FINAL FANTASY XV: The Path We Walk Will Be Our Reward

Where, in the moments following the final battle, Noctis, Gladiolus, Ignis, and Prompto unanimously know where heaven is.

Ignis, Prompto, and Gladio stood at the steps of the citadel, holding the titanic daemons at bay so that their King could save Insomnia. As they hacked and slashed at their enemy, they felt their spirits flaring up in their every movement, their desire to defend their King stronger than it had ever been before. There was nothing they could do as he flirted with death, sacrificed himself and his bloodline to save all of Lucis, the frustration of which did nothing to temper their blows.

"Ignis, Gladio! They're getting inside!" Despite their formidable defensive power, the sheer amount of enemies had meant that daemons and Magitek soldiers were penetrating their rank, slipping past toward the Throne Room, where Noct would be.

"We'll retreat back! Defend as close to Noct as possible!" Ignis shouted. It was sound logic, Gladio thought. If they had him in sight, nothing would be able to slip past them and he would still be defensible.

"Back to Noct then!" Gladio shouted. The three Kingsguard retreated back up the steps and to the second floor, where the Throne Room was. Gladio shoved the door open, friends close behind and slammed them shut behind, latching them with the iron bar in one swift movement. Immediate threat removed, they took a moment to examine the room.

There, at the Throne, Noctis Lucis Caelum XIV lay, bent over the Sword of the Father, silent and still.

Prompto was the first to go running up the steps, taking three at a time, until he reached the throne. He screamed Noct's name, fell to his knees and grabbed the King's hand, tears escaping his reddening eyes. Noct wasn't just the Crown Prince or King, he was the quiet but kind boy that Prompto had spent so long working up the courage to talk to. The one who helped him when homework got rough, the one to played King's Knight with, the one Prompto had decided to go into his very first battle for. Part of him, the persistent optimist that shone in even their worst moments, believed against all odds that Noct would be spared somehow by the Astrals or fate itself. Or that Prompto would never have to see him like this, impaled on his throne, his father's sword through his chest, blood pooling in his lap.

Gladio stood stunned where he was, next to the barred door of the Throne Room. He wished there was a Behemoth, or better yet, Ardyn, to take the impact of the punch he delivered to the stone wall. It split the skin between his knuckles, cracked something on the second and third blow. He was the King's Shield. He was an Amicitia. And more than that, Noct was his best friend. Through and through, it was his duty to never let this happen and he had failed. Just like his father had failed. Failed the second he let his King be the sacrificial pawn. He felt his Amicitia blood roar in his ears, fog his vision and his mind. They gave him a mantra, something to hold onto— Kill them, kill everything that dares touch the citadel, then go to your King, even if you lose your legs, your eyes, your life. Only then would he allow himself to bend over the bloodied throne and body and scream his heart out.

After Prompto's scream, Ignis moved up the steps as quickly as he could. The scream was cut off as if Prompto had choked. But his panicked, heaving breaths would not quiet and Ignis homed in on them like a beacon. He made it to the throne in seconds, took off his gloves and fell to his knees as well, feeling around him. His hand reached the back of the cold, Lucian throne. He moved his hand to the left, then right, blocking out all sound and scent of Prompto trying to control himself next to him. Ignis's hand touched warm, wet metal. His breaths were shallow but slow as he forced himself to focus on his best remaining sense. His hands had a tremor by the time the metal he was tracing made contact with damp fabric. His hand traveled up the taut curve of the fabric until he reached soft and feathery hair.

His hand moved upward through the tangled locks of hair, longer than he had remembered. Finally, he reached the forehead, moved down until he felt the fair nose, brushed the eyes, to make sure they weren't open—they weren't. Under his thumbs, he felt the gentle folds of wrinkles under the eyes, more pronounced, he estimated, than his own. Truly, the power of Kings was a heavy weight to bear, something Ignis wished he could have protected—

Ignis's fingers trailed down the still-warm face until his hands rested on the cheeks. It was a beard! And it was a little patchy and if he had known he was un-groomed and unshaven, Ignis would never have let—

Ignis could not stay impartial any longer. It wasn't anyone's face he was cradling. It wasn't anyone's pierced back he had touched. And his fingers weren't smeared with anyone's blood. This was Noctis. The young man he had tutored, cooked for, worried over, fought by the side of, and genuinely let his walls down and laughed with. Noctis had ascended to his Throne, accepted the end of his own life at the point of a sword in order to end the eternal night, and in doing so, ensuring one for Ignis, Gladio and Prompto.

A single loud, broken sob escaped as Ignis, still holding Noctis's head, touched his forehead against his.

"My King, my King…"

"Ignis. Prompto," Gladio's voice was flat and dead when he spoke against the silence. "They're coming."

Prompto, who had been quietly hiccuping, and Ignis, who had been stone-still, raised their heads.

"The daemons." Ignis said, got to his feet, reached for where he left his gloves and headed back down the stairs. It was difficult to put them back on when his hands were shaking so badly, but he put them on, knowing the traces of the King's blood were hidden but still with him. Neither Gladio nor Prompto, who was walking down the stairs next to him, said a word.

Gladio unlocked a compartment by the entrance of the Throne Room to reveal a small cache of emergency weapons—the privileged knowledge of the serving Amicitia—grabbed a slightly rusted greatsword; handed a large gun to Prompto which he would have to improvise with; and several daggers to Ignis. With Noctis gone, there would be no weapons to materialize and Ignis's daggers would not return to him; Gladio's rusty sword would break in just a few blows; and Prompto would be too slow to dodge blows, carrying a heavy gun.

Prompto's finger's tightened around the grip of the gun. He pocketed a reddened picture. The blood-thirsty caterwauls of daemons pierced through the thick wood. They didn't faze him anymore. "Open the damn doors."

Noctis hadn't wanted to die, but he had been ready for it. That said, the pain of his father's blade faded almost immediately. He waited for death. One, two, he felt his soul drop out from under him, fall and fall until it was sucked into something. A place like the netherworld Bahamut brought him. He warped and there he was, Ardyn. As he stood in front of the immortal man, his father, Gladiolus, Prompto, and Ignis appeared at his side, lending him their strength. He didn't have time to think about why his friends had appeared, couldn't think about anything but his duty. Luna appeared too, touching Ardyn on the arm, bathed in a beautiful golden light.

Noctis was spectral, just energy laid to bare. It was as easy as pouring out a glass of water, expending every last ounce of energy he had to call on the Lucii. It was so easy but so painful, fire spreading through his arm and the rest of his body, his constitution failing and crumbling. He understood the weight the Archaean bore as the swords he had absorbed across Lucis forcefully left his body and reformed behind him to become the thirteen kings. He threw out his hand and the kings charged. Noctis barely saw the moment Ardyn was destroyed before he left himself falling again. The pieces of him falling, because he was no longer a form, he was breaking apart into tiny light and even in this darkness, he had never felt more at peace…

…Noct…

…

…Noooctis…

…

"What?"

Open your eyes, great King.

Noctis opened his eyes slowly. He felt nothing, not his body, nor emotions though he remembered what happened, but only as if it were a dream. He saw nothing, not his body, not anything except darkness. And a shape.

King Noctis. Look at me.

Noct struggled on seeing the shape for a moment before he could understand. Standing there, in the vast expanse of nothingness was a dog. Black with white markings, a cloth tied around his leg.

"Umbra."

Yes. Umbra was only panting as he spoke.

"Where am I?"

Your body lays dead on your throne. Soon to be found and buried. But you, you aren't anywhere.

"Oh. Then why am I here?"

You need to choose. You lived a good life, died a good death, and somewhere in-between, you were a good king, King Noctis Lucis Caelum XIV. Although the Lucis bloodline has been extinguished, Insomnia will live on.

"Good."

So, you are offered a choice. I am merely a messenger but I have been allowed to lead you where you want to go. Your afterlife. Would you like to sit at your throne?

In an instant, Noct was in his body again, feeling cleaner, purer, than ever. He was sitting on his throne and Luna was at his side, resting her hands on the armrest, and her head on her hands. She was even more beautiful here than ever before as she gave him a sleepy smile. He returned it, leaning into her until he could feel the tickle of a stray blonde hair on his nose. It was as golden as her magic in this sunlight and she smelled like freshly-cut Syllblossoms.

Sleep, my King, and know that you have done well. Noct could no longer see Umbra and his voice faded.

White flowers had been placed all over the Throne Room. Tapestries with his name flapping in the light, warm breeze. Pryna, the white dog who perished during the attack of Tenebrae, lay at their feet, napping contentedly. As he looked back at Luna, she leaned in and their lips touched tenderly, for just a moment before her gentle eyes fluttered closed and she rested her head back on the armrest.

Noct propped up his elbow to do the same, leaning into her warmth. He had a feeling he would not awake for a long time.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the picture on the armrest—they were at the Galdin Quay, bright, cerulean sky and vast water, still as glass underneath. On the left side, he, Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio posed, smiling. Prompto's hand on his shoulder. It was taken early in their trip, before so much tragedy had struck. He looked at his Sleeping Queen and back at the picture as memory resurfaced, riling him from the heavy, weighty desire for slumber.

They all were sitting around the campfire. Gladio had gotten a cinder in his eye, and wiped it away, but not fast enough that it didn't leave a wet, irritated streak down his left eye. The firelight reflected, making Prompto's eyes look red and puffy. And Ignis's eyes were so damaged so tears would sometimes drop from them, but it wasn't called crying. That's how he had to think, to speak his mind in that moment. He wasn't crying either, at least he hadn't felt them, in his desire to say what he had to, what he owed them, until he sat back down. Noct had accepted his fate, but not the loss of his brothers, that's what made him cry that night. "You guys…are the best."

"My friends." For the first time since he had been stabbed through, Noctis felt a jolt of emotion. Want to see them again. For a better time, where they rode chocobos instead of Leviathan and freezing trains.

"Un. Believable." The soft lilt of the radio played as the rest of the car remained unresponsive.

"Not exactly a fairy tale beginning, huh, Prince Noctis?"

"We let ourselves get carried away."

"Look, these things happen."

"Let's just hope this isn't some omen."

The last traces of exhaustion drained from Noct's body. "Umbra! Umbra!"

In front of his throne, the dog appeared, sitting at his feet.

Is this not what you wanted, Noctis? Would you rather reside by your tomb so that you can receive the gratitude of all the Lucians?

"I need to go back."

To where? Where would you be happiest, dear King?

"I was happiest with my friends, traveling the country. Before everything fell apart. Before everyone died."

Umbra's ears twitched and though his eyes were as unreadable as ever, Noctis could tell he was deep in thought. After a moment, he was at his feet with a bark that didn't stir Luna a bit.

I have a compromise, your Highness. I can send you back. I can do it so it will be as if you never boarded the boat to Altissia. It isn't in your plane of existence, it's a different timeline than your own, where you and your friends can travel together forever.

"What? If there are different timelines, that means we only saved one world among…how many?" The despair started to rise in Noct's voice until he sounded twenty again.

Contrary to some belief, these timelines are quite finite. And each of them matters. You said you wanted to continue to help people? Would a father not mourn a child's death, if they were on a different world?

"I can't, I can't let everything be undone by never traveling to Altissia. Luna would…" Noct trailed off, imagining her making her stand alone against the Leviathan.

This timeline is an existence identical to your own except that people age much more slowly. You, of course, would never age, and the events in Tenebrae and Insomnia will never worsen except if acted upon by a greater force. This world is resistant to change. But, if you go to Altissia in this world, the series of events you know so well will begin to unfold. Will you go experience the afterlife there?

Noctis looked at his bride-to-be, serene and beautiful as Shiva herself. He could sit down and lay his head by hers and finally know rest. But while she was spending her afterlife in her dreams, he could not bare it. He kissed the top of her head, lingering there in her silken hair for a few moments before standing up.

"Luna, I will be back before you wake," he said. Umbra reached out to lick Pryna fondly between the ears before turning back to him.

And so, The Last King of Lucis returns.

Before he could say a word, Noct was engulfed in black again.

And then mid-day brightness, he squeezed his eyes shut and fought for his balance for a second before opening his them. There were other sounds of discomfort around him, too. In front of him, in various states of fallen over, were Gladiolus, Ignis, and Prompto.

They were looking up now, too. Shock and disbelief evident on all of their faces.

"NOCT!" It was a chorus from Noct's three best friends, who looked like their old selves. Relief and delayed fear and pain and everything he had not been allowed to feel since his death all came rolling back on him, choking his voice.

Prompto was the first one to him, throwing his thin arms around him and squeezing tight, resting his forehead on Noct's shoulder. Noct returned the hug as Prompto began to shake and they stood there for just another second before Prompto hopped back and blew him an ecstatic kiss with both the palms of his hands and an exaggerated kiss sound. They were all still wearing their Kingsguard attire, and he, his King's Armaments.

Where would you like to spend eternity? Living in the most beautiful pictures you've ever taken?

"It's not the pictures I care about! The truth is, I'll never take a picture of just a landscape because it's lonely. What make the pictures are the people in them. I died after losing my best friend. I want to go where he is. I don't care where."

Noct laughed and laughed genuinely, making him almost unprepared for when Ignis walked up to him, and grasped his shoulders firmly. For the first time in a very long time, they were able to make eye contact. Ignis could see the world again and he was choosing to stare face to face with Noctis.

Behind them, Prompto excitedly punched Gladio in the stomach and Gladio hooked him under his arm and mussed his hair with the heel of his hand.

Ignis's grip tightened and though his voice was stern, his eyes were bright. "If you ever grow such an un-groomed, un-kingly beard again, Your Highness, I shall be forced to take drastic measures. I prefer you as you are now." Noct's grin made it impossible for him to stop and ask how Ignis had known he had a beard in the first place.

"Of course," he managed.

Where would you like to spend eternity? I could send you the Library of Ancients, the largest compendium of knowledge in the universe.

"I find I care little for knowledge without a chance to put it to use."

Indeed, would you like to reside at the shrine made in your honor? It lies next to Gladiolus's and Prompto's, just outside the entrance of The Savior of Lucis's tomb.

"Is that where Noct is?"

No, he has decided rest is not for him. He would go back and move among the living.

"What a foolish King. He needs someone to look after him. Take me to him, if you would."

Gladio was ready as soon as Ignis backed up, wrapping his arms around his King for just a few moments. "God, I'm glad you're alive, we're all alive." He shoved Noct away from him, good-naturedly. "The Leviathan herself couldn't keep me from my duty now."

Where would you like to spend eternity? I could send you anywhere you like, you could watch over your bloodline, reside by—"

"Just take me to my dumb King."

"So," Ignis said, adjusting his glasses, marveling at the world around him for the first time in ten years, "where to next?" Indeed, the Regalia was parked just thirty feet away, navy blue shining in the first sunlight they'd seen in a decade.

All their eyes turned to Noct, who thought about the picture in his pocket, how he could go fishing and they could enjoy the salty breeze in the Regalia. "How about the ocean?"

—

Umbra padded back into the Throne Room, where Luna lay resting in deep slumber. He sat at her feet and licked her exposed knee.

"Luna, they were tried and tempted but in the end, they chose exactly how you said. Their journey ever lives."

In Luna's sleep, a soft smile graced her lips.

I'll probably add more chapters, one-shots of their life. I already have a couple ideas about what happens next, really. This is how I really, really wish it ended, but I'm not going to say that it didn't have a good ending, it was just incredibly, horribly painful. Anyway, please review!