~Four Months Before~
I'm broken from my comfortable dreams as my phone vibrates against the wood of the bedside table. Opening my blurry eyes tiredly, I reach for the buzzing device and slide my thumb across the glowing green symbol on its screen without checking the number.
"Hello?" I mumble, careful not to wake the warmth curled up against my side.
"Rayne, where the #$% are you!?" I wince as my father's angry voice blasts through the speaker by my ear. Sighing, I sit up, the blankets wrapped around me tumbling onto the soft mattress. Wyn stirs in his sleep, frowning and clutching onto a pillow.
"Why's it matter?"
"Why does it…?!" There's an irritated huff from the other line. "Get down to your apartment now. We need to talk."
"What about?" I ask lazily, yawning and taking my time getting to my feet. The wooden floor feels cold and unwelcome to my feet, but I continue to gather my things all the same.
"What do you think?" A long, tense pause. "You're in his room, aren't you?"
"What the…?" I frown, pausing to glance back at Wyn.
"I'm only assuming," my dad explains dryly, having received his answer. "Get up here."
He hangs up abruptly, leaving me to roll my eyes and set my phone back onto the side table as I yank my jacket on. I settle in the black leather chair across the room to tug my boots on, tying them quickly and standing. Where did I put…? I huff as Wyn grins up at me innocently, my phone casting a soft glow on his face.
"Contrary to what appears to be popular belief, your birthday is not a secure password."
"Wyn," I scoff, reaching for the device. He rolls over, snatching it from my reach at the last second.
"You have an interesting Tumbling feed. I thought this site was for brooding teenagers, though."
"Wyn!" I protest, my face growing hot. I kneel behind him, reaching over his shoulder blindly to steal my phone back.
"Hang on," he replies calmly, turning his face to smile up at me cockily, waiting. I roll my eyes, pressing an annoyed kiss to his lips before demanding my phone back. Laughing, he hands it back, sitting up. "Who was that?"
"My dad," I mutter, shoving my phone into my pocket. "He wants me to go talk to him."
"Oh, Magnus Callen," Wyn sighs, pushing his fair hair out of his face. "Please hurry back, then. There's something I have to say as well."
"You can't just tell me now?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"That would keep you longer, now wouldn't it?" he replies smoothly. "Besides, I've got to call my sister, check up on her like a good big brother." I frown; there was something there that just wasn't Wyn.
"Don't wanna tick my dad off?" I raise an eyebrow, brushing off my feelings of dread. It can't be anything but my nerves. "He's not that scary." Wyn shakes his head.
"Good luck."
Standing, I take a deep breath and leave the room. As I reach for the handle of the front door, there's an odd, soft noise behind me. Frowning, I glance back over my shoulder. Another whir, but I see nothing. I shake my head, leaving the apartment. My brisk pace down the flight of concrete stairs takes me to my own home all too quickly. My hand barely brushes the cold metal of the door knob before the panel of black wood before me swings inward, my seething father glaring back at me. Blinking in stunned silence, I watch as he reaches forward and snatches my wrist from the air, dragging me inside.
By the time my brain catches up to the present, his firm green eyes are locked on my face, a deep-set scowl set on his tanned face. I roll my eyes, crossing my arms and ignoring Arma twiddling his pale thumbs in the background.
"You know, if you keep making that face, it'll stay that way forever," I mutter. He shakes his head, turning on his heel and motioning to my living room. "Yup, that's a couch," I say, raising an eyebrow.
"Sit down," he commands. Arma presses his lips together, watching me hesitantly sit on the black seat. My father sighs, pacing across the room and rubbing his face with both hands. "So you were with him."
"Pretty sure you already knew that," I reply dryly.
"Gods, where do I start?" he breathes, resting one hand on his hip and using the other to press a finger and a thumb into his temples.
"What?" I frown, my heart speeding up its steady pace as I look across both men's faces. "What's wrong?"
"I guess…" Arma starts, uneasy running his fingers through the curled mess on his head. "I mean, Dad left some important details out."
"You were told to inform her," my father glowers. I shake my head.
"Details on what?"
"Iterum," he huffs, crossing his arms tightly.
"What about him?" I scowl, already feeling the strong urge to get defensive for both our sakes. "I get it, guys. He's some dude from the imperials that's here to drag me away. What else needs to be said?"
"Plenty," Arma laughs, obviously anxious as he shifts on his feet. "And let's just say…"
"You're one hundred percent incorrect," my father finishes.
"Or… that," my brother nods.
"What are you talking about?" I demand, eyeing them both. The thumping in my chest hits the gas; I feel like a can't breathe because the butterflies in my stomach have multiplied and migrated north to my throat. My palms are sweating against my knees. Everything inside and out is pointing to bad, bad, bad.
"Care to explain the rest since the #$% king told you to handle it to begin with?" Magnus grits, glaring at his eldest child. Arma gives a nervous chuckle and then clears his throat, all color drained from his face.
"Right. So you and Wyn really hit it off, huh?" He settles next to me, leaning forward and digging his elbows into his thighs. "Which I guess is great and all, considering the original plan. You followed it better than we…"
"Get on with it already," I snap.
"That wasn't really the plan," he blurts. My heart freezes and falls, stone cold. But you… "That was what we, uh, wanted Wyn to think. And you, of course, at least at first so that your actions were authentic. But you never heard why he was really coming over." Sighing, he leans back in his seat, gaging my reaction with cautious forest green eyes. There's a distinct pity that forces a wave of nausea over my head, pulling under its heavy waves and ripping at me with its claws to drag me down to my long-awaited death.
"The war committee met and decided that we would have the empire bring forth one of their best soldiers," he continues. "Second to their highest commander is what I've heard. Anyway, the plan was to send him over with the belief that we were marrying off our best Insomnia-born soldier as a peace treaty that would give us our own land back and prevent further conflict for the time being. He would obviously bring a group of his own men for security purposes and such…"
Arma takes a deep breath, reverting his eyes back down to his lap. "But you know that. The part you haven't heard… We weren't bringing them here to make a peace treaty. Without him to protect the land they took from us, it's not guarded as well. Our own soldiers are on their own way to loosely surround the region at this very moment. As for Wyn and his troops… The army's cue to attack is after the first thirty minutes of a certain broadcast."
"Broadcast…?" I repeat. My heart's going at it again; at least I know I'm not dead.
"The live execution of Wyn and his troops."
"What?!" I spring to my feet, looking between he and my father, enraged. "What sort of dirty…!?"
"With the position the Crown City is in, we have limited choices," my father shakes his head. "If it means we get sneaky, then so be it. We can't let them walk all over us anymore than they already have. It's time Lucis got a head start."
"And Regis agreed to this?!" I demand.
"He didn't have much of a choice, if you look behind the scenes," Arma mutters.
"He's the king!"
"And sometimes that means he has to make charges that seem unfair to everyone else," my father says firmly, grasping my shoulders with his big hands. The tips of his strong fingers dig into my skin, leaving red imprints. "I'm not fighting with you over this. Either you're on the side of King Regis or you're not. Would you really betray your family and your king for the enemy, who you met hardly two weeks ago?"
"He's still a human being! You can't ask me that after I just…!"
"But I can. Answer the question, Rayne. Are you staying or are you a traitor?" I glare up at my father, trying to burn my resistance back into his, but it's no use. He overpowers me, just as he always has, and I find myself backing down. Is it really worth it? Do I leave Noctis and Ignis to themselves and betray Signum to a life of loneliness because I can't bring myself to obey King Regis's orders? Is that how I really want to go out?
"I'm… I'll do it." I mutter, dropping my eyes down to meet the rough fabric of his gray shirt.
"I'm grateful for that," he sighs, pulling me into a tight hug. It feels suffocating. I stand stiff, my arms pressed down at my sides. I can't make myself feel joy in either decision. "The broadcast is tomorrow at two."
"Tomorrow?!" I jerk away, "You're not even giving me time to…"
"The more time you have, the worse it gets," Arma sighs, standing and resting a hand on my shoulder gently. "I think… This is just one of those things where you just need to get it over with—before you think too much."
"Thanks for the advice," I huff, pulling free from his grasp and heading to the front door.
"Rayne," Magnus calls. I stop, rolling my eyes and waiting for a lecture. "Don't tell him anything, you hear me?"
"Uh huh."
"Hey, stop walking away," he scoffs, watching up to me and pulling me into another uncomfortable hug. "I'm proud of you. I know it was hard, especially since everything that's happened. I should've stopped it when I realized you didn't know." He sighs. "I'm sure your mother would be proud as well."
"She'd kick your #$," Arma laughs.
"That too."
"So, we're looking for the guy from the picture," Prompto sighs.
"Except like forty years older and gods-know-where in this massive city," I huff, crossing my arms.
"An estranged friend of the king," Ignis adds, following Noctis closely as we head down the cobblestone street.
"Noct, you ever meet him?" Prompto asks.
"Nope," the prince replies, shaking his head. He scans the crowd with a bit of trouble, seeing as he's not the tallest guy in the world. From what I can see, there's no bar nearby called "Maagho."
"Check this out," Gladio calls, waving toward a billboard along the seaside path. I elbow my way in front of him, reading the post aloud.
"'Even among the many fine dining establishments of Altissia, Maagho stands out. While offering a familiar menu of old favorites, the Lucian-born proprietor is not afraid to dabble with new flavors to...' Blah, blah, blah… 'Only accessible by gondola, the cozy café is popular with the locals.'" I turn back to the others. "So we need to find a gondola that'll take us to Weskham's."
Noctis nods, looking away from a small map to turn and lead the way down a narrower alleyway. Every towering building is fancy and white, nothing like the tall, black skyscrapers of the Crown City. It's charming, but definitely not somewhere I'd ever stay forever. We weave our way past crowds of people, making sure to stick close together. I step on the back of Noct's shoes countless times, Prompto constantly knocking into someone when we come to an abrupt stop. We're almost like a cute little herd of chocobo chicks that don't want to be separated.
"Y'know, you're startin' to get used to it," Prompto grins, skipping alongside us.
"Get used to what?" Noctis frowns, watching his blond friend dance around the emptier streets.
"Oh, you know, acting like one of the common folk. Blending in."
"Well, it's easier than being royalty," Noctis admits with a laugh.
"Too bad we can't exactly blend in too well," I point out, motioning to my Crownsguard attire.
"You brought more casual clothes for the trip," Ignis replies. "You can wear those for as long as we're here."
"Sounds good to me," Prompto laughs. "Hey! There's a gondola!"
"Ready to ride?" the cheerful man on board asks, smiling brightly.
"Uh, yeah," Noctis nods.
"Splendid! Where are we off to?"
"Maagho," the prince replies, crossing his arms. The man straightens his straw hat, motioning toward the long, thin boat.
"Hop aboard and we'll be off!"
We carefully climb in one at a time, Noctis and Prompto taking the green couch and Ignis taking the matching armchair. I sit on the pointed front of the boat, Gladio, sitting on the side edge. I'm surprised it doesn't flip with all that weight on one side. The gondolier takes off, steering the thin boat from the back to take us to a small, dimly lit island of a bar underneath a massive bridge. It only takes thirty seconds to cross the narrow waterway.
"It has been a pleasure," the gondolier says warmly as we step off.
"See ya!" Prompto waves, smiling.
"Welcome to Accordo, lads," an incredibly deep voice says, catching our attention immediately. "Cid mentioned you'd be dropping in." A tall man stands behind the bar, grinning widely at us. "Weskham Armaugh, as you've gathered. My word, you've grown, little Prince." Weskham smiles at Noctis as we step up the counter, settling on wooden stools in front of him. "Ah, but of course. You were only a babe at the time."
"Based on the government's actions, it would seem Accordo is supportive of the Oracle," Ignis muses.
"So, this is your maiden visit. Enjoying it so far?" Weskham asks, crossing his arms. "You doubtless have many questions, so ask away." Prompto leans over to squeal in my ear.
"Dude, he's got a monocle!" he hisses.
"Classy man," I whisper back.
"This country isn't part of the empire, is it?" Noctis asks. Weskham reaches up to tug at his graying beard, shaking his head with a deep laugh.
"You're wary, I understand. But there's no need to jump at every shadow," he explains. "Just be aware that the terms of our independence grants the empire free reign to come and go as they please."
"We'll bear that in mind," Ignis nods.
"It's actually a one-sided arrangement. Most everything we do requires Niflheim's permission," he sighs, his long, braided hair piling over his shoulder. "They wouldn't knowingly permit the Oracle to appear before the public. How our government spun that is quite a mystery."
"So you see lots of Niffs around here?" I ask, leaning forward against the counter and resting my chin on my forearms.
"We do," he nods. "Sometimes even at my place. Theirs is a familiar presence is a familiar one, and the citizens don't think much of it." He sighs. "Though, the high commander did cause a stir when he showed up the other day."
"Ravus…" Noctis mutters. Weskham nods.
"So soon after they felled the Archaean in Lucis, his arrival fuels rumors that they will next come to Altissia." He shakes his head, pushing his hands against his hips. "The empire's not content ruling all the land- they want the heavens as well." He picks up a glass and a cloth, wiping away at the cup. Suddenly, he looks up and at me, smiling. "Well I'll be #$%^*, you're Rayne Callen, aren't you?"
"Uh, yeah," I frown. It's not every day I'm recognized by some deep-voiced bartender in a completely unknown land.
"I knew your father," he chuckles. "Great man, he was. Heard the bad news about a month and a half ago. Sorry to hear it. How're the brothers?"
"Uh… Fine," I reply, waiting for Noctis to pick up the conversation on a more comfortable topic. He does so almost immediately.
"You really think Luna will make an address?" he asks, catching the bartender's attention.
"If every recent radio broadcast is to be trusted, absolutely," the older man nods confidently.
"Where is Lady Lunafreya?" Ignis more demands than asks. Gladio frowns, but doesn't bother arguing with the advisor over his tone.
"In the city somewhere," Weskham responds calmly. "But no one has caught so much as a glimpse of her. The media has been conspicuous in its silence on the matter, which speaks volumes of the government intervention. That'd certainly explain the rumors of disgruntled imperial officers leaving the city."
"Is anything changed with Leviathan?" the prince asks, crossing his arms.
"For now it's business as usual at the port, but word is that the government will soon open the Altar of the Tidemother."
"In preparation for the rite," Gladio finishes.
"Ah, but on the other hand, they're scrambling to stockpile emergency provisions," Weskham counters. "This begs the question: if they're anticipating that the Hydraean will wreak havoc, why would they allow the rite to proceed?" There's a moment of silence before he smiles, continuing to clean the glass in his hands. "Well, if you need anything else, you know where to find me."
"Thanks, 'preciate it," Noctis nods. We stand, ready to move on, when Weskham turns suddenly, his smile broadening.
"My dear Camelia, it's been a while," he greets.
"I heard about your distinguished guests," a woman replies. She rounds the corner, dressed in jade-green clothes from head to toe. Her white hair is brushed neatly over to the side, her old face as stern and authoritative as her voice.
"Ah, you've an ear for gossip," Weskham chuckles. The woman turns to face us, bony arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"Gentlemen, I won't waste your time. My name is Camelia Claustra."
"First secretary of the Accordo Protectorate," Ignis finishes, straitening.
"You should know we have Lady Lunafreya in our care," she continues. "And the empire demands we surrender her."
"What?" Noctis demands, staring at the woman with disbelief. I sigh. We just got here, and already everything is going wrong thanks to the empire.
"Yet I am loath to acquiesce unless we stand profit. Hence I have come to discuss terms… with the King of Lucis." She lifts her sharp chin proudly. "If you've a mind to talk, come to my estate." With that, she turns on her heel and walks away.
"And here I thought Leviathan was the snake," I mutter, crossing my arms.
"She can be oblique at the best of times, but I assure you her heart is in the right place," Weskham replies. "At any rate, you must be weary from your journey. Might I suggest you seek your beds for now and ponder matters anew in the morning?"
"Yeah, think we'll do just that," Noctis nods. We head back to the waiting gondolier.
"Where're we headed, my friends?" he asks warmly.
"Takes us as close to the Leville as you can," Noctis instructs, climbing in.
The sun's sinking lower toward the horizon by the time we reach the Leville, my exhaustion washing over me like the waves that lap at the side of the gondola. We climb off the gondola, ignore its driver's cheerful goodbyes. This model is much… fancier than the one in Lestallum. The outside is lined with red carpets and white tables, ribbons and fancy lettering strewn across the outside of the building. Once inside, we're greeted by two men behind the counter, receiving raised eyebrows from all the pristine guests in the lobby. One man eyes our bloodied and ripped clothes cautiously before approaching us.
"We have a discount on rooms at the moment," he says flatly, straightening his black bowtie. "Two hundred and fifty gil per room per night."
"Now that we can do," Prompto grins, elbowing Ignis.
"I brought yer stuff over from the boat," Cid calls, stepping into the lobby. He looks just as out of place as the rest of us with his grease-stained jeans and his wrinkled old t-shirt. An eager gondolier follows him closely, holding two of our backpacks. Cid has the other three. "Thought you might need it."
"Are you staying here tonight?" Prompto asks.
"Nah," Cid shakes his head. "I've gotta keep an eye on that boat of y'all's. Can't have it gettin' stolen now, now can I?"
"Thanks," Noctis nods, watching us take our things away from the two men. I take the prince's bag with a sigh since he obviously isn't moving to take it himself.
"Have a good night," I call to Cid, earning an all-too-excited wave from the gondolier instead. Crinkling my nose, I turn back to Ignis. "So?"
"I got us two rooms," Ignis replies, leading the way up the stairs. "It's a luxury I supposed we could afford since we're here."
"Yes!" Prompto cheers, fist pumping. "Soft beds, Noct!"
"Yeah," Noct laughs, accepting a key from Ignis and letting himself get dragged away by the blond. Ignis sighs, turning back to the two of us.
"The three of us, then."
"Someone's sharing a bed," Gladio laughs, shoving me. I roll my eyes.
"If you two weren't such giants, I'd ask why it's me," I mutter, following Ignis to our room next door to the others'.
"I say Iggy gets his own bed," Gladio says, tossing his bag on the wide bed closest to the door. I throw Noct's bag at his locked door before following Ignis in, closing the door behind me. "He's taken the couch at least three times since we took off." Catching my raised eyebrow, he rolls his amber eyes good-naturedly. "No, this has nothing to do with us."
"I'd ask about what happened last night," Ignis cuts in smugly, flashing a wry smile. "But I've involuntarily received all possible details from Prompto. I won't pry."
"Oh come on," I scoff. "You guys make it sound like something really dirty was taking place. It's like living with a bunch of middle schoolers."
"Everything but arguing between the two of you is considered anything but clean," Ignis replies. Gladio huffs, rubbing his face as he falls backward onto the mattress. "But nevermind that. I'm sure Prompto and Noct are getting hungry, and I'd rather not leave the hotel in the odd hours of night."
"You guys going out to eat?" I ask, impressed by Iggy's generosity this evening.
"We've finally made it to Altissia," the advisor replies, reading my thoughts easily. "Are you not going?"
"I'm more interested in exploring some more than eating, to be honest," I shrug. "We've still got quite a way to go, y'know? I'd rather get the sightseeing out of my system." I'm lying of course; if I'm honest, I want to spend a few hours alone in the dark to brood about the future.
"So you are impressed by the city," Gladio accuses, intertwining his fingers behind his head.
"It's no Insomnia, that's for sure," I laugh, glancing at Ignis. I walk closer to the room's window, looking down at the well-lit streets. "There's too much white here."
"Light and dark," the advisor chuckles, shaking his head. "I suppose we see it each time the empire and Lucis collide."
"Yeah," I breathe, watching the people walk down the smooth streets. We also wind up caught in a big, bloody mess.
"Gladio, are you coming?" Ignis asks, heading for the door.
"Nah," the king's shield shakes his head, nodding toward me. "I've gotta make sure we don't lose this one to the light side."
"Whatever," I scoff, rolling my eyes and keeping my face practically pressed to the glass. "You can go if you want." Please go.
The door opens, closing a few seconds later. I don't bother to look back, instead choosing to observe the citizens of Altissia. They're not oblivious; they're distracting themselves with all their attractions and cheerful gondoliers. Locking themselves away from the world as they've done for decades. Now, the fight's invaded their city and they have no choice but to depend on Camelia to defend their homes and their families. I'm broken from my thoughts when something hits my back hard, making me jump.
"Get changed," Gladio grumbles. I frown at him as he steps into the bathroom and closes the door. "We're sightseeing."
"That's not how you ask a girl on a date," I call irritably, opening the backpack he threw at me and pulling out a pair of jeans I brought along in case we needed to blend in. They're not ideal for fighting, otherwise I'd have worn them sooner. Throwing on a plain black shirt, I shove my bloodstained clothes into my bag like a guilty murderer on the run and plant my butt on Iggy's bed.
"Not a date," he replies minutes later, stepping out of the bathroom in clean clothing. He throws his dirty laundry on the floor beside his bag and shoves his feet into his boots, looking over at me as he laces them up. "Just didn't want to stay in here any longer."
"Do you really hate hotels that much?" I tease, raising an eyebrow. He nods, standing and scratching at his beard. Frowning, he glances at the mirror across the room.
"Gotta trim it soon," he mutters under his breath, motioning for me to follow him to the door. He throws a leather jacket on over his black tank top and leads the way out of the hotel. "Where're we headed?"
"I dunno," I huff, crossing my arms. If my jacket wasn't shredded, I'd have brought it. Fall is coming fast for Accordo. "I saw some stairs leading up back there," I suggest, motioning toward the street between the Leville and some closed business to the right.
"Through the alleyway it is," he grumbles, looking back to see if I'm following him when he heads toward said alleyway.
"I'm not gonna attack you," I laugh, catching him eyeing me warily for the third time in one minute.
"Get up here," he scoffs, catching my wrist and pulling me up to his side. "I never know what to expect from you," he mutters, chuckling to himself. "One night you're stabbing me with your elbows and the next you're all cuddly and innocent."
"So tonight's a stabbing night?" I tease, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not prepared but it can certainly be arranged." I could probably stab him for dragging me out of the room to explore with him instead letting me be alone. He rolls his eyes, muttering an apology after knocking against a woman as we ascend a tall, white staircase.
"Depends on how the cycle's going," he shrugs. "Sometimes you throw in a 'Sure, I'll casually make out with you on a boat because I'm scared of leaving my baby brother alone in this cruel world.'" The stairs level out into a new street above the buzzing city below.
"Oh whatever," I huff, shoving him playfully. He loses his balance for a moment, knocking into someone and sending them sprawling onto the ground. The hooded figure scrambles to their feet, backing away from us. I frown, unable to see their features through underneath their hood.
"Hey, you okay?" Gladio asks with a frown. They look between the two of us before turning on their heels and sprinting away down the stairs we just left. "Weird."
"Yeah," I breathe, looking at their back one last time before turning around and continuing forward. It takes a few long strides to catch up to Gladio, and even then, I have to hook a finger through one of the beltloops on his khaki cargo pants and tug to get him to slow a bit. "Got something in your sights, big guy?"
"Not really," he grumbles, eyeing the flashing signs of bars and clubs centered around a tall marble fountains. "Looks like we're in Adultville." He laughs to himself, glancing down at me with a taunting grin. "Wanna go get hammered?"
"Yeah, I'm sure Iggy would love that," I retort, starting up another set of stairs and suppressing a shiver. "Up we go."
"You cold?"
"Eh." I look back at him, grinning. "Don't turn this into some cheesy chick flick, Gladio."
"Wasn't planning on it," he chuckles, following me up to the next level of the city. This one's much smaller, much simpler. In most cities, it feels like the richer, upper class citizens rule the top of the world while the poor shrivel away in the slums. Here, the lower class resides at the top, the richer folk providing a solid base for them to build their homes upon. There's a false sense of unity swallowing it all, just like the empire itself.
"This is better," I sigh, leaning onto the railing of a balcony that overlooks the city. I rest my chin in my palm, scanning over the sparking gold lights of the city, a stark contrast to the black night sky. The light glitters off the surface of the waterways that trace through the streets, dancing over the ripples effortlessly. Free. It's hard to see the lines that make up each building, pillar, and bridge. Harder to see the lines drawn between reality and the imagined. I like it that way. "Still nothing like home, though."
"Don't think anything else can be," Gladio huffs, looking over the skyline. I nod, stealing a glance at the light cast across his face from the distant street lamps. I'd expected it, almost begged it, to be eerie, cold. Instead, it's a warm, pleasant glow than traces soft lines around the profile of his rugged features. I sigh, turning my gaze back to Altissia. It's gonna be another long, long while before we head home, isn't it?