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It were a small cough and a wheeze that tripped him up more than the sudden stillness of the battle. Mere minutes before he had just barely managed to get out of the way of a blow that had effectively shattered the shield that Gladio always carried, but now not a single creature moved, an ear-piercing sound that had made him cringe more than the fact he just barely managed to avoid a certain deathblow thanks to Gladio.
It was as if someone, somehow, knocked the air out of each and every single daemon in Insomnia after all these years, and he knew exactly what that meant - not that he had the time to stop and grieve now. It was the coughing and wheezing along with the long groaning that escaped the lesser of these creatures now that threw him off.
There was energy dispersing and vanishing, as if being dragged into nothingness, not unlike what the Ring of the Lucii could do, and had he still had his eyesight, Ignis would have most likely looked around bewildered. Now he was simply frozen on the spot, waiting for Gladio to get back on his feet, and for Prompto to...
Another cough followed by a soft groan, and Gladio pulled himself to his feet with a wheeze.
Ignis could hear the first of the daemons vanishing, and the still air of Insomnia suddenly seemed to vibrate. Tremors went through the city as daemons collapsed and gave way to what had been prophesised since the very beginning of time, gave way to what would most likely be the first natural light on Eos in years. But even through the tremors and screeches of the dying abominations, he heard that soft groaning - it grated in his ears worse than any screech.
Over the years they had just forgotten, once more simply assumed it was but another tattoo. But Prompto, he now realised as he limped after Gladio, who was just barely dragging himself over to their writhing comrade, stood no chance against this.
The tremors intensified and nearly knocked Gladio and him over, but they dropped on their knees next to curled up Prompto.
"Urgh... guys..."
"Don't."
"This seems like..."
"I said, don't."
Even through the strain Gladio's voice sounded oddly broken as he asked Prompto to stop, and Ignis slowly removed his half-shattered glasses. They usually broke when fighting daemons, especially in the last year had he gone through a lot of pairs, but the fact that he had been given these by Prompto after their last outing together before Noctis returned just seemed to salt the wound that was just opening up. He placed them on the floor and tried grabbing Prompto's arm to check for injuries - it was Prompto who took his hand instead with a small laugh between a strained wheeze.
"Seems like... the Astrals consider... half an MT still... enough to get purged... eh..."
Around them Insomnia shook once more, this time with daemons vanishing instead of Citadel and the surrounding areas getting bombed. The air seemed to be different now that the daemons were perishing, and Prompto's grip on his hand tightened a little. Even Gladio let out a sound of surprise, and Ignis could just about imagine what was happening before Prompto simply whispered "Dawn...".
Ten years of darkness were coming to an end - for other people. By some hilarious stroke of fate he and Gladio would live past the sunrise, would be the only two people in Insomnia left to find the king dead amongst the rubble. He wouldn't particularly be able to see him, after all.
The air, stagnant for ten years unless there were creatures on the prowl, seemed to suddenly gain momentum again, and Ignis could feel it. It was as if someone was breathing life back into Eos, back into Insomnia, and with every passing second the energy that had dispersed years and years ago was returning. He could just barely tell something was getting warmer, as Prompto himself was also getting somehow colder.
The wheezing died down to soft choking - Prompto was crying, and Ignis just gently took his hand off his arm and held it between both of his hands. The fingers were cold, so very cold. At the very least he'd get to see the sunrise again, at least parts of it.
They sat there like this, with Ignis holding one of Prompto's hands and Gladio on his knees next to Prompto, with the seeing two staring at the sunrise. A few minutes passed in absolute silence outside of their ragged breathing, and then Prompto laughed quietly. His voice was barely above a whisper at this point.
"End of the road... I'll be seeing you... again, but... Can't keep... Noct and... Lady Lunafre...ya... waiting there..."
Ignis just shook his head, while Gladio let out a growl. "Didn't I tell you not to."
The last thing they ever heard from Prompto was a laugh half stuck in his throat as it died with him.
By the time they moved again his legs were numb and the air was considerably warmer. It wasn't quite day yet (he assumed), but the moment he heard Gladio get back on his feet he looked up.
"What are you--"
Instead of an answer, he heard him grab his phone - of course. Iris. After a few minutes Gladiolus just sighed deeply and put the phone away again; she hadn't answered despite his several calls. There would always be time to talk to her later, though, as Gladio pointed out. Ignis simply shrugged and got up as well - he stumbled due to his numb legs, but Gladio offered him a hand until he stood straight despite their exhaustion.
Once Ignis let go the other man sighed deeply and got back down. He didn't ask what the other was doing - of course he wasn't going to leave Prompto there despite the fact their companion was lying in a puddle of blood. There was also no question as to what they were going to do next; they just started walking into the familiar halls.
They rode the elevator in absolute silence, but Ignis noticed that Gladio was getting more uncomfortable with every passing second, and thus once they stood in front of the throne room Ignis raised a hand to stop his friend.
"Let me go in there alone."
"You can't--"
"See? Yes. Go alone? Yes. Whatever was in there, it made the three of you tense up 'ere Ardyn knocked us out to lure Noctis out on his own. Whatever was in there might still be there, along with what we... will find. I can't see it, but you can."
It hurt to admit. He would have killed abillion daemons just to see Noct one last time before they departed for Insomnia on what could only be summarised as suicide mission, but the Astrals were never that friendly. His sight was gone, it had been gone for ten years, and the last he saw of Noct was how they separated for their missions in Altissia. Maybe it was better this way, because as Gladio seemed unable to answer, he simply strode on ahead almost casually.
If the only other living person in Insomnia right now (so he assumed) hadn't known he couldn't see, no one would have guessed watching him walk towards the door. Maybe they'd have guessed once his hands fumbled around a little cluelessly, but after that he once more walked on as if he could see what was going on around him.
Ignis, naturally, didn't know that what had shaken up Noctis, Gladiolus and Prompto had been nothing but an illusion conjured up by Ardyn, but better safe than sorry. They had woken up as Noctis has been fighting the man and immediately left the room without the other two looking back at whatever they had seen.
At first he attempted to use the left staircase to the throne, but realised rather quickly that it seemed to be impassable with how something had collapsed onto it. So he turned around, and every stair was like climbing an entire mountain.
After what seemed like an eternity he arrived at his destination - the throne.
It had always been very hard to imagine Noctis on this throne, so he was grateful he was spared the view of it. Unfortunately enough even without his sight there was the unmistakable scent of blood, and the eerie stillness and silence hurt more than every bruise and gash on his body. Despite knowing better, he softly called his name, as if he would reply ever again.
He let out a deep sigh as he knocked against the sword stuck in the throne and simply extended a hand. His fingers brushed a cold cheek. Merely this split second of a touch was enough to send him crumpling to the floor in front of the throne and nearly letting out a wail of agony.
Ten years. Ten years and this was how it had to end, as the gods had preordained long before they had even been born - the King of Light would perish, most likely in a world nearly completely broken, and leave behind broken people. Leave behind broken hearts.
He barely managed to hold back the scream that was bubbling up somewhere in his throat; there was no point in screaming and cursing the Astrals, the old kings, or the one who had caused all this mess ot begin with. The chapter of the book had ended, and there was no going back, there was no making it unread or unwritten, even. Ignis could feel how sunlight fell in through what was most likely a collapsed ceiling and it shone on his back almost painfully. Part of him wanted to go up in flames as daemons did in the light, but alas, he would not spontaneously combust no matter how much he wished it.
He wasn't a bomb-type daemon. He was just Ignis Scientia, the blind man who used to be one of the last King of Lucis' closest friends. One of the people who lived through ten years of eternal darkness and nothing but fighting for survival.
... It was so unfair.
Finally he let out the wail he had been holding back and crashed a fist onto the floor. He knew even if it was dusty and covered in rubble, this floor would still manage to shine despite that, not unlike the crystal. Thus he cringed when it hit a half-dry puddle of blood. Ignis hadn't expected that.
As he started sobbing in front of the throne, he could only wish Noctis hadn't suffered like Prompto had. Hopefully at least his death hadn't been as long and painful as those ten years without him had been - if he had only known, it would have given him some kind of closure. After all, the dead could rest and would most likely meet those who had gone before them in the afterlife, if that really existed. Ignis truly wished there was, especially since Prompto had died just saying that he'd be seeing him and Gladio again.
He banged his fist on the floor some more, splattering some of not-yet-dry blood on himself. Gladioluswould have to wait some longer before he could gather up the strength to even dare moving Noctis from this cursed seat. Maybe for just a second Ignis could make himself believe that Noctis was okay, just resting, and that the three of them would rebuild Insomnia together as liege and closest persons of trust.
It was almost too hot by the time noon arrived. They weren't used to the light anymore. Aranea Highwind complained about the light blinding her before uncomfortably falling silent. Not that he cared, really. He and Gladio had left Insomnia the way they came - on foot. Gladio had carried Prompto, and Ignis Noctis. At least that much he had insisted on when Gladio eventually entered the throne room just ti find Ignis still sobbing and nearly clinging one of Noctis' legs, practically begging the Astrals to give at least him back.
Nothing of that outburst showed now as they were on this bridge that connected Insomnia to the rest of the kingdom.
Or, well, former kingdom. The line of Lucis had ended with the 114th king barely ascending to the throne before being shot down in his prime, all for a stupid prophecy.
Were this a fairy tale they would all have lived, Prompto and Noctis would be getting up and they'd be celebrating their victory together. If it were a real, full-blown tragedy they would have at least perished - maybe not together, but perished and reunited in this ghastly afterlife people talked about once the play was over.
Instead, the King's Shield and the King's Advisor lived to tell the tale.
And Ignis hated every single second of it.