:IX:
The sea birds circled the ships as they drifted through the deep blue waters of Muir na Bandia, far below the cliffs. The docks were a busy hive of sailors and merchants. Even from their perch hidden high up in the cliffs, the two boys could hear the buzzing of bargaining and the distant shouts of ship captains. The eroded rock was cool against their sun-warmed skin, and the mid-summer breeze brought the Haulian heat across the Goddess's sea making it a rather pleasant day.
Behind the boys was the Royal Castle, a gray, impenetrable fortress that towered over the spiraling port city of Uisci ag Titim, Titim for short. From their vantage point, the pair could see the first five circular, defensive walls that protected the castle and inadvertently separated the various economic classes. Above them was Castle Wall, the sixth and thickest stone wall, which separated the royal family from its people.
Noctis looked down at the apple between his two bruised hands. He'd like to think that he gave as good as he got, but the swollen cheek and cut lip told a different story of his fight with the noblemen's sons.
A pale hand with silvery nails snatched the fruit from his loose grasp. Noctis looked up at the boy who possessed those hands. His friend contrasted this world so much. Wherever Noctis looked it was dull and dark and worn out. Yet, his friend was all pale and silvery and blonde, and wherever he was was bright and vividly alive. Noctis loved nothing more than to watch this ethereal creature for hours work in the gardens when he was supposed to be studying: silvery blonde hair braided back; loose dirt speckled strands tucked behind slightly pointed ears by hands blackened from worked earth; a thin layer of sweat glistening across his brow and dampened the back of his shirt.
On more than one occasion, Noctis had overheard the maids say that the Gardener's son would be more beautiful than any Fíorian princess if only he was cleaner. Noctis disagreed. His friend was at home when he was covered in soil, when he worked the earth with bare hands, and the soft grass cushioned his naked feet. That was when he was the most beautiful.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" his friend asked, pulling out a knife and pealing the fruit.
Noctis watched as the red skin slowly separated from the juicy fruit in a single, long spiral. He didn't really want to tell the other boy what happened, but knew it was pointless to hide it. His friend was clever enough to figure it out—he probably already knew.
With a sigh, Noctis said, "They called you a filthy beast and said that you were good for nothing but labour and killing."
The other boy smiled and arched a slender blonde brow. "I am a filthy beast."
"No, you're not."
"I am Ollphéist, m'anam."
Noctis flushed at the ancient endearment said only in their private company. He couldn't remember when it was first uttered, nor what it mean in translation, but it pleased him nonetheless. Yet, he wouldn't let his friend forget that he was more than Ollphéist.
"You're human too," Noctis said sternly. It was a point he made often enough that he didn't feel the need to give any proof to his argument, merely speak the statement from time to time.
"Only when you're around."
Noctis gave him a flat look.
The other boy laughed. Over the passed year it had become a warmer, deeper sound as the Gardener's son began to change from child to man. Noctis, being a few years younger, had yet to make that change. Yet, when he did, he hoped he managed to do it as elegantly. Many of the other boys were either too broad or too tall. His cousin, at six and ten, still looked like a hairless, gangly stick despite his voice settling years ago. Even though his friend was still in transition, the process seemed smooth and proportionate for him. Noctis was sure that when it was over, the other boy would be a handsome, powerful man.
Sobering, the other boy said, "You don't need to defend me, especially at the risk of making enemies of future Court Lords."
Noctis rolled his eyes. "What do I care for Court Lords?"
"You may need their support one day."
"Hardly. I'm a mere second prince."
"Any prince can become king."
"Ardyn will be king," Noctis said, as everyone in the kingdom believed.
"Ardyn has no love for anything accept blood. He would destroy any kingdom that foolishly placed him on the throne."
Noctis frowned. The adults worshiped his elder brother. Everyone remarked on how perfect the First Prince was: tall and strong, a magnificent fighter and strategist, and impeccably charming. Ardyn had never been thought of as small, petit, or delicate, as Noctis had. Yet somehow, those silver eyes saw strength within Noctis and bloodlust in Ardyn. He trusted his friend in all else, but he didn't want to believe his brother evil.
He was not so young and naïve to be oblivious to the significance of it. Ardyn was born to rule, he would accept no other on their father's throne. Even at the tender age of ten, Noctis was cognizant of the bloodshed that would occur if his father named him heir. If that ever happened, the people would revolt until his head bobbed in the water like a fisherman's tackle. In the end, it would never be worth it. To be king would mean the death of his father, and no power should be gained through the death of men.
Instead of continuing that line of thought, Noctis said, "How long does it take to peal a blooming apple?"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a cool slice of fruit was in it. It was sweet and crisp. The other boy's thumb brushed against his bottom lip, slowly wiping away the excess juice. Noctis looked into his eyes—silver and firm, yet not cold or ruthless like the adults said. They called him a beast, a curse upon the Goddess Uisce's kingdom, an animal. Ollphéist. Noctis only saw his friend and, his heart raced within its cage, perhaps…
"What is it?" the boy asked, tilting his head to the side. His blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight like the water below.
"Run away with me," Noctis blurted out.
His friend blinked once, twice, and then a smile spread across his lips. "M'anam…"
"We can go to Oileán!" Noctis said quickly. "I have heard the sailors talk of it. They say it is the home of the Ollphéist."
Cupping the back of Noctis's neck, the boy pulled him forward so that their foreheads rested upon each other's. "Oileán an Banríon Sneachta is an island of ice and snow, unaffected by the scorching winds of Tir yr Haul. Your warm Uiscian blood would freeze before the God's sun dipped beneath the Goddess's waters."
Noctis lowered his eyes. "I'm not that weak."
"Then prove it by staying here with me. You are m'anam and I am yours. I will follow you through the depths of Goddess Uisce's waters and into Bháirs's Realm of Corpses, but first let me serve my Rose Prince here, in his own kingdom, not some distant land."
Noctis sighed and moved to bury his face in his friend's chest. The boy's arms, more developed than a child's, but not yet as muscular as a man's, wrapped comfortingly around him.
"How can you not hate them?" Noctis asked, his voice muffled by the rough woolen work-shirt, which smelled of earth and roses and sea salt. "They call you such wretched things. How is it that you are never angry?"
"I do get angry sometimes, though not so much anymore. I've learned how to control it."
"How?"
"Breathing deeply for starters. If that doesn't work, I run as hard and as fast as I can until I feel nothing but exhaustion, and then I run to you."
Noctis lifted his head. "Me?"
The boy nodded. "Whenever it is too much, when you cannot control the feelings deep within, come to me. I am d'anam and you are mine. We balance each other out, two halves of a whole."
A soft knock roused Noctis from Codladh's arms. His eyes immediately went to the Ollphéist, still asleep, yet his body was now turned toward the prince. Such a strange memory for the Goddess Codladh to give him as a dream. He looked down at their interlocked hands. Why does this Ollphéist make him think of that long forgotten friend, who died so many years ago?
The knock sounded again.
Pulling his hand from the Ollphéist's, Noctis went to the door. Ignis stood grim faced on the other side.
"Yes?" Noctis asked.
"Are you yourself again, Your Highness?" Ignis asked.
Himself? If what Crowe said was true, then hadn't he always been himself? But his cousin wouldn't believe that, so he asked, "How do my eyes look?"
Ignis studied him for a moment, his cool gaze taking in every detail. After a time, he said, "Normal."
Noctis nodded. "Have the Court Lords begun to gather?"
"Only the most troublesome of the lot as summoned you. That is why I'm here."
"And the Haulian?"
"Returned to the others."
"Have Gladio transport them to the guest rooms and have guards posted at all times. I don't think they'll be hostile anymore, but I don't want anyone speaking with them. Iris is the only servant allowed to enter their rooms."
"And our noble guest?"
Noctis looked to the Ollphéist. 'Tomorrow you take your first steps toward king.' The Ollphéist's words rose up in his mind, strong and sure. Whether or not the statement was true would depend on the meeting with the Court Lords. They, more than anyone else, had always been firm supporters of his brother, who, even from the other side of the sea, continued to line their coffers. In turn, they had done nothing but hamper Noctis's every attempt at running the kingdom in his father and brother's absences. If it wasn't for Noctis's negotiations with the merchants and artisan guilds, the Court Lords and drought would have destroyed the kingdom.
Noctis looked to the window, where the rain continued to drizzle lightly upon the pane. At least the Ollphéist had somehow taken care of the drought.
"Noctis?"
His gaze returned to his cousin. His temper was in control and his skin no longer felt quite so abused. He was calm and he was ready. Noctis smiled.
"I am a prince of Ríocht na Uisce," Noctis said. "Second Prince, in fact. I see no reason to jump at the Court Lords' call. When I return I will send for them."
Ignis's eyes widened. "When you return?"
"Yes. With all this rain, I'm feeling rather spiritual. I think I shall ride to the Goddess's House and see how Her Children are fairing. You know how they hate getting wet. Care to join me?"
Just barely keeping his own grin in check, Ignis nodded. "What a splendid idea."