24 June, 756:

(A month and a week after)

Luna was dead.

At the time, she hadn't felt it. When she had heard Ravus say the words, she had still been numb with adrenaline and fear for her brother and Ignis, but in the hours that followed when everything grew quiet, she felt it.

One more failure to add to their resume. One more death in their wake. One more member of their family, gone.

In spite of the years time and space that had stretched between them, Luna had been family. She was the sister that Reina never had, the guiding light that led Noctis down his path, and she was everything Reina had always wanted to be.

And now she was gone, before any of them had really gotten to see her again.

The ache Reina felt was nothing compared to the pain at her father's death—it was something more like dark resignation—and she knew it was nothing to what Noctis would feel when he found out.

Noctis.

He had yet to wake. He would. But not today. She felt assured of that. Not in the blind, childish way that she had felt assured he would awake when they were eight and that daemon had cut him nearly in two, but with certain knowledge. She knew it without knowing why. Her brother would wake. Physically, he would be fine… but when he learned of Luna he would wish he hadn't woken at all.

She knew because she had felt the same, a month ago.

After that, she couldn't say what would happen.

Gladiolus, Prompto, and her had all emerged relatively unscathed. The people of Accordo, as well. The same could not be said of Altissia, but already repairs were underway. And, in spite of the First Secretary's insistence that they be on their own after the ritual, she had offered them succor once the Empire withdrew. It was just as well. They weren't going anywhere with Noctis as he was.

And Ignis…

Ignis was another matter altogether.

"You put on the ring, didn't you?"

Ignis blinked unseeing eyes up at the ceiling. His hands dragged over the surface of the bed he lay on, as if trying to discern where he was. Perhaps she shouldn't have sprung such a question on him as soon as he woke, but it had been eating at her for hours. As long as he slept she wondered.

Eventually Gladio and Prompto had fallen asleep. They were all worn to the bone after an exceedingly long day, but Reina knew she wouldn't be able to sleep.

"Yes," Ignis responded at length. His hands went to his face, touching the bandage that rested across his eyes tenderly.

Her stomach squirmed, but she didn't ask the question she really wanted the answer to. Instead she shifted to sit on the edge of his bed and resettled his blankets, answering his unspoken question. "We're still in Altissia. The First Secretary has taken us in, but perhaps only because Weskham asked nicely."

In turn, Ignis answered the question she hadn't asked. Somehow he knew.

"I didn't see him, Reina," Ignis caught her hand and turned his head toward her, like a reflex even though he couldn't see. "Nor did I hear him. I'm sorry."

She didn't say anything because she knew if she opened her mouth only a sob would come out. A tear escaped down her cheek, anyway, though she kept her jaw clamped shut. The only response she could give him was to squeeze his hand. Foolishly she had thought—hoped—but no matter… it had been stupid, anyway.

Eventually Ignis fell asleep once more. Her questions answered—unsatisfactory as she found the conclusion—Reina wandered. Her feet took her to Noctis' room, where her twin slumbered still. The ring sat on his bedside table, waiting for him to wake—just like the rest of them. She turned away from it and dropped onto his bed, feeling homesick for the warm embrace of the Regalia. The closest she could get, now, was here with her brother. Perhaps it would allow her enough solace to sleep.

"Ignis?"

It was evening, almost exactly one day later. When she had left his room less than an hour previously, he had been asleep; when she returned his bed was empty.

"Everything is… darkness."

His voice drew her eyes to the other side of the room. He stood by the window with his fingers pressed against the glass; it must have been the only way he could tell he was standing by the window at all.

Reina's heart ached for him. If only there was something she could do. But she couldn't. She couldn't heal his eyes, she couldn't give him back what he had lost, she couldn't return light and color to his world. All she could do was stand beside him, laying her hand lightly on his elbow so he knew where she was.

"I'll never read again," he said, not turning toward her.

Her mind summoned up countless memories of Ignis reading; everything he could lay his hands on he would read. It was something they had in common, growing up. She tried to imagine a world without literature. Somehow, it was easier than imagining a world in which Ignis never read.

She pressed her hand over his, drawing his fingers away from the window.

"Then I'll read to you."

"The princess reading for the royal advisor. Highly unusual," he commented. It was more bitter than wry, though she suspected he had given sarcasm an attempt.

"Given the state of our kingdom, I'm sure Lucis won't collapse over that peculiarity."

It might collapse due to any other number of troubles, but not that one.

Ignis turned his face toward her; he hazarded a smile and it came out hesitant, but not wholly unhappy. She was pleased to see it.

"Perhaps not."

There was a knock at the door, though it was standing open. Ignis released her hand, as if burned; Reina gave him a curious glance, but turned to look at Gladio and Prompto standing in the door instead of dwelling on it.

"Hey. How you feeling, Iggy?" Gladio asked.

"Well enough," Ignis managed, sounding more at ease than Reina knew he felt.

"We're gonna go get some grub. You two wanna come?"

"Yes, thank you; I believe food would be good," Reina said. She glanced at Ignis and for a moment she saw then tension in his jaw. It faded nearly before she registered, like he had forced himself to relax.

"Yes, of course. I will be right along. Go on ahead."

Seeing Gladio and Prompto hesitate and guessing that Ignis wanted them gone, Reina said, "I'll walk with him."

Ignis didn't object. Gladio and Prompto seemed to accept this, and went on ahead. Once they were gone, she touched his arm lightly.

"Ignis?"

"I appreciate their concern for me, but I cannot help but wonder how much is concern for what I won't be able to do in the future."

"I guarantee Prompto hasn't thought that far ahead," Reina said, threading her arm with his and guiding him carefully toward the door. Gladio was a different matter altogether. It was possible that he was thinking about that, underneath the concern. In all that had happened, she hadn't taken a moment to speak with Gladio; there was still some unvoiced tension between them after her harsh words and his lack of confidence in her. Given their past history of not speaking about things, she suspected it would just hover over them until the passage of time made the emotions less sharp.

"Are you concerned about what you won't be able to do in the future?" Reina asked, instead of guessing at Gladio's thoughts. It seemed far more relevant what Ignis was thinking.

He was silent. She didn't push, simply waited. They walked slowly, Ignis still growing accustomed to walking without knowledge of where he was going—even with her guiding him it must have been uncomfortable—and Reina couldn't help but be reminded of walking alongside her father while his knee troubled him.

"How can I protect Noctis if I cannot see him?" That bitter tone was back. He kept it all closed up inside like he didn't want the others to see it. So why could he show it to her?

"Ignis. We both know that you do much more than that. Your purpose is not limited to your ability to fight for my brother."

Ignis shook his head, vehement. "Without sight, I will not even be able to protect myself. I will become a liability—a danger to the others."

Reina stopped walking. She stepped in front of him, reaching up to put her hands on either side of his face, though she knew he couldn't see her expression. There was a fire in her stomach. It wasn't anger; not at Ignis, leastways, but it was fierce and staunch. She couldn't feel frustrated with him for his self-doubt; she had been in much the same position for a month and he had never once told her to pick herself up and get over it, as if it was some sort of choice. No, what she felt was a burning desire to put everything right. However she could. Single-handedly, if necessary.

"Then I will do that, as well," Reina said in a tone that allowed no argument.

Surprise was a peculiar expression on a face with closed eyes.

"Your Highness—"

"No one is going to leave you behind, Ignis. I don't need you to believe in yourself, right now; I just need you to hold on tight and listen when I tell you that I know you can do this. It looks impossible right now, but we will find a way. I don't believe you'll never fight again. I don't believe you'll never read again. I don't believe you'll never cook again. But it's not going to be easy and you are going to have to relearn everything you already knew how to do. So until then, everything that you cannot do—everything you struggle with as you learn—I will do for you." He couldn't see her face, so she put into her voice everything she felt; the unrestrained passion and undaunted belief, the unwavering trust and that hotly protective feeling in her stomach.

"I will be your sight."

...I will be your strength.

...I will be your blade.

Reina shut her eyes, her own words echoing in her ears. He reminded her so much of her father, today. Was that why she felt as she did?

Ignis' hands settled on her forearms. "I cannot let myself become an imposition. If I fall behind—"

...I fear I have become an encumbrance to you…

"If you fall behind then I will move more slowly," Reina retorted firmly, not giving him the opportunity to finish his objection. "Do not ask me to go on without you because that I cannot do. Not ever again."

There was surprise on his face again, but this time it was followed by resignation… or was it understanding?

"No, Your Highness."

"Good," Reina said. That settled everything, so far as she was concerned. They would make it through. This time she wouldn't fail.