Chapter Eleven: Consummo
Vanity. It is vanity. Life was vanity. Everything in life was vanity. No matter how good intentioned and no matter the accomplishments, it did not change that fact. It was all vanity. He feels this as acutely as he can feel the weight he carries in his arms. Oh how he wishes he could weep. Weep for the loss her and all that she had begun to represent to him. What she represents now is all the failure he has ever had to face. She was now the reminder of how tainted his very existence was. She had meant so much to him alive and now, in death, she meant everything.
It is said that a fatally wounded animal will seek shelter within its home. It is a natural instinct to want to go to a place you feel safest when you feel like the world is ending. His world was more than ending. No, it was shattering as crystal shatters around him when he teleports directly into the place he has always come to. It does not take any thought. It was not even a conscious effort on his part. He would go where he always went when he could not sleep, when he could not face, when he could not stand it any longer. Funny, that he could now do unconsciously, what he could not do while concentrating before. It's the first time he's been able to teleport someone with him and its fitting that it should be her.
With Stella in his arms, he stands just before his throne as he looks up at the moon. He sees the light flash more brilliantly than he has ever seen it and he knows. He knows instinctively that it is her light. She who could have brightened his world, would lighten his night.
I could fall in love with you. I think I may have already started.
There had been no words to explain the extent of his bafflement at those words. He was many things but lovable had never been one of them. Who knew that you could love someone when you had known them so short a period of time? That someone who was still a stranger could make you feel such strong emotions. That you could feel so complete with someone so quickly. It had been irrational. It had been hasty. It had been wonderful. Now, it was gone.
Stella, what have you done? he asks looking down at her peaceful face and his arms clench around her convulsively. I know now. I know what you must have always known. That I wanted your love. That I wanted your revenge. But you wanted my redemption. You wanted to be my salvation. Oh, what a warped romance we have. But, I think you knew that too.
He clears his mind and his eyes to try to hear the whispers, but they are silent. He even calls to those voices but they do not answer him. It is a silence that he does not think he has ever heard before.
Abandoned, when he needed them the most.
I will make this right. I swear I shall make this right, he vows as he stares angrily at the light above.
Too fast. Too fast. It was happening too fast and he needed to catch up. His mind is positively reeling. Perhaps, it had been selfishness on his part to want to sacrifice himself so quickly. It might have also been a little bit of cowardice. To leave all the burdens behind, to leave it within the hands of someone else, but it had fit. It would have been a fitting ending to his tragic life. To have it stolen from him, to have Stella take it from him because she believed in him. That she had faith in him. That even in her revenge, she had wanted him to live. It was not to end this way. It was not meant to be lived this way.
This was a curse. This that was his very existence. It was a curse. It was a taint to the very existence of this planet. It was he. He was a disease that did nothing more than ruin all that was good. To ruin all that was pure. He was that. As proved by the woman in his arms. He had done this to her. He had killed her in every sense of the word. He had killed her the moment he had stepped foot upon those stairs. He should have know. He should have been stronger. He should have been smarter. He should have been so many things. So many other things except this curse.
Just how many times could I break until I absolutely shattered?
So distracted is he by his thoughts, he does not hear the cocking of a gun, but he does hear the sound when it goes off. He does feel the bullet as it slams into his back and pierces through his flesh. He does not however, let go of Stella. He does not even have to turn around because he knows. He knows who stands behind him and he does realize that this, this was how it was going to be. That at least in this, he may have a sense of satisfaction.
"Careless. Foolhardy. Arrogant," says the strong voice behind him. "I spent my entire life in the service of a family that did not deserve the power that was bestowed upon it. If anyone deserved the satisfaction of ridding Nihil of your line, it should be me!"
Ignoring the immense pain in his back and the breathe that cannot come fast enough, he kneels down and carefully places Stella at the top of the steps. Lays her like the willing sacrifice that is she upon a mock altar.
I will make this right, he reassures her as he brushes her hair gently away from her face and straightens to his full height. His insignia flairs before he can even fully turn around to face the man he has mistrusted all his life.
His right eye flashes red as he returns the glare directed at him. The smoke from the barrel still seems to linger as it remains fixed upon him. He would have shaken his head if he had not been so distracted.
Another common thing is said. Never, ever underestimate a wounded animal.
There is no restraint and there is no remorse. There is the sound of many blades being unsheathed and then there is the sound of impact. What is left is Aenigma standing before him, pierced by all his weapons.
"You forget," he says darkly. "I am already dead."
He sees the anger and he sees the hate and he's never seen a more genuine expression upon the man's face. Aenigma chokes on his own blood and falls backwards and his blades disappear before his body hits the marble floor. Even that is over too quickly. A lifetime of paranoia ends in a few seconds. It is also vanity. Vanity as everything else is vanity in his life. Over too quickly and over too fast, to be enjoyed.
His sigh exhales any strength he might have had remaining and he collapses onto the floor. The pain is absolutely searing and his blood drips upon the floor below him. He watches it drop and he's temporarily fascinated by the sight. Until he remembers. He remembers and he looks up and sees her lying there. She is lying there and he can almost fool himself into thinking that she is not dead. For it does not look as if she is dead. Looking at her, he can almost believe that she is merely sleeping. Merely waiting for him to wake her up. Wake her up to what? This waking nightmare that was his life?But would life be a nightmare if she were by his side?
"One day the nightmares will cease. I will chase them away if I have to."
Raising his arm to reach out for her, there's a crinkling sound of the leather he wears and that is when he senses it. There is another presence within the room. Another presence and he feels the hairs in the back of his head begin to rise. He hears the cawing sounds of a crow as it flies above him and he knows what is to come. What he has been waiting for all along.
"My poor Noctis," comes the voice. The voice that could have sounded melodic if had not known the person. The voice that seemed to mock him with just its sound. The voice that he has hated all his life. "Look what has become of you."
He does not answer because he knows how she must see him. He's lying on the floor, in a pool of his own blood and he's reaching for someone that can no longer reach back. Such a pathetic sight to be seen and he knows he must not give up this way.
"Will you not even speak to me, dear one?"
He sneers at the endearment. Since when had he ever been dear to her? Since when had there been any affection between them? There is no way he will accept any sort of retribution while lying pathetically upon the floor. So, fueling all his hate and all his remaining strength, he hauls himself up to stand and glare at her.
All this time. All these years and she looks exactly the same. She's just as beautiful and just as hideous as he remembers her to be. That fake eerie brightness that surrounds her remains. That imitation of motherly affection. It repels him even more now than it had when he had first seen her. There was no part of him that craved her embrace this time. Then he sees, he sees her missing arm and knows a little bit of justice.
"If you are here to get an apology from me, there will be none forthcoming."
She could do what she is known to do. She could torment him. She could kill him several times over. She could do whatever she wished and he would never, ever apologize for the things he has done against her since that day.
"Why do you hate me so, Noctis?" she asks curiously.
Her lack of anger gives him more pause than the sight of her before him does. He feels even more angered by her ignorance.
"I never asked to be chosen. I never asked for your favor," he hisses angrily. "You who took what was dearest to me. You who doomed me to a life of blackness and hate and you who has now taken the one person who could have made me want to live."
She does not even blink at his accusations, nor does she look at all sorry for it either. All she seemed to know was her own distress. "I was so very angry with you for rejecting me so," she laments to herself. "Cutting off my arm and then to push me away."
He frowns at her. Was so very angry, not still so very angry.
"It was not exactly you who trapped me so do not bother yourself with that," she says dismissively. "I suppose it served me right to try and meddle." She brings her face closer to peer deeply into his face. Her eyes stare into his and he feels as if she's burrowed into his very soul. "I am nothing if not selfish when it comes to increasing my collection. I think you know that more than most," she says. "Everyone hates death anyway. It is natural I suppose," she says with a shrug and withdraws.
"Who trapped you then?"
She almost looks fearful but she smiles too. "Everyone has a master. Everyone has a head," she sing songs. "But I am not here to talk of such things with you."
"Then what are you doing here?" he asks.
She actually giggles and he's never felt as perplexed as he does right now. Watching her, was to witness what true insanity was.
She arches an eyebrow at the look that must be on his face. "I have come to make amends," she says with finality and she leans in close to him again. "Tell me Noctis, if you had one wish. Just one wish, what would it be?"
"To have Stella live," he says without pause.
She frowns at him. She obviously had not expected him to say that. "Why? Why not your own life?"
"My life would only prolong the war. As I live, the crystal shall live and that would only promote the heretical government that has arisen. Stella alive would also appease the people's thirst for revenge."
"Killing off one of my faithful was not the most endearing thing you could have done. Serves you right that it was her father," she says but she is not upset, she's merely inconvenienced. "But why not ask for peace then? A wish for a different government."
"Stella would do that. With her alive, it would bring hope to her people and she could overthrow the hypocrisy here."
"You have so much faith in one that hates you so much?"
"If she hates me then she has reason," he states. Stella had every reason to hate him.
"Am I to understand that you do not wish that any government should have such an advantage as the crystals?"
"If such power is granted, it should be shared. Not horded away at the pleasure of only one nation."
"So the prize, if it were a wish, that is what you would use it for? Not for you own life?"
"Not my life," he says firmly.
"You are so peculiar in the way that you think," she says but it sounds like she's talking to herself moreso than him. "But I suppose that explains why your rune is a crane and your color is blue."
He had often wondered why his insignia flashed blue instead of red. Red was vengeance. Red was passion and he feels so much of both. Blue was supposed to calming. Blue was supposed to be mellow. He was neither. Blue was just not his color. It was the same with his insignia itself. He had never considered himself to be any sort of manifestation of it. The crane was honor and loyalty. He did not feel that accurately described him.
"Blue means truth," she says as if she's reading his mind. He thins that she probably can. "And you have both honor and loyalty as the crane does."
Though she does not say it as if it is a complement, he considers it too high praise.
"I also think you are afraid."
He jumps at her words, making a startled sound.
She smiles secretly at him. "Yes, you are, are you not my dear Noctis? You are afraid to live life and so you have accepted your death with ease. It sounds a bit selfish, do not you think so?"
He cannot answer her because what she says is true. He is afraid. Not of death but of life. He's afraid to live.
"What are you more afraid of? To live with Stella or to die without her?"
He does not answer her but he does not need to because she can see it clearly on his face.
"Come now," she says holding out her hand to him and he realizes it's from the arm that he had severed so long ago. "Don't act so surprised. I can heal it whenever I wish."
"Then why have you waited this long?"
"Gods do not have to answer every question," she says. When he does not reach for her hand, she grabs it herself.
As soon as her hand touches his leather clad one, the pain is gone. Gone like it had been the first time he had seen her. Not just his physical pain, but there is a lightness where he had felt so heavy before. His chest did not ache as it once had and his heart does not feel as broken.
"Power should not be exclusive to one kingdom, you say," she says as he stares at her. "I knew all along that you were special, Noctis. I suppose I was just selfish and wanted you all to myself but I knew then as I know for certain now. That you are destined for great things."
He frowns at that.
"Stella shall live," she says with a wave of her hand and he does not understand why he does not feel joyous at the proclamation.
He turns to look upon her body and finds it missing. It's irrational but he cannot stop the feeling of panic that arises in him. "Where? What did you do with her?" He does not understand why it feels like he's lost her all over again. It was as if just the sight of her body was an assurance in and of itself and now that it was gone, he could not take the loneliness. He wonders, wonders if his answer really had been easy. Had he secretly been afraid to die without her afterall?
"She is where she belongs," says Etro, vaguely. "Focus now, because I will not repeat myself."
He nods. He's ready for whatever justice she wants to execute upon him.
"Six crystals were awarded to men, yet through tyranny and selfishness, they had become imperfect, tarnished and then died," she says. "Ten shall replace them and ten will fulfill that which they had not been able to complete. Ten to be divided and ten to be received throughout the corners of this planet."
Six and ten. The numbers on the symbol. The numbers that surrounded the kanji of the crow of the Mysterium. Six was the past and ten was the future.
"It is up to you now," she says with a smile.
"How?" he asked skeptically. He did not like where this was going.
"The world starts anew, my beloved boy," she says and it does not even seem to bother her that he cringes at the endearment. "And I feel that I owe you this. The world starts anew and you have been chosen. You and Stella have been chosen to be the leaders who will bring this generation out of the darkness."
"I was not meant for the light," he says and she should know that.
She tilts her head to the side as she regards him. "Stubborn too. I suppose that shall change in time."
He merely frowns at her in response.
"It was not I who has chosen you, so do not look at me that way," she says with a frown of her own. "I am the one that is not good. You have always been what you have perceived yourself to be. That shall change."
"Why are you doing this? I know this is not your usual way of things." Her way of things was to trick, to cheat and to deprive. It was never to provide.
"You are too right about that," she says and she looks appalled at herself. "But as I have said, all of us have those that are above us and I have mine."
"You would rob me of death too? After you have robbed me of everything else?"
"I never took your friends did I?" she asks slyly.
"And you think that is graciousness on your part?" he spits out.
"Yes," she says with a smile. "This is why I love you, Noctis. You are the only one who could ever be brave enough to say such things to me and yet you know not to threaten me either."
She was mad as a hatter.
"You will live, as Stella will live."
"I do not want..."
"What you do is up to you," she says interrupting his objections. "Nothing is guaranteed."
"I do not..."
"This is your gift. You the last user of the crystal. Take advantage of it. Embrace the calling that you have been given," she says and her voice and her presence seem to blur and vanish quickly before his eyes. "Life is a stage and you are all merely players."
"Wait! I still have questions. Wait!" he shouts because he feels robbed. He's being robbed of any explanations on many of the other things. Other things that he never understood and had been forced to except. For once, he reaches out to grab hold of her rapidly vanishing figure. The scenery around him is changing but he can only focus on where she had been standing.
There are noises but he does not quite make them out.
"Woah! Noct, how the...?" he hears Des say behind him.
"Noct?" two other shocked voices say.
He drops his hand and blinks, twice to look about his surroundings.
His army is before him. The Tenebrae army is further away. They are all just outside the city limits and they are not fighting. Their weapons are drawn but not at the ready. They are all lying on the ground. The soldiers of the Tenebrae looked as if they had already begun to retreat. It does not look as if his appearance had caused them to do it either. At least, not this time. Something did not seem quite right. He could not put his finger on it. It felt like something was missing.
"Your Majesty," he hears behind him and he turns around.
"Major," he says in response and he turns to look upon his friends.
Just seeing them makes him feel better and he is sure the relief is written clearly upon his face. They, though, all look at him in surprise. They had expected him not to return and here he was, standing before them. They must have a lot of questions but he knows what they're asking now. He nods, just once and he knows it's enough. They relax but there is an underlying tension in their frames. He looks at Miles again.
"What is going on here?" he asks. He turns around and faces the army again. There's a sense of deja vu as he stares at all the men that have seen him appear out of thin air. They do not look as surprised as his friends did and he finds that curious.
"Princess Stella," answers Miles hesitantly and he can feel his ears perk up. "She just appeared and has ordered that her army stand down."
"They thought you had killed her," explains Sapien. "They were just turning back when you appeared."
He knows he has to apologize to them but the relief in their faces right now tell him that all is forgotten already.
"Where is she?" he asks, looking at each of his friends' faces.
"She left," says Vires. "She said there was much to be done."
He nods. There was much to be done and he knew she would do what she must. That rationalization does not stop the pang that he feels within his chest that he had not been given a chance to see her. It is irrational that he feel this way, he knew. This was what he had wanted. He had wanted her to be alive. He had wanted this for her, but he had not given thought to being alive too. Now that he was, he wanted to be with her and it feels as if that part of him that she filled was missing all over again. Could he do this without her as she could without him?
That is not what he should be thinking about right now. It was not the time to be overcome with this. He had done what he thought would make it right and he would find contentment in that. Everything else, he could regret later. So he turns back to his men. He still does not quite understand why something does not seem right as he looks at his army before him. The air around him was filled with anxiety.
"What are you not telling me?" he asks them.
"She wasn't what stopped the fighting though," says Des.
"Then what did?" he asks.
"Weirdest thing ever!" cries Des throwing his arms out.
"We all heard something that sounded like a pop or a pulse. A kind of boom. Then everything... everything just stopped working," explains Sapien but it's clear that he does not really understand either.
"What do you mean stopped working?"
"They stopped as if the energy had been zapped from them," says Vires.
"When you say everything, what do you mean?"
"We mean everything. None of our weapons worked. None of our comms worked. Nothing. Everything just stopped dead within its tracks," says Miles.
"Then we looked back at the city and..." says Des.
"What?" he asks and he turns to look at Nihilsomno. "I, I do not believe it." His voice is a whisper of disbelief.
The entire city was black. Black with lack of energy, lack of... crystal energy. The black buildings were almost invisible in the dark night. Now that he has noticed, that was what was missing. The lack of sound. The sound of pulsing energy that had always surrounded him. The silence that has replaced it was almost deafening.
The world starts anew.
"I guess this is what they meant by starting over," says Sapien as he shows him the blank screen of his handheld.
"Not just our side, but the Tenebrae side stopped too?"
"Yes," says Sapien. "Everything that had it's origins with crystal energy has stopped."
"Noct, does that mean...?" asks Vires looking at him hesitantly.
Does that mean that he does not have his powers any longer? He tilts his head in question and is nearly blown backwards with the activation of his insignia. The men all around him do not fair as well and are knocked completely backwards and onto their backs from the impact. Blue light flashes more brilliantly than he has ever seen it and he wonders what he looks like. He can feel the power flowing through his veins and feels it rippling from his fingertips. His hands reach up to his face and he can feel the pulse of the crystal energy within him. It bubbles within his blood and he's never felt this much power within himself before.
"Holy..." says Des, sitting up on the ground. He looks torn between staring at him and the city behind him.
"What is it?" he asks looking behind him.
There are gasps as everyone stares back at Nihilsomno and sees the entire city lit up more intensely than they have ever seen. Every light is on, in every building, on every street. A few bulbs burst from the sheer amount of power flowing through the lines and he can hear it again. He can hear the pulsing sounds of energy that had filled the silence.
Then he feels something else. The ground beneath him shakes and he can feel it. He can feel the activation of another rune and he knows. He knows that it's Stella. Her powers have returned and her crystal is alive. She is close. His head snaps up to try and search for her. His eyes scan the backs of the Tenebrae army but cannot see her. He does not have time to look for very long when he feels it again. Another rune has been activated, but this time its further away.
"It has started," he says breathlessly as he feels yet another activate.
The other users of the crystals are realizing they have been chosen. New dynasties were already beginning to form in other countries all around their world. He can feel it. He can feel the other crystals and he can sense their energy. He can feel the power pulsing in the ground beneath him and knows, there is much work to be done.
The sky is beginning to change now. He can see the beginnings of orange streaks break through the blackness of the sky. The darkness is surrendering to the light as the sun begins to dawn. The twilight hour is over. The blackness has lost the battle against light. It is a new day. A new day to dawn a new era. A new era that he would be a part of. A new era with endless possibilities that he had never fathomed before. It was a brand new horizon, signaling an end. An end to the blackness that his life had been. The stage was being reset.
Was this how it was to be? Was it truly this? That life was a truly stage and they merely players? It seemed so fitting that it should be such. It all started with Noctum as the prologue. He had been the darkness. Then he had met the light. He had met Stella. He had, had his brothers. There had been expositus. The exposure of himself and the intentions of others. There had been the extraneus. All the things that had seemed to be so strange. There had been fugio. The escape from, not only his own emotional prison, his physical prison. There had been adamo. He had fallen in love, despite all his efforts. There had been coalesce. The growth that they had experienced together, no matter how confusing that had been. There had been mysterium. The mystery that had been uncovered. There had been reluctor. The struggle against himself, against Stella, against the council. Then now, was it consummo? Was this the completion of the play that was his life?
He wonders if that is really so, but it does not seem quite right. Perhaps, in a sense, it was consummo. This was the completion of the first Act of his life. Now, now it was time to start the second Act and maybe, maybe after this was all over, he would feel it was truly complete.
A/N: Epilogue to follow...