Untold Omens
Chapter Three: Web of Lies
"So, Optimus Lucis Caelum the 108th was the first king that put up the walls around Insomnia," muttered Aracelis under her breath.
With a half-eaten granola bar in one hand, she absentmindedly walked through the school halls while immersed in Ignis' research notes. There was no actual point for her to read it since she already found what she was looking for. However, it was pity to discard the green-eyed young man's meticulously researched notes. It made her almost wish there was some importance to the research rather than her reading it for the sake of buying time.
In her search for answers, Aracelis unwittingly discovered an event that failed to come to pass in the world. Somehow, Prince Noctis never suffered injuries from a marilith that would become the catalyst to trigger his meeting with a number of important individuals to his life. Unless Aracelis somehow reconnected the prince to his crownsguard in less than six years' time, the world was on track to an apocalyptic hellhole.
From what she'd seen so far, Prompto was well on his way to becoming friends with Noctis… If the blond took advantage of his chance meeting and actually talked to the prince. Instead, he's taken to calling her randomly throughout the week for whatever reassurance he needed for his low self-esteem. She almost regrets giving him the option to confide in her. With how squeamish the boy was, it might take a while before approaching Noctis, if he ever decides to do so.
…Maybe she could get Gladio involved somehow and kill two birds with one stone, but she hasn't thought of a good excuse to get the muscle-headed Amicitia on board. Not that either of them was a major concern at this point. They've already made contact with Noctis, unlike Ignis who hasn't even seen the prince, much less spoekn to him. She needed to find an opportunity for them to meet sooner rather than later.
"…Is that all you ever eat?" asked Ignis, trailing after her at her leisure pace.
"Hm?" Aracelis glanced up from his notes, suddenly remembering he was there. This was the first time he has actually spoken to her since she asked him for help.
"I've watched you eat nothing but granola bars for the last several days," noted the bespectacled teen before her. "Do you eat nothing else?"
"…Only when I'm busy," replied Aracelis as she eyed her bar of dry berries, oats and nuts. She lost count of how many of these she's eaten. She estimated it to be at least a bulk-sized box every two weeks or so. "It's convenient."
"It's hardly healthy," frowned Ignis with brows furrowed.
"But it does save me the trouble of ordering food, waiting for the food and lastly eating the food," reasoned Aracelis. She tucked the notes under her arm before she grabbed her water bottle and took a swig from it.
"Why not bring your own lunch?" asked the other teen.
"Can't cook," admitted the brunette as she capped her bottle and stowed it in her bag. She grabbed the notes from under her arm before she turned to stare pointedly at him. "And sandwiches aren't worth the effort to make when a granola bar has about the same nutritional value."
"I see," murmured Ignis.
"By the way," Aracelis stopped in the middle of the hall and lifted his notes for emphasis. At her abrupt stop, the students walking behind them fumbled to redirect themselves to walk around her. "This is very well done. Have you ever thought about applying for a job as the prince's advisor?"
"…This is the second time you're suggesting I work for the crown," noted Ignis inquisitively as he politely stepped aside for their fellow students. "May I ask why?"
"Um…" Aracelis feigned a cough to buy time to come up with an excuse. It was her fault for not segueing into it better. "You… just seem like you'll fit the role very well. It's a waste to have your talents used for anything less."
"Like researching for you?" mused Ignis.
"That's for the benefit of the king and prince," argued Aracelis defensively. "It's out civic duty!"
"You're oddly patriotic," commented the taller teen softly.
Aracelis opened her mouth to retort, but found herself unable to come up with an appropriate response. It does seem strange for her to be so active about helping the crown when she had no reason to, especially at her age. However, it doesn't change the fact Ignis was slowly losing interest in helping her pointless endeavor. Despite her attempts to show investment on his research, she could see his awareness of her disinterest in the material. With a sigh, the brunette lowered the research notes and looked him straight in the eye.
"…How about I get you some coffee?" offered Aracelis before she followed up with an explanation. "For helping me with this."
"Oh…" Ignis blinked in surprise before nodding quietly.
The two eventually made their way to the cafeteria. Ignis broke off to find seats for them, while Aracelis waited on line to purchase the promised hot drinks. She had the time between waiting for the drinks and taking them back to Ignis to come up with a reasonable request to keep associating with the other teen. Unfortunately, her mind remained blank as she made her way back to Ignis and handed the bespectacled teen his drink.
Since neither of them were adept conversationalists, they quickly fell into a pall of silence the moment she sat down. It was something Aracelis grew to notice with frequency when it came to her trying to talk to people.
"So…" started Aracelis, her hands nursing the warm paper cup. "I don't think we found the answer."
"I'm not sure if there was an answer to be found," replied Ignis evenly as he watched the steam rise from his coffee.
"Look…" The freckled-face brunette stared down at her drink as she began her lie. "The truth is, I only approached you to be your friend. I didn't really need you to do research… Sorry."
"That's a lie," replied Ignis bluntly.
"It's not—" She began to defend herself, but when their gaze met, she found it pointless to attempt a fake friendship. With a dismissive tone, she returned to her original plan. Maybe she could set him on another pointless research endeavor. "…Fine, I only approached you for your superior research skills, but it's obvious you don't believe my theory. There is something wrong with the king and the prince! It's probably not genetic as I initially assumed."
"Is that so?" noted Ignis.
"See, you don't believe me," huffed Aracelis.
"How are you so convinced? Lethargy alone is hardly evidence," pressed Ignis.
"It's…" Aracelis paused and thought over her next words.
Ignis had already called out her lies once already, it would do her no good to lie carelessly again. She needed something believable to convince him otherwise. Obviously the king and prince's failing health were no longer viable excuses. If she wanted him to believe her, the matter would have to affect more than the royal family. It would have to affect the public as well. What would be a big enough issue that could start small and then spread?
She thought back to Noctis in hopes of coming up with something from her memory. However, all she could think about was the prince fanboying over video games, carefree and oblivious to her plight. It made her wish she was at the arcade slaughtering zombies by the hundreds.
…Wait, zombies? Aracelis' eyes furrowed as she curled a fist against her lips. A zombie apocalypse would be too much of a stretch, but an epidemic of a similar caliber might just be a good enough excuse. What kind of epidemic was there in Eos that'd be big enough to cause concern and haven't had a proper cure yet?
"…Not lethargy, but something slow acting that eats away at the body enough to be mistaken for it," mumbled Aracelis under her breath as she tried to reason out the possibilities. "Something with the potential to worsen over time until it's too late."
"Something that eats away at the body over time?" repeated Ignis thoughtfully. "That sounds awfully like…"
"Starscourge," whispered Aracelis in realization as she turned to face him.
"In the city?" frowned Ignis."Is that even possible?"
"… I don't know," admitted the brunette. "How does starscourge get transmitted anyhow?"
Inwardly, she did her best to hide her elation at the unexpected crack shot in the dark. It was a miracle she managed to come up with such an arbitrary excuse. Hopefully, the research would take a bit longer compared to the Lucian Kings and she won't have to come up with another wild goose chase for the young man.
"I suppose we'll have to find out," noted Ignis pensively.
"Indeed," murmured Aracelis behind her cup. Lying was far from her forte and she did not look forward to doing it again.
The clacking of wooden swords clashing with one another echoed through the training halls. Gladio kept a firm stance as he blocked blow after blow from the dark-haired prince. At a glaring opening, the Amicitia heir darted forward and disarmed Noctis with a decisive blow. The wooden sword flew out of the younger teen's hand as he was knocked to the ground.
"You can do better than that," grunted Gladio, displeased by the younger man's effort.
Noctis said nothing as he pushed himself up and went to grab his wooden sword. The two of them resumed the starting stance before the young prince darted forward again. It took no more than two parries before he was knocked to the ground once more by Gladio.
"Again," rumbled Gladio, hefting his wooden training sword over his shoulder, towering a beaten Noctis on the training room floors.
"No," groused the dark-haired prince as he pushed himself off the ground. "It's dinnertime."
Noctis ignored any further attempts from the older teen to get him back for more training. Annoyance filled Gladio as he watched the other leave the room. This was a common occurrence for how their sessions end. It drove him mad to see the prince approach his training with such a lackluster manner. However, there was little he could do beyond what he was already doing. It's been this way since he started working full-time as crownsguard.
From a young age, he knew his future was to be the shield for the prince once King Regis passed. Unlike other children, Gladio was privately tutored and sped through the typical school curriculum so he could take on crownsguard duties earlier, much like his father at his age. Beyond training the prince and his various duties, there was little else for him to do. It made most days seem pointless by the time he made his way home.
Even so, he persevered and continued. He was an Amicitia, it was his duty to become crownsguard and serve the king. He had to push forward.
Clack, Clack, Clack
Gladio paused and doubled back at the sound of furious typing. When he peeked into Jared's office, he found Aracelis alternating between reading paper ledgers and transcribing its content onto her laptop. Everything seemed as it should, except he could tell the brunette was stressed about something. How could he not since they practically grew up together. She was about the only friend he had close to his own age, even though they don't always agree on most things.
"You look stressed," commented Gladio as he rested an arm at the door frame.
"Oh, you're back," sighed Aracelis tiredly. She broke away from her screen for a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose. "It's been a long week. How was crownsguard duty?"
"Same as always," grunted Gladio.
"The prince still a little shit?" noted Aracelis dryly.
"When is he not?" grumbled the older teen.
"Maybe he'll grow out of it eventually," suggested the brunette offhandedly.
"If only," snorted Gladio. "He's as lazy as ever."
"He's still young," reasoned Aracelis. "There's still time for him to mature."
"You definitely have high hopes for him," scoffed Gladio.
"I just—"
Ring, Ring!
Gladio frowned as Aracelis excused herself to check her phone. How unusual, he noted. The brunette wasn't known to have many friends and seldom received calls. Who on earth would call her at this hour? An exasperated look crossed his friend's face, followed by a string of dark mutterings under her breath when she recognized the name on the screen. Gladio watched with growing interest when her exasperation turned into resignation.
"Prompto, I swear if you're in the hospital again because you got hit by another car I will murder you," groused the girl.
Again? Gladio's eyes widened, his curiosity peaked by the person on the other side of the call. What kind of person gets hit by a car with that much frequency? He watched Aracelis fall silent as the other side continued to chatter. He'd never seen her so patient with someone that wasn't Iris.
"You reckless idiot! Stay where you are, I'm coming," growled the brunette before she hung up and stood from her seat. "Sorry Gladio, I'm going to head out."
"You're going out at this hour?" interrupted the Amicitia with a frown. "Who is this?"
"A hopeless idiot I nearly ran over a while back," grumbled the girl as she hastily packed away her things.
"You nearly what?" gapped Gladio in disbelief.
"Honestly! If it's not one thing, it's another with that boy!" rambled Aracelis as she swung her back over her shoulder and stormed out of the room. "I'm surprised he's managed to stay alive up to this point!"
"Wait, wait, wait!" shouted Gladio as he stopped her. "You're going to see him now?"
"Gladio, if you're worried, don't be. At this point, Prompto is a bigger hazard to himself than anyone else," groused Aracelis. "I'm going to wring his neck! He hasn't even recovered yet and he goes off over-exerting himself to the point that he can't even walk home!"
"Arie, I'm coming with you," insisted Gladio, his grip tightening on her shoulder to keep her from storming off.
"Fine, you overbearing, muscle-headed—"
Gladio tuned out the rest of Aracelis' incessant rambling as he followed her to the car. Over the years, he's grown unfazed to her insults. Despite the vehement rambling, none of the insults were meant with malice. It was almost akin to an endearment by this point.
…Much like her poor driving skills when she's stressed out with worry.
"Slow down," said Gladio, hand gripped tightly to the handle above his head. He had made sure to buckle himself in the moment they got in the car, but he hadn't realized the extent of Aracelis' stress levels. He was certain she hit nearly every dip and pothole as she steadily sped through the city. Yet, still somehow keeping within the speed limit.
By the time they finally stopped, Gladio was certain he left a permanent handprint on the handle bar from gripping so hard. Out the window he spotted a chubby blond teen seated on the stone barrier that separated the park from the pedestrian sidewalk and the main road. Aracelis unbuckled herself and haphazardly darted out of the car, not caring that she was slamming her door as she went.
The younger boy awkwardly raised a hand to greet her, but grimaced at the scolding to follow. Gladio couldn't hear what was being said with the windows closed, but he almost felt bad for the blond. Aracelis wasn't particularly good at showing concern for people. Sometimes, he's not even sure if she's capable of doing so.
The kid—Prompto, he recalled Aracelis calling him earlier—was probably the least intimidating individual he's ever seen. Chubby, embarrassed and covered in bandages, the boy was as Aracelis claimed, a hazard more to himself than to anyone else around him. A sheepish grin crossed his face as he no doubt tried to give a reasonable explanation to calm the brunette's ire, but she would have none of it. He dipped his head down guiltily and twiddled his fingers.
Feeling the kid had suffered enough under Aracelis' no doubt harsh chastising, Gladio decided to leave the car and save him from further abuse. He doesn't look capable of having any untoward intentions against the brunette and Aracelis seemed to be genuinely concerned for the boy.
"Arie," called out Gladio as he approached.
"Holy—" yelped Prompto in surprise at the sight of him, but quickly silenced himself before he could say something potentially offensive. "Um… hi?"
"Oh good, you're here," said Aracelis before thumbing a finger to the blond. "Can you carry him to the car? The idiot can't walk."
"What!" squeaked Prompto as he glanced between her and Gladio.
"Fine, but I'm driving," noted Gladio.
"What? Why?" frowned Aracelis.
"Because you're a horrible driver when you're stressed," reasoned the taller teen.
"I am not!" groused the girl.
"Then you can carry blondie yourself," retorted Gladio.
"You don't have to carry me!" protested Prompto weakly. "I mean…I can—"
"If you can walk, you wouldn't call me," scoffed Aracelis before she turned to walk to the car. "I'll get the navigation ready, Gladio. Just get him into the car."
"You're the boss," chuckled the Amicitia heir as he moved to haul up Prompto. "Up we go blondie."
"Eep!" squeaked Prompto. He clutched onto Gladio's arm in surprise as the bigger teen picked him up bridal style and carried him to the backseat of Aracelis' car.
"Buckle up Prompto," said the brunette as she pulled up the blond's address on the navigation.
A wry grin tugged at Gladio's lips as the blond scrambled to do as he was told. Aracelis had a way with telling people what to do and generally people would more or less listen. He shook his head in amusement and made his way into the driver's side. With a few adjustments to the seat and the mirror, he glanced to the navigation briefly before driving off.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Prompto visibly uncomfortable in the back seat through the mirror. The blond chose to remain silent and as unobtrusive as possible. Aracelis on the other hand drummed her fingers absentmindedly against the door while deep in thought. She seemed less agitated compared to when they were still back in the office, but she was still far from relieved.
Which meant, while Prompto wasn't the source of her stress, he was adding to it. His level of carelessness was enough to drive even someone like Aracelis with worry. The thought didn't sit well with Gladio, he didn't like seeing his friend wracked with worry. He may not know what was truly bothering her, but Prompto seemed like an easy enough task for him to remedy.
"Arie, why don't you stay in the car? I'll take the kid inside," suggested Gladio once he parked in front of the blond's house.
"If you're offering, I'm not going to complain," said Aracelis dismissively before she turned back to the utterly terrified Prompto seated in the back. "If the muscle-head threatens you with something ridiculous, just call me. If I don't hear from you, I will come and check on you to make sure he didn't kill you. Okay?"
"Ah… um… okay?" murmured Prompto, nervously shifting and too terrified to look either of them in the eye. Had he looked, he would've seen Gladio rolling his eyes before he got out of the car to retrieve the blond.
"Come on kid, say goodnight to Arie," said the Amicitia heir dryly.
"Night," repeated Prompto obediently. His body went completely stiff when the older teen hauled him out of the car like a sack of potatoes and made way towards his house.
"Prompto right?" started Gladio once they were a good distance away from the car.
"I'm sorry!" shouted Prompto and startled the older teen. "You're Aracelis' boyfriend right? I didn't mean anything by calling her at this hour! I was in trouble and I didn't know who else to call and—"
"Her boyfriend?" snorted Gladio before he bellowed out in laughter. "You better not let her hear that or she might kill you herself."
"So… you're not?" asked Prompto in confusion.
"Nah, just a concerned friend," chuckled Gladio. "Speaking of which, why don't you have anyone else besides Arie to contact for help? Where are your parents?"
"Ah… they're busy with charity work," mumbled Prompto sheepishly. "Arie insisted I call her if I needed help."
"Is that so?" murmured Gladio as he reached the door. "Listen, you seem like a good kid, but you can't call her every single time you need something. She has a life of her own too you know."
"…Sorry," apologized Prompto quietly. "I didn't realize I was being a bother. I…um… I'll try not to call her too much."
At the sight of the dejected and guilt-ridden blond, Gladio regretted ever opening his mouth. Aracelis wasn't the only one who was bad with dealing with the feelings of other people. He clicked his tongue and ruffled the back of his head in frustration. There had to be something he could do to fix this.
"Hey," grunted Gladio. "How about I train you to be a bit more self-sufficient, so you don't need to call her as much?"
"Huh?" said Prompto in surprise as he looked up to the older teen once more.
"You're obviously trying to train yourself for something and overdid it. Otherwise you wouldn't need to call Aracelis in the first place," reasoned Gladio. "If you want, I can give you pointers and training when I have free time."
"Really? You'd do that for me?" said the blond in amazement.
"Sure, why not," shrugged Gladio. "In return you stop giving Aracelis random heart attacks like getting hit by cars."
"She told you about that?" yelped Prompto, his face flushed red.
"First thing I heard her say the moment she picked up your call," chuckled Gladio. "So, how about it? Are you up for it?"
"… Yeah!" nodded Prompto enthusiastically. The fear he previously showed all but melted away as he looked up at Gladio in a new light.
"Good, now where are your keys?" asked Gladio as he held out his hand.
The blond wiggled in the Amicitia heir's hold as he rummaged for his keys and handed it to the older teen. Gladio made quick work dropping him down on the couch before trading numbers. With a promise that he'll contact Prompto, he made his way back to the car to find Aracelis asleep in the passenger seat. Even in sleep, her brows were knitted with worry. Gladio made note to check his schedule once he got home to make sure he keep Prompto occupied long enough to give her a break.
A quiet sizzle hissed in the kitchen followed by the gentle scraping from a spatula. Cooking has become a comforting routine for Ignis since his parents died and he came to his uncle's care. Though, the word care was something he would use loosely. Beyond supplying him with the appropriate funds to buy what he needed to survive, he seldom saw his uncle. The man was constantly busy at the Citadel.
The only other thing the man ever got involved with in his life was his placement in the Valetis Institute, a school meant for children whose parents worked for the Crown. While admission to the school appeared to be open to all, it had a stringent vetting process. No one with unknown backgrounds was accepted and due to nepotism, any student who attended was more or less promised a job at the Citadel upon graduation.
Click, Slam!
"…Uncle?" Ignis called out for a confirmation towards the foyer.
"It's me," answered back the older Scientia.
With a nod to himself, he went back to finishing up his cooking. The relationship between him and his uncle was tenuous at best. They seemed more like roommates than uncle and nephew. While Pryalis Scientia was not a cruel man, he was far from the affectionate sort. After all, he never intended to start a family of his own prior to gaining custody of Ignis.
"It's rather late, are you preparing lunch for tomorrow?" asked Pyralis when he made his way to the open kitchen and living space.
"Yes," nodded Ignis before asking as an afterthought. "Have you eaten yet? I can make extra."
"No, I've eaten already," replied the man dismissively. "Do what you need to do. I trust your studies are going well?"
"Nothing I can't handle," replied the bespectacled teen almost mechanically.
It was a rare occasion that Ignis and his uncle find themselves in each other's presence, yet every time they shared nearly the same conversation. Bland, generic questions that they both knew the answers to, but felt obligated to ask anyway. If only to kill off the awkward silence that would otherwise fill the room. Thinking back to his conversations with Aracelis, it was almost the same with the brunette, but with less obligatory exchanges.
"Well, don't stay up to late," finished the elder Scientia making his way to his room.
"Good night uncle," bid Ignis as he watched the man go.
He looked to the cooling food and started to pile it neatly into a glass container. It was the same routine day in and day out. If he wasn't at school, he was home preparing for school. Cooking was probably the extent of his hobbies. There wasn't much else that interested him. It made him the best in his class, but it also made it hard to talk to any of his peers.
It seemed that his peers thought him to be elusive and perhaps even too exceptional. If the unusual rivalry between Marcus Flavius and Aracelis was anything to go by, he was imperceptible. Despite having scored the highest in their year, the red-haired young man seem fixated to challenge the brunette for second place rather than go after Ignis for first. He recalled the bewildered look on the girl when she noted the other teen had declared the wrong person as his rival and pointed to Ignis instead.
…Speaking of the girl, she was a rather odd one. He wasn't sure what to think of her when she approached him all those weeks ago for research assistance. He supposed the topic was interesting enough at the time to agree, but she made little sense during their exchanges. He's half-convinced the girl was a conspiracy theorist, albeit one that leant towards patriotism rather than anti-authority.
With the influx of immigrants from the outlying territories of Lucis coming to Insomnia, random bouts of unrest rose up from various parts of the city. Most conspiracy theorists thought the worst of the crown and suggest its doing what it can to strip the comforts from its citizens for these supposed outsiders. Even though they too were citizens of Lucis. On the other hand, Aracelis' brand of conspiracies went in the other direction. She even went as far as trying to fake a friendship to get his help. What's even stranger was her insistence that he should work as the prince's advisor.
"…Why am I thinking about this?" murmured Ignis with a shake of his head. He finished packing away his lunch and calling a night.
Strangeness aside, the research topics she brought up were all interesting in their own right. Even if they amount to nothing but conspiracies, it was still an interesting read compared to his usual coursework. He supposed he could indulge her until she decides to leave him alone.
…What he didn't realize was the girl's level of dedication to her insanity.
"Coffee?" offered Aracelis.
Since he agreed to continue researching for her, the brunette made a point to accost him in the courtyard on a regular basis during their lunch period. Despite her previous claims of ordering food and waiting on line as a waste of time, she always made sure to order coffee for him. All the while, maintaining her unhealthy diet of water and granola bars.
"Thanks," accepted Ignis quietly, uncertain to how else to respond to the offer.
At first, the brunette confused him immensely whenever she left after he accepted the beverage. However, as the days went by, he realized it was because she was as equally inept as him when it came to normal conversation. Even so, she did seem grateful that he was continually humoring her conspiracy theories. Maybe, it won't be so bad to keep indulging her.