessible.

A bright orange glow on the horizon heralded the end of day as they passed the gate and the unmanned checkpoint in front of the courtyard. Grief welled up in Noctis' heart as he remembered walking down the large staircase from the main entrance to the Regalia and waving Regis good-bye. It had been the last time he had spoken to his father, and he felt stupid and ignorant, not being able to remember the exact last words they had exchanged. At the time, it had seemed unimportant. He had not expected the invasion, though maybe Regis had, which left him to wonder what had gone through his father's head that day. Noctis stopped at the foot of the staircase, looking up to where Regis had once stood, watching him and his friends depart. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. He would have never imagined to find himself standing before his home with such a weight on his soul.

Luna placed a hand on his arm, offering support in silence. She knew, perhaps better than he did, what had happened at the Citadel. There was a shimmer of unspoken grief in her eyes as well. Noctis gently removed her hand, signalling his gratitude and understanding before he walked on, determined to rewrite his destiny and end the cycle of suffering their families had gone through once and for all.

A man with silvery white hair stepped up to the top of the staircase. He wore a white coat, a sheathed sword at his hip, another tucked through the loops of his belt, and an expression so stern it probably made children cry. That was Ravus, all right.
The Imperial High Commander stood there, stiff as a board with both of his hands behind his back. His shoulders slanted to one side, which seemed odd for someone who always minded his posture like Ravus did.

Noctis had barely climbed the first five steps of the stairs when Ardyn pushed past him and raised his arms in a theatrical greeting. He was beaming with joy at the sight of Luna's brother, or perhaps he just pretended to, because this was Ardyn, after all. “Oh, Hello!” he called out, waving at Ravus. “Hello, hello!”

Ravus' face twitched in anger and disgust. “O great Ramuh, smite me now or I swear, I will kill that man,” he said, just barely loud enough for Noctis to hear. His glare moved from Ardyn to Noctis before discovering Luna, and his expression softened ever so slightly. “Though maybe not today,” he added.

One by one, Ardyn, Noctis and Luna reached the top of the staircase. The rest stayed behind on the steps, waiting to see how the conversation with Ravus was going to unfold.

“Brother,” Luna addressed him with worry in her voice. “You're wounded.”

“T'is but a scratch,” Ravus replied and adjusted his posture, even though he was clearly struggling to maintain it.

Ardyn clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh my, whatever have they done to you in Gralea?”

“You should have been left to rot in that facility.” The High Commander practically spat the words at him, though Ardyn remained unimpressed as ever.

“I told my friends just the same thing, but little goody-two-shoes that they are, they simply wouldn't listen. If it's of any consolation to you; My dearest nephew will handle the talking this time. You may see for yourself how much he's improved since our last encounter.” With a sweeping gesture, he directed Ravus' attention back at the Prince.

Sighing, Noctis crossed his arms. “Does it have to sound so insincere when you say it?”

“Noctis,” the High Commander began, sounding no less threatening than before. “I have come here to …”

Before he could finish the sentence, Luna strode briskly past Noctis and Ardyn, grabbed Ravus by his left upper arm and pulled him down to her eye level. A cry escaped Ravus as she provoked his injury. Gone was his intimidating demeanour. In a futile attempt to free himself, he tried to twist his arm out of her grasp, but only ended up wincing in pain.

“This is not a scratch!” Luna told him harshly.

“Are you out of your mind, sister?” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Why would you expose my weakness in front of my enemies?”

“Your foolish stubbornness has always been your greatest flaw, brother,” Luna said and let go of his arm, so he could clutch his wounded shoulder with one hand. “We are not your enemies and have never truly been. If you needed help, you only had to reach out.”

“I do not desire your help.”

“Then help yourself,” Noctis chimed in. “The Ring gave you the Power of Kings, right? I saw you use an armiger of your own. Many drinks gain healing properties if you keep them in there long enough. The healing is nowhere near as good as Luna's, but it's something, at least.”

“Ah, if only you had asked …,” Ardyn added and received another glare from Ravus in return.

“I do not care for either of your advice. Every time I speak to one of you Lucis Caelums, my life ends up being ruined in one way or another. I'm done with all of your lot.” From a pocket on his coat, he produced the fabled Ring of the Lucii and presented it to Noctis. “Here, take what is rightfully yours.”

Despite of all the magical power contained within, it was still just an unassuming, black ring with a white stone set into it. Remembering all too well what had happened the last time he had put on the Ring, Noctis hesitated before accepting it.

“And take your father's glaive as well.” From his belt, Ravus drew a familiar Royal Arm and gave it to the Prince. It was the Sword of the Father, Regis' signature weapon, that Ravus must have picked up during the invasion.

With a twinge of sadness, if not nostalgia, Noctis took it and held the sword in front of him. Regis had used it when Noctis had been a child, to save him from the Marilith daemon and defend them during their escape from Fenestala Manor, but with advancing age and weakness, retrieving weapons from the armiger had become increasingly difficult for his father. Noctis was still regarding the patterns adorning the blade as Ardyn reached out to touch it. Before he could so much as brush the metal with his fingertips, Noctis dropped the sword into his armiger. It felt wrong, to let the man involved in his father's death, who had not once shown any respect for the late king, draw an image from the weapon.

Ardyn looked at him, puzzled. “You're keeping this one for yourself?”

“This one is … special,” Noctis replied for want of a better explanation.

The former Chancellor's voice shifted to that sincere, quieter tone. “I have no desire to take it from you. I merely wished to acquire its soul.”

“I know and I'll let you, just …,” Noctis paused, searching for the right words, “Not yet. Later.”

Judging by his expression, the former Chancellor was studying him intently, possibly trying to figure out if he was being honest or not.

“Ardyn, there is a king who still needs to be mourned,” Luna added, to which Ravus scoffed, showing his disdain for the late king.

At least, Ardyn had gotten the hint and took a step back. “Do what you must, then.”

A moment of silence followed, but with Prompto around, those never lasted long. “So, uh … The High Commander surrenders?” he asked the others of Noct's retinue quietly, but not quietly enough.

“I do not surrender,” Ravus insisted, glaring daggers at the gunner before turning back to Noctis. “With the prophecy in shambles, my goals have become moot. This is a twilight age that you have brought on, Noctis. An age of chaos and uncertainty.”

Luna shook her head at him. “No, Ravus. It is an age of dawn, of possibilities and future. A new day is born from light and dark in equal measure.”

“I no longer care how the darkness is driven back, as long as it is done, and the only one who can do it is Noctis, for the souls within the Ring accept none other than the Chosen.”

“That means you've spoken to Somnus, right?” Noctis asked.

“I have, and I was able to come to a temporary agreement with him. He granted me further use of the Ring so that I may bring it to you, but no more than that.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Noctis noticed Ardyn creasing his brows in contemplation.

“You don't happen to know what he's after, do you?” Noctis continued to ask Ravus.

“We spoke only briefly, but it seems that he, too, wants to see a change in the prophecy. Namely, to see his lineage survive.”

Now, that was unexpected. Based on what Noctis remembered of the words Somnus had whispered into his ear, he had assumed that Somnus wanted to see the prophecy fulfilled in the same way as Bahamut did. If he wished for Noctis to live, then they had one common goal at least. Still, Noctis could not help but worry, that, as soon as he put on the Ring, Somnus would try to take control of his magic again to lunge at Ardyn and rekindle their feud.

The glow along the horizon dimmed and night slowly settled in.

“May we head inside, Ravus?” Luna asked her brother. “It's getting rather dark, and it's been a long journey.”

“Of course. Come.” He turned around, walked over to the three entrance doors to the Citadel and opened the middle one for his sister. The rest of them did not receive such service.

For the most part, the reception hall looked just as it always had. The reception desk to the left was in a bit of a disarray, but appeared to be otherwise intact. Black floor tiles with gold ornaments led to the corridor in the back, where the elevators leading to the press hall, council room and throne room were located. To Noctis' surprise, the light fixtures were all still working. He was no expert on energy, but the Citadel could draw power from the mere presence of the Crystal, so perhaps it had something to do with that.

Ravus sat down on one of the black visitor couches, and Luna joined him to take a look at his shoulder. An injury that had already begun healing on its own was, probably, much harder to patch up properly. While his friends spread around the room and settled on some of the other couches, Noctis' gaze was drawn to the old paintings along the walls. Their sight had become so familiar that Noctis had stopped thinking about them years ago, but the knowledge he had gained on his journey put the images into a new perspective. The paintings showed scenes from the book of the gods, the Cosmogony. There was Ifrit's betrayal, the War of the Astrals, the Founder King receiving the Stone and the Ring from Bahamut, the King and the Oracle travelling the world, and the prophecy, of course. Very few of the depicted figures actually looked like their real-world counterparts, but it was especially the image of the Founder King that struck Noctis as flawed. The man with the long, brown hair and the white robe resembled Ardyn's former self far more than Somnus. The truth behind the kingdom's founding might have been right before their eyes all this time.

Noctis' thoughts were in turmoil. The Citadel stirred too many emotions. His eyes fell on the Ring in the palm of his hand. “I have to make a call,” he announced to his friends and turned to walk back outside. “In private.”

Ardyn's gaze followed him as he strode past to the doors.

“Shout if you need us,” Valyria called after him.

A chill wind embraced Noctis when he stepped out. Night had not fallen completely yet, but two Red Giants had already emerged from the shadows on the crossroads in front of the courtyard – walking heaps of muscle armed with red-hot broad swords, and some of the strongest daemons known to Eos. Just in case, Noctis stayed at the top of the staircase. He held up the Ring with one hand, ready to put it on the other, whilst mentally preparing himself to face his ancestor.

“Whatever are you doing, Noct? You're not seeking an audience with my brother, are you?”

Although he had recognised him by the sound of his voice, Noctis still startled at the sight of Ardyn standing in front of the closed entrance doors. “Do you have to sneak up on me like that?”

“I could have kept quiet and let you carry on, but I'd prefer if you didn't do something both of us are going to regret,” Ardyn said and walked up to him. To see him wearing such a serious expression was rare and did not bode well, but Noctis held his ground.

“I need to talk to him. We can't enter the Crystal without the Ring, and if Somnus doesn't approve of what I'm doing, he'll either try to reject me or use the Ring's magic to attack you.”

A fleeting smile crossed Ardyn's features. “And your boundless consideration for others is just the reason why I cannot allow it to happen. More than one son of house Caelum was gifted with great cunning. Though Somnus' methods differ from mine, make no mistake: He will try to take advantage of you.” He held out his palm to Noctis, seemingly expecting him to drop the Ring into it. “If you absolutely must talk to him, let me have a word first.”

Noctis balled his fist around the jewel. “Sorry, but part of the reason why the world's in this mess is that Somnus and you weren't able to make up. Honestly, with that much bad blood between you, I don't think giving you another chance to talk is going to change anything.”

Ardyn blinked at him in surprise. “A convincing argument. So you possess some diplomatic prowess, after all.”

“Told you so.”

“Still, how will you achieve what I could not? At the very least, allow me to offer my advice.”

“I can't have you stick around. At the Altar of the Tidemother, I got caught up in your stupid feud and the two of you weren't even talking directly to each other.”

“Come now, we're all grown-ups here. I know when to fight with words instead of arms.”

Noctis gave him a look of disbelief. “Oh, right. In the city that Somnus founded? Where nearly every monument has been erected in his honour?”

In a mix of annoyance and anger, Ardyn furrowed his brows.

“Yeah, I don't think so,” Noctis added. “Trust me, Ardyn. I'm on your side. Somnus is not just gonna sway me.”

There it was again, the doubt in Ardyn's eyes. It had to be ironic for him, to hear someone with Somnus' face speak to him about trust. A moment of silence passed, before Ardyn put a hand to his forehead and shook his head as if trying to clear his mind of the hatred. “Pretty bold of you to assume I had any trust left to give. Nonetheless, since it's you who's asking, I shall try to find it within me to trust you, if only for the time being.” He bowed respectfully before returning to the Citadel's entrance. In front of the door, Ardyn stopped to look back at Noctis. “I pray your resolve remains unshaken,” he added, and disappeared into the reception hall.

With him gone, Noctis was back to where he had been minutes before. This time, he no longer hesitated to put on the Ring. Once the jewel had slid into place on his finger, the Crystal's magic became accessible again, flowing from the Ring into his hand, arm and body. It was a connection that could easily go both ways, either filling him with magic or draining it from him. The hushed voices of the Lucii surrounded him once more.

“Show yourself, Somnus,” Noctis demanded. “You wanted to talk before, and I've got something to say this time, too. Let's have this chat.”

The ruins of Insomnia, blanketed by the dark of night, served as the background in front of which the barely visible image of a man appeared. He was a bit taller, and perhaps five to ten years older than Noctis, wearing a black robe and a cape, and looked overall surprisingly much like he had in Ardyn's memory, which led Noctis to wonder if Somnus, like many others of his ancestors, had died at a young age.

“Your form of address leaves something to be desired, though I am glad to speak to you again all the same,” Somnus said. A quiet, otherworldly echo accompanied his words. “Will you allow me plead my case?”

Noctis crossed his arms. “I know your case. You've been trying to convince me that your brother's a monster, I'm stupid for trusting him and if I don't change my mind we're all doomed. Did I get that right?”

“Yours is a crude summary that lacks the most important pieces of information. Ardyn sent you on a quest to slay a god when it is the scourge you should be fighting. To banish the darkness is the calling of the Chosen. Over a hundred kings gave their life to protect the Crystal and strengthen the Ring, so that you may wield its power to overcome the Adagium's immortality and deliver our Star from its blight. Will you truly let their sacrifices be in vain?”

“I hate to break it to you,” Noctis began his counter-argument, “but my ancestors' sacrifices were pointless. Mankind's got a cure for the Starscourge that's just about ready to be distributed all over Eos. It'll stop people from turning into daemons and then this eternal night or whatever it's called in the prophecy won't even happen.”

“You cannot compare the scourge to a common cold,” Somnus objected. “It is a blight, a curse on this world, not something to be treated with herbs and a night's rest.”

“I wasn't done yet.” Noctis kept his gaze firmly locked onto Somnus' face. “There's something else that doesn't add up. How is Ardyn's death going to rid the world of the Starscourge? Sure, he's got a lot of the stuff, and I guess he used it against a bunch of people, but daemons have been around for over a hundred years, way before Ardyn was released from Angelgard. There just weren't as many of them. That means he isn't the sole source of the scourge, and if his death really does cleanse the world, then it has to be the gods' doing, and nothing to do with him.”

Somnus did not look pleased to listen to his arguments, but Noctis was not talking to him to make friends. “It will work because it has worked in the past. When I struck my brother down on that fateful day, it was the last of the scourge I had seen for the rest of my mortal life. Trust me when I say that I did not do it because I wanted to, but for the sake of the kingdom as a whole. My brother did a lot of good back then, but he was so concerned with each and every individual that he failed to see the greater picture. The gods chose him to be the embodiment of darkness, and as such, his fate was preordained.”

“And you're sure the scourge subsiding had nothing to do with the number of people you burned? Or the ones Ardyn healed? Why does everything have to be the gods' doing?”

“Because it simply is. Mankind is at the mercy of the gods. If you had met Bahamut, you would know that we can twist the chains that bind us, but we cannot break them.”

All this talk of fate. If Noctis had to listen to any more of it, he was going to hit someone. Not Somnus, though. Trying to hit his ghostly apparition would probably just send him tumbling down the stairs. “I haven't met Bahamut yet, but I have met five other Astrals and they didn't seem almighty to me.” Perhaps two thousand years ago, people lived in awe of their gods, but this was the year 756 in the modern era. Most of Eos' mysteries had been unravelled by science, while the gods – with the exception of Bahamut – had been slumbering for ages up until Luna had roused them. Someone who had been dead for two thousand years was probably just too stuck in his beliefs to understand.

With crossed arms, Somnus paced a few steps along the top of the staircase. “Your thoughts have been more corrupted than I thought. This conversation is going nowhere.”

“Now, here's something I can agree on.”

“Why did you summon me, then?”

“Because I want to use the Ring to enter the Crystal with Luna and Ardyn, and I don't want you to interfere.”

“So you intend to drag Ardyn with you into the beyond?” Somnus asked and continued to walk along the uppermost step. It was funny to see, how Somnus grew more restless the more he contemplated a matter, whereas his elder brother usually grew still and quiet when lost in thought. “This was not foretold, but it could work just as well,” Somnus mused aloud. “The prophecy asks of you to give your life to move on to the beyond after the Adagium has been slain in the mortal realm, so that you may relieve him of his immortality from the other side. But the time for the final battle has not yet come. Neither of you are as strong as you should be by then.”

Noctis gave him a confused look. He had the Ring of the Lucii, fourteen Royal Arms and five Astrals willing to help. How much more powerful could he even get? Was he talking about the so-called Power of Providence?

“If you fought him directly in the beyond, you might just be able to put him to rest without sacrificing your own life.”

“We've just been over this. It's not gonna happen.”

“Then you really will doom this world,” Somnus stated matter-of-factly.

“I don't think so.”

Shaking his head, Somnus switched to a softer tone of voice. “Noctis, why even take the risk when there is a guaranteed way to cure our Star? Your wish to save my brother is noble, and I honour your intention, but even if …” He sighed as if he struggled to speak of what he deemed to be impossible. “If you would find another way to stop the impending night eternal, Ardyn will never be relieved of his cursed existence. Ask him about his plans for the future, and I promise, he will not know what to do beyond getting his revenge on the gods.”

Doubts were creeping into Noctis' thoughts. Somnus might have a point. Not once had Ardyn contemplated what happened after their victory. In fact, he had never seemed so optimistic to begin with. Remembering his promise to Ardyn, Noctis pushed the notion aside. “His future will be for him to decide. I've got no say in it.”

Somnus' expression grew steely. “In this case, we shall meet again when you arrive in the beyond. If you will not banish the darkness, then I, – nay, we – as the Lucii combined, will have to try.”

Funny that he mentioned the other Lucii, because Noctis had yet to hear them talk. “Can I get a second opinion on that?” he asked.

“What other opinion do you need? I speak for all of the Lucii.”

“Then you won't mind if I talked to another one, right?”

“Fine. Call and they shall answer, but hurry. If this conversation drags on any longer, you will force the Ring to draw upon your life to sustain our presence in this world.”

Noctis raised the hand with the Ring to his face. “Dad, are you there?” He waited for a response, one second, and another, and as time crawled on, he was beginning to doubt that Regis' soul had been tethered to the Ring of the Lucii at all.

“This is who you would call?” Somnus asked, looking unimpressed. “The burden of the Father was greater than most. He had to sacrifice everything for you, despite knowing that you were fated be the last of our line.”

“He knew?” Noctis uttered, slightly confused by what he was hearing.

“I sacrificed everything because I had no other choice.”

In a soft glow, another ghostly apparition appeared next to Somnus. Regis looked like he had the day Noctis had departed from Insomnia, old and tired. He still wore the pinstriped suit with the short cape and the knee brace, but he stood straight, seemingly free of the pain that had forced him to use a cane to lean on.

“Dad!” Noctis exclaimed in a breath of relief. It was good to see him, just one more time, even though there was an ache in Noctis' heart, just knowing that his father could not return to the world of the living, not really.

“It is true what he says.” The late king nodded at Somnus in recognition of his remark before turning to Noctis with eyes full of regret. “When you turned five, the Crystal did not just bestow upon you the title of the Chosen. It showed me the fate of the world – and yours.”

Noctis opened his mouth, but found himself at a loss for words. He had always assumed that Regis had known no more than him or the general public – that the True King, with the help of the gods, would ascend to banish the darkness. Not the parts about his sacrifice, the Oracle's hardships, the spread of daemons, the scourge or the many years of never-ending night.

“There was never any doubt in my heart that the prophesied darkness would come and that it would take any less than the life of the Crystal's Chosen to prevent the world's destruction. By the time the Oracle told me there was a way to oppose fate, it was far too late to save myself.”

“The Oracle?” Somnus asked.

“Yes, indeed.”

“Who else have you got under your influence, brother?” Somnus muttered to himself and began pacing again.

“Noctis, it is not too late for you yet,” Regis continued. “Your achievements thus far prove that great good can come from your cooperation with the dreaded Adagium. The Long Night has not descended yet, the Oracle still lives, and even your men remain unharmed.”

Somnus crossed his arms in front of his chest. “All of which are negligible victories in a greater war. You choose your side based on emotions, not reason.”

“As I should,” Regis replied with his head held high and walked up to Noctis. “I was given the role of the father, and what kind of father would I be if I did not stand by my son's side?”

“I refuse to partake in this pointless discussion any longer. Meet me in the beyond, Noctis, and I shall test your resolve one last time.” Somnus turned around and purposefully walked down the staircase. With every step he took, his visible form grew more and more transparent until he had disappeared completely, leaving Noctis to talk to his father, alone. Some of the tension in the air dispersed immediately.

Regis turned to his son once more.“Will you forgive this old fool for keeping your trials from you?”

“How could I not?” Noctis replied. “I should be the one apologising to you, for not being more grateful. You've done so much for me, and I …” It dawned on him what kind of weight Regis must have carried, just so that he could have a carefree, happy childhood in an already ill-fated family loaded with responsibility. How hard it must have been for him to see Noctis off to Altissia, knowing that his son was not meant to live to his twenty-first birthday. What Noctis had seen in his father's eyes on that day had not been worry, but sadness, if not grief.

“Please, harbour no regrets. It is not the duty of a child to be grateful, but the duty of a parent to care for them regardless.”

“Still. Thank you, dad. For everything.”

Regis placed a hand on his shoulder. Even though Noctis could not feel its weight, the gesture alone spoke louder than any words . “Walk tall, my son,” his father said as his ghost ly apparition faded away.

Noctis looked down on the Ring on his finger. When the flow of magic subsided, it felt like a weight crumbled and fell from his soul. He was glad to know, that, even though Somnus and most of the Lucii were against his plan, there was at least one who would always support him. Noctis neither needed, nor cared about anyone else's blessing but Regis', really.

The silence reigning in Insomnia was broken by the screeches of daemons roaming the streets. Clouds had gathered in the night sky overhead, blocking the light of the stars. Lightning crashed in the distance, and Noctis felt a single drop of rain on his head. When he turned around to head back inside, he thought he heard the neighing of a Mesmenir or Spiracorn resound through the city.

Chapter Text

The reception hall had changed little during Noctis' absence. Valyria and Gladio sat on a couch, talking, Luna was still trying to fix up Ravus' arm, Ignis and Prompto had taken to searching the reception desk for anything of use, and Ardyn was speaking to Ravus. It seemed like he was teasing Luna's brother for his own amusement. Again.

“Is this a way to speak to the man who helped to save your dear sister?” Ardyn asked, acting offended.

“I speak to the man from whose fury I had to protect the Chosen King,” Ravus was positively bristling with anger. Fuming, like the Rock of Ravatogh just before an eruption. Only someone with a complete lack of self-preservation instincts like Ardyn would push him any further.

“Ah, was that what had happened?” The former Chancellor scratched his head. “I'm terribly sorry. Trivialities such as this tend to slip my mind.”

In the wink of an eye, Ravus was up on his feet. A sickening crack reverberated through the hall as his fist collided with Ardyn's face. The former Chancellor recoiled, holding his broken nose. At the same time, Ravus howled in pain, for he had used his left hand, the one burned by the Ring and attached to the broken shoulder, to deliver the punch.

“Ravus! I wasn't done yet.” Immediately, Luna was beside him and placed both hands on his shoulder again to try and continue the healing.

Prompto gasped in shock. “You alright, Ardyn?”

“He's had it coming,” Gladio stated, not surprised in the least.

“I've had enough!” Ravus shouted at the top of his lungs, clutching his left hand. “I'm sick and tired of being ordered around, used and taken advantage of! I'm no one's pawn! No more!”

Ardyn stared at Ravus dumb-founded. There was not a hint of anger in his expression, just plain bafflement. When he removed the hand from his nose, the injury had already healed by itself. Any traces of the black blood that had spilled on his face faded away.

“A notched arrow, he had said,” Valyria remarked flatly.

“It appears that the bow string has snapped,” Ignis added, and Ardyn finally found his speech again.

“That hurt!” he exclaimed. “Just for a moment, but still.”

That was when Noctis decided to speak up to keep Ravus from reaching for his sword next. Not that he would achieve much by stabbing the former Imperial Chancellor with it, but Noctis was not keen to see how much damage Ardyn would take before he retaliated. “Give him a break. Can't you see he's suffered enough?”

At the sight of Noctis standing in the entrance area, Ardyn's face lightened up. “Ah, Noct! How did it go?”

Looking defeated and close to despair, Ravus slumped back onto the couch.

Before Noctis could even begin to tell them of his conversation with Somnus, sounds of gunshots fired in rapid succession ripped through the constant patter of rain coming from outside.

“Are we under attack?” Ignis asked. If someone was aiming at the building, they had to be extremely bad at shooting. There was no noticeable impact.

“That's artillery fire from an Imperial aircraft,” Ravus said in an annoyed tone, as though it should be obvious.

Gladio was the first to walk over to the entrance and open the middle door, closely followed by Valyria. Ignis and Prompto dared to open another, making Noctis and Ardyn the last of their party to check on whatever was going on outside. Luna stayed behind with her brother.

The light rain from earlier had turned into a right thunderstorm. Lightning crackled across the sky, highlighting a red magitek engine that was being chased by something decidedly not mortal. Judging by its silhouette, it had to have at least two heads and six limbs.

There was only one red-painted airship in the entire Imperial military, and it was personally owned by ex-Commodore Aranea Highwind. Although Noctis was glad to see her aircraft, he wished he could have warned her of the trouble she would run into.

Lights flared from the muzzles of the machine guns on the airship, but the artillery fire caused no visible impact on the pursuer. In a matter of mere moments, the entity had caught up to the magitek engine and was moving alongside it. There was a cut across the sky, like the very fabric of space itself had been cleaved in two, accompanied by the sharp sound of metal slicing metal. A moment later, the aircraft split into two pieces. It was a single, clean cut.

“Aranea!” Prompto called out in fear.

Noctis held his breath as he watched the aircraft plummet out of the sky and crash into the remains of a half-crumbled skyscraper in the city centre. He could only hope that the loose rubble somehow dampened the impact.

The patter of hooves and rain heralded the entity's approach as it headed for the Citadel. A crash of lightning revealed a warrior clad head to toe in black, shiny armour, complete with a horned helmet and a polished sword in hand. He rode atop a six-legged, unusually large Spiracorn. Underneath of its hooves pooled faint traces of light, seemingly creating a solid ground for it to move on. Black armour plates guarded the creature's neck, leaving only the mane sticking out. Its body also appeared to be covered in white scales rather than light fur, giving it something of a draconic appearance.

“Luna!” Noctis shouted back into the reception hall. Whoever that was, he was no monster or daemon. A divine messenger, most likely, though he could not tell which.

The Spiracorn's hooves touched down on the centre of the Citadel's courtyard and the warrior led his steed around in a circle before facing Noctis and his retinue. Its neighing and snorting echoed off the Citadel's walls, and the warrior raised his sword as if to challenge the Chosen King.

“No rest for the wicked,” Ardyn said with a sigh.

Luna pushed past him to join Noctis in the open doorway. “That's Odin with his steed Sleipnir, a messenger in service to Bahamut. But … He was said to have died in the War of the Astrals.”

“Doesn't look so dead to me,” Prompto uttered, sounding nervous.

“My King.”

Noctis turned around to see Gentiana standing in the reception hall behind him. “The Draconian has lost all hope for this world.” Her voice was accompanied by the brain-wreaking noise of the gods' tongue in the background, and Noctis assumed that it was either another god, or perhaps even Odin, talking at the same time. “Mankind has failed him, and thus, the Bladekeeper seeks to cleanse this Star of all life, so that he may create a new order from the ashes of the old.” The second, unintelligible voice fell silent, leaving Gentiana to speak for herself. “As we speak, the Draconian is drawing power from the Sacred Stone in the beyond, to summon Teraflare, his greatest power of destruction. The Astrals have risen to stop him, yet without the aid of the King of Kings, their efforts will be in vain. Thus, I beseech thee, my King: Make haste to the Crystal.”

Neighing loudly, Sleipnir reared up.

“Noct!” Gladio shouted in alarm as Odin forced his steed into a gallop straight towards the Citadel's entrance.

When Noctis turned his head from him back to where Gentiana had stood, the High Messenger had already disappeared.

“Everyone, fall back!” At Ignis' command, they drew back from the entrance doors.

With or without his steed, Odin should be too large to enter the Citadel. That did not stop him from attacking the building, however. A slash rent the air apart and Noctis felt a sudden draught in the reception hall. The Citadel rumbled as a thin, perfectly even tear appeared in the front wall.

“He's gonna slice the Citadel to bits!” Prompto exclaimed.

Noctis needed to make a decision, and fast. “Iggy, can you keep Odin occupied for a while?”

“Of course.”

At a gesture of the Royal Advisor, Gladio and Valyria burst through the Citadel's doors to confront Odin. Ignis and Prompto followed shortly after. From what Noctis could see, it seemed like Odin had withdrawn to the courtyard to take another run-up at the building.

“What's the battle plan?” Val shouted, summoning Solferrum. The blade immediately burst into flames.

Prompto readied the Auto-Crossbow. “Keep it simple, please!”

Although Gladio was leading the charge with his greatsword shouldered, Odin ignored him. Sleipnir leapt through the air, past him, onto the top of the staircase, and Odin swung his blade at Ignis, who dodged the blow with a backflip in the nick of time.

“Attack!” he shouted in reply to Valyria, and threw a flaming dagger after Odin. “But watch the sword!”

In the meantime, Gladio had turned back. He summoned his shield, which Valyria then used to jump off of and strike at Sleipnir with Solferrum, forcing the steed to back away from the building.

Just moments later, Prompto fired a Gravisphere in the direction of the messenger in an attempt to slow Odin's movements with the gravitational pull.

“Do you not wish to help your friends?” Ardyn asked as Noctis turned around.

Luna's gaze, too, followed him. “Noctis?”

He left their questions unanswered and continued to walk purposefully up to Ravus, who had sunk back onto the couch after getting up during the commotion from earlier. “Hey, you're still interested in saving this world, right?”

“You want me to fight for you?” Ravus scoffed bitterly. “Don't make me laugh.”

“To hear you laughing would be a first,” Ardyn commented, smiling.

“Ignore him,” Noctis said, not just to Ravus, but also to himself. “If you're well enough to fight, I want you to lead my retinue in my absence.”

“Why would you? I have opposed you. I would have killed you if it hadn't been for my sister.”

“That was just what Bahamut ordered you to do, right?” Noctis replied. “I'm not asking you to like me, or my family, for that matter. Hate us all you want. But you and I want to protect Luna and this world, and that's more than enough of a common goal for me.”

“Tsk.” Ravus turned his head away. “Even then, there is nothing I could do for you. Without the Ring, I am powerless. I would be naught but a dead weight.”

Why was it that Ravus always insisted on arguing? In annoyance, Noctis rolled his eyes at him. “Then take my magic. I can't grant you the same powers as the Ring, but I saw you use it. You're a natural. And unlike me, you've got experience in leading an army. This isn't just one battle out there. Bahamut could make an appearance at any time, and someone's got to help Aranea.” Not to mention that Ravus possessed the ability to relentlessly pursue a goal. Despite of his stuck-up attitude, Noctis could respect him for that.

Ravus looked at him with eyes of suspicion and disbelief. “You want to share your blessing with me?”

“The boy's too generous for his own good,” Ardyn chimed in and was, consequently, ignored by all present.

Once granted, revoking someone's access to his armiger was near impossible. But if Noct's father had shared his magic with dozens of Kingsglaive members that he barely knew, just to strengthen his army, then Noctis could very well accept Luna's brother in his ranks.

Another small tremble ran through the building as Odin's sword grazed the Citadel once more. Outside, Gladio was cursing, upset that he had been unable to block the attack.

“I fear we're running out of time,” Luna said, looking at the tear in the front wall with worry. “If Odin damages the building further, we might lose access to the Crystal.”

Ravus closed his eyes and Noctis could all but see him swallow his pride. “I shall accept your gift with great honour, and raise my sword, once more, for the sake of our Star.” He got up only to sink to a knee before Noctis like a knight expecting to receive his lord's blessing, but Noctis grabbed him by the sleeve of his good arm. Seemingly caught by surprise, Ravus did not resist as he pulled him back to his feet, but he swatted Noctis' hand away right after.

“You can skip the act, Ravus,” Noctis explained. “You don't have to pledge your allegiance to me. Just give me your sword, so I can anchor your share of the armiger to it.”

“Do you ever do something properly?” Ravus said under breath as he drew the sabre from the sheath on his belt and presented it to the Prince.

“Watch me save the world and then decide for yourself.” Noctis held out his hand over the sword and focussed on the armiger. Pushing a weapon into it was easy, made even easier by the fact that this particular sword had already been stored in an armiger before and absorbed a tiny bit of magic, but he needed to put it into a specific corner. Into a box of infinite size with Ravus' name on it, within a storage room of infinite size that belonged to Noctis. Figuratively speaking, of course. Noctis had no idea what the armiger looked like from the inside and was not keen to know. Once he had found said, figurative box, he forcefully shoved the sword into it and let the armiger's magic spill over to momentarily latch onto Ravus as if to drag him with it. Due to a spark of elemental magic, lightning danced across the blade before it burst into soul crystals.

Seemingly by instinct, Ravus reached to the side, and the sabre reappeared in his right hand. With determination shining in his eyes, he took a few steps towards the open doors of the Citadel. “See to it that Lunafreya returns alive,” Ravus asked of Noctis.

“I will,” he promised.

“Take care of yourself as well, brother,” Luna added.

The former High Commander hesitated another moment to glare at Ardyn and seemingly bit back on a snarky remark before he headed out to join the fight.

Noctis stayed long enough to see Sleipnir dodge the flames of Valyria's blade and rush at the entrance again. With a focussed blast of lightning from his left hand, Ravus forced Odin and his steed back. Great. That was his first time using Elemancy and he was already able to cast a spell in a way Noctis had never been able to. As if Ravus needed to be better than him in yet another kingly discipline. Was it not enough that his composure, posture and manner of speech already met the standards expected of a monarch? Noctis was just glad Ravus was in line for the throne of Tenebrae, not Lucis.

Luna's brother sidestepped Odin's blade as it cut into the staircase and retaliated with a swift strike to Sleipnir's legs.

“Noctis.” The voice of the Oracle brought his attention back to the matter at hand and he joined Luna on her way to the corridor in the back.

“Not bad, my dear nephew! Not bad!”

Noctis did not like the way Ardyn was clapping his hands. “I wasn't using Ravus,” he clarified.

“But of course you weren't,” he replied, laughing. In a strange gesture, Ardyn summoned his hat from his armiger and threw it onto a couch before he turned to follow Noctis and Luna.

Reduced to a party of three, Luna, Ardyn and Noctis boarded the lift to the throne room. The staircase would have been the safer option during an attack, but this was not the time to climb twenty floors when the lifts were still working. Once the doors had closed and the destination floor had been selected, Noctis was left to look at the numbered buttons set into the brass panel, lighting up one by one. The movement of the lift was accompanied by a soft, barely audible whirring noise.

Luna folded her hands in front of her, looking up at the digital display above the door that showed the number of the current floor.

Not ten seconds later, Ardyn began to hum a relaxed tune that Noctis was certain to have heard at the Mother of Pearl restaurant in Galdin Quay.

“It would be nice if the lifts had been outfitted with a bit of music,” Luna said as if she was merely trying to fill the silence with the sound of her voice.

“I was thinking just the same thing on my first visit to the Citadel,” Ardyn replied. “What a wasted opportunity. They could have shown off the musical talent of Insomnia's citizens. Assuming, of course, such talent exists.”

“I'll have a sound system installed when we make it back,” Noctis promised, if only to end the conversation. “It's not going to be top priority, though.”

With a ding, they arrived at the half-way stop between the reception hall and the throne room. A waiting hall connected the set of lifts coming from the lower floors to another set leading further up. As the three of them crossed the room, Noctis could not help but notice the scorched walls and chipped marble pillars. The lift leading up to the council chamber, where the signing of the peace treaty should have taken place, was completely out of commission. Its doors seemed to have been opened by force from the inside, the cables were cut and the lift car was missing.

Luna stopped in the middle of the hall, staring at a dark stain on the black-and-white floor like she had seen a ghost.

While Ardyn called the lift to the throne room, Noctis turned back to her. “What is it, Luna?”

“I'm sorry.” Shaking her head, she walked up them. “It was just a bad memory.”

He hardly dared to ask. “Did someone die here?”

In response, she simply nodded.

It occurred to Noctis that he had never asked her to explain in detail what had happened at the Citadel on the day of the signing ceremony. He wished he would have done so when they had the time.

The lift doors slid open. “Enough with the dilly-dallying,” Ardyn said. “You heard the High Messenger, didn't you? We mustn't be late for our date with divinity.”

With a determined nod, Luna joined him and Noctis in the lift. The second ride was thankfully a bit shorter and did not give the infamously awkward silence a room to settle in.

Eventually, they stepped into the throne room with its extraordinarily high ceiling and walls decorated in black marble with gold and brass ornaments. Visually, it was split into three levels: The entrance level, the elevated platform before the throne, to which honoured guests were allowed to ascend to speak to the king, and the throne, which was accessible not by one, but by two curved staircases leading further up from the platform and a few additional steps on top of that. The king's chair sat a bit higher than the chairs of the council members to either side of the room on the same level. In other words: A lot of stairs to climb in the daily life of a king.

There were two prominent changes since Noctis had last stood before his father for a formal address. One being the gaping hole in the side of the room where the council member's chairs to the right of the throne had been, the other being the Crystal, which had been very unceremoniously dropped by the Niff forces in the middle of the platform.

In contrast to how it was displayed in the Cosmogony, the Sacred Stone was not a single, shiny shard, but rather something like a geode taller than any grown man. On the outside, it consisted of solid, black rock, but the opening on the front revealed myriads of blue crystals on the inside that glowed with a magical power so strong that its magic became visible in the air. Prismatic wafts of mist emanated from the crystals. The Sacred Stone's presence felt oppressive, in a way.

The closer Noctis got to it, the thicker the wafts of magic became, and the glow from deep within the geode turned into a light that continued to grow in intensity.

Next to him, Ardyn raised an arm in front of his eyes, wincing.

The Ring on Noctis' finger reacted to the Crystal. There was a connection between both objects that grew noticeably stronger with every step he took. The magic surrounding him surged until he was starting to feel dizzy. His heart began to pound in his chest. A rush of adrenaline flooded his veins. He would have had to lie to say he was not scared to enter the Crystal without knowing what kind of world awaited him in the beyond. Instinctively, Noctis reached out behind himself. To feel Luna link her fingers with his own gave him the strength to carry on.

#-#-#

She did not hesitate to take Noctis' hand when he reached out to her. Already, Luna could tell that something about the Crystal was pulling him towards it, as though the Sacred Stone and the Ring had become lock and key before the Chosen King, destined to be brought together. At the same time, the light of the Crystal had begun to unsettle the remnants of the scourge she carried. Whereas it was merely unpleasant for her, Luna could barely imagine how Ardyn must feel.

He was walking behind her with an arm raised and fighting the Crystal's light with every movement forward. Individual miasma particles detached themselves from his form.

On their way back to Lucis, he had asked Luna whether she knew about the risk of her plan. She had only nodded then, and neither of them had needed to elaborate. The Starscourge was unreliable in nature, and she had experienced herself how violently the darkness reacted when exposed to the powers of the divine. When she had expressed her concern for his well-being in return, he had simply shrugged it off, claiming that he was no stranger to suffering.

As Noctis continued to slowly walk up to the Crystal, Luna held out a hand to Ardyn. She would have spared him the pain if only she could, but they needed him to fill in for the Power of Providence that Noctis lacked. “Take my hand, Ardyn!” she called out.

He lowered his sleeve just enough to glance over to her. His skin had turned ashen. A black liquid was spilling from his eyes, causing his golden irises to stand out like the cold stare of a daemon in the dark. Despite of the state he was in, he held out his hand to her as they had agreed.

When Luna grabbed his wrist, not frightened by the wisps of darkness that rose from him, she could feel the Starscourge raging in him like a storm. The fact that he had not yet lost himself in it spoke a great deal for his strength of will, though there was no telling how long it would last.

Eventually, Noctis had come close enough to the Sacred Stone to reach inside. Its light had grown to such an intensity that even Luna could not no longer look at it. Likewise, the magic had become so overwhelming that it nearly numbed Luna's sixth sense for the divine and the daemonic, were it not for the stark contrast to the dark magic right beside her.

At that moment, when Noctis touched the Crystal, the link was made.

From him, light flooded her body, and the darkness from Ardyn responded in kind. Like a vessel tossed about during a storm, both forces clashed around her, spilling into her, threatening to drown her. The light stung and burned. The darkness numbed and weakened her. At some point, she could no longer tell which magic was hers, or how severely she was infected. In one instant, the Starscourge almost consumed her, and in another, she was cleansed of it. The pain was intense, but never lasted for more than a split second before the tides turned again. By sheer willpower alone, Luna held on.

That was the risk Ardyn had spoken of. Due to her having been cursed with the ability to absorb the scourge and become an embodiment of darkness, and him already being an embodiment of darkness, cursed to spread the scourge, there was a considerable chance that she ended up with a much worse infection than before, even if she did not draw it out willingly.

The light of the Crystal absorbed Noctis completely, and when Luna could no longer feel his fingers between her own, she could no longer feel her hand, either. It frightened her, even though she knew that it was exactly what they had hoped would happen. The Crystal was drawing her in along with Noctis.

On the other end, Ardyn's grasp slipped, leaving Luna to hold the two of them together by herself. It was too bright to see, but his dark presence had turned from that raging storm of darkness into a mere shadow, spread far and thin. She did not know how she could still feel his wrist in her grasp when the Crystal's magic had begun to disintegrate his physical form like his weakened presence suggested. Afraid of losing him, Luna called upon her powers of healing to draw the Starscourge to her, to strengthen the connection between them, but only a fleeting amount of it answered. It carried a single, overwhelming emotion with it, that momentarily replaced her own feelings: mortal fear.

The dark presence dispersed completely as Luna was swallowed whole, mind and body, by the light.

Chapter Text

When Noctis regained conscience, he found himself lying face-down on the cold and rough surface of an asphalted road. Although disoriented at first, Noctis slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position and blinked himself awake. It was unusually dark all around him. He could make out the ruins of one of Insomnia’s skyscrapers at the edge of the street, but barely any more than that. The neon sign of the arcade Prompto had pointed out to him earlier stuck out of the rubble, giving him a very rough idea of where he was.

His mind still felt hazy and sluggish, forcing him to actively piece together how he had ended up here. Noctis recalled touching the Crystal while holding Luna’s hand, and the light of the Sacred Stone pulling him in, eating him alive. No one had told him it would be such a frightening experience.

„Luna?“ Glancing around, Noctis rose back to his feet. Something had clearly gone wrong. Instead of ending up in the Astral realm, he was back in Insomnia. It was still night, the sky was still overcast, and there were no signs of either his fiancée or uncle. At the very least, he would have expected all three of them to end up in the same place.

Gathering his senses and thoughts, Noctis took a deep breath. The air in his lungs tasted strangely stale and bitter. He tapped the clip-on light on his jacket because it had not turned on by itself like it should, but with some persuasion, it eventually flickered to life. The artificial light revealed that the darkness surrounding him was not the result of a rainstorm at night-time. Right before his eyes, miasma particles drifted past. More than just the few scattered remains of slain daemons. The stuff permeated the air evenly. Unhealthy as it was, it was near impossible not to breathe it in.

„Ardyn?“ Noctis called out again. „Anyone?“

There was no response but the screeches of daemons in the distance. An uneasiness settled into the pit of his stomach.

Although the world looked a bit unfamiliar, being covered in darker-than-night shadows, Noctis was able to get a rough estimation of where he was and how to get to the Citadel. He glanced at his phone as he walked, but there was no reception. Given the state of the city, it should have come as no surprise.

In places where Noctis had spotted monsters during daytime, daemons had risen and conquered Insomnia’s ruins. There were Psychomancers, Red Giants, and strangely coloured subspecies of Arachne and Ronin. If it was on the top ten list of the strongest daemons on Eos, it had probably found a new home in Insomnia.

On the corner of a building, Noctis stopped and turned off his light to hide from a Nagarani slithering past. Its bright yellow eyes were scanning the area for prey. He could think of more dignified ways to die than to end up as a frog in the jaws of that thing. Without his friends nearby to turn him back with a Remedy or Maiden’s Kiss, that scenario was not too unlikely. Just because he had the Ring of the Lucii and fourteen Royal Arms at his disposal did not mean he was invincible.

As soon as the snake-like daemon had moved sufficiently far away, Noctis crossed the street and continued towards the Citadel. The sky was too dark to make out the towers, but he had found enough landmarks to know that he was headed into the right direction.

Man, he was so not looking forward to chasing all those daemons out of the city after they had dealt with Bahamut. Hopefully, they could get the hunters to help take care of the daemon problem in preparation for all the reconstruction work that was going to be needed.

With some skill, and luck, probably, Noctis managed to make his way to the Citadel’s courtyard without being discovered and attacked by the larger daemons. The crossroads in front of the courtyard checkpoint was strangely devoid of daemon presence, as though someone had taken the time to secure the area – or simply slain any fiend in the vicinity. Ravus’ doing, perhaps? He seemed like that kind of overachiever.

The grounds of the courtyard looked pretty messed up. Large cracks and tears that told of a recent battle ran through the road leading up to the staircase. In some places, the asphalt had formed strange shapes like it had been molten and solidified again after being exposed to extreme heat. Noctis wished he had been there to watch his friends take down Odin. It must have been a fight to remember.

As he took the first steps up the staircase, he noticed three familiar figures standing in front of the Citadel’s entrance. Gladio, Ignis and Prompto all wore the trademark Kingsglaive garb, a black coat with two rows of buttons. They were seemingly waiting for something or someone.

„Someone’s approaching,“ he heard Ignis say.

„But – that’s Noct!“ Prompto exclaimed in surprise.

Glad to see them, Noctis waved at them from the lower steps of the stairs. „Hey, guys!“

„Is it dawn yet?“ Ignis asked, tilting his ear to Gladio.

„No,“ he replied and crossed his arms. „Noct looks like he did before he vanished.“

In contemplation, Ignis raised a hand to his chin. „Then that means … It’s not him?“

By the time Noctis had reached the top of the stairs, he still had no idea what they were talking about, but he did notice some, rather concerning differences compared to the last time he had seen his friends.

For a start, Gladio had grown his undercut to regular length and tied the strands into a small ponytail to keep the rest of his hair in place. That was not so much concerning in itself, but rather made Noctis worry about how long he had been gone. Prompto now wore a goatee, which was, admittedly, only worrying in the sense that Noctis deemed it a poor choice in style, but Prompto was also unusually still and calm for his standards. And Ignis … Ignis had him seriously concerned. Not because he had stopped using hair gel, but because of the scar tissue near his brow and the reflective sunglasses he wore despite of it being pitch black outside. He also seemed to be looking past Noctis, or through him.

„What on Eos happened to you guys?“

„You don’t know?“ Prompto answered, looking at him with worry.

„You think I’d ask if I knew?“

Noctis received a criticising look from Gladio. „He’s still got that attitude.“

„What about it?“ Surely, he was not responsible for Gladio’s bad mood. „Is someone gonna tell me what’s going on?“

„Noct,“ Iggy began in that very collected tone of his. „What is the last thing you remember before you arrived here?“

„I touched the Crystal. Next thing I know, I woke up on the streets.“

„Hate to tell ya, but it’s been ten years since,“ Gladio finally explained, and Noctis felt his insides cramp up in shock.

„I feel like we’ve been through this before,“ Prompto said, rubbing his neck.

„That’s because we have,“ Ignis added. „Do you have any idea why you’ve been sent here, Noct?“

„I … No.“ He struggled to find the words.

Ten years. That was the time needed to gather the Power of Providence. Yet he felt no different from before. Had Luna and Ardyn been rejected by the Crystal and fate ran its course despite of their attempts to stop it? Had he, by accident, skipped the time without acquiring the power? Since Noctis was unable to provide an explanation for anything, his friends came up with assumptions of their own.

„Could be that he’s a replacement,“ Gladio said to Ignis.

„Don’t tell me …“ Prompto uttered.

The meaning of their words was completely lost on Noctis, and the words themselves nearly as well. Out of all the questions that came to his mind, one stood out above the others. „Where is everyone else?“

„Everyone else?“ Ignis repeated, apparently unsure who he was talking of.

„You haven’t seen Luna?“

„Not since Altissia ten years ago,“ Gladio replied. „She was killed by that bastard chancellor. Don’t you remember?“

„He probably would’ve taken your life, too, if Iggy hadn’t stopped him,“ Prompto continued, to which Gladio added: „And he’s paid the price for it.“

„What?“

This was all too confusing. Ardyn would never kill Luna. Especially not after helping to save her. And why should they have gone back to Altissia? His friends made it sound like Noctis was supposed to know what they were talking about.

The Royal Advisor turned his head away. „I’m afraid my vision hasn’t recovered.“

It was not that Noctis had not suspected it, but hearing Ignis confirm that he was, indeed, blind, felt like another part of this nightmare had just turned into reality. A dull ache developed in Noctis’ head. „I don’t understand.“ His breath hitched. „Everybody was fine when I left. What about Valyria? Ravus? Aranea? Where’s Ardyn, anway?“

None of his friends dared to reply immediately, and a heavy silence settled between them. Prompto looked the other way and even Gladio failed to meet Noct’s eyes. „Valyria sacrificed herself to …“ he said, but drew a breath before continuing, „to stop the horde of daemons marching onto the Citadel.“ His clenched fists were trembling.

In consolation, Ignis placed a hand on his shoulder. „Ravus was slain and daemonified by Ardyn at Gralea,“ he continued. „We were forced to put him out of his misery.“

„Aranea’s still around, though,“ Prompto said, trying to sound optimistic and failing half-way. „I haven’t spoken to her in a year, but she’s probably somewhere in Lestallum, fighting back the daemons for the locals.“

„That doesn’t make any sense,“ Noctis responded, irritated by their responses. „Why should Ardyn have done any of this? I know it was kind of a close call at Altissia, but Luna survived, and Ravus returned from Gralea alive, just with a broken shoulder. He punched Ardyn in the face this evening. I thought that was the closest the two of them were ever going to get to making up.“

All of a sudden, Gladio grabbed him by his collar and pulled him up to his face. For some reason Noctis could not fathom, he was absolutely furious. „Ardyn is one sick son of a bitch, and I can’t wait to watch the sun rise, even if it means both of you won’t be coming back!“

„Gladio!“ Ignis raised his voice to stop the Prince’s Shield, and reluctantly, Gladio set him back on his feet. „Don’t you see?“ Ignis continued. „He isn’t the Noctis that we know. It seems he stems from a different timeline.“

„Really?“ Prompto asked, looking surprised. „How so?“

„I don’t know,“ Ignis replied to him before turning back to Noctis. „Let me ask you again, Noct. Do you have any idea why you’ve been sent here?“

Slowly, Noctis was beginning to connect the dots. A different timeline. If his friends had spent ten years in darkness, then that could only mean that Ardyn had submitted to fate in the worst way possible, and fulfilled his calling. But what had made him surrender to Bahamut? Something that Noctis did or did not do, or rather …? „Is there another version of me?“

„You … The Noctis we know, he has only just defeated the Adagium and left to ascend the throne, where he …“ Whatever Ignis had intended to say weighed so heavy on his tongue that even he was too close to losing his composure to speak the words. His and Prompto’s expression shifted and deep-running grief became apparent in their features. They were mourning. Not just Valyria, but their king as well.

Noctis gasped. In this very moment, he, or rather, his other self, could be sacrificing himself. „No!“

Just as he was about to storm off, Gladio grabbed him by his arm. „Don’t!“ he said through gritted teeth. „Don’t you dare stop him! He’s lost so much. Hell, everyone’s lost so much! If you stop him now, all those sacrifices will go to waste!“

Noctis struggled in his grasp. „Dammit! Leave me, Gladio!“He did not want to hurt his friend, but he needed to put a stop to this senseless sacrifice, murder and vengeance in the name of Bahamut. „I can still fix this! I just need to talk to him. Him or Ardyn or whoever is up there in the throne room right now.“

„Let him go. There’s no point in holding him up,“ Ignis said to Gladio. „He must have been sent here for some reason. We cannot stand in the way of the gods.“

Gladio did as he had asked, and Noctis stumbled a few steps backwards when he let him go, staring at his friends. Suddenly, he felt alienated from them. They had chosen to place their faith not in him, but in Bahamut and his prophecy.

„Noct.“ Prompto looked sorry to watch him go when Noctis turned around to head for the open doors of the Citadel.

„To send us another version of Noct …“ he heard Iggy’s voice behind him. „What a cruel twist of fate.“

Noctis’ heart still ached from seeing his closest friends so broken, torn apart by their losses, and changed by the hardships they had been through. To see them mourn him even though he had been standing before them, alive and breathing, had been surreal, like a nightmare. In a hurry, Noctis entered the lift. While he waited for it to reach the halfway stop, he could not help but rack his brain, trying to figure out what had gone wrong in this timeline. The fault had to lie either with his other self or Ardyn. He had no idea what it would be like, to talk to himself, least of all to argue with himself, but he had to try. It was all he could think about.

When he burst into the throne room, a man wearing a pin-striped suit and a short cape, just like Regis, was climbing the last steps up to the throne. The Crystal sat on a small pedestal behind the king’s chair, in place of the relief that had adorned the wall. Its glow had vanished. Even deep inside of the geode, darkness had taken over. Just like Noctis remembered from before he had entered the Crystal, there was still a big hole in the wall to the right of the throne, but the staircase had collapsed in places as well. At the sound of Noctis’ hasty footsteps, the stranger at the top of the stairs turned around.

That stranger was Noctis, or rather, what Noctis might look like in ten years if he stopped caring about his hairstyle and tried to grow a beard. There were dirt stains and small tears on his clothes from a recent fight. His expression showed some small surprise at the sight of Noctis standing in the doorway, but mostly great exhaustion.

His older self, who unlike Noctis must have become the True King, sighed and kept his composure. Just like that, he accepted the fact that two of him were now standing in the throne room.

Noctis wished it would be so easy for him as well. He was close to bursting with emotions, questions and demands. „Stop!“ he shouted, his voice bouncing off the high ceiling.

„What is it?“ the True King responded. Noctis hardly recognised his own voice, coming out of someone else’s mouth.

„I want you to stop this pointless sacrifice!“ he continued.

„Pointless?“ That caught the True King’s interest. „Are you saying it won’t bring back the dawn?“

„Yes!“ Noctis lied in reflex, but he quickly reconsidered. „I mean, no. As far as I know, it will bring back the dawn. But there is another way that doesn’t require you to die.“ He blamed Ardyn for getting into his head and making him lie just to quickly stop people from running to their own demise. Good intention. Bad execution.

His older self closed his eyes for a moment, seemingly considering his words before dismissing them. „It’s too late now to change course.“

„It’s not too late! If you submit to fate, you’re giving Bahamut just what he wants, but if you team up with Ardyn, you can free the world from Bahamut’s influence and the scourge. There is a cure!“

A flicker of anger crossed the True King’s face. „Do you even hear what you’re saying? Have you seen the state this world’s in?“

It occurred to Noctis only in that very moment, that, in this other timeline, perhaps Ardyn had not kept the Niffs from destroying the only scientific evidence that medical treatment of the scourge was possible. Or perhaps Luna had not funded the research. Or Ardyn had not convinced the First Secretary to take the team of scientists in when their centre of research had been raided. In this world, there was, very likely, no other option to free it of the scourge but the one that required Noctis and Ardyn to die.

Suddenly, Noctis found himself back in that situation at Cape Caem with Monica and Dustin, when he had needed to come up with an argument and found himself at a complete loss, except that this was even worse. Much worse. There was a world at stake.

„Luna died!“ the True King shouted, pain and grief taking control of his features. He clenched his teeth and fists for a moment. Noctis knew he was struggling to hold back the tears. „Dad died! Valyria sacrificed herself to the daemons, Prompto suffered torture and Iggy gave his eyesight, just so that I can be here and bring mankind back from the brink of annihilation.“ Exhausted from his outburst, he leaned on an armrest and sunk onto the throne. „I don’t want to die,“ Noctis’ older self admitted quietly. „I don’t think any of them wanted to, either, but there is no other way.“

„No, please wait!“ Noctis was running out of time. In desperation, he held up the Ring, hoping to call on the Lucii to support him. A lot of them wanted their line to continue. First and foremost Somnus. Perhaps there was something he could do or say. Only then, Noctis noticed that the Ring on his finger had lost its power. The connection to the Crystal had been severed and the Lucii silenced. It had turned into a mere trinket.

His other self withdrew the Sword of the Father from his armiger and braced himself for what he was about to do. „Many sacrificed all for the King, so must the King sacrifice himself for all,“ he said.

Noctis held his breath as the True King slammed the blade down in front of the throne, and the stone set into the other Ring of the Lucii on the True King’s hand flared up.

At the same time, a more than familiar voice echoed through the throne room. „Allow me the honour.“

A spark of hope ignited in Noctis’ heart. The darkness in the room gathered into a solid form next to the king’s chair, and Ardyn stepped forth with the Rakshasa blade in hand.

Noctis was about to rush up the stairs when Ardyn, in a single, swift motion, plunged the sword into the chest of his older self. Like a gust of wind blowing out a candle, the spark of hope was extinguished.

„No,“ the True King wheezed, reaching for the blade. „I was … So close …“

Ardyn leaned down to him. „I never said I would wait indefinitely for you to join me in the beyond,“ he said and drew his sword back out of the lethal wound. Noctis’ other self slumped back, all life drained from him, and a crack resounded through the room as the Ring of the Lucii on his hand shattered. The light died away and darkness reigned supreme once more.

Noctis was frozen with fear.

Wearing a hate-filled grimace, Ardyn kicked the lifeless body of Noctis’ older self off the throne, and dropped down on the empty seat with his limbs spread before him. „And with that, my vengeance is complete,“ he said, sighing contently as he closed his eyes and sunk into the fabric of his scarf and coat piling up against the backrest.

That was wrong on so many levels. It was sick. It was making Noctis sick as well. His whole body was trembling and his chest was tight with fear. His heart ached like it was close to getting crushed by his own ribs and lungs, all cramped up from witnessing his own death. „Ardyn,“ he forced out, but there were no words to describe or question this unspeakable act of violence.

On top of the stairs, Ardyn’s eyes snapped back open and he leaned forward. „Oh? Was there someone else?“ His gaze fell on Noctis still standing near the entrance. „How curious. Another king. But this one isn’t even ripe yet. Do you truly wish to test your luck against me?“ Ardyn exuded a strong, ominous presence that Noctis had never felt before. Somehow, he just knew, that this Ardyn harboured dark powers several times as strong as the Ardyn Noctis knew and trusted.

„No,“ he uttered in a breath.

„I did not think so,“ Ardyn replied and relaxed on the throne again, looking pleased that he would not have to get up to kill another king.

Still, Noctis struggled to figure out what to say, let alone what to do. „Why?“ he just asked.

„Oh, please.“ There was that same, old, smug expression on Ardyn’s face. „You know exactly why. Surely, you felt that lust for revenge when you came for me? After everything I did to you and your friends just to motivate you? It was a favour returned with interest, by the way. I’ve received nothing but motivation from your family for ages. I even gave you a chance to save this world, and you, oh, so gloriously wasted it!“ He chuckled to himself. „Now, darkness will reign for all eternity. Or until the gods find it in their mercy to put an end to this Star’s wretched existence. It’s all the same to me, honestly.“

Something clicked in that moment, and Noctis realised that this Ardyn had projected the unbridled hatred for his brother onto his entire family. No one had drawn a line and admitted that Somnus had been wrong to act like he did. Perhaps, if Noctis had never empathised with Ardyn in that chasm at Leide’s border, or if Ardyn had never revealed the crimes of the Founder King to him in the first place …

„Actually,“ Ardyn piped up again and rested a foot on the dead body before him, „it wasn’t so much him who wasted his opportunity, but you.“ Noctis took a step back as Ardyn leaned forward on the throne again and looked down on him with wickedness shining in his eyes. „I wonder what brought you here?“

„I didn’t want him to sacrifice himself.“

„And you’ve been very successful at that. Well done, I say! Well done!“ Ardyn laughed at him. „Ah, but you weren’t expecting me, were you? Did I ever tell you that you and I are of the same blood?“

Noctis tried hard to swallow the lump forming in his throat.

„So you already know!“ Ardyn exclaimed with delight, having read the answer off his face. „Pray tell, how did it feel, to watch yourself die at the hands of your dear uncle? It hurts, doesn’t it?“

His betrayal hurt like hell. It hurt so much, in fact, Noctis could not bear to stand in the same room with him and the corpse of his older self a second longer. Most of all because it was his fault. He had been foolish to think this world could be cleansed of the darkness by joining forces against Bahamut. Instead of saving his other self, he had doomed whatever was left of humanity to suffer and die in this daemon-infested darkness, reigned by a king who could not care less.

Torn between fear and guilt, and not wanting to engage Ardyn, either, Noctis turned and fled the throne room. Manic laughter echoed him through the corridor as he rushed, not to the lift, but to the bridge connecting the central tower to the West tower. He could not face his friends outside of the entrance after what had just happened. They hated him already for interfering, and they would hunt him down for getting his other self killed before he could have fulfilled his purpose.

In the West tower, Noctis headed for another lift. When he left the building through the open gate of the Citadel’s car park, his mind was still a mess. His body was still shaking, unable to work through the fear and guilt that were tearing him apart on the inside. Despair overcame him as he realised that there was no way back to his own timeline, and that he would probably never see his friends again. The ones from his world. If only Luna were here with him. She always knew what to say to rekindle a flicker of hope. Then again, a misguided flicker of hope had gotten him into this situation in the first place.

Noctis walked straight forward at a brisk pace with no mind for his surroundings. He did not care where he was going or whether he was running straight into a daemon. All that power of the Royal Arms and the Ring of the Lucii meant nothing in this world. It was beyond saving, and only he was to blame.

Chapter Text

There was pain. Intense, all-encompassing pain that burned away everything. Memories. Thoughts. Emotions. They all flaked away and drifted apart. Mortal fear faded away last, but it too, disintegrated eventually. And then, there was nothing left of him.

The particles were scattered far and wide and yet, a natural force pulled them back together. Not as fast as usual, but the pull was definitely there, for such was the nature of daemonic immortality. Once enough particles had gathered, a sense of self returned, and with it, a desire to exist. It was plain, but strong, and attracted even more fragments of its former self. Without memories or thoughts to sort and shape the miasma, however, the particles were unable to snap back into a familiar shape with the same ease as they usually did. A form of consciousness returned next, just barely enough to perceive the surroundings by the ebb and flow of unfocused dark magic. The cloud of miasma had gathered in the shade of a tree. In front of it, a well-trodden path through fields of wheat led to a stone cottage nearby. In the garden of the cottage, Sylleblossoms bloomed in bold red. Something within the miasma recognised red as the colour of life and magic, and a piece of a memory returned. This scenery seemed vaguely familiar.

Finally, the particles merged together into a known, physical form. Whether it was the sensation of solid ground beneath his feet, or just having feet at all, it caught him so unaware and abruptly, that he instantly stumbled and fell. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, enough to grab a fistful of the dry earth and marvel at the sand running through his fingers like he had forgotten what it felt like to just … be there.

Piece by piece, Emotions and thoughts returned. A blonde woman dressed all in white exited the cottage and ran straight towards him. The sight of her evoked a nostalgic longing deep within, a longing for something he had once loved and lost.

„Ardyn!“ The woman’s voice, overflowing with genuine concern, returned his name to him. He could not think of a more beautiful way to be baptised again.

Tears fell to the dry earth as she dropped to her knees next to him. Her hands pulled his upper body into a tight embrace. In relief, she wept into his hair. „I was so worried you’d never return!“ she exclaimed.

Her closeness inspired a sense of peace in body and soul, which felt foreign and strange, like the very idea of peace had been lost to him, never meant to cross his heart ever again. She had to be the most precious thing in his world to invoke such long-forgotten feelings.

Another memory was restored. „Aera,“ Ardyn addressed her. She was the First Oracle, his fiancée, and his glimmer of hope in the darkest depths of despair. The one light that never stung or burned his eyes.

The woman wiped the tears from her cheeks and helped him to rise to his feet. Despite of her delicate build, Ardyn was forced to lean on her for support. He barely managed to stay upright, and his mind had only just resumed its work.

„I was just about to ask your brother to send a search party for you,“ Aera told him, seemingly unaware of the state he was in. „Whatever happened to you, my love?“

„I don’t know,“ he replied. Not only did he not remember, but he also found that he was too weakened to care about his recent past. As it was, the present still baffled him more than enough. Everything looked and felt familiar, but not enough to understand why.

„Don’t worry,“ she said. „You are home now. Let’s get you inside first.“

With some effort and time, they crossed the distance to the stone cottage together. On the inside, it was furnished with a plain, wooden dining table, a bench and chairs, as well as a cupboard and bookshelf of the same make. A fireplace and a stone kitchen with kitchenware of copper was set into a corner of the main room. There were two smaller rooms to one side, and one more to the other, separated from the main room by heavy curtains.

This place was unfamiliar, or at the very least, it did not spark another memory. He was still taking in his surroundings with mild curiosity, when Aera helped him to sit down on a chair. She remained by his side to check him for any obvious injuries. „Does this hurt?“ Aera pulled up the sleeve of his white robe and felt for bruises and broken bones along his arm.

„No,“ he replied.

She eventually moved onto his face, cupping his cheek and staring intently at his features. „Why, your eyes …“

He startled slightly, suddenly feeling as though something was wrong. „What about them?“

A smile spread on her face. „They are the loveliest shade of blue as ever.“ Her happiness lasted for barely two moments before her expression changed back into one of worry. „Are you sure you’re not hurt? You seem so absent-minded.“

„I’m fine, I think,“ he replied. „Just confused.“

As he looked around once more, she followed his gaze. „Surely you recognise your own home?“

He wished he could tell her that he did, but since he did not want to disappoint, he remained quiet.

She was too clever not to notice, however. „But you do remember me, right?“ Aera looked him straight in the eye, anxiously awaiting his answer.

He gave her a smile. „Of course I do. How could I forget my Aera?“

His fiancée put both of her hands on her hips. Despite of her stern expression, there was a mischievous glint in her eye. „Do you, now? Then tell me: When was the day of our wedding?“

At a loss for words, Ardyn opened his mouth. They were wedded? This was not unappreciated, but certainly unexpected. All of a sudden, he was starting to worry about those gaping sink holes in his memory.

The tension in the air dissipated immediately with Aera’s chuckle. „Oh, what am I asking of you? You hardly remembered last year. Somnus relieved you of so much responsibility, and still, all you think of are the people of his kingdom and their problems.“

„What cruel tricks you play on this confounded, old man, my dear,“ he said.

She bent down to wave a finger in front of his face. „Promise me you won’t go on a pilgrimage alone ever again!“ Aera demanded.

„I do,“ he replied hastily.

Aera’s strict expression gave way to another beautiful smile. „Let me prepare some tea for you. You will see, your confusion will lift soon.“ She took a small metal box from the cupboard and walked over to the kitchen.

Slowly, but surely, the wheels in Ardyn’s mind returned to work at their regular pace, extracting information from her words and processing them. One small piece of information in particular did not sit right with him. The very thought itself stirred something dark and dangerous deep within. „Somnus is king?“

„Of course, silly. You gave away the throne so that you and I could continue to walk among the people you saved. You said you would feel like you were neglecting your duties if you were bound to one place.“

He chuckled darkly. „Ah, yes, what a wise move. That bastard brother of mine will have the kingdom reduced to ash in no time at all.“

„Ardyn!“ In one motion, Aera had turned around and cast an admonishing look at him. „Why would you speak of Somnus like that? He works hard to lead the kingdom, and if he fails, it falls back on you, too. As his elder brother, you are in part responsible for his upbringing and his guidance.“

He would beg to differ, though he lacked a solid counter-argument, or any argument for that matter, and because of this, he chose not to discuss the subject with her further. In hindsight, he did not know what had caused him to say what he did.

They continued to talk for a while, but the conversation remained very one-sided. Aera asked him about his pilgrimage and memories they should have shared from the time before his departure, but the best Ardyn could do was to pretend he remembered bits and pieces so as not to add to her worries. In truth, he hardly remembered anything.

It was the late afternoon when he decided to lie down. Aera and he had agreed that, if the tea did not do the trick, then some rest should help his body and mind to recover. He could not even be bothered to doff the white cape and robe before he dropped onto the mattress of their double-bed.

Little did he know at that time that he would find no rest. Not only took it hours for him to fall asleep, but once he had sunk into slumber, a nightmare played before his eyes.

There was Somnus, calling him a traitor and a monster.

Somnus drawing his sword at him with cold-blooded intent.

Somnus striking down Aera as she tried to protect him.

Somnus dealing blow after blow to him as he sought the gods’ aid in his despair.

Somnus ordering his men to pierce his flesh with chains and hang him by his limbs in a cold and dark stone prison, built to last for ages.

The heavy stone door was pushed shut, casting him in darkness eternal, and Ardyn flung his eyes open.

Even though night had fallen and drained the world of all colour, he could still make out his surroundings in every detail. He lay unceremoniously sprawled across the bed, unintentionally occupying the entire space. Aera had fallen asleep in a sitting position on the floor beside him with her arms and head on the edge of the mattress. Her hand still rested on his arm, and a ghost of a touch lingered on his skin where her finger had been tracing circles through the sleeve.

At the sight of her, the scare of the nightmare passed, and Ardyn’s hastened heartbeat returned to normal.

He got quietly out of bed and draped his cape over her. It was the least he could do for her in return. In a strange way, he felt undeserving of the way she cared about him.

There was no point in trying to go back to sleep. His mind was bright awake and more frantically piecing together past experiences than before. He must have seen this exact nightmare numerous times, and somehow, he was sure to see it replayed yet again if only he closed his eyes.

To avoid disturbing Aera’s sleep, Ardyn tread carefully across the creaking floorboards as he left the cottage to step outside. It was a clear night. Stars were twinkling in the sky, and the Sylleblossoms swayed in a cool and gentle breeze. The darkness soothed his body and soul, but his thoughts kept returning to the unusually familiar nightmare.

It had been almost too real to be a dream, but if Somnus was king because Ardyn had allowed it, it could be no memory, either. Just thinking about the gruesome scenes caused numerous emotions to brush his heart like remnants of events long past. He relived desperation, resignation and guilt, which were all too quickly swallowed by much stronger feelings of hatred and anger. Some of them were directed at his own foolishness to pray to gods that would not answer, but the vast majority of them was centred around Somnus’ actions and the gods’ idleness. The hatred grew, bubbled up like boiling water, when the sound of the cottage door opening caught his attention.

Aera walked out. With her hair tousled and his cape askew on her shoulders, she blinked sleepily at him. „Ardyn?“

„Go back inside, Aera,“ he said, but she did not listen.

She pulled his cape around her and walked slowly up to him. As she took his hand, his hatred vanished like shadows chased away by the light of dawn.

Ardyn guided her to sit down next to him on a log bench in their little garden. Within seconds, she had fallen back asleep with her head resting against his shoulder.

Her affection humbled him. Here he was, sitting on this bench with a broken memory and dangerous emotions threatening to take control, but the way in which she insisted to care for him made him feel like a better person. With Aera by his side, he did not need to worry about his past, present or future. All that mattered was this one moment.

The night passed, and more fragments of memories settled. He recalled sitting in the shade of a tree with Aera and talking to her about his divine calling as a healer. He once relieved a young woman of the scourge, - no, many people, in fact, – and suffered from the same disease running rampant in his body. The same disease he still carried.

With the arrival of dawn, Ardyn carried Aera back inside to escape the sunlight. The prickling and stinging on his skin felt all too familiar. He did not know why he no longer experienced the Starscourge’s symptoms like any other infected, save for the photosensitivity, but he doubted his body would ever remember what it was like to live without it, seeing how this peculiar state seemed to be his definition of normal. His mind dismissed the pain to the edge of his perception with ease. Nonetheless, it remained unpleasant enough for him to seek the shade.

After he had put Aera down onto the bed, Ardyn sought to occupy himself with some useful task until she awoke. He quickly settled on preparing coffee for the two of them, and ran into a number of obstacles faster than expected. The first being the lack of coffee, which was not so much of a problem because he found a bag of ground coffee in his armiger. Good thing he did not need to remember putting something into it to pull it out. Just a general idea of what the item in question looked like was enough. Apart from the coffee, there was also no running water in the kitchen, no coffee machine, no filters and not even an electric kettle. Actually, scratch the latter. There was an electric kettle in his armiger, but then there were no wall sockets. Before long, Ardyn was not so sure anymore what he had set out to do to begin with, why he was looking for so many things, or when he had stuffed his armiger with random objects. He actively remembered breaking the “armiger is only for weapons” rule a few times, but this seemed a bit … excessive.

Fortunately, Aera awoke only after he had recollected everything he had pulled from his armiger, and thus did not have to bear witness to the unholy chaos her kitchen had temporarily sunk into.

On this morning, she suggested to pay Somnus a visit to jog Ardyn’s memory. He refused, in fear of seeing his nightmare come true, or worse, of his hatred bubbling up and boiling over. The thought alone of seeing Somnus sit atop that throne was almost enough for Ardyn to curse his brother’s name again. But, if Somnus truly was innocent, as Aera being alive suggested, Ardyn did not want to hurt his brother because of some false grudge. Of course, he kept his reasons to himself. It was bad enough that he had to live with the fright of the crimes he had seen.

In the end, they agreed to visit the market in the nearby town instead.

A decision was made to travel the short distance by Chocobo. Upon entering the stable behind the cottage, Ardyn was greeted with a cheerful “Kweh!”.

„Why hello there, old girl.“ Even if the black-feathered Chocobo sensed the scourge in him, she did not recoil at his touch. Ardyn enjoyed saddling the adorable bird. It was such a shame that he could not remember her name, but even so, there was again that nostalgia of something once loved and lost. Although he enjoyed the ride, it occurred to him that there was another means of transportation he had grown to like even better. For some reason that was beyond him, however, Ardyn failed to picture his automobile in this environment. How strange that he found himself again looking for something that did not belong into this world.

Not five minutes after Ardyn and Aera had arrived in town and dismounted to lead their birds by the reins, people of all ages left their houses. From the children to the elderly, they all gathered around Ardyn. Cheers for the Healer King filled the air, hands were shaken, and words of relief were uttered at finding him alive and well. Ardyn did not know what he had done to warrant such attention and gratitude, apart from having healed these people, perhaps, but even without any clear recollection of his deeds, he found himself basking in their welcome. In search for potential souvenirs from his pilgrimage to give, he found a handful of silver coins in his armiger that were minted with the image of the Oracle. Although he imagined that sweets would have found greater appeal, the children’s faces still lit up with every coin that changed hands.

Amidst the crowd was a girl, about the age of six, who struggled to limp towards Ardyn as fast as she could, using a walking cane as a makeshift crutch. Her left leg had been amateurishly bandaged. Upon seeing her struggle, Ardyn approached her, but she stumbled and fell before he could prevent it. Only then, the crowd parted to let him and Aera through.

“Now, now. Don’t cry, little lady.” Ardyn sunk to a knee in front of the girl. Already, tears of pain welled up in her eyes and threatened to spill. Bruises on her injured leg indicated that the accident had happened only recently. He remembered being able to cure the scourge, very clearly, in fact, but he was not so sure about other kinds of injuries. On second thought, he was starting to doubt his ability to heal in its entirety. In search for advice, Ardyn looked back at his fiancée.

„Go on,” Aera encouraged him. Her smile gave him the confidence he needed to attempt the healing.

Ardyn reached out to mend the girl’s broken bones by the laying of hands, like he had cured the Starscourge in the past, and his magic responded, flowing to his fingertips. In that moment, a memory all but forced itself upon him.

There was a barren, rocky island surrounded by stormy seas. He, dressed in naught but rags and barely able to stand on his own two feet. Men and women wearing black coats had been shouting orders at each other, to “capture the Adagium”, and “throw it back into its cage”. At the time, Ardyn had only just been dragged from his dark prison by the hands of foreign soldiers. By instinct, he resisted the opposing forces. One of his attackers was caught unaware by the sudden appearance of Ardyn’s trusted blade and suffered a near fatal blow. Through the haze of his weakness and confusion, Ardyn had only seen a man writhing in pain. He bent down to draw the scourge out of him, to relieve him of his suffering, but at his touch, the exact opposite happened: the Starscourge had flowed freely from his fingers. In a matter of a second or two, the darkness had devoured the poor soul whole, daemonified him, and left nothing but miasma that had merged into Ardyn by itself, along with the man’s memories.

„Ardyn?“

Aera’s voice startled him. His mind snapped back to reality like a rubber band drawn to its very end. His heart seemed to have stopped beating, and his breathing stalled. In fear of infecting the girl, he jerked his hand back. That was no royal magic that had gathered at his fingertips, but darkness in its rawest, most powerful form.

Ardyn remembered. No longer was he a healer harbouring the scourge in place of others, but an accursed creature, created by the very same gods he used to believe in, to cast the world in shadows eternal.

Upon seeing his hesitation, Aera knelt down next to him with eyes of worry. „Is something wrong, my love?“

Everyone was expecting him to relieve the girl of her pain. He had to do something, at least.

„I’m utterly sorry,“ Ardyn said to the child and put on a smile. Even he was surprised by how good he was at playing pretend. „My healing abilities seem to elude me after my long and arduous journey. Will a gift lift your spirits, perchance?“ He patted down his robe. „Oh my, wherever did I put it?“

The girl looked at him with curious eyes as he reached behind her ear with his other hand – the one not charged with dark magic by accident – and secretly withdrew a coin from his armiger.

„Ah, there it is!“

It was a simple parlour trick, of course, but enough to baffle the child and make her forget the pain for a short while. „How’d you do it?“ she asked, and he let her take the souvenir from his fingers.

Ardyn shushed her playfully. „It’s a royal secret.“

Thankfully, Aera took it from there, helped the girl back to her feet, found her parents and explained to them how to better treat such injury in the absence of their Healer King.

At hearing the title again, Ardyn nearly failed to keep himself from scoffing at it. He was no Healer King. He was a fraud, merely acting the part. Still, the pretence came natural to him.

The commotion settled slowly and people went their way. When Aera returned to his side, she placed a hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort. „Do not blame yourself. It must be the lack of your memories that compromises your power of healing. Give yourself some more time to recover.“

„I do not recall being able to cure people of anything other than the scourge,“ he said quietly, curious to hear what she knew of his abilities.

„To heal men of whatever ailed them was the gods’ last gift to you,“ she explained. „In recognition of your and Somnus’ labour, the gods descended from the heavens and gave their lives to cleanse the world of its dark blight. Search high and low, you’ll find no more trace of the scourge and its horrors.“

Oh, Ardyn knew where to find plenty of both. For her sake, however, he chose to play along and pretended not to know. „Why, that’s the best news I’ve heard in ages,“ he said, smiling, though he did not feel like it. The gods did not deserve to be revered as martyrs. Not after standing idly by as Somnus had claimed the throne by force. It had not been a nightmare, it had been real, of this Ardyn was certain now, even though he could not tell why his memories differed from the obvious state of affairs. For a fleeting moment, he was tempted to pass a tiny amount of Starscourge to a random townsperson, just to screw up the gods’ reputation. Then again, why should he bother to plunge this world into chaos when the gods were not even around anymore to watch him spit on their sacrifice?

Again, it was Aera who took his hand and caused his darkest thoughts to disperse. Laughing in joy, she pointed at the market stalls ahead. „Oh, look! There are the spices I told you about!“ she exclaimed. „I heard there’s also a stand offering novelties. Do you think we might find someone who sells chess pieces? You were so mad when Somnus returned your chess set and the white king was missing.“

He chuckled. „Well, the throne seats only one, after all.“

But did it matter who sat atop it? Without the scourge and the gods, he began to realise, this world was very close to a paradise. He did not need to be bothered with state affairs, the responsibility, paperwork and finances that bored him to no end. Somnus enjoyed that particular kind of torture, and as long as he did not turn against his own people, why should Ardyn take the reign from him?

Before him lay countless days, to be spend in peace and harmony with Aera. She looked so carefree and happy, just to be by his side, and if he only upheld the image of the Healer King, perhaps he could be happy, too. Just because he could bring about the end of the world at a touch did not mean that it was bound to happen. He had contained the scourge for years before it had blackened his blood, and he could do it again.

Chapter Text

Lunafreya awoke to the feeling of a small, wet nose nudging her cheek. „Stop it, Umbra,“ she murmured, barely even half-awake, and stretched out a hand to hold Umbra back by his chest before he slobbered her face in an over-enthusiastic greeting. Yet her fingers brushed the soft fur of a creature much smaller than her dog. When she opened her eyes, she was looking into the face of a green-furred fox with extra large ears and a long, bushy tail. A small, ruby-red horn protruded from his forehead.

„Oh, it’s you,“ she said. „Carbuncle.“ It must have been ten years or more since she had last seen the High Messenger in her dreams.

With some effort, Luna gathered enough strength to push herself up into a sitting position. Her body felt drained and weakened. Numb in some places and like pins and needles in others. She was almost certain that her infection had worsened, although perhaps not by much. Her magical perception was still recovering from the overflowing light of the Crystal.

The world she found herself in was strange and surreal. Her mind worked hard to understand how she could feel smooth, solid ground beneath her, when she could see none. She seemed to be adrift, in a way, in an otherworldly night sky. Nebulae in blue, red and purple blended into each other, creating a colourful backdrop for the lights twinkling in the distance. A kind of natural magic, raw and ancient like that of the Crystal, permeated this realm.

„Am I asleep?“ she asked Carbuncle. At the very least, she had never seen him outside of a dream before.

„Not anymore!“ With a cheerful chirping noise, Carbuncle turned around and walked a few steps away, to the feet of a woman who had only just appeared in a soft glow.

„This is the heart of the Crystal,“ the stranger explained. „The Astral realm, a crossroads in time and space.“ She wore sandals, a white dress and delicate gold jewellery. Her hair was the same light blonde as Luna’s, but cut at chin-length. The woman also appeared to be a little older than her.

Even at a glance, Luna could tell that she was looking at one of her ancestors, but no name came to her mind. „I’m sorry,“ she said as she struggled back to her feet. „I know I should, but I cannot recall your name.“ She knew her family’s history well. Each and every Oracle had her likeness captured in some form of art. There should not be an Oracle she did not know of.

„It is not your fault that you do not remember,“ the woman said and smiled benignly. „Somnus spread many a lie after my death. I am Aera Mirus Fleuret, the First Oracle. Pleased to make your acquaintance.“ She made a move to help Luna get to her feet, but her fingers passed through Luna’s arm. „Ah, I’m sorry.“ Aera laughed softly, looking abashed. „I sometimes forget that I no longer have a physical form.“

„So you are the first of my line?“ Luna asked, trying to understand how they were related exactly. Her family was not as much of a straight line as the line of Kings. Unlike house Caelum, house Fleuret had seen many siblings, and sometimes the magical abilities had been passed down by brothers to daughters, even though they only manifested in the women of her family.

„Not directly, I’m afraid,“ Aera explained. „That would have been my sister, Tera Mirus Fleuret. Somnus made her into the First Oracle and travelled the lands with her, so that his people were quick to forgive and forget my murder. By accepting her role, she took my name and hers was forgotten.“

Behind of her, in another soft glow, a man in black robes appeared. He stood with his back half-turned towards them and his arms crossed. „Don’t you go slandering my name as well, Aera. You know full well I never meant to strike you down that day. What I did afterwards, I only did to ensure the kingdom’s peace.“

Her lips formed a thin line and the look in her eyes grew steely. „Well, tell me, King of Lucis; Have you found your descendant yet?“ Aera turned around to him with her head held high. „Because unlike you, I never lost sight of my sister’s child or my beloved.“

His expression hardened. „The Lucii are looking for him as we speak,“ he admitted.

„Noctis,“ Luna uttered in a breath. „What happened to him?“

„Come and I’ll show you,“ Aera said, and she had regained her light-hearted tone of voice as quickly as she had lost it. She went ahead and Carbuncle bounded after her, chirping.

As Luna went to follow her she could not help but stare at Somnus‘ face in passing. His resemblance to Noctis was uncanny, as she had been told before, but from the expression in his eyes to his demeanour and the way he spoke, the difference between them could not be greater. The moment she walked away from the spot where she had come to, Somnus disappeared.

Although there were no landmarks, Aera seemed to know exactly which way they had to go. „Due to the Draconian’s intervention,“ she explained. „Noctis and Ardyn have fallen through the Crystal. Only you were saved, thanks to the efforts of the Glacian.“

The nebulae parted, and Bahamut himself appeared in the distance. Although the Cosmogony had pictured him as a man with the horns and the wings of a black dragon, his true form was that of a warrior, clad in a dark blue and golden armour with draconic features. His helmet resembled the wide open jaws of a dragon, his gauntlets and boots ended in claws, and a tail made of the same golden and blue armour swung behind him. In place of wings, flowing ribbons of dark red fabric were attached to his back.

Underneath of a ball of brilliant golden light, greater than any of the Astrals, Bahamut swung a greatsword at the many, much smaller apparitions of Shiva. At the same time, blades of light danced around him, keeping the Pyreburner and his flames at bay. Titan was there as well, pressing his hands against the ball of light in what looked like an attempt to hold back the energy.

Luna did not stop walking to watch the fierce battle, and yet, the angle from which she observed never changed, nor did she come closer. Space itself seemed to be warped in the realm of the Astrals.

„What do you mean, they have fallen through the Crystal?“ she asked Aera and stopped abruptly as sharp-angled planes of varying sizes became visible around her. They mirrored the colourful night sky of the realm like the shards of a broken mirror, making them near impossible to spot from afar.

Aera turned back to her. „Within the Crystal lies the soul of our Star. Everything our world is, has ever been, will ever be, or could be.“ She gestured at the shards nearby. „Each of its myriad facets reflects one possible future, past or present, be it good or bad.“

„A dream is just a glimpse into another world,“ Carbuncle chirped, cheerful as only the little Messenger could be. „I’m here to pick the good ones, or make the bad ones less bad.“

Luna took a close look at one of the shards, and as she approached, the reflection cleared to reveal an image of her brother. He was lying on the floor in the council chamber of the Citadel and screaming, writhing in pain, as purple flames burned his left arm to ashes. The Ring of the Lucii rolled ownerless across the charred floor.

„Ravus,“ she uttered in a gasp, before realising that it was not real, or at least, it was something that had not happened in her version of Eos. Hastily, she stepped back and the facet returned to its mirror-like state.

Another shard drifted slowly past her. It showed Noctis and herself, still in her wedding gown. Behind the newly wedded couple, men in ceremonial dress were carrying a casket, atop of which lay the Chancellor’s hat.

Yet another shard revealed a curious scene. Ardyn was sitting at a table in a modern-day apartment and packing up small dolls in gift boxes while a very much alive-looking Somnus lounged lazily on a couch in the background. Luna could not make sense of that one at all.

The images faded again.

When she turned back to Aera and Carbuncle, she noticed a single black particle in the air. Her sensed were still dulled, but recovered slowly. The dark presence of the Accursed felt so faint and distant that she had not noticed it at first. There was another particle, further up ahead. They seemed to mark a trail towards a particular facet of the Crystal, like a thin column of smoke rising from a crash site. It led to the facet Aera was standing next to.

„Without guidance, I fear that neither Ardyn nor Noctis will find their way back,“ the First Oracle said, and her eyes trailed the stray particles with great concern. „Lunafreya, as the sole living person in this realm, only you can cross over. I beseech you to bring back my beloved. Carbuncle will help you.“

The little green fox at her side chirped in response. „Only say the word, and I’ll open a way back for you!“

The Crystal’s facet next to Aera was about as large as a grown man. As Luna approached it, the mirror images of herself, Aera and Carbuncle faded away. Beyond the shard lay a land of blue skies and golden fields of wheat. A lone, white tower rose in the distance.

#-#-#

Back in front of the Citadel, Ravus, half-way drenched by the rainstorm and with his hair sticking to his face, readied his sabre to intercept Odin as the High Messenger took another run-up at the building. Sleipnir was charging towards him up the stairs, its head was lowered to run Ravus right through with its horn.

„Gravisphere, now!“ he shouted over to the scrawny blonde. Names? He did not know and did not care. This was not the time for introductions.

The scrawny gunner turned around to him. „Eh, what?“

„Gravisphere! Now!“ Ravus repeated with greater urgency.

Finally, the blonde switched firearms to shoot a gravisphere at Sleipnir’s head. He did not hit his target, but the pull of the artificial centre of gravity was still strong enough to force the Spiracorn to turn its head, and thus, its horn, away from Ravus.

A second before it might have trampled Ravus, he slashed at the creature’s front legs. Thanks to his lightning-imbued blade and the damage already dealt by Noctis’ retainers, he cut clean through the first pair of front legs and into the second. Ravus jumped to the side as Sleipnir collapsed mid-run on the staircase. First, its limbs dissolved in a golden glow, then the rest of its body followed, and the black-armoured warrior jumped off his steed at the last moment so as not to go down with it.

A gust of wind as strong as a shockwave rushed down the staircase when Odin landed in front of the Citadel’s entrance.

The former High Commander was knocked over, but managed to roll back to his feet a little further down the stairs. At the same time, the gunner tumbled off the side of the staircase and dropped with a splash into the water basin below. The Prince’ Shield, who had braced himself against his great shield, caught Valyria by her wrist before she, too, would have been pushed off the edge.

„Regroup!“ the Royal Advisor shouted. A split second later and Ravus would have issued the same command.

There was a moment for all combatants to catch their breath and reassemble. It was also their first opportunity to send someone to go and get the former Commodore. Now that Sleipnir was out of the way, Ravus could part with one ally. He liked Aranea no more than any other Niff, but her skills with the magitek-enhanced spear were unparalleled. She was, without a doubt, a valuable ally.

But who to send? From what he had seen so far, Ravus had narrowed the choice down to either the young gunner or the Royal Advisor. The gunner he had chosen, because … Well, the sight of him dragging himself up the staircase, dripping wet, was enough reason why already. He seemed to attract mishaps Ravus could do well without. The Advisor Ravus had chosen, because they were both able to coordinate a team, making one of them redundant. In contrast to the Shield and Sword, the Advisor also did not add considerably to their attack force. However, he could be trusted to make the right decisions on the way to the wreckage of Aranea’s ship and back.

Ravus shook out his sword and a last bolt of lightning flickered across the blade before the spell wore off. „You there, Royal Advisor,“ he addressed the bespectacled man standing further down the stairs.

„His name’s Ignis,“ Valyria corrected him.

„Fine,“ Ravus bit back and cast a quick glance at Ignis. „I want you to go and look for Aranea. Now.“

In a flash of gold, a lance appeared in Odin’s left hand.

„What, now?“ the Shield protested.

„Yes, now! Do you always question orders you’ve been given?“

Out of the corner of his eye, Ravus saw the Shield clenching his teeth.

„You can’t send Iggy,“ Valyria objected. „What about the daemons out there?“

Ravus readied his sword once more. The High Messenger, who did not care about their conversation in the least, was walking towards him, slowly, but determined. „I will not suffer your insubordination, Valyria, so hold your tongue lest you want me to turn my blade to you!“

With a quick step forwards, Odin thrust his lance at him. Ravus deflected the attack and dove below the follow-up slash of the deadly blade to step around the warrior and retaliate, yet his sabre only caught Odin’s cape.

„I will go,“ he heard Ignis shout from the foot of the staircase. „We mustn’t fight among ourselves.“

At least he understood. Ignis’ words proved to Ravus that he had made the right choice. Now, he only needed to coordinate this bunch of misfits. „Focus your attacks!“ he ordered them. The sharp edge of Odin’s sword forced him back as he tried to lunge at the High Messenger again.

From the other side, the Prince’s Shield swung his great sword at Odin, but his blade was stopped by the hilt of Odin’s lance. With a slash of his deadly sword, the Messenger cleaved right through the Shield’s blade, snapping it in two. Suddenly left with only half a weapon, the Prince’s Shield stumbled back.

Valyria immediately rushed in to close the gap and covered the divine warrior, top to bottom, in roaring flames from Solferrum’s blade that spread like the wings of a flaming bird.

On the other side, Ravus backed away from the heat.

Odin swung both weapons around himself, shaking off the fire and forcing Valyria back, then raised his sword high above his head. A golden glow engulfed his blade.

„Scatter!“ Ravus shouted in alarm.

In the nick of time, the Shield and Sword jumped out of the way.

When Odin brought his sword down, it cut down the entire length of the staircase. The unlucky gunner, who was still on his way back up the stairs, had opened fire at the Messenger again, but the cut reached further than expected. His auto crossbow was rent apart as he dodged to the side.

At this rate, they were going to run out of weapons before long.

Ravus cast a bolt of lightning at Odin from behind, dodged another swing of the Messenger’s blade to retaliate with an uppercut that drove his opponent a step back, and followed up with a more focused blast of magic. When Odin raised his sword to protect himself, Ravus noticed that the blade seemed to attract the bolts of lightning. Although Odin’s stoic expression showed no emotion, sparks flew from his entire armour. The lightning ran right through him.

„Valyria!“

„On it!“ The Sword took over the moment Ravus ran out of magic, and continued to push Odin further down the stairs, away from the building. Sparks flew as she clashed blades with the divine being. Only Solferrum withstood the sharp edge of Odin’s sword without breaking. The orange orb embedded into the legendary arm glowed brighter the more flames leapt from its blade at the opponent. Yet although the High Messenger’s armour began to glow red from the heat building up, he held his ground.

Ravus tried to summon the lightning again to aid her in her efforts, but his limbs felt leaden all of a sudden and he was overcome by a temporary dizzy spell. This had to be stasis. „Curses!“ he hissed.

With another round slash, Odin cleared the space around him, knocking back both Valyria and the Shield, before he jumped off the staircase, down to the courtyard. Once more, he raised his blade for a devastating cut.

Just then, electricity crackled in the air. A massive amount of magic gathered around them. Ravus lifted his gaze to the skies. Was it the blood of the Oracle in his veins that had summoned the Astral? Or were they taking pity on him, the fool, who had tried so hard to be worthy of their recognition?

„Mighty Stormsender!“ Ravus shouted to the skies. „Cast your divine judgment on our foe!“

Thunder boomed as the clouds parted, and the Fulgurian descended with his staff in hand. Ramuh’s appearance was that of an old, bald man with an enormous white beard that melded with his blue robe where his feet should be. With every strike of lightning that hit his staff, Ramuh’s hand jerked further up.

Meanwhile, Odin’s blade had begun to glow with an intense, golden light. The black-armoured warrior’s gaze was fixed on Ravus atop the stairs. Thin, harmless bolts of lightning formed between the clouds and Odin’s raised blade. When the High Messenger finally looked up, Ramuh cast his staff down at him. It transformed into a massive bolt of glaringly bright lightning that struck Odin and singed the courtyard. Odin’s entire body lit up and spasmed for a second before it burst into a shower of golden particles.

Ravus bowed before the god as a sign of his gratitude and respect. „Praise be to the Fulgurian,“ he said.

The Stormsender faded away, the rain stopped, clouds dissipated and the night sky with its peacefully twinkling stars returned. Odin was gone. Only a charred pothole remained where Ramuh’s bolt of lightning had hit the Citadel’s courtyard.

„Holy crap! Did you summon Ramuh?“ the scrawny gunner asked, walking up the rest of the stairs to join them.

„If only it were so,“ Ravus replied and sheathed his sword. Out of habit, not out of necessity. „Perhaps my sister has sent him, or perhaps he sensed our need for assistance. Either way, there is still a greater battle ahead. We need to be thankful for any aid that is offered.“

„What now? Should we go after Ignis?“ the Shield asked.

„No,“ Ravus replied. „Take stock of the weapons you have left, treat any wounds and save your strength. We do not have the luxury of wearing ourselves out on the daemons that roam Insomnia’s streets. Noctis’ advisor can call for help if he needs it, though I doubt that he will.“ He turned around and walked towards the Citadel’s entrance, prompting the others to follow him. „The man moves strategically. He will be able to avoid the daemons on his way.“

They settled on the black couches around the hall. From his share of Noctis’ armiger, the Shield summoned a towel to pass it to the scrawny blonde, who was still dripping wet from his accidental dive into the water basin.

Technically, the Citadel offered everything; Bathrooms, kitchen, beds. They were not theirs to use, but with no one else present, who was going to complain? Washing up and lying down, however, was another luxury Ravus could not afford, not with the Bladekeeper making an entrance anytime soon. He tried to fix his hair as best as he could before sitting down. – Ravus hated looking so dishevelled. It was beneath his standards.

While his allies took stock of their arms, he tried to squeeze in some rest. Once the excitement of battle waned, his sore shoulder began to cramp up. He closed his eyes and sunk against the backrest. Luna’s efforts had helped, but still, Ravus doubted he was going to dual-wield two swords again soon. For the time being, he would have to make due with just one blade and this elemental magic Noctis had granted him.

„Uhm, do you mind if I …?“

When Ravus cracked an eye open, the scrawny blonde whose name he still did not know held up his smart phone.

„Why do you ask me for permission?“

„Prompto’s afraid you’re going to beat him up if he doesn’t,“ the Prince’s Shield replied.

„Yeah, with the stick you’ve got up your …,“ Valyria mumbled, but the Shield jabbed her with his elbow before she could finish the sentence. „Ow, Gladio!“

Ravus shot her a glare. Noctis was clearly not the only Lucian who lacked proper decorum.

Her face was flushing. „Sorry,“ she said and fidgeted sheepishly with a red lock of her hair.

In the meantime, Prompto had been tapping and swiping at his phone. A strange method of recuperation, but Ravus was not going to question it. Being roughly eight years older was apparently enough to get out of touch with the habits of the younger generation.

„Oh. Em. Gee,“ Prompto exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at the brightly lit screen.

„What is it?“ Gladio asked.

„Nothing,“ he hastily replied and pulled the phone close to his chest as if to hide whatever he had been looking at.

A mischievous grin spread on Gladio’s face. He got up to walk over. „Oh, now I gotta see.“ Noctis’ Shield dropped down on the other couch and simply took the smart phone from the gunner’s hand.

Prompto’s eyes darted over to Ravus, but he avoided the eye contact, while Gladio examined whatever he had found online. Although he was trying to hide his grin by clapping a hand over his mouth, Gladio nearly burst with laughter. „Hey, Ravus! Is this the reason the Empire had you on a tight leash?“

Ravus narrowed his eyes at him. „What are you talking about?“

Curiosity having gotten the better of her, Valyria, too, walked over. „Lemme see.“

Gladio turned the screen to her. All that Ravus could make out from the other side of the reception hall was a video clip of people dancing.

„Oh! Oh, that’s what you found!“ she exclaimed and a chuckle escaped her lips despite of how firmly she pressed them together. „Sorry, Lord Ravus, but this is still grade A blackmailing material.“ She turned to the scrawny blonde. „How did you even find that? I thought the internet was down all across Insomnia.“

„The guest wi-fi is still working.“

Ravus was starting to get an idea of what they were looking at. Finally, he too, rose from his spot to join the three of them on the other side of the reception hall.

Noctis’ friends were watching a video clip that showed Ravus at the age of fifteen, whose hair had been shorter then, but already combed back in an orderly manner. He was wearing fancy glasses and glowing bracelets, going all out amidst a jumping and cheering crowd at a public Tenebraen dance club. Fittingly, the title of the video read „Prince of Rave“.

For Ravus, there was nothing to be ashamed about. It had been a phase in his life. „What? Have you never snuck away from home to have fun elsewhere when you were a teen?“

„You? Having fun?“ Glasio asked with a chuckle.

„This video was taken one year before the invasion of Fenestala Manor,“ Ravus explained. Ever since, his life had been just one misery after another. Fun had become a distant memory. But back then, when his life had been happier and the times less worrisome, dancing had been a decent diversion from his daily routine of studying and training. Ravus doubted that Noctis had ever worked as diligently towards becoming a worthy ruler as he had. Judging by the Prince’s attitude and skills, Regis had probably allowed him to lounge around for half his life.

„I still have the moves,“ Ravus claimed in response to the challenging smirk on Gladio’s face.

The smirk widened into a grin. „You’re on.“

„Sorry, boys!“ a woman’s voice resounded through the reception hall. „But the party doesn’t start till this lady walks in!“

„Aranea!“ Prompto exclaimed in relief.

In the open doorway of the middle door stood the former Commodore with the arm of one of her right-hand men slung around her shoulder. Pieces of her shoulder plates had broken off, her helmet was missing and there was a bloody scratch across her cheek, but all things considered, she was doing well. At least better than her men.

The one she was dragging with her through the doorway had his head bandaged and dried blood was coating the lower leg of his trousers. He appeared to be barely conscious. Biggs? Or was Wedge the one in the dark trench coat? Ravus always confused them.

Ignis was helping the other one, the one in the white coat, through the entrance. His arm was in a makeshift sling and his face looked thoroughly roughed up, but that was not the reason he was struggling to stay upright. „Oi, Lady A! See? See! Told ya we’d make it!“ He hiccuped. „’Twas either us or the daemons, right?“

„Don’t mind Biggs,“ Aranea said to Noctis’ party and lowered Wedge on an empty couch. „He’s had a swig too many. Things weren’t exactly looking pretty for us when we made it out of the wreckage.“

„Their injuries were quite severe. I fear I had to use up my stock of potions just to get them back on their feet,“ Ignis added.

Biggs gave everyone a goofy grin and a thumbs up once he had made it to one of the many seating accommodations around the room, like it was something to be proud of.

„Where’s the rest?“ Aranea asked.

„Not in this realm anymore,“ Ravus replied. „They will battle the Bladekeeper from within the Crystal.“

„Riiiight,“ Aranea replied and turned to him. „And who left you in charge? I was half-expecting the Prince to have sent you packing back to Niflheim.“

„It’s much worse than that. I’ve pledged my sword to his cause.“

She put a hand to her hip, smiling. „Colour me impressed.“

Chapter Text

This version of Eos Luna found herself in looked nothing like the Eos of her present. A wide dirt road, flanked by fields of wheat to either side, led into a nearby village of simple, stone-built houses with thatched roofs. In place of glass windows, thick curtains or wooden shutters covered the openings in the walls of houses. The architecture reminded Luna of settlements depicted in history books about the humble beginnings of Lucis’ culture.

Since she had been left with no instructions on how to find Ardyn, Luna made her way to the settlement to find someone who might have seen him. In the middle of the village square, merchants were packing up their goods and stalls and loading them onto wagons drawn by Chocobos. It seemed Luna had only just missed the market.

Many of the people shot curious glances her way as she passed by. Compared to their plain and simple garb, her modern-day „adventuring gear“, from her laced boots and jeans, to her beige-coloured jacket, must have looked very foreign. The ceremonial dress she had worn during the rite at the Altar of the Tidemother would have allowed her to blend in more easily, perhaps, but this was not the time for a change of clothes. Even if time moved differently between the realms, it still moved forward, relentlessly inching closer to the destruction of her home world by an upset god.

Luna approached an elderly man who was tending to a Chocobo harnessed to the front of a wagon. „Excuse me, kind sir,“ she said. „I am looking for a man by the name of Ardyn Izunia.“

„Hm?“ The moment the man turned around to her, he too, regarded her choice of clothes with a curious look, before his expression changed from surprised to thoughtful. „Izunia, you say? Now, where have I heard that name before?“

„You might have noticed him passing through. He is dressed in a dark coat, and moves like a man without hurry or destination.“ Luna was about to describe him further when she remembered what Noctis had told her. Ardyn had been born in the founding era, as a son of house Caelum. „Perhaps you know him better as Ardyn Lucis Caelum?“

The old man’s face lit up. „Why, yes, our Healer King! Why didn’t you say so sooner? I’m afraid you only just missed him and his wife,“ he said and pointed down the road, to where it led back out of the village. „They were on their way back to their summer cottage. You only need to follow this old path to its very end.“

His mentions of Ardyn being a Healer King and having a wife confused Luna slightly. Through the Crystal’s facets, she had seen other versions of Ardyn. Could it be that there was more than one of him in this world, and that the man was talking about the wrong one? Either way, any lead on his whereabouts was better than none. Luna bowed politely. „Thank you kindly,“ she said, but as she was about to walk away, the old man continued talking.

„Oh, now I remember! Izunia was the maiden name of the old Lady Caelum.“

„Lady Caelum?“

„The mother to our two kings,“ the man explained „They say her eldest son took after her. Oh, it must have been decades since I last heard the name of her family.“ He shook his head. „Never mind this old man’s ramblings. You must surely be on your way.“

„Indeed, I do.“ She nodded. „Thank you again.“

Luna picked up her pace as she made her way out of the settlement. Even if the path would lead her to another version of Ardyn, the one she was after should be nearby. Common sense told her that he had likely not strayed very far from where their worlds intersected. At the very least, if she were in his position, she would have liked to find out what kind of life that other version of her lived.

Bathed in bright and warm sunlight, she continued along the dirt path through the fields. In passing, she gently ran a hand over the ears of wheat. They promised a bountiful harvest. Sounds of cicadas and songs of birds filled the air. A kind of peace ruled this version of Eos, the kind she hoped her own world would come to know one day.

It would have been a pleasant walk, had it been not for the prickling of pins and needles on her skin. Her infection acted up, worse than before she had entered the Crystal. Only the occasional tree offered a bit of shade, but Luna never stopped to rest. She considered retrieving the vial from Noct’s armiger, the one gifted by the Tenebraen research team, but hesitated. It was thanks to the Starscourge in her that they had been able to make it as far as they had and perhaps there was some more use for it, still.

The path had grown narrow and Luna’s legs were starting to become weary when, finally, a stone cottage came into view. From afar, Luna spotted Aera in front of the cottage, alive and healthy, tending to her own little garden of red Sylleblossoms.

The crunching of sand and earth underneath of Luna’s boots caused Aera to look up. She rose from where she had squatted beside the flowers and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. „Oh, hello.“ Aera greeted her with a smile. „I wasn’t expecting a visitor. You seem like you’ve travelled a long way. May I ask what led you out here?“

Luna bowed respectfully before entering the garden. „Please forgive my intrusion, but I’ve come to seek the counsel of Lord Caelum.“

„I see.“ There was a sympathetic look in Aera’s eyes, as though Luna had told her of her affliction. „I’m afraid he can’t do much for you at present. His last pilgrimage has left him exhausted, and he is still recovering.“

„I promise I shan’t be long. A few moments of his time are all that I’ve hoped for.“

Aera’s gaze strayed to the distance as though she was seeking the advice of someone else. „Well, I’m loath to turn away someone who has travelled so far just to see him, and all by themselves, too.“ She pointed Luna towards a figure sitting in the shadow of a tree, just beyond the nearest field of wheat. „You will find him by the tree over yonder. When you speak to him, please bear in mind that he is still weakened. Be patient and gentle, and I’m sure he will help you as best as he can.“

„I shall,“ Luna said and bowed once more. „You have my thanks.“

No sooner had she begun walking towards the figure in the distance than her sixth sense for the divine and the daemonic alerted her to the ominous presence of the Accursed. It was strong this time, not just the faint traces she had sensed back in the realm of the Astrals, and it was, without a doubt, centred around the man sitting by the trunk of the tree, dozing.

With the long, brown hair and the layers of clothes in white and off-white, the image of the man before her was a far cry from the Niflheim Chancellor of the modern era. At first glance, he looked to be sleeping peacefully, but there was something about his expression that suggested otherwise.

Still, Luna hardly dared to rouse him. „Ardyn,“ she addressed him quietly.

At the sound of her voice, he blinked himself awake and sat up, rubbing his eyes. When he gazed up at her, a look of surprise was painted across his features. „Pardon my confusion, but have we met before?“

Luna was slightly taken aback. Why did he not recognise her?

He got up from the ground. „I must say, your face has something distinctly familiar about it. Are you related to Aera, perchance?“

„In a way, yes,“ she replied.

Ardyn smiled at her. „How very kind of you to stop by. And right in time for tea, too! I’m certain my dearest Aera will be delighted to meet you.“ He turned around to walk back to the cottage.

„Ardyn.“ This time, as she addressed him, she spoke with concern for him and their Eos, and he stopped.

„Don’t you feel out of place?“ Luna asked.

He looked back at her, still with that blissfully cheerful expression on his face. „Whatever do you mean by that, my dear?“

„I know how strange this must sound to you, but …,“ she began cautiously and stepped closer to him. „There is a world that desperately needs your help, and it is not this one.“

Slowly, the smile faded from his features. It seemed Luna had struck a note.

„Open your eyes to the Bladekeeper’s machinations, Ardyn,“ Luna continued, determined to make him see the truth. „You are being tempted to give up everything in exchange for this fragile dream of light and peace. I beseech you not to be selfish. Not now out of all times.“ As much as it pained her to shed light on it, but he was neither healer, nor king or husband. He could not be, not with this amount of daemonic energy enshrouding him. „It appears that you have only taken a place that belonged to another. It won’t be long before everything falls apart around you, and then there won’t be a home for you to return to.“

He closed his eyes and scoffed at her. „What home is there for the eternal wanderer, if not the world with all its wonders?“

The sounds of quick and heavy footfalls and the rattle of metal armour drew their attention back to the dirt path winding down from the village through the fields. Four men on the backs of Chocobos hurried towards the cottage. Two of them were foot soldiers clad in metal and leather, one was a white-haired warrior, tall, old and proud, and the one leading the party was the black-robed younger brother of Ardyn. Unlike the others, Somnus’ bird was one of the rare, black feathered kind, befitting his status as a regent.

He brought his steed to a skidding halt, jumped off and ran up to Aera. The hurry in his steps told of a matter of great importance. The wind carried some of the words that passed between them over to Luna and Ardyn.

„Somnus, what is the matter? Has something happened?“

„Aera, I … I bring grave news.“ From his armiger, he summoned a red long sword to show her. With his head bowed, he told her of whatever had transpired, too quiet for Luna to hear, but his gestures spoke of grief and guilt.

Aera gasped, clasping both hands over her mouth.

In consolation, Somnus reached out to pull her into an embrace, but she pushed him away, shaking her head. „No!“ she shouted. „No, it can’t be! He’s alive!“

In an instant, her and Somnus’ gazes flew over to Ardyn on the other side of the field. Fright and confusion became apparent in the Founder King’s features. He looked at his brother as though he had seen a ghost.

„Here I am, reduced to a phantom once more,“ Ardyn said with a sigh, and all of a sudden, there was no more trace of the forgetfulness or false cheer he had displayed earlier.

„But – I saw your body!“ Somnus pointed the red blade at him. „Who are you, then? Reveal yourself, imposter!“

„No! Somnus, don’t!“ Aera tried to push past him, but the white haired warrior stepped in to keep her out of the impending fight.

Ardyn watched the scene unfold before him with an aloof, sombre expression and a glint of hatred in his eye. „Again, tragedy repeats itself,“ he said. „It appears there is no place for me in either past or future.“

Luna stepped up to his side. „But there is always a place for you in the present,“ she argued. „Stand with us.“

In a wink, he turned his attention to her and gave her a smile, seemingly grateful for the reminder. „Has anyone ever told you that are a blessing to our world, Lady Lunafreya?“ He gestured towards the distance. „Please, lead the way.“

She folded her hands in prayer, closed her eyes and focused her thoughts on the Astral realm. „Carbuncle, can you hear me?“

„Sure do!“

There was a shattering sound right next to her, reminiscent of thin glass splintering and breaking. When she opened her eyes again, the very fabric of space had burst open beside her and Ardyn like a broken mirror. Loose shards floated around them. Beyond the hole in space lay the Astral realm, and the little Messenger of dreams sat on the other side, with his bushy tail swishing behind him. Aera’s ghost was not with him.

In the Eos of the founding era, time had ground to a halt. Somnus had been frozen in the middle of running towards them, and Aera remained trapped in the moment she tried to wrestle herself free from the warrior’s grasp.

Luna could not help but notice the sad look Ardyn cast back at the First Oracle before he walked through the opening to the Astral realm.

Once both of them had passed, the shards reassembled behind them into a single, smooth surface. The image of the abundant fields of wheat faded, and Luna’s and Ardyn’s reflections appeared in their place.

The way he stared at the mirror image of the healer did not bode well. His features hardened, anger rose to his eyes and for a moment, Luna worried to see him smash the Crystal’s facet with his bare fist.

„Never again shall I pray to the light!“ he declared, his voice seething with anger. „The gods and their games be damned!“ Shadows fell over his face as dark wisps rose from his body. The scattered miasma particles in the Astral realm were drawn to him.

Carbuncle sought cover near Luna. With flattened ears, the little messenger peeked out from behind her legs.

„Hear me, O wretched Bladekeeper!“ Ardyn turned around abruptly, his white cloak billowing behind him, and clutched the knot of the cord that held the garment in place around his shoulders. „This dark blessing of yours is mine, mine alone to command, and by the accursed heavens, I shall wield it against all who have wronged me!“

With force, he tore the cloak off. White fabric dispersed into particles, and his appearance shifted back into the dark-clad, red-haired and daemon-eyed Accursed all the while dark energy continued to swirl around him.

„Ardyn! It’s so good to see you.“

Aera’s laughing voice wiped the deadly determined look clean off his face, leaving him baffled. The wisps of shadow rising from him disappeared and the dark energy calmed back down.

„Aera?“ He looked around. „My Aera?“

Her spirit materialised before him, smiling.

„Is this another dream?“ he asked.

„This is as real as it can be,“ Aera explained and walked up to him. „Though my body has perished, my spirit remains to stand watch, for as long as the King to this Oracle lives.“ When she caressed his cheek with her weightless touch, his expression grew soft again.

„Does this mean you have been beside me all this time?“

„Closer than you think,“ she replied quietly. „Though I am afraid that our reunion has to wait.“ With a wink and a smile, she turned back to Luna. „I know now where Noctis is.“

A sigh of relief escaped Luna’s lips.

„We best make haste,“ Aera continued, casting concerned looks at Ardyn and Luna. „I am worried that the Chosen King may be in acute danger.“

Ardyn chuckled to himself. „Ah, yes. How could I forget about my ever incautious nephew?“

#-#-#

In the world of darkness, Noctis was still walking away from the Citadel. His pace was brisk, his mind was elsewhere, and the collision with a daemon inevitable.

He did not know how much time had passed since he had fled from the sight of his own murder, nor did he care. Although the fear that had painfully clutched his chest had subsided, it had left behind a gaping hole of hopelessness. There was no way out of this decaying world, no indication that his friends would come to help, and if he had to stay, his choices were not looking any better. Either he went up against the murderous Ardyn seating Insomnia’s throne, which very likely got him killed – or he looked for the friends of his other, dead self, which was less likely to get him killed, but they were very unlikely to forgive him, either. If Noctis were in their place, he would never forgive himself.

He slowed his steps. Near a crossroads, Noctis stopped and leaned against the crumbling wall of a building. Eventually, exhaustion and despair had drained him of his energy. Without the will to go any further, he let himself slide down to the pavement and lowered his forehead onto his knees. All this time he had been staring into the dark, trying to make out anything, and it had led to a dull headache deep in his eye sockets.

The distant screeches of daemons still filled his ears. This world was a never-ending nightmare.

For a minute at best, he had been sitting there, when he felt the ground tremble with heavy footsteps. Noctis looked back up to see a daemon walk onto the crossroads – the largest he had ever seen, if only slightly larger than the daemonified Behemoth. It resembled a three-headed dog, its skin glowed a fiery red, and embers flew from its open jaws. Many parts of its body were covered in thick, black plates, like armour fused to its skin.

A sense of self-preservation kicked back in, and Noctis rose from the ground as he saw the daemonic beast sniff around the crossroads for prey.

He backed away slowly and carefully, but to no avail. In a heartbeat, all three of the daemon’s heads turned towards him. The Cerberus let out a low growl. A thin, long tail whipped behind it.

„As if this day couldn’t have gotten worse,“ Noctis uttered bitterly. Fighting this thing seemed pointless. Why fell one daemon, when there were ten others ready to take its place? He turned and ran, and the Cerberus bounded after him.

#-#-#

The moment Luna set foot into the world Noctis had become trapped in, she could see his predicament. Or rather, she saw that there was nothing to see, because the unnatural darkness of the never-ending night made it near impossible to make out her surroundings, let alone to find her way through the maze of Insomnia’s ruins.

She fumbled with the clip-on light Noctis had given her back when they had explored the Fodina Caestino quarry. It was meant to turn on automatically when the light was dim, but now that she desperately needed it, it refused to work.

„Will you be coming along, Lady Lunafreya?“

Even though Ardyn had only gone a few steps ahead, Luna could hardly make out his face.

„Yes, it’s just …“

„Try this one, if you will.“ The red glow of his magic illuminated his features for a brief moment as he summoned a flat, round object from his armiger into his palm.

Luna took another, seemingly functional clip-on light from his hand. When she attached it to her jacket, Ardyn shielded his eyes from its cone of light.

„Our dear prince gave it to me, though little did he know that I have no need for it,“ he explained. „Why don’t you allow me to be your eyes for the time being?“

„I’d be much obliged.“

Smirking, Ardyn went ahead into the darkness. For once, there was a semblance of hurry in his steps, and Luna kept her eyes trained on the back of his coat so as not get lost.

Walking through Insomnia’s ruins at daytime had already been disheartening, but the state this world was in was nothing short of terrifying. Despite of the bitter taste of miasma-polluted air in her mouth, Luna tried her best to think not too hard about what had caused it. She could hear the buzzing of the insect-like Ahriman daemons somewhere overhead. The creatures of the night had to be thriving in this environment.

She worried for Noctis’ health, both physical and mental.

#-#-#

Noctis was still running when the burning Cerberus leapt past him. Its massive, clawed paws slammed down in front of the alleyway Noctis had been heading for, blocking his path. Noctis stopped so abruptly that he tripped over some piece of debris in this gods-forsaken darkness. By the time he had scrambled back to his feet, the hellhound stood right before him, growling and spitting flames.

All three of its jaws opened. Deep down in its maws, the fire grew brighter.

Noctis summoned the Engine Blade into his hand and readied himself to warp to safety.

Yet before the Cerberus could release its fiery blast, there was a flash of red in the darkness, a sword spiralled through the air and connected with one of the Cerberus’ heads. Its jaw was knocked shut, and fire burst from the gaps between its teeth as the daemon dropped onto its side.

Between Noctis and the hound, the miasma condensed, and the accursed „King of Darkness“ appeared from it.

Noctis tensed.

„Oh my, what big teeth you have!“ Ardyn said to the hellhound and cast a glance over his shoulder. „All the better to chew your new-found toy with, I suppose.“

Although Noctis could hardly make out more than his silhouette illuminated by the red glow of the Cerberus’ body, he could tell by the sound of his voice that it was accompanied by a sinister smirk.

„Unfortunately, I cannot let you have it. You see,“ Ardyn said and turned around. „This one already belongs to me.“ With the Rakshasa Blade in hand, he walked slowly towards Noctis.

The blood in Noctis’ veins grew hot. His survival instinct was screaming at him to strike first. There was no way he could outrun this particular daemon. „Stay the hell away from me!“ Noctis yelled, pointing the Engine Blade at the Chancellor’s heart.

To his surprise, Ardyn dropped his sword back into his armiger and raised his hands to shoulder level. Noctis’ clip-on light revealed a startled, innocent look on his face. „Is this a way to greet a dear family member?“ Ardyn asked and extended a hand past the blade. „I’m only rushing to your aid, you know?“

The friendly gesture rekindled a spark of hope, and by the gods, Noctis wanted Ardyn to help so bad, to be the Ardyn he could trust, but for all he knew, it could be a trick. Feeling torn, Noctis ground his teeth. „Don’t try to mess with me! I know your stupid games.“

„Pardon me?“

At that instant, an all-too-familiar, female voice broke through the darkness. „Wait up, Ardyn! Where are you?“

The spark of hope ignited a fire. „Luna?“

„Noctis!“

„Over here, Your Highness!“ Ardyn replied, and Lunafreya emerged from the shadows, running towards them with the Trident of the Oracle in hand.

Noctis’ heart took a leap at the sight of her. Luna was here, alive and real! She had come for him. The clutches of fear fell away, and relief overcame him. From his lungs ran a shiver all the way to his arm and the hand that still held the Engine Blade pointed at the former Chancellor.

„You must excuse me for leaving you behind,“ Ardyn said to Luna, nonchalant as ever, and pushed Noctis’ blade with the tip of his finger away from his chest. „The situation called for immediate action, as you have surely noticed by now.“

„You ass!“ Noctis spat at him, though he nearly burst into a fit of relieved laughter at the same time. „You nearly scared me to death!“

„Hm? If so, it was entirely unintentional, I assure you.“

Behind of the former Chancellor, the Cerberus had risen back to its feet. When its heads turned to look at Luna, the fear to lose her again drove Noctis to sprint over to her. „Watch out!“

Unafraid of the daemon, Luna had stopped running and raised the Trident to the black sky. „Messenger of dreams, send me your light!“ A golden glow enveloped the tip of her weapon that quickly intensified until it formed a bright and dense ball of light.

Noctis was still running when he noticed the Cerberus switching its attention back to him. Cursing his carelessness, he phased out of the way of the hellhound’s triple bite and put a bit of distance between them, yet the daemon gave him no second to breathe before it pounced.

Luna swung the Trident once around and cast the ball of magic at the Cerberus. With a hiss the light seared the daemon’s faces, causing it to tumble to the ground behind of Noctis. By the time the Cerberus had struggled back to its feet, black and purple scar tissue had already knitted its skin back together.

Another, smaller ball of light drove the daemon further back, and Luna stepped up to Noctis’ side whilst keeping an eye on the beast. „Now’s your chance, Noct!“ she exclaimed.

A number of red spectral blades rained down on the Cerberus and held it in place. Out of the darkness, Ardyn had silently reappeared next to Luna and Noct. „The stage is set, Your Majesty.“

It was in that very moment that the realisation sunk in. Noctis was not alone anymore. He had the two most magically talented people by his side. What had he ever been afraid of? Noctis could feel his smile stretch into a grin. „Don’t mind if I do!“

Laughing, Noctis threw his sword high above the hellhound. He warped after it, into the blackened sky, only to release the Sacred Arms from his armiger and warp back down, at the middle one of the Cerberus’ heads.

The Sacred Arms zipped ahead, piercing the daemon with devastating force, and Noctis’ warp-strike landed not a split second later. As his blade sunk deep into the hellhound’s middle skull, a cloud of miasma burst from the wound and the creature’s body began to dissolve. Noctis quickly point-warped to safety. Behind him, the dying daemon collapsed into a puddle of half-liquid, half-gaseous darkness.

„I am so glad you are safe!“ Luna exclaimed, running up to him. She threw her arms around him, suddenly and unexpectedly – and let go of him just as quickly again.

Noctis had not minded the hug, not really. His fingers trailed her arms as she drew back.

„You’re not hurt, are you?“ she asked, blushing softly as though she had overstepped a boundary by accident.

In response, he shook his head. „I’m fine now, all thanks to you.“ Noctis eventually cast a glance over to Ardyn standing behind her. „You have literally no idea how glad I am to see you guys.“

„Now, here’s the reaction I had hoped for,“ Ardyn said and looked down the street, into the pitch-black darkness. „As much as I hate to interrupt this sentimental moment, but it appears our little scuffle has garnered the attention of more daemons.“

Noctis was not sure what he had seen, but the screeches of daemons did seem louder than before. „You don’t happen to know a way out of here, do you?“

Luna raised the Trident once more. „Carbuncle, hear my plea!“ she called to the skies, and a moment later, space itself burst open beside them as if it were a thin sheet of glass through which someone had punched a hole. At the same time, the swirling particles of miasma in the air around them had stopped moving, like the world was holding its breath.

„Woah, nice,“ Noctis exclaimed.

Beyond the hole in space lay an otherworldly realm of bright and colourful hues. It looked so strange, so different from anything he had seen before, that he assumed this had to be the Astral realm.

And there, amidst the colours, sat a little, familiar, green-furred fox.

„You’ve got to be kidding me. Carbuncle is here, too?“

Noctis cast a glance back at Luna and Ardyn to make sure he was not leaving them behind in Eos’ waking nightmare before he cautiously stepped through the opening into the other realm. Feeling solid ground beneath his feet but not seeing it was a bit disorienting at first, but he adjusted quickly.

„Does that mean I was dreaming?“ he asked as he took in the wondrous scenery.

„The world you were in was an alternative of our Eos,“ Luna explained, and the hole in space closed itself behind her and Ardyn. „Is is akin to the worlds experienced in a dream, but real to the people within.“

Noctis squatted down in front of the little Messenger. „Hey, old friend. Long time no see, huh?“

Chirping, Carbuncle nuzzled into the palm of his outstretched hand.

„He says he’s happy to see you, too.“

Noctis looked up to find a woman dressed all in white standing nearby. The First Oracle looked just like she had in Ardyn’s memory of the day she had died.

Aera did a curtsey. „Pleased to make your acquaintance.“

The longer Noctis stared into her direction, the more ghosts of the past seemed to fade into existence. Behind of Aera, men and women in black regal garb from all centuries of Eos appeared. It took a moment for Noctis to realise that those were the spirits of his forebears, the Lucii, as they had been in life. They looked different, much more human than the statues of the heavily armoured warriors that had been revered all around Insomnia.

And of course, Somnus was with them, leading the lot.

Chapter Text

„Oho! I see the welcoming committee has gathered.“ Ardyn stepped forward with his arms spread wide. „Come to slay the Adagium, have we?“

Somnus called forth the Blade of the Mystic, though it was likely just the soul of the weapon, seeing how the original was still stored in Noct’s armiger. „Today shall mark the end of our dispute, brother,“ Somnus declared.

A wicked grin spread across Ardyn’s face. In a flash, he too, had summoned his sword. „And here I was, thinking we would never come to an agreement ever again.“

„Not this again,“ Noctis muttered.

Beyond the Lucii, in the far, far distance, he could make out several of the Astrals, and the Bladekeeper Bahamut among them, fighting beneath a bright ball of golden light. Ramuh and Leviathan were suspiciously absent.

„For Eos’ sake, Somnus, let it go!“ Noctis shouted. „Bahamut is about to destroy the friggin’ world! If anything, you should be fighting to stop him, not us!“

„The Bladekeeper’s rage was quelled by the other Astrals once before. I have faith that they will do so again,“ Somnus replied.

„Back then, he did not have the Crystal to draw energy from,“ Aera argued. „Please, both of you: Cease this madness! I cannot bear to watch you fight over and over again.“

Somnus raised his sword high. „Stand with me, Lucii! With the power of the Chosen, we shall strike as one and vanquish this fiend!“

One by one, the Lucii called upon their Royal Arms and their armours slowly materialised around them. Helmets, chest and shoulder plates with oddly draconic features like scales, webbing or horns, formed out of light, seemingly granting the Kings and Queens of Yore a physical form.

Albeit faint at first, Noctis quickly became aware of the magic running through the Ring of the Lucii. The white stone set into the Ring on his hand shone with a soft glow. It was not just draining the Crystal’s magic to perform Somnus’ stunt, it was draining Noct’s magic along with it. He could feel its bite, like needles slowly pushed deeper into his flesh. Anger burned hot in his veins.

„No. No, no, no!“ Noctis ripped the Ring off his finger, breaking the flow of magical energy. The half-formed armours of the Lucii shattered. „No, Somnus! I told you not to drag me into your gods-damn feud.“

„The deed must be done!“ Somnus demanded.

„Let him try!“ Ardyn shouted, his tone of voice unusually harsh. „He shall have the defeat he seeks!“

„No, I’m not going to support you in your stupid quest for revenge, either!“ Noctis told him and received angry looks from both brothers in return. „If you have to do this, do it without me. Better yet, don’t do it at all! One of you is dead, the other is immortal. Fighting isn’t gonna fix this!“

„Is there no peaceful way for you to settle your differences?“ Luna asked.

„A game of chess,“ Aera contemplated aloud. „Back in the day, you used to resolve your disputes with a game of chess. Is that no longer possible?“

Somnus exchanged a thoughtful look with Ardyn. „The winner decides the fate of the loser, then?“

„How about this?“ Ardyn responded. „The loser remains in the Astral realm, never to bother the living again.“

Somnus nodded in agreement.

„You’re not seriously considering a game of chess?“ Noctis asked, hoping he had misheard. „We haven’t got time for this.“

„Don’t worry,“ Ardyn replied. „It shan’t take long.“ He dismissed his sword to summon a chess board and a foldable camping table, the latter of which looked suspiciously like a part of Gladio’s camping equipment. „We will set a time.“

While Ardyn began to arrange the pieces on the board – the white ones for him, the black ones for Somnus – Noctis let out a frustrated sigh, took out his smart phone and opened the alarm app. „Okay, so how long do you want to play?“

„No need to bother. I brought a timer of my own.“ Next to the chess board, Ardyn set down an hourglass.

„You’re so ancient,“ Noctis remarked.

„I believe the word you were looking for was old-school.“

Noctis shook his head. „No, it wasn’t.“

Two camping chairs completed the set-up for the impromptu chess session, and Somnus sat down opposite of Ardyn with his arms crossed. To see the two brothers this close without one’s blade sticking out the back of the other added to Noctis’ unease. As if the sheer number of Lucii watching them, or the fight between the Astrals in the background were not making him anxious already.

When Ardyn and Somnus locked eyes, the hatred and bitterness between them became nearly palpable.

Somnus gestured towards the pieces. „The eldest goes first.“

Ardyn glanced past his opponent as he made his first move. „Are you not nervous, knowing that all of your children are watching? I wonder how many of them know of your crimes.“

„Go ahead, tell them. I stand by my actions, regretful as they were.“ Somnus reached out his hand to move a pawn, but hesitated. „B7 to B6, if you please.“

„Are you sure?“ Smirking, Ardyn set the piece for him.

„Aera, be my witness that he does not cheat.“

Nodding, she stepped up to the chess board to watch them.

„Oh, now you trust her?“ Ardyn asked and moved another one of his pawns.

„Who claims I ever stopped trusting her? G7 to G5.“

„She told you that the gods had chosen me to ascend the throne, did she not? You never were one to disobey the gods, so you must have thought she had been lying to you.“

„I never would have twisted the gods’ words,“ Aera said.

„I know,“ Somnus replied and gestured to another chess piece.

With every argument that passed between them, another move was made. Noctis could tell they were both very experienced players. There was no hesitation in their decisions which piece to set where.

„Although I was tempted to think otherwise for a time, ultimately, I knew you would not betray your calling,“ Somnus continued. „Not even for your betrothed. I came to understand that you had not been shown the entire truth by the Crystal.“

„Is that so? Well then, enlighten us! What was the entire truth, in your opinion?“ Ardyn asked.

„I received a vision from the gods, a warning, of the future beyond your ascension,“ Somnus explained. „The darkness you had gathered would have corrupted the Crystal over time, and eventually, our very Star, pushing mankind to the brink of extinction. The choices before me were few; Either I had to stop the scourge myself, stop your pilgrimages, sacrifice my brother, or the entire world. Our lands had been suffering, and by the gods, you know I’ve tried to stop you. I’ve tried to find another way.“

Ardyn’s expression hardened. „Spare me your arguments. I am not here to forgive you. Not for what you did to the populace, to Aera, or to me.“

„Rook captures pawn on A4.“ On Somnus’ instruction, Ardyn reluctantly executed the move. „As I told you before, I do not ask for your forgiveness, I merely ask for your understanding.“

„If you truly regretted your actions, you could have released me from my prison instead of spreading lies and scratching my name off the pages of history.“ As he spoke, Ardyn captured one of Somnus’ pawns using one of his bishops. There was now an even number of black and white pieces to either side of the board.

Somnus’ brows creased in anger. „Do you think I enjoyed this? Do you think it was easy for me? If there was any shred left of the empathetic man you once were, you would understand what a burden it was, to live with the things I did. I would have undone any of my actions, had it not meant putting the entire Kingdom at risk. Or the very future. The gods’ prophecy could not be denied. My line had to continue for 2000 years, just for you! Just to end your curse!“

„Oh, what selfless deed, to save the monster you created!“ Leaning back in his chair, Ardyn put on a devilish grin. Once more, the black ichor of the scourge ran down his face like tears, giving him that sickly, almost daemonic appearance. „Unfortunately, I will not give up my curse willingly. Darkness is in every fibre of my being.“

Noctis put a hand to his face. No, no it was not. It was just the side Ardyn chose to show whenever he was antagonised. Either Somnus had not understood that yet, or he was bringing it out on purpose. Either way, it did not help their case in the slightest.

The longer they continued, the less Noctis could stand to watch them argue. Seeing the sand run down the hourglass was even worse, only topped by the Astrals’ fight in the background.

„I’m not that familiar with chess. Is one of them winning yet?“ he asked Luna.

She shook her head, though her eyes remained focused on the game. „It’s still too early to tell.“

He ground his teeth. What would a victory achieve, anyway? There was no way for either of them to force the other to actually stay put in the Astral realm – and if there was, they would not be playing chess instead. Noctis threw back his head and let out an annoyed groan.

Just then, when Luna shot him a curious glance, a thought struck him. Two, in fact. One was the realisation that Somnus’ vision must have been granted by Bahamut, just like that dream Noctis had about Luna turning into a daemon. And the other …

„Hey, Luna, do you know that saying about playing chess with a daggerquill?“

„I don’t think so. How does it go?“

„No matter how good you are, you can’t win against a daggerquill at chess. It’ll just knock over the pieces and fly off.“

„So the morale of the saying is that the game is pointless?“ she asked.

Noctis channelled his anger to guide his feet. „I just decided that I’m gonna be that daggerquill.“ With determination, he walked up to the trio from the founding era.

Confused, Aera stepped aside, and Noctis seized the opportunity to slam his hands down on the board to topple all the pieces. The hourglass toppled off the side of the table and shattered.

Still with the scourge streaming down his eyes, Ardyn shot him an irritated look.

„Are you out of your mind?“ Somnus asked, glaring at him. „Didn’t you just say you wanted to stay out of our feud?“

„Shut it, Somnus,“ Noctis replied, as annoyed as he was angry with them. It helped that both brothers were sitting in front of him, so he could tower over them for once. „This time, you listen to me. Both of you; Listen! If you won’t stop this pointless argument, then I will!“ He straightened, took a breath, and when he continued, he just let the words flow freely.

„I am sick and tired of your feud. One of you thinks he can continue it with reason, the other one continues it because he can’t help himself, and you’re both wrong. Both of you did inexcusable things, just one of you did them eons ago, and the other decades ago. And yes, I still think what Somnus did was worse, but bottom line is, both of you had your reasons, and one of them – the biggest one – is that you were set up. Who gave Ardyn his healing powers? Bahamut. Who gave you that vision, Somnus? Bahamut. Who put the Stone and Ring into the hands of my family in the first place? That jerk-face of a dragon! My dad and every one before him sacrificed their lives to fight some ominous threat Bahamut had put there in the first place.“

„The threat is real,“ Somnus tried to argue with him. „The Crystal’s rejection of the Accursed proved it.“

„I was chosen,“ Ardyn argued. „It could have cleansed me just the same.“ Dark and purple fumes rose from Ardyn’s clenched fists.

To break the brothers’ eye contact before things escalated, Noctis reached across the table and grabbed a white and black chess piece each. He tried to get the kings, but in his hurry he might have picked a queen or bishop instead. Not that it mattered much for the point he wanted to make. „Ardyn was used. Just like you were, Somnus. Just like the Oracles, and everyone else who ever got into contact with the Draconian. You have never been the players in this game.“

He set both pieces down in the middle of the board and cleared the space around them with a sweep of his hand. „This! This is all you ever were. Two pieces on a board, and Bahamut was playing you off against each other.“

An uncomfortable silence settled between the brothers. The signs of the scourge faded from Ardyn as he calmed back down, and Noctis chose to adapt a calmer tone of voice as well. „The reason we are here, why Luna, Ardyn and I are here, is that we made it off that board. This cycle of sacrifice and suffering? It has to stop. Now.“

Chuckling to himself, Ardyn stood up from the table. „I see, I taught my nephew even better than I had expected.“

Somnus, too, rose from his spot. „Your nephew? I swear, I will not tolerate your influence on my …“

„If you don’t shut up right now, I will punch you both,“ Noctis announced. Not that he could punch the spirit of a dead person, but by the gods, he would try.

Behind him, Luna chuckled. Her light-hearted laughter relieved the tension in an instant.

Noctis turned around to her. „What is it?“

„Sorry, it’s just … You reminded me of my brother for a moment.“

„Ah, no offence, but … That’s not a compliment to me.“

His gaze was drawn to the battle in the distance. Bahamut had grabbed one of Shiva’s multiple apparitions and a crash resounded through the Astral realm as he slammed her down into the ground, shattering the fragile body of the Glacian into ice with his force.

For a moment, the battle between the Astrals drew the attention of all present, including the spirits of the Lucii.

With a sweeping gesture, Ardyn turned back to Somnus. „Now then, what do you say, brother? Will you join our fight?“

Somewhat reluctantly, the Founder King nodded at Noctis. „For the sake of my family,“ he agreed. „The power of the Lucii shall be yours. Though know that we can assist you only once, and only briefly. Call upon us when the right moment is nigh, and we will strike as one, together.“

„Thank you,“ Noctis replied, not out of politeness, but just because he was glad to have finally gotten through that thick skull of his.

Somnus turned and left, and one by one, the spirits of the Lucii that had formed a living wall between them and the Astrals faded away. Only one of them lingered. It was Regis, looking back at Noctis with a smile and a nod, signalling him how proud he was of his son.

Noctis’ heart ached for a split second when he, too, disappeared.

„Let us hurry,“ Luna suggested.

Leaving the scene of the impromptu chess game behind, Noctis and Luna began to walk towards the Astrals, yet Ardyn stopped look back over his shoulder. Aera and Carbuncle were not following them.

„We will see each other again,“ Aera said, as she too, faded away. „My prayers are with you.“

Chapter Text

Although Noctis, Luna and Ardyn were running towards the battlefield, the Astrals seemed to be getting no closer. Maybe they were much further away than Noctis had originally thought, or perhaps this was just another oddity of space in the Astral realm.

The greatest challenge still awaited him and his friends, this much was certain. Bahamut kept both Ifrit and the remaining apparitions of Shiva at bay using a large number of spectral great swords. Of course, the god who had bestowed the armiger onto the Lucis Caelums had to have an armiger of his own. Behind of the three Astrals interlocked in battle stood Titan, who wore a strained expression, still trying to wrestle down the glowing ball of energy with his massive arms.

Noctis could only assume that this was the energy Bahamut had gathered to fuel his world-ending attack. What had Gentiana called it? Teraflare?

In a flash, Bahamut’s swords shattered and reappeared at his back to form a set of wings. He cleared the space around himself with a sweep of the great sword in his hands and flew up to the ball of light from below.

„Enough!“

The god’s call echoed through the realm like the sound of thunder. He thrust his weapon into the energy and a split second later the orb burst, sending golden swords every which way.

There was no way for Titan to escape them. The Landforger’s body was riddled with blades. His earth-shattering roar, his cry of pain, nearly deafened human ears.

Noctis came to a stumbling halt, and so did Luna and Ardyn behind him.

At the same time, Ifrit threw himself into the way of the blades, seemingly trying to protect one of the Shivas in particular, but the swords ran right through him and his once-beloved ice goddess.

One blade was shooting straight into Noctis’ direction. Thankfully, they had been standing so far away from the centre of the explosion that he could easily step aside to dodge it.

A tremor nearly caused Noctis to lose his balance. In the colourful backdrop of the realm, cracks of varying sizes opened up.

„The Crystal!“ Luna shouted in alarm. „It must be breaking apart!“

Beyond of the largest tear lay a deep, pitch-black darkness. Not the miasma-induced kind of darkness that was home to the daemons, but utter emptiness. The void. Non-existence.

The collapsed bodies of Titan, Shiva and Ifrit crumbled into specks of light, leaving Bahamut the sole victor of their battle. When the Draconian turned to face the Chosen King’s party, space seemed to warp around them until they stood directly before the god of gods.

A spider web of more cracks appeared in the distance. The Crystal was straining under the use of its energy.

With the great sword in hand and his wings of blades fanning out behind him, Bahamut looked down on Noctis from where he hovered in mid-air. While not as large as Leviathan, Titan or Ramuh, he was still of impressive size.

„Foolish mortals.“ Bahamut’s booming voice was devoid of emotion as he addressed them. The metal mask he wore underneath his helmet showed a too-wide smile, but his frighteningly human eyes – the only part of him not covered in armour – were cold and stern. „Thy misguided beliefs of self determination have lit the fires of heresy once more. Thou and thy kind hast rejected the reign of Ifrit and the guidance of Bahamut. Thy existence is proof that it hath been a mistake to grant mankind freedom of will, for man is untrusting, unable to see the facets of fate, and incapable of understanding.“

Bahamut raised his sword to shoulder level, and in response, Noctis, Ardyn and Luna summoned the Engine Blade, Rakshasa Blade and the Trident of the Oracle, respectively.

„Thou art stumbling through the dark, blind and lost,“ the Bladekeeper continued. „Thy short-sighted actions hast shook the very foundations of this Star, and even as it breaks apart, thee deny the help that hast been offered from above. Let it be known that it was thy folly that ended this world. Now come! Face the consequences!“

„No,“ Noctis replied, voice firm but not shouting. „It’s time for you to face the consequences.“ He glanced sideways. „Ardyn.“

„Oh, how long I’ve waited for this …“ A sinister grin took control of Ardyn’s features as he walked forward, chuckling darkly to himself. From one instant to the next, his body burst into miasma and shot towards the Draconian.

Noctis let him have the first strike, but he was not planning on staying behind. He cast a glance back at Luna, who readied herself to channel magic through the Trident, before he point-warped into the air.

Above of him, the cloud of miasma momentarily condensed to allow Ardyn to transition into a warp-strike of his own. Bahamut blocked his attack with the side of his much, much larger greatsword, and spectral swords flashed into existence in front of him – the same ones Ravus had used back at Altissia. Bahamut launched them towards his assailant simultaneously, but Ardyn twisted out of the way by dispersing back into particles.

The boost received through Luna’s prayer made Noctis’ magic burn in his veins. He unleashed the Royal Arms from his armiger, if only because he felt like he would be torn open by their power otherwise. With a flick of his wrist, Noctis sent a couple of Royal Arms flying in an arc at Bahamut.

The Draconian intercepted some of them with his sword, and the ones that got through hardly seemed to cause any impact on his armour. Like an experienced swordsman, Bahamut brought his blade around in a fluid motion to cut Noctis out of the air.

By phasing, Noctis both dodged and crossed a quarter of the battlefield in an instant. Having so much power at his fingertips was almost surreal, but he knew he was going to need every bit of it to make it through this fight.

„Neither of thee hast the strength to fell a god,“ Bahamut said.

Ardyn materialized again in mid-air and kept himself afloat with the power of his armiger. „Don’t make me laugh!“ he shouted back, his voice bitter and resentful as he summoned a number of red spectral swords around him. „What petty words coming from the god who failed to kill his own creation!“

He sent his entire arsenal of both common weapons and Royal Arms at Bahamut, all of which struck the god’s armour, and still failed to make him flinch.

In response, Bahamut swung his blade at Ardyn and cut clean through him, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Noctis ground his teeth. Any mortal would have been cleaved in two by that strike. Then again, any mortal would not have left their defences this wide open.

And speaking of defences … Even with the spirits of the Lucii at his back, their bloodthirsty ring on his finger, Luna and Ardyn by his side, Noctis had failed to pierce Bahamut’s armour thus far.

He dodged one of the god’s spectral blades and zipped around their enemy whilst launching attacks of his own again and again. Only Bahamut’s eyes seemed vulnerable, yet the chances of getting close to his face were about zero.

Noctis drew all the Royal Arms close to his own sword in an attempt to combine their powers in one blade. Meanwhile, Ardyn had gotten back up and provided plenty of distraction, casting a wild mix of dark magic and spectral blades at the god.

When the Engine Blade glowed brightest, and the forms of all the Royal Arms had melded into one huge, indistinct weapon of light, Noctis prepared to warp-strike at Bahamut’s neck.

#-#-#

Luna knew she didn’t stand a chance fighting Bahamut up close. The god himself wielded light magic, and what light magic she could use did not measure up to his. Neither could she make use of the darkness within her like Ardyn could.

So she channelled all the magic she could through the Trident of the Oracle and into Noctis. To aid the King of Light had always been her calling, after all.

Once she had managed to establish a strong and steady flow of magic, Luna found some focus to spare to open her eyes and watch Noctis and Ardyn dance around the god in a whirl of blue and red, light and dark.

There was something else forming in the vast space high above of them. The swords from Bahamut’s back had gathered into a large circle and began to spin. In their midst, a magical symbol appeared that glowed bright with the god’s power.

Luna gasped when she noticed that the magical energy was directed at Noctis.

There was no time to shout a warning.

Just as Noctis prepared to warp-strike at Bahamut, the circle above of him released a blast of light so large and strong that Noctis was swallowed completely by it.

His scream of pain tore Luna’s heart in two. She felt the connection to him break even before the light let up.

Noctis dropped out of the sky, charred and wrapped in smoke.

„No, Noctis! Noct!“ Luna yelled her heart out as she cast the Trident back into the armiger and raced towards him, trying, at the very least, to cushion his fall with her own body to save him from further injury.

She was not fast enough. Noctis’ body hit the invisible ground with a thud. He did not move.

„No, no! Please be alive! You must be alive!“

She fell to her knees next to Noctis. His injuries were grave. Where his skin had been exposed to the light, he had suffered severe burns, while the rest of him seemed to have been cooked alive.

Thankfully, he was showing signs of life. His muscles tensed and trembled. Groans of pain escaped his tightly clenched teeth. His chest rose and fell with every short burst of breath.

„Stay with me, Noct! I can still heal you. I will!“ Though her touch certainly added to the pain he was in, Luna placed a hand on his head and chest each. His pulse was racing beneath her palm, fighting. She let a warm, golden glow spread from her fingers and pushed every bit of her healing magic into him.

Still, the fear for his life clamped its jaws around her heart. It was not that her healing was not working, but whichever way you looked at it; either the injuries were too great or her healing much too slow. For as long as Noctis was unable to move, Bahamut could easily end the both of them with one fell blow, unless …

Luna turned around and her eyes met Ardyn’s who stood but several metres away, frozen in shock.

A look of plain horror was painted on his face.

„Witness the punishment onto those who dareth wield their blessing against their god,“ Bahamut declared and raised his hand. Around him, the swords formed several smaller circles. When the Bladekeeper balled his hand into a fist, the same magical symbol flickered into existence in all of them.

And Ardyn screamed in fury.

It was not like the other time Luna had seen him angry. It was worse. Much worse, if the daemonic echo to his voice was anything to go by. Once more, black ichor dripped down his face, and billows of miasma trailed his movements.

He all but exploded into a dark cloud and rushed headlong at Bahamut.

„No, Ardyn!“

Luna’s shout fell on deaf ears.

One after another, the Draconian fired his beams of light.

At first glance, the stream of miasma seemingly weaved through the beams, dispersing and pulling back together unharmed, yet Luna felt rather than knew, that in his blind rage, Ardyn was simply taking the damage and pressing on.

Bahamut looked rightfully taken aback when the Accursed materialized right in front of his chest.

Black and purple energy had gathered in Ardyn’s raised hand. He jumped at the god and pressed his palm against the Draconian’s blue gleaming chest plate.

„Atone for your sins!“ he yelled in a distorted voice.

There was a dark shockwave, and a crack resounded through the Astral realm, though it was not the Crystal that had given way. A large fissure ran across Bahamut’s chest plate.

The god whirled around and, in the same motion, slapped Ardyn out of the air and send him back to the ground in a splatter of black blood and miasma.

Even so, the reckless attack had left an opening in Bahamut’s armour which glowed a sickly dark purple from within.

Luna was relieved to see Ardyn rise back to his feet, albeit slowly and unsteadily. „Ardyn!“ she cried out to him. „Please protect us! Buy me time to heal Noct!“

Amber eyes focused on her. „Aera?“ he uttered, confused for but a moment. „Pray watch over him while I deal with this menace.“ His red sword reappeared in his hand as he turned towards Bahamut again. „This hypocrite of a god has not tasted the full extent of my hatred yet!“

Luna’s hope waned further. Was he hallucinating? If he was already struggling to keep his mind together, then another reckless attack at Bahamut was going to leave him incapacitated.

Desperation clawed at Luna’s chest when she turned back to Noctis. He was still in too much pain, her magic still in the process of healing his numerous burns. She closed her eyes. „Please, to anyone who can hear my plea,“ she prayed. „I beseech thee, aid us in our time of need!“

#-#-#

„Heads up, guys. We’re about to get company.“

Ravus rose from the couch to walk over to Aranea, who, up until her announcement, had stood with her back to the frame of one of the Citadel’s entrance doors and kept the door open with her foot.

Past her, he could see motes of light gathering into a solid shape in the Citadel’s courtyard. A shape that Ravus had seen once before, when he had been called into the Astral realm and was told that he could be the new King of Light.

„The final battle is upon us,“ Ravus said and brushed past Aranea, whilst calling his sabre into his hand. „We shall claim victory or die trying.“ He did not need to assure himself that his misfit group of soldiers was following him. Because even if they did not, he knew what he was going to fight and give his life for.

Gladio must have had a similar thought on his mind. „For Noct,“ he said.

Ravus briefly turned around to him. „For Lunafreya,“ he declared instead.

„And for the future of this world,“ Ignis added.

„I can get behind that,“ Aranea remarked casually.

„Uh, doesn’t anyone wanna help Ardyn out?“ Prompto asked timidly.

Valyria shrugged. „Sorry, Prom. No love lost for phonies.“

The six of them reached the foot of the stairs just as the light dimmed to reveal no one less than the Bladekeeper Bahamut, god of iron and war.

With one beat of the wing-like blades at his back, he turned around to them, revealing a dark crack in the chest plate of his armour. The Draconian’s voice boomed across the courtyard. „So thou are the heretics of the King.“

Ravus stepped forward, unafraid. „Nay, we are no heretics! We are slayers of false gods!“

„Miserable creatures. Thy lives are forfeit all the same.“ The blades on his back circled once around the god before they began raining down on Ravus and his allies.

He narrowly dodged the giant sword that drove deep into the ground where he had been standing but a second before. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aranea launching herself into the air to jump off a blade and gain height.

At the same time, Prompto barely stumbled out of the way of the swords while Gladio and Valyria ran ahead, trying to close the distance.

Ravus released a blast of lightning at the Draconian just as a large projectile passed over his head. It exploded against Bahamut’s armour and while it caused no visible damage, the god staggered for a moment.

To Ravus’ surprise, Prompto had landed the first hit. The young gunner grinned at the god and patted the side of the rocket launcher on his shoulder. „How d’you like my present from Niflheim, jerk-face?“

He got his answer in the form of another storm of blades from above. Thankfully, Ignis pulled him out of the way in the nick of time. In the meantime, the god had summoned an even larger great sword into his hand. Though Gladio managed to defend himself with an impressively large katana, he was knocked off his feet by a simple sweep of the god’s weapon. Valyria immediately closed the opening in their line of offence before Bahamut could strike again and cast roaring flames at the god.

By using the blasts from her spear and Bahamut’s flying swords to jump off, Aranea launched an attack from the air. She drove the tip of her spear straight towards the crack in the Bladekeeper’s chest plate.

In a fluent motion, Bahamut brought his sword around to strike at her.

„Shit!“ Aranea was forced to use the repulsion of her spear and back away again.

The blades that had struck the courtyard burst into crystals and disappeared only to reappear at Bahamut’s back a split-second later. With a twist, the Draconian gained altitude and knocked Valyria back with the tip of his armoured tail.

„We can’t reach him this high up!“ Ignis shouted over to Ravus.

„Prompto, Aranea! Get him down!“ Ravus ordered.

„On it!“ The gunner launched another two rockets at the god.

With two quick swipes of his great sword, Bahamut sliced the projectiles in two. They exploded harmlessly around him and, at the same time, prevented Aranea from closing in on him.

„What’re you doing?“ Ravus shouted as she dropped back down to the ground.

„Do you wanna try pulling off those air manoeuvres?“ she yelled back.

Bahamut raised his sword high and his wings split into separate blades again to circle around him menacingly.

„Brace yourselves!“ Ignis shouted.

Maybe he was the only one who could feel it, but Ravus became abruptly aware of the static electricity in the air. Powerful magic other than that of the Bladekeeper had gathered around the battlefield. A crackle announced the return of the Stormsender Ramuh.

This time, there was barely any indication where lightning would strike before a massive bolt was cast down from the skies. Even so, Bahamut dodged the Fulgurian’s attack with impossible ease.

„Ramuh’s back!“ Prompto yelled with relief.

Ravus was not so hopeful. Bahamut had proven himself mightier than the other Astrals in the Great War before.

During his descent from the heavens, Ramuh kept casting bolts of lightning at Bahamut, who let the smaller ones pelt his armour and avoided the larger ones in-flight. He broke through the Fulgurian’s offensive quickly. Sword and staff clashed high up in the skies.

„Curses!“ Ravus ground his teeth in frustration. They could not leave this battle to Ramuh alone.

#-#-#

The answer to Luna’s desperate prayer arrived in the form of a vision. She found herself watching the physical world through the eyes of the Fulgurian. Ramuh was defending himself against Bahamut’s strikes with his staff and arcs of lightning. On the ground below, she could make out a speck of white surrounded by several darker ones: her brother and Noctis’ friends.

The message was hers to interpret: Bahamut must have split his self between the realms in response to the damage Ardyn had dealt to him, and Ramuh, ever the wise and patient, had awaited the Draconian there. Which also meant that he could not come to Luna’s aid. However, that vision reminded her of something far more important: The two gods she had been missing earlier had not simply disappeared.

„Leviathan!“ Luna shouted into the void of the Astral realm. „Heed our covenant and answer my call! The Chosen King needs you!“

Her concentration was disrupted when she heard Ardyn crashing back down on the ground again. This time, as he rose to his feet, Bahamut had already sent smaller spectral blades to stop him dead in his tracks.

The swords did not simply pierce Ardyn’s chest. They materialized in a circle around him and kept him suspended in the air as though his wrists and ankles had become tied to the sword hilts. He struggled against those invisible bonds. „Do not think your swords can hold me! I shall tear you limb from limb! You will suffer!“

His threats did not impress the god. Already, Bahamut turned his cold-eyed stare towards Luna and Noctis.

Luna met his look with defiance. „Goddess of the seas! Prove that you are worthy of men’s worship!“

Before Bahamut could move towards either of them, another tremor ran through the Crystal and a deafening roar echoed threatened to split the Astral realm. From a swirl of what looked like liquid golden light, the great sea serpent began to materialize. Her body had not even fully formed yet when Leviathan flew at the Draconian with her jaws wide open as if to bite off his head.

Condensed streams of water shot ahead, piercing Bahamut’s defences and nicking his heavy armour in a few places. The Bladekeeper brought up his sword to cut into her maw but Leviathan was faster than him. The sea goddess bit down on his arm and the broad side of his blade.

#-#-#

Meanwhile, in the mortal realm, Ramuh and Bahamut danced a deadly waltz of blades and lightning.

It was just as Ravus had feared: Although the Fulgurian’s bolts charred Bahamut’s armour in places, the Draconian kept the other Astral firmly on the defensive.

Ravus had hoped to turn the battle to their favour with the number of his allies, but there was no way for them to join Ramuh’s fight. Even when Bahamut touched down on the courtyard, running into that raging storm of blades and lightning between the gods would be nothing short of suicide.

The Stormsender rose high up into the sky in another attempt to gain distance from the god of war, yet Bahamut dodged elegantly through the lightning storm once more. His wings split and the blades zipped past Ramuh, distracting him for but a moment. A moment long enough for Bahamut to run the fellow Astral through with his great sword.

Both Astrals dropped out of the sky. In his death struggle, Ramuh released all the electricity from his body, but Bahamut did not back away. As bolts ran though the Draconian, smoke began to rise from beneath his armour.

A bright explosion lit up the Citadel’s walls when the two Astrals crashed down into the courtyard. Ramuh’s body shattered into particles of light, which left Bahamut kneeling on the ground with his his great sword plunged deep into the ground and his head lowered.

Ravus recognized their chance to strike straight at the crack in Bahamut’s chest plate. „Now or never!“ Ravus dashed forward, and the rest of his allies followed close on his heels.

They had to be fast. There was no telling when or if they would be able to get close to Bahamut this easily again.

Ravus was still running with his sword held high and poised to strike when the god raised his head. They were all caught in Bahamut’s stare.

From one instant to the next, time slowed down, coming almost to a complete stand-still. Yet while Ravus’ motions became leaden, his mind continued to operate at a normal pace. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blades from Bahamut’s back flashing back into spectral form right next to him and his allies. A feeling of dread took hold of him. They had all become trapped between the teeth of a gigantic disk saw.

Time resumed its flow as suddenly as it had stopped and the god’s great blades immediately began to move. Not a second remained for Ravus or anyone else to escape them.

A spectral blade ran through his midsection and while it did not cut him in a physical sense, it cut in every other. Red hot pain burst from where he would have been sliced in two by every other weapon. Ravus collapsed to the ground as if his spine had been severed just the same. His legs would not move. He could not even feel his limbs beyond the pain any longer.

Groans and cries reached his ears from behind. Gritting his teeth, Ravus managed to twist his head around far enough to see that his entire party had been struck down along with him. Prompto and Ignis seemed to have dropped dead instantly, while the rest of them struggled and failed to stay upright, one by one.

First Aranea, then Valyria. The Prince’s Shield went down last.

Ravus’ life force was fading quickly. Darkness closed in on him on all sides, and while the numbness took over, all he could think of in his final moments of consciousness was that he had failed his sister.

Chapter Text

From the instant the Hydrean had appeared, Luna had redirected her entire concentration back at healing Noctis, and with another Astral suddenly present and fighting for them, it seemed as though the Astral’s excess magic was drawn into her spell. The golden glow from her palms intensified until it covered Noctis completely.

She could feel the healing at work, faster and more thorough than ever before. Underneath her fingertips, Noctis’ heartbeat and breathing returned to a normal rhythm.

The steady flow of magic broke away at the same time the glow sunk into Noctis’ skin and vanished. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her beloved was whole again.

Noctis snapped his eyes open. Gasping for air, he jolted up into a sitting position. Although a little disoriented at first, his look quickly found Luna’s face when she placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

„I thought I was a goner,“ he said.

„I’m terribly sorry to tell you, but the fight is not yet won.“ She turned to look at the Hydrean and Draconian locked in battle, and Noctis followed her gaze.

Leviathan still had her jaws clamped shut around Bahamut’s arm and tried to wrap her serpentine body around the other god.

In a flash of light, the Bladekeeper summoned a sword into his free hand. Leviathan let go before he could sever her head from her body. She sought the distance only to charge at Bahamut again.

Translucent blades were flung her way, punching holes into her fins. Still, Leviathan barrelled into the Draconian full-force. She tackled him to the ground. The Astral realm shook.

With a shattering sound, the swords that had kept Ardyn shackled disappeared. He dropped down onto his hands and knees, looking exhausted. All the daemonic energy and anger that had surrounded him earlier had subsided. He picked himself up to walk with stumbling steps over to his allies, while Luna offered Noctis a hand to help him rise to his feet. It might have been just her imagination, but it seemed a brief look of relief crossed Ardyn’s face upon seeing Noctis restored to full health.

In the meantime, Bahamut had thrown Leviathan off of him. He turned towards Luna and the two men, before a wall of water rose from the ground and hid them from the god’s view.

Leviathan had trapped them in the centre of a waterspout, seemingly to grant them more time to recover while she dealt with the Bladekeeper.

„There’s a crack in his armour,“ Noctis stated, eyes fixed on the shadows of the two Astrals beyond the liquid wall.

„It’ll be of no use.“ Ardyn intercepted any plan in the making. „The Bladekeeper has shot you down before because he recognized you as the greater threat, and he won’t allow you anywhere near him again now that he’s vulnerable.“

„I just gotta be faster than him,“ Noctis claimed with determination shining in his eyes.

Ardyn ground his teeth. „Don’t be a fool. You can neither outpace a god, nor suffer the damage.“

„Yeah, you got a better idea? I’d ask Gladio to tank for me, or Iggy to draw the fire, but that kinda teamwork isn’t much of an option right now, is it?“

As Luna stood there and watched the two of them argue as equals, a thought came to her. „I believe it might be possible for us to trick the Draconian,“ she said. „It would take a bit of Ardyn’s magic, a lot of my own, and a Royal Arm both of you can wield.“

Ardyn raised an eyebrow at her, and Noctis gave her an equally surprised look. „How very unlikely of you to suggest such devious methods,“ Ardyn remarked with a smirk.

„We cannot afford to lose now, can we?“ she replied. „Not after we’ve come so far.“

#-#-#

In the mortal realm, the party of six lay defeated at Bahamut’s feet. Whoever had not fallen to his blades instantly, and still twitched and struggled against death’s embrace, was about to be ended by another summoning of Bahamut’s blades.

The Draconian raised his hand high, ready to let them rain onto these unruly creatures when an orange flicker caught his attention.

Among the dying humans lay a sword, in the handle of which a glowing orb was embedded. A sense of familiarity, as well as foreboding struck the god upon the sight of it.

The red-haired human woman was still trying to reach for it with a trembling, weak hand. Her finger brushed the embedded jewel as an ancient phrase escaped her lips, and magic, raw and old, burst from the orb.

It shattered, sending waves of fire across the entire courtyard. Colourful flames clung to the bodies of the fallen without harming them. Soft downs shimmered in the air.

„Treacherous Messenger of the Pyreburner,“ Bahamut greeted an age-old enemy he thought to have put to rest eons upon eons ago.

From the fire, a giant bird was reborn. Phoenix spread her colourful wings above the nearly deceased as her magic poured into them like the essence of life itself.

With a screech, she twisted in the air and rushed at Bahamut, who retaliated using the blades he had summoned before. His swords disappeared into the High Messenger, seemingly causing no harm.

In the nick of time, he managed to swing his great sword at her. His blade slid right through Phoenix, as though he had cut through thin air.

She burst into motes of light and a wave of intense heat washed over Bahamut. In the end, what he had seen had been but the remains of the High Messenger’s soul.

„So that is how thou wouldst spend the last of thy embers,“ Bahamut remarked. „Thy blessing hast been wasted on those feeble-hearted heretics.“

„No, it hasn’t!“

The shout drew his attention. On the courtyard, the red-haired woman struggled back to her feet, and so did the rest of her allies.

#-#-#

In the Astral realm, Bahamut was willing to admit that he had underestimated the feral strength of Leviathan. In the Great War during the Solheim era, the sea goddess had fought by his side at first and withdrawn from the conflict later, since they shared similar opinions on mankind.

Bahamut had never expected this covenant to be used against him.

It took him a considerable effort to pin the great sea serpent down. Even as her fins had been torn to shreds, she kept snapping and whipping her tail at him. Bahamut took what little damage she dealt to him and grabbed her by her throat.

With s swift strike, his great sword severed her head from her body. Finally, Leviathan, too, crumbled into light. Yet all those fights with his Astral brethren and sisters had begun to wear him out.

He turned to the wall of water the Hydrean had erected earlier to protect the apostate receivers of his blessing. As expected, the swirl collapsed in on itself.

Unexpectedly, however, the King and the Adagium sprang from the water and flew at him using the magical force of their armoury.

Both of them had switched to wield a Royal Arm – the Sword of the Father – and both of them were shrouded in a powerful aura of light, provided by the Oracle.

The last of the water fell away to reveal her standing there and channeling magic through the Trident.

To think that she had found a way to empower the Adagium without hurting him … They were clearly trying to catch him off-guard with a combined attack. Yet Bahamut had sworn himself not let this happen again. The darkness had eaten its way through his defences and was further gnawing at him from within. If the King struck now, with the force of the Lucii behind him, he might truly vanquish Bahamut from the realm of the Astrals.

As foreseen, the Adagium and the King timed their attacks to strike together. One from the left, one from the right.

Bahamut feigned to swing his sword at the Adagium only to turn and bring his free hand down upon the King. He slammed him into the ground, intending to squash his pitifully weak body so that there would be nothing left for the Oracle to heal.

Contrary to his expectation, however, the body of the King exploded into a dark cloud the instant Bahamut crushed him.

A fatal miscalculation.

The miasmatic particles in place of the King’s blood and flesh reassembled to reveal the Adagium, lying defeated on the ground. Yet there was a wicked grin of triumph on his face.

When Bahamut looked up, the King was hovering above him in place of the Adagium, with an enormous blade of light in his hands and poised to strike.

#-#-#

Ravus awoke with a start to the sight of the long-lost divine Messenger Phoenix attacking the Draconian and disappearing. He scrambled back to his feet, faster than his mind could even process what was going on.

Not that it mattered. Bahamut stood before him, weakened. Victory was back within reach – if only he did not repeat the same mistake as before.

He heard Valyria shout at the Draconian in stubborn defiance and signalled to his comrades behind him to scatter. They were close enough to Bahamut to surround him within seconds. This time, the Bladekeeper would not fell all of them at once.

Ravus dashed forward, ready to give his life if only one of them succeeded.

Aranea was the first to strike, swinging her spear at the Bladekeeper’s head from the air. He swatted her away like an annoying fly, but was hit in the face by a missile from Prompto’s rocket launcher. Bahamut staggered again.

Ignis hurled a flask filled with ice magic at the Draconian from behind, slowing his movements for a second, long enough so that Gladio could close in on him and strike at the hole in the Astral’s armour.

Bahamut narrowly avoided a direct hit at his insides. Even so, the crack opened a little further. He raised his great sword to swing it once around – and paused.

While all else had been going on, Ravus had slipped past the explosion, taken the ice-cold blast that had grazed his head and dodged around Gladio’s Tempest strike to jump straight at the god’s weak point with his trusted sabre raised and lightning dancing along its blade.

#-#-#

In what seemed like a last-ditch effort to hold him off, Bahamut summoned and cast one of his magical blades at Noctis.

He twisted out of its way at the same as the plunged from the sky and brought Regis’ sword, with all the Royal Arms fused into it, down on Bahamut’s outstretched arm.

Noctis screamed with the effort, putting all his strength into the blow. Though there was some resistance, ultimately, his blade cleaved through armour and whatever lay beneath, separating the Draconian’s arm from his body.

The Astral staggered back.

The Ring on Noctis’ finger pulsed with red-hot energy.

He held up his hand. „Come to me, Lucii!“

Immediately, all the Royal Arms split from the Sword of the Father. They hovered around Noctis for but a split-second before each weapon flew into the hand of its rightful owner. The Lucii, each of them looking like they had when alive, flashed into existence to either side of Noctis.

His entire body screamed in pain once more. Noctis thought he felt his skin crack with the sheer amount of magic that was racing through him. His eyes burned in their sockets, purple flames lapping at his vision.

Another crack opened up in the Crystal as Noctis dove at the hole in Bahamut’s armour, and all of the Lucii with him.

„You can do it, Noct!“ Luna cheered him on.

Somewhere in the background, Ardyn laughed with mad glee.

#-#-#

„This is for the past, present and future of my family and our Star!“

Unknown to each other, – it was the same shout that tore from their throats, the same intent, the same target of their blades, – and both met their mark without fail.

Whereas Ravus’ pierced the wound and a bolt of lightning burst out the other side of the god’s torso, Noctis and his ancestors all but tore the Astral to pieces. The Royal Arms all entered through the crack in Bahamut’s armour and exited his body every which way, leaving the god him riddled with numerous holes and cracks that glowed sickly purple.

Both strikes had been necessary, and both strikes led to the Draconian collapsing to the ground, his body splintering and shattering into what looked like soul crystals.

While one party started at their victory in awe and disbelief before breaking out into a chorus of cheers, the other waited for their king to float back down to them.

#-#-#

Noctis had never felt so exhausted and yet so accomplished in his entire life. The moment his feet touched the invisible ground, he nearly lost his balance, and he might have fallen, had Luna not been there and pulled him into a tight hug.

„Noctis, we did it. We truly did it.“ she said to him. her voice, so close to his ear, was barely above a whisper and yet full of happiness and relief.

Noctis hugged her back with what little strength he could muster, basking in the simple fact that they were alive and that jerk-face of a god was no more.

When Luna pulled back from him, he thought he lost himself in her gentle smile and pale, sky-blue eyes. He brought up a hand to brush a few loose strands of hair out of her face and paused.

The Ring of the Lucii.

It was crumbling and flaking away, dispersing into nothingness. The tether that had bound the spirits of his ancestors for two thousand years was gone. Along with it, the phantom pain the surplus of magic had left in his veins vanished from his body.

He looked around. The Lucii had disappeared the instant the final blow had been dealt, and the only other person with them was Ardyn, who was still kneeling on the ground where Bahamut had attempted to crush him and staring at the empty space where the Astral had fallen.

It took a couple of seconds before he got back up and decided to walk over to Luna and Noctis. Though he, too, was moving unsteadily from exhaustion and clutching the fabric of his shirt above his heart, there was an unmistakable softness to his look, like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

His weary eyes rested on Noctis as he approached them. „Never would I have dreamed that our final confrontation would play out like this,“ he said, „but allow me to offer you my deepest and sincerest gratitude.“ He bowed before him.

Noctis barked out a laugh. „Don’t be like that! You know full well I couldn’t have done it without either of you. ’Sides, you can just admit you’re proud of me.“

In response, Ardyn scoffed and turned his head away, smiling. Without his hat, however, there was no hiding the gleam in the corners of his eyes.

Luna chuckled softly. „Both of you have done well. I am glad to have made this journey with you.“

All of them could have stayed and enjoyed their victory for another couple of minutes, probably, but another tremor that shook the Crystal turned everyone’s attention abruptly back to the state the Astral realm was in.

„Do any of you have a plan how to get out of here?“ Noctis asked. „’Cuz, y’know, beating Bahamut is great and all, but I thought we wanted to survive this.“

„I never considered the possibility of the Crystal breaking apart, I’m afraid,“ Luna said, looking sorry to announce that the three of them might be stuck in a dying realm.

Noctis glanced over to Ardyn, who pointedly avoided the eye contact and remained sombrely silent. All of a sudden, Noctis remembered Somnus’ words. Ardyn had never truly planned past Bahamut’s defeat, and, in fact, the gratitude he had offered Noctis earlier had almost sounded like a farewell.

„Fret not, Lady Lunafreya.“

Luna turned to the woman in black and white that approached them. „Gentiana.“

Noctis was surprised to see Shiva in her disguise as the High Messenger. Perhaps this was all the strength she could still muster following her defeat at the hands of Bahamut earlier.

„As the breaking of the Crystal draws nigh, the Frostbearer extends one last gift to the ones chosen by the Bladekeeper so that they may return to the realm of their birth.“ Gentiana offered a gentle hand to Noctis and Luna.

„But what will happen to you?“ Luna asked.

A delicate smile played about the High Messenger’s lips. She cracked her eyes open. „When the bridge between worlds is no more, neither Astral nor Messenger will return to this Star. It is the memory of them that lives on, in the land, the sea and the sky they created, in the hearts of men, and through the blood of those they had chosen as their champions.“

„The bloodlines of the King and Oracle,“ Luna concluded and gasped quietly. „Then this is our final good-bye, is it not? I … Thank you, Gentiana, for all you have done for me and taught me. I shall pass along the tale of your good deeds for as long as I can.“

She reached out to take the High Messenger’s hand when another voice spoke up.

„Not so fast.“

Its tone made Noctis want to smack his hand against his own forehead so hard it hurt. With a sigh, he turned around.

Somnus and Aera walked up to them from behind.

The Founder King held out a hand towards his brother, and Ardyn’s face twisted into a grimace in repulsion. „Stay with us, Ardyn,“ Somnus said. „If you leave with them, you’ll have to live with your curse for all eternity. But if you stay here, you may pass on to the afterlife. No physical being can survive the breaking of the Crystal. This is your last chance at a true and honest death.“

„Oh, what generous offer coming from you, brother! Please, do find a new demand to ask of me. You are starting to remind me of a broken record. Not that you’d know a thing about modern-day technology, of course.“ Despite of his initially mocking tone and reply, Ardyn’s look soon passed from Somnus to Aera and the disdain faded from his expression.

Somnus’ voice turned a little softer. „I offer only what you have sought for yourself. You may find eternal peace at last.“

Aera chuckled quietly and stepped up to the Founder King’s side. „Then again,“ she said to Ardyn, „peace comes in many forms, and I would not be surprised had you found a reason to live. After all, a world without Astrals needs all the guidance it can get.“

While Somnus ground his teeth at figuratively having been stabbed in the back, Ardyn’s lips parted in surprise. „You would not want me to be with you?“

„Of course I want you to be with me, silly,“ Aera explained with a cheerful smile. „But what is another century or so to a woman who has waited two thousands years? I have faith that my wayward traveller will return home eventually, as he always has.“

„If you are still half as polite as you used to be, you won’t let your betrothed wait another year,“ Somnus argued and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

While they were talking like time was of no concern, Noctis noticed the dark rifts in the background of the Astral realm growing steadily wider. He cast a glance at Gentiana, then at Luna, and in silent agreement, they grabbed the High Messenger’s hands. Both of them held out their free hand to Ardyn.

„Your choice,“ was all that Noctis said to him.

He had never seen Ardyn look so torn.

Noctis knew his will to live was not exactly strong, and he was willing to admit that maybe, just maybe, he might miss Ardyn if he chose to stay and die now, but he had sworn to himself that Ardyn’s future was his to decide and his only, and thus, he was not going to add to the arguments Somnus and Aera had provided.

Freedom of choice was part of this new-found independence from the gods, after all.

#-#-#

When Noctis came to, he felt more groggy than ever before. His limbs were heavy with exhaustion, his mind still foggy from when he had passed out during the breaking of the Crystal and their trip back by the Glacian’s power.

He was lying on a cold, smooth floor, and small pieces of rock – no, crystal – were scattered on top of him and all around. Not a trace of the geode’s great magic could still be felt in the air.

Above of Noctis, the high ceiling of the Lucian throne room slowly faded into view.

Rays of the morning sunlight fell in through the hole in the wall where the council members’ chairs used to be. They tickled his skin and seeped through his clothes. The sun’s gentle warmth greatly discouraged him from moving a muscle, as did his overall exhaustion.

Noctis let out a tired sigh of relief.

It was good to be alive. It was good to be back home.

He hardly had to move his hand to take hers into his. There was no need to turn his head. He knew Luna was there, beside him, all hale and hearty, though probably still a little dazed from jumping through realms just like he was.

She gave his hand a little squeeze as if to reassure him she was well.

Noctis drew a breath and spoke. „How’s the sunlight, Ardyn?“

A long, drawn-out sigh sounded from another spot on the floor not too far away. „It’s the same old sting as always,“ Ardyn replied.

Noctis figured they were all too exhausted to move, and for a few minutes, they just lay there in silence. His mind was heavy, and the thoughts that passed by fleeting. Nothing seemed of great importance after what they had just achieved.

„If I’m gonna install a sound system in the lifts, what kind of music should we play?“

„I believe radio would be best,“ Luna replied. „The stations know what the people like and they share important news.“

„Radio? Gotta agree on the importance of news, but …“ Noctis groaned. „I can’t stand pop music. I was thinking of something grander. Symphonic Metal maybe.“

„The only kind of music befitting for a place as grand and historic as the Citadel is the classical and orchestral kind,“ Ardyn argued.

„Symphonic Metal often uses an orchestra.“

„I still think you should take people’s preferences into consideration if you want them to come visit the Citadel,“ Luna added.

„Let’s just ask Coctura about the music they play at the Mother of Pearl,“ Noctis suggested with a weary sigh.

A hum of agreement filled the throne room.

Before silence could settle in once more, Noctis heard a door being thrown open and the hasty footsteps of a number of people rushing near.

At last, he found the strength within him to turn his head.

His retainers came rushing up the stairs to the platform where Noctis, Luna and Ardyn were lying. They all looked like they’d been thoroughly roughed up, but, as far as Noctis could see, had suffered no life-threatening injuries. Aranea was with them as well, and Ravus had led the misfit party to the throne room. Most of them were out of breath, as though they had taken the twenty-something levels of stairs up the building.

„Lunafreya!“ Ravus cried out, all but trampling Noctis as he rushed past to help his sister up from the floor. „Why did you bring him back with you?“ Judging by the hissing tone of his voice, Ravus had noticed Ardyn.

„I’m delighted to see you as well,“ Ardyn quipped tiredly.

„Noct! Hey, Noct! We did it! We beat that dragon!“ Prompto cheered, waving the Chancellor’s hat around.

Ignis leaned over Noctis and offered a hand to help him to his feet. „Welcome back, Noct.“

Noctis smiled weakly at his friends. „Glad to be back.“

Chapter Text

„A new day is born from light and dark in equal measure,“
Lady Lunafreya once said, and her words rung true.

The red glow on the horizon that heralded the brink of dawn slowly gave way to the first rays of the morning sun. Its light stretched onto the metropolis, reflected off the glass walls of the skyscrapers in the business district and spilled into the streets between them. It chased out the shadows of night, flooded the expensive and stylish towers in the upper class districts with its glow, and found its way to the mismatched buildings of the middle-class district.

There, it eventually reached an impasse, in the form of a light-proof curtain behind the window of an unassuming penthouse apartment.

In the bedroom beyond, a man stirred from his sleep. He reached out a hand to feel for the pocket watch on his night stand and held it up to his eyes. The delicate clock hands pointed to a quarter to eleven in the morning. Although it was still pitch-dark in his bedroom, he could make out the time just fine.

According to the watch, it was getting close to midday, which meant he better got out of bed or he was going to be exceedingly late for the Royal picnic.

With a bit of effort, he sat up and pushed himself to the edge of the mattress. Despite the sluggishness in his bones, he had actually slept quite soundly. There was no helping his irregular sleep cycles, but the nightmares had released him from their clutches years ago and his dreams, while rare, had been nothing but pleasant since.

He rubbed a bit of feeling back into his face, slid into his plushy Black Chocobo slippers and finally got up. Whilst shuffling out the bedroom door into the rest of his apartment, he pulled a black dressing gown over his wine-red silk pyjamas.

First task of the day: coffee.

He flipped the light switch in the living room-slash-dining room-slash-kitchen and colours returned to his vision.

His apartment was the same as always. Lots of dark wood, with accents in black and red. Spacious, somewhat dusty, and notably tidy, if only because he hardly ever stayed a night at his own home. He always had and still travelled a lot, but the many souvenirs he collected usually ended up forgotten between all the other things he stashed away out of habit and thus never made it to his shelves.

Truth be told, he did not need to have such a well-furnished apartment, but he enjoyed having it. The old leather couch, the upright piano, the furniture with elaborate ornaments that either was a century old or at least looked like it. One just had to appreciate the craftsmanship.

On his way over to the coffee machine, he turned on the ancient-looking radio on the side board.

„… in all of Lucis. We’re here at Insomnia to bring you the latest news, traffic and weather 24/7, every day of the week.“ A jingle played.

„The Citadel court just released a press statement, claiming that the work on the Lucis Caelum memorial park will conclude early next year, marking the end of Insomnia’s twelve years long period of reconstruction. Ignis Scientia, consultant to his Majesty King Noctis Lucis Caelum, explained that the park will feature depictions of the Lucian rulers as they were in life, not in legend. The park will also feature two new additions to the rulers of Yore; a statue of King Regis Lucis Caelum, 113th of his line and father to his Majesty Noctis Lucis Caelum, and a relief of the Founder King’s brother, Arden Lucis Caelum. Fans of the royal family are especially looking forward to find out what the latter looked like, seeing how information on this long-lost family member was first unveiled ten years ago.“

Once he had refilled water and coffee beans, Ardyn pushed the button on the machine, humming to himself. He was not going to see the finished memorials, he mused. That age-old urge to destroy everything in relation to Somnus was still there, even if much toned down these days, and he had not been entirely convinced by the idea to add an image of his former self to the exhibition, either. It had been Noctis who had insisted that the addition was only logical, seeing how he had restored Ardyn’s reputation a decade ago. At the very least, they had agreed to remove most links to his modern day persona. Someone figuring out that Ardyn had been alive for more than two thousand years would only result in a lot of unwanted attention.

„In Grealea, representatives of Accordo, Succarpe, Eusciello and Tenebrae have gathered to celebrate the 2nd anniversary of the coronation of Empress Solara Aldercapt Antiquum. In her speech, she promised not to rest until even the last internal dispute has been settled and peace firmly secured. When asked for a statement, King Ravus Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae remarked that Empress Solara has put a lot of effort into straightening out the Imperial government system, but that Niflheim still has a long way to go before its structures have been decentralized. Removing the last traces of corruption and restoring trust in the government will take time, but Tenebrae, as much as any other of the former Niflheim territories, has vowed to look past the misdeeds of the Empire and stand with Empress Solara in her noble endeavour.“

It was yesterday’s news, technically, but Ardyn could not help but chuckle to himself. Ravus must have felt a bit under pressure when he had spotted Ardyn standing in the back of the crowd. Even after all this time, Lunafreya’s brother was still the easiest of the world’s leaders to keep in line, though the granddaughter of Iedolas Aldercapt was a close second due to her young age and inexperience.

„The institute of medical research at Insomnia is pleased to report that the number of new Starscourge infections has reached a new all-time low. However, citizens are still advised to take caution around dark alleyways at night and report any sightings of daemons to the nearest city guard.

As for the weather, we’re expecting clear skies today with temperatures rising up to 26 degrees.“

By the time Ardyn was done adding sugar and creamer to his coffee, it had turned into something of a coffee-flavoured caramel drink. He stood by the kitchen counter, sipping from a „World’s Best Scientist“ mug he had swiped from Verstael’s desk two decades ago, and summoned a small glass vial from his armiger into his free hand. The clear liquid inside looked inconspicuous and harmless, yet in a way, it was anything but.

Sighing, he finished his coffee, set down the mug, then downed the medicine in one go. It felt like liquid sunlight running down his throat, stinging, piercing and disintegrating the very make-up of his body on its way. Swallowing nails and razor blades would be more pleasant, he imagined. He pressed one hand to his chest, and raised the back of the other to his face as a painful cough forced its way out.

Ardyn did not take his medication as often or as regularly as he should. His attempts were earnest – they truly were – but hampered by his inability to submit himself to a daily routine. Just like the rest of mankind, Ardyn was in for the long and slow battle against the scourge. Except that he was no common infected. The fact that researchers had found a way to cure the scourge was a feat in and of itself, but trying to turn a daemon back into a human was nothing short of impossible.

The medicine was not all bad, though. It made him less sensitive to sunlight, and on this particular day, he was very much looking forward to spending the whole day out at Cape Caem’s sunny coast.

„Now, then. There’s no time like the present, as they say.“

Ardyn got dressed in his usual ensemble, complete with his heavy coat, locked the apartment door behind himself and made his way out of the apartment building to where he had parked his convertible by the side of the road.

It was not the same red convertible he used to own back when he had travelled with his nephew. The original had had the audacity to succumb to rust and wear roughly seven years ago.

In the distance, beyond the streets and past Insomnia’s many skyscrapers, loomed the Citadel, home of the Lucian Royal family and seat of the ruling council of Lucis. A parliamentary monarchy – what a presumptuous concept for a kingdom as old as Lucis!

Noctis once claimed Ardyn had „saved his ass“ by suggesting he cut back on royal privileges and responsibilities. The boy – well, technically he was no boy any more, but to Ardyn, he still was – had displayed a truly admirable ability to rise to all challenges he had been presented with, but in the end, Noctis had never fully grown used to the overwhelming responsibility and the public attention that came with being king. He needed a certain amount of freedom for his peace of mind, and who could better relate to that than Ardyn?

And thinking of freedom … He dropped into the driver’s seat of his convertible and started the engine.

While Ardyn drove down to the coast at a leisurely pace, he watched the people by the side of the road, going after their seemingly insignificant, mundane lives, and listened to the not-so-classical tune that played from his car’s fancy new sound system. He had never been one for movies or video games, but Prompto and Noctis had introduced him to a few scores he’d grown to like.

An hour or more after the appointed time, Ardyn pulled over by the bend that ran past Cape Caem. Just as he had hoped, a pleasant breeze blew in from the sea, the sun was bright and warm, and its light did not bother him much.

The wind carried an indistinct mix of familiar voices with it as Ardyn began to trek up the hill to the light house.

Sure enough, they were all there. Spread around a red-and-white picnic blanket on a sufficiently large patch of grass next to the old light house keeper’s home, and sitting in the same old camping chairs, were the Royal family, its most loyal retainers, and their families in turn. Ardyn hardly got the time to take stock of all the familiar faces before the children came running up to him.

Valyria just barely caught her own two children by the backs of their shirts to stop them, whereas King and Queen made no attempt to keep their five-year-old prince from latching onto Ardyn’s leg like a love-hungry sabre tooth.

„Uncle Ardie!“

The little prince’s twice-as-old sister and the divine messenger dogs of her Majesty, Pryna and Umbra, were following the boy on his heels.

Ardyn chuckled at Noctis’ son. „Now, now, my little prince. I still need that leg, you know?“

The prince stepped back from him, if only to look up at Ardyn with innocent, blue eyes. Somnus’ likeness still ran unnaturally strong in the Lucian bloodline, but Ardyn had taught himself to see Noctis’ features in the boy’s face rather than his brother’s.

„Did you bring us any gifts, Uncle Ardyn?“ the princess asked. Thankfully, she took after her mother and her more gentle personality.

„Greedy little goblins, aren’t you?“ Ardyn squatted down in front of them. „Of course I brought something for you.“ From his armiger, he summoned a gift-wrapped box. „Chocolates of the finest variety, from the wonder of the seas that is Altissia, hand-picked just for my favourite children.“

Oohing and aahing, the prince all but snatched the box from Ardyn’s hands and ran off with it, yelling „Look! Uncle Ardie’s got us chocolates!“

„Not that you’d know how to appreciate the craftsmanship, though,“ Ardyn quietly said to himself and straightened back up. Over time, perhaps, they would learn to value high-quality goods. These children were ridiculously easy to please and entertain.

With the prince and princess dealt with, Ardyn could continue his way to the Royal gathering.

Noctis was there, of course, with Lunafreya by his side. Gladiolus and Valyria were talking to their twins, while Prompto was eagerly taking pictures of everyone, and Ignis was preparing sandwiches at a camping table nearby.

„You’re such a hypocrite,“ Noctis greeted him as Ardyn stepped closer. „You’re going spoil my kids worse than my dad spoiled me.“ The King wore his hair longer than he had twelve years ago. He had also tried to grow a beard like his father’s since.

„Oh, but I’m allowed to,“ Ardyn argued with a smile and pretended to lift the hat he was not wearing to greet Lady Lunafreya. „You see, hypocrisy is a privilege of the elderly.“

She chuckled at his remark. Unlike Noctis, Lunafreya had changed remarkably little over the past years.

Ignis looked up from the tomatoes he was cutting. „You’re quite late.“

„Would’ve been more surprising if he’d been on time,“ Gladio commented off-handedly.

„But mo-om, Uncle Ardyn brought chocolates!“ Valyria’s boy complained to her.

„I already told you; I don’t want you to hang around him so often,“ she lectured her children.

Ardyn turned around to them. „You should listen to your mother. After all, I still am the nefarious King of Demons.“

„So cool,“ Valyria’s little girl whispered.

„That’s not helpful!“ the twins’ mother snapped at him.

Ardyn let out a short laugh. Neither she nor Gladio had ever truly warmed up to him. They were utterly resistant to his charm and bribing – unlike their children.

The company was just as pleasant as it always had been those past twelve years. No accusations. No backstabbing. No fights for power. Some animosity, sure, but Ardyn enjoyed their verbal bouts.

It was because of their company that he kept drifting back to them and their funny little family events, like a message in a bottle that kept washing up on the same shore no matter how often and far it was cast out at sea.

Time flew by rapidly while they chatted and laughed and watched the children play some silly games of heroes and daemons. Before long, the sun had dipped into the sea, long and dark shadows stretched towards the roadside, and Ardyn stood at the cliff behind the lighthouse, watching the orange glistening waves roll towards the shore.

By squinting his eyes at the horizon he could just about make out the thin veil of miasmal particles in the atmosphere that still caused the sun’s light to dim prematurely. Just like the daemons, the threat of the Long Night had not simply disappeared. It had been staved off indefinitely, and yet, there was not an inkling of doubt in Ardyn’s heart that, in time, mankind would find a way to cleanse the skies of corruption, too.

It was not like they could pray to the gods for help, anyway, what with them having been gone for twelve years now. Despite of what some had claimed, the earth and the seas still thrived without them. Possibly even more than before, since the gods’ movements in the mortal realm could no longer cause natural disasters. It was a thought that never failed to amuse Ardyn.

„So that’s where you’ve wandered off to.“

Ardyn cast a glance over his shoulder.

In passing, Noctis pet the black cat that sat on the crates behind the lighthouse and walked up to the railing where Ardyn was standing.

„Noct,“ he greeted his nephew. „I see you’ve come to seek me out all by yourself. May I assume that you’re here to request my council?“

Noctis smirked at him. „Nope,“ he said in that colloquial tone he had never fully abandoned. „Try again.“

„Oho! You’re challenging me? Very well, let’s see then, shall we?“ Ardyn thought hard about it, even if only for a moment. Nine out of ten times Noctis came asking for advice or his opinion on a matter, and if he came to him alone, it usually just meant that he wanted Ardyn to be his most honest self. „Perhaps you have a favour to ask? A need for my blade, or another of my skills?“

„That’s not it, either.“ Noctis shook his head. „Actually, it might be the furthest thing from your mind.“

„The farthest thing from my mind? I suppose that could be anything and nothing at all.“ Ardyn gave it another thought before he chose to yield. „There’s no point in keeping me guessing, is there?“

„I just came to ask how you’re doing.“

Ardyn chuckled. „Oh, that old thing!“

Noctis leaned onto the railing and stared out at the sunset along with Ardyn. „I believe it’s been almost a year since I last asked how it’s going with that medication.“

„And I believe I’ve asked you not to concern yourself with this.“

„You taught me to be persistent,“ Noctis argued.

Ardyn had to laugh at that.

„You know, you can ask us to stop, but that won’t keep Luna and me from worrying. We’re at least partly responsible for talking you into this, but I know there’s no chance you’ll recover as quickly as Luna has.“

Ardyn scoffed quietly at his words. They were no more responsible than he was, for his longing to be human again.

A kind of comfortable silence settled between the two of them while the sun ever so slowly sunk into the ocean. It still felt like both a blessing and an honour to see the world at peace.

„This so-called medicine …,“ Ardyn began after all, quiet and sincere. „It’s killing me. Little by little, day by day.“

Although he did not take his eyes off the glistening waves, he could feel Noctis looking at him. „If it’s weakening your dark magic, then that doesn’t have to mean you’re dying.“

„I can feel it. It’s destroying me from the inside. A pain similar to the sting of light, and yet quite different.“

Another moment of silence passed. It was a lot for Noctis to process, he surmised.

„Why are you so chill about this? I mean … How can you smile saying that?“

Finally, Ardyn turned around to him. The hint of distress in Noctis’ features was not unexpected. In a way, even at thirty-two, he was still young and naive.

„Now, now! Don’t look so glum, my dear king,“ Ardyn said, giving him his best grin. „Dying a little day by day is quite akin to aging, is it not? And after feeling the years pile up at my back for two eons, I suppose it’s just relieving, to know that there will be an end.“

„You were hardly conscious during most of those eons.“

„And yet, they weigh on my soul all the same.“

Noctis fell silent in defeat, and Ardyn resumed watching the sunset for a while.

„Still, it’s not what the medicine was supposed to do,“ Noctis added.

Ardyn chose not to grace him with a reply. It was too silly, and really quite too emotional to think that Noctis and Luna had long since achieved what the medicine had failed to do. Although he could never again be the man he once was, nor wanted to be, – his soul for all eternity scarred by the gods’ games and Somnus’ betrayal – he had found his peace, and humanity, knowing that he could still do so much good in his own, twisted and dark ways.

„Oh man,“ Noctis uttered with a heavy sigh. „And here I was, about to hand you down to my son when he’s king.“

In a theatrical display, Ardyn put a hand to his heart. „Hand me down? Is such a thing even legal?“

„I was even thinking about writing him a handbook on the dos and don’ts of how to stay on your good side,“ Noctis elaborated, smirking.

„You should’ve come asking yours truly for assistance. I could’ve told you right away to put trying to bequeath your immortal relative on the list of don’ts.“

„Ah, I get it now,“ Noctis replied and laughed at their silly exchange. „So that’s why you’re dying. You’re teaching me another lesson!“

„Oh, I most definitely could,“ Ardyn replied just as the specks of light dancing on the waves faded away. „One is never too old to learn, after all.“

„Seriously though,“ Noctis continued in a more sober tone of voice. „I’m not sure how Lucis will keep up with the rest of the world when you’re gone. Every time you return to the Citadel, you’ve figured out some new threat or concern of Lucis’ people the council wasn’t even remotely aware of. I’ve been trying, but I just can’t seem to keep up with everything.“

„Now, that’s hardly surprising what with you confined to the Citadel most of the time,“ Ardyn remarked.

„It’s not like I can just walk among the people and listen in on their conversations Wish I still could walk around without being recognized, though.“

„I suppose either you or one of your descendants will simply have to rise to the challenge and find a way to solve this conundrum. After all, you’ve proven rather successful at surmounting them so far.“

„That’s more praise than I deserve, I’m afraid.“

„It’s no compliment, merely an observation.“ Ardyn added, cleared his throat and gestured at the first stars twinkling in the darkening sky. „In an age without prophecies, we shall never know what the future brings, though we can find confidence in what we have achieved in the past and the skills we wield at present in order to secure a desirable tomorrow.“

Noctis scoffed at him. „Well, thanks for that unprompted speech.“

„Hey, Noct! Ardyn!“

Both of them turned around to see Prompto waving at them from the path to the old light house keeper’s home.

„Dinner’s about ready! You comin’ or what?“

„Don’t you dare start without me,“ Noctis replied and walked over to his friend.

Ardyn cast one more glance back at the sunset. The last rays of light disappeared behind the horizon, nightfall claimed the lands of Lucis once more, and Ardyn, too, eventually left to join his friends and family at dinner.