Everything is dark. Pitch black, bitter, cold darkness. I'm no longer shackled; I move freely even though I can't see where I'm going. I hold my hand out in front of me, picking up the pace just the slightest bit. One moment the floor is solid and rough, and the next, it's a knee-deep puddle of what I'm hoping is water. I pause, taking a second to take a deep breath and calm my nerves before walking further.
I'm not afraid of the dark, never have been. However, stumbling around blindly in rapidly deepening waters doesn't sound like the most enticing idea that's ever crossed my mind. I continue wading in hopes that the ground will elevate and my path will be straight once again. The sounds of water swishing and dripping around me are the only sounds I hear; I don't want to know if something else can hear them too.
I nearly fall over on my face when the hard floor underneath me starts to go up, leading me out of the water and into a drier walkway. I sigh, reaching toward the walls and fumbling around for anything that might help me see better. As if this is only a stage set for me, the puppet, there's a switch underneath my fingers. I don't hesitate to flip it on. A row of dim lights flickers on, revealing the smooth gray walls of a corridor. Turning back, I stoop down to look at the water. Just water. Huh. Curious, I reach down a hand and brush it across the cool surface of the water.
I hardly have time to pull my hand back before pale, cold fingers wrap around my wrist and drag me back down into waves much deeper than I remember. Water floods through my mouth, pouring down my throat to fill my lungs. I fight back against an iron grip to no avail, unable to hear my own cries for help in the sea of air bubbles rising rapidly around me.
There's another sharp tug and suddenly I'm thrown to dry land. Gasping for air and choking on the water lurching from my throat, I fall on all three limbs I have left. The room is pitch black, illuminated only by a bright white light shining in from overhead. There's a clink of metal; startled, I sit up straight and look around quickly. Nothing.
My heart hammers violently against my ribcage, threatening to break through bone and tension alike. There's another clink, and I look to the right, where I think the sound is coming from. Another. It's definitely coming from above. My eyes burn as they turn up to the light overhead, watering and squinting to see past the blinding beams. Suddenly, something snaps and all around me black splotches fall. With a sharp cry of surprise, I duck. The chains holding the objects catch, leaving them dangling around me. I take a deep breath before peering over my arm.
A strangled gasp wrestles out of my throat as I'm met face to face with the dangling, dead-eyed body of my father. Gagging and choking on the scent of rotting flesh, I stumble to my feet and turn to run somewhere else, only to collide with the swinging corpse of Gladio strung up by his neck. My breaths grow into pants muffled through my fingers as I look around wildly for an exit. All I see is the empty eyes of Prompto, the bloody figure of Wyn, and the bruised, scarred, shredded face of Ignis.
I jump when another light clicks on. Beneath its dust-ridden beam glints a familiar black throne. On its seat slouches the limp body of Noctis, pinned to the seat with the Oracle's trident through his chest. I brush past Cor's corpse with a violent shudder, staring at Noctis with wide eyes as my heart sinks in my chest. Never have I truly failed Noct. Never. Until...
As if I triggered a trap, a chain snaps tightly around my ankles and pulls me upward sharply. My head spins, aching and burning after being scraped against the rough floor that was once beneath my feet. Struggling, I try to wriggle my hands free of the cold metal links that have wound their way around my body and tightened far too much.
There's a slow movement, and when my chain spins toward the throne once more, I'm met with the limping figure of Noctis dragging himself toward me, dripping trident in hand. A menacing smile curls on his blue lips and a bitter vengeance burns in his bloodshot eyes.
"Noct?" Nothing. Absolutely no response to his name. No response to his surroundings. His eyes only grace my own, and they're horrifying. I can't move against the chains; I can't breathe. "Noct, please answer me. What's going on?" He pauses in his steps, looking me over with a twisted smile before raising Lunafreya's staff and looking over it with a resonating satisfaction. "Noctis, what..."
"Goodnight, little girl," he grins, looking back toward me and launching the trident into my throat.
Even if someone had been there to save me, they couldn't have heard me around the javelin buried in my esophagus.
I wake up choking on air. The room is pitch black, lit only by the dim red glow of the automated door at the end of a hall of open cell doors. The panel Prompto entered through is sealed as tightly as the metal bonds holding me against my will; there's no hope of breaking through either. I sigh, trying to ignore the throbbing pains in my head and my ribs, wincing when the burn on my cheek stings against the freezing air of the room. My joints ache terribly and my muscles are incredibly sore. And yet, my amulet remains untouched and I'm still very much alive. That's more than I could ever ask for.
The feeling of dread that washes over me as the door's lights turn green and raises up nearly overwhelms me. I force myself to keep up a straight face as Ardyn paces toward me steadily, the door sliding shut and locking behind him. He opens the door to my cell and steps inside, upkeeping his sly smile easily.
"Good morning, Miss Callen," he says smoothly, giving a slight bow and lifting his worn black fedora off his head. I roll my eyes, raising an eyebrow impatiently. "I assume you know why I'm here."
"For the amulet."
"Perhaps," he cocks his head to the side. "But perhaps there is more I wish to present. You see, I gave some thought to the subject of your mother and thought that I might share with you the information your father never would."
"Why bother?" I huff, though I have to admit that my curiosity's starting to get the best of me. Just what can Ardyn tell me about my mother that my father couldn't? She was just some woman that died giving birth and she just happened to have some schnazzy golden powers. Why does it matter now?
"Because you lack a certain appreciation for your belongings," he replies, motioning toward the amulet. "What you feel is merely greed for what's been labeled as yours." Huffing, watching him cock his head to the side and smirk. "Shall we begin?" He turns and heads to the right, dragging a metal chair I hadn't seen before over and sitting in front of me, legs crossed loosely. "Mara Amans was her true name—that much I'm sure you knew." He continues telling his tale, keeping up his façade. However, as the longer he goes, I begin to see more cold bitterness and anger raging in his eyes.
"Thousands of years ago there was a savior chosen by the gods to save the people of Eos from the Starscourge—you know what that is, don't you?" I merely stare back at him stubbornly; he smirks. "Of course you do. It's time for a history lesson, then. This savior was sent to heal and protect those people, and in order to save them, he absorbed the dark powers of the daemons and the darkness itself. He bore the name of Lucis." His eyes go dark, his narrowed gaze directed toward the smooth floor. "Then the gods decided their chosen savior was no longer pure; he had been tainted by the very Starscourge he saved Eos from.
"A jealous relative usurped the throne and took for himself the name of Lucis Caelum. The gods poured their blessings out upon he and his descendants, and because they cursed the savior, they chose several speakers named Oracles that would pass down the healing power of the gods to new generations. They were the only light that could prevent the world from being overcome in darkness."
"I already knew most of that," I frown, watching as he looks up at me, fixing his soured expression with a smug smile.
"I needed to set up my tale. Patience, Miss Callen." He straightens, watching me as he continues. "The savior, before he was tossed aside, fell in love with the fairest woman available to him in his kingdom. Her name was Mara Amans and she was a most devoted lover—until the power of the gods got to her head as well." He leans forward, fingers wrapping around the shin crossed over his knee. "The gods not only tossed aside their Chosen One; they cursed him to a walk of darkness and immortality. Mara remained at his side faithfully as he was ostracized from his own stolen kingdom and removed from all society.
"And then the gods sent her a vision." I frown, watching as he gives a half-hearted shrug. How does he know all this? "You beloved mother was the very first of hundreds of healers to come, though their power was certainly lesser. Her powers were the very definition of light and purity—they were built to oppose the very savior the gods turned their backs on. She, too, was immortal under two conditions: one, once she helped the Chosen king defeat the savior, she would wither away and age as a common mortal. Two, if she somehow lost her power, she would lose her life. And just like that... she turned on him." He eyes me for a moment. "I see now where you get your irritating, corrupted sense of purpose."
"Thanks," I scoff.
"You're very welcome," he smiles, leaning back in his seat. "Continuing on, she and the savior continued to battle for centuries. Their powers clashed over and over again in the darkest recesses of the world. Eventually, she realized that her approach would never work, and in one sly moment, locked away the powers he acquired from his Lucian blood. That was the moment she was satisfied to settle down with her new love, the legendary Magnus Callen of Insomnia."
His voice, having been more of a snarl for the past few minutes, reverts back to his usual sneer. "But she had not escaped without injury, mainly to her unborn child. That is why, Rayne, your dearest Arma could hardly see or hear at all. He was corrupted by darkness even in the womb. But, as per usual with these things, a portion of her powers were passed down to her eldest son.
"Hardly over a year later, she gave life to another child. A dear, precious daughter by the name of Rayne. This child was gifted not only with her powers, but with the amulet the Callen family passed down for centuries containing the blood of the Lucian kings that ruled after the savior's fall. Sound familiar?" He tilts his head mockingly, watching me stare at him coldly as he speaks. "This is the best part, in my opinion. As the firstborn functional child of Mara Amans, you were given a blessing by the gods marked only by the color of your eyes—the blessed color of royalty. And you thought it was genetic." He chuckles bitterly. "The gods deemed you worthy at a young age and you were given the same mark as your mother—subtle, but a mark all the same.
"Her final child was your cowardly young brother, Signum. She breathed her last as she gave the last of her remaining power to him. She had hoped initially that three could defeat the savior better than one could. However, it seems that we're down to one once more."
"Signum's fine," I snarl, glowering at him. I wouldn't put it past him to try and deceive me again. It's expected at this point.
"Believe what you wish," he shrugs. "Your dear father refused to let his children know of such things. He believed it to be ridiculous that his wife would kill herself for the sake of her children and a destiny he didn't intend for them to fulfill. I do hope you noticed the sharp decrease in his use of magic after her passing."
"The amulet's power melts into its user's being the longer they wear it," I fire back. "He preferred a sword over a spell. What's that have to do with anything?"
"You really are a disappointment," he laughs lowly, standing so abruptly that his chair clatters to the ground behind him. "He feared magic. You see, without your mother's immortality or godly blessings, the power alone could easily kill a mortal who dared use it. This is how Arma passed, according to Signum at least, hm?" He steps forward, hooking a finger under my chin and forcing me to look up into his taunting face. "But you, Rayne. You were yet another chosen to replace the original and you had no idea. To think of all the wasted potential, caused by your father alone."
"The tomb..." I tear my eyes away from his, frowning.
"Ah yes, the golden light." How long was he following us?! "Merely a setup by your mother. She was not buried there, but desired to have a representation of her placed next to her closest king of Lucis. So it was. The wind was for show; what you earned was the power to resist the death such selfless powers would inflict. You may use them freely without falling as your brother did; to an extent, of course."
"Why are you telling me all this?" I huff, watching him grin and release my face from his grip.
"My dear, I already told you. You deserved to know the significance of a woman on whose grave your father dared to dance, and to know of the power you have within you to protect Noctis in his endeavors to save Eos."
"And what does the amulet have to do with any of this?"
"With the blood of Lucian kings, one could unlock the magic the gods bestow upon them. Is it not obvious that this is what I desire?"
"It only gives that to those born from either my family of the king's," I roll my eyes. "So what could you possibly want from it?"
"You'd be surprised," he chuckles, staring down at the smooth surface of the amulet. "I'll leave it for you to discover. For now, I'll ask nicely once more: would you please hand it over?"
"No," I scowl. He wipes the nasty glare off my face with the sharp strike of his fist.
"Normally I wouldn't stoop so low as to hit a woman," he snarls, though his tantalizing smile never disappears. "But I believe things work differently when you're a child of the gods."
"I'm not...!"
"Hand it over, Rayne."
"No." Another hit against the side of my face, leaving my head spinning. I straighten up and keep a stubborn front.
"What would it take?" he asks, raising an eyebrow and flicking his long hair out of his face. "Your prince is wandering here in search of Prompto alone; your best friends are merely pursuing him; the boy only wishes to see Noct once more. Where does that leave you, I wonder?"
"They're keeping their focus on the goal," I fire back, lifting my chin. I can already feel that cursed adrenaline pumping through my veins, suffocating me. "I'm thankful for that."
"And who will save you when...?"
"I don't need them!" My shout of protest is nearly a scream of frustration, a shriek to scare off the rat pawing through the dusty boxes and bottles stuffed away in the back of my mind. Boxes and bottles labeled as emotions and anxieties and grief. My heart's going wild inside a chest that's so tight with rage and frustration and hatred that I can't breathe, even as I gasp for air. His smile broadens, an eyebrow quirking.
"Oh? You plan to rescue yourself then?" He steps closer once more, tracing a finger along the side of my face. It's all I can manage not to whip my head around and bite as hard as I can like an angry child. "I'm afraid it's time we face the facts, Rayne. They don't need you. You and the lack of weight you pull... Can you not see the burden you present to them?"
He shrugs indifferently. "I suppose the extra companionship was nice for the ride, but now, when we're truly down to the end, do you honestly believe that they need the extra set of useless hands? It's not as though you were able to save Ignis or Lady Lunafreya, as is your duty... And if you can't complete the mission you were bred for, what exactly are you doing a crew of saviors?" He jerks my face up once more. "Answer me that, Amans," he growls.
Shaking my head, I can't bring myself to fight against him. Noct... he really does hate me for betraying Insomnia, I know that much. I couldn't save Ignis and now he's blind. He won't ever see the scars marring his face or his king's success or Prompto's photos ever again. Gladio was right from the beginning... No, I can't let him get to me. It's manipulation; that's all. Then why does it feel so blatantly true? Seeing his success, Ardyn presses further.
"If you father thought you would succeed, would he have kept such immense secrets? And your beloved King Regis. You don't think he wanted Insomnia's grand traitor out of his sights?" His eyes grow darker. "Just as the savior, you served your heroic usefulness. At one point, you were worshipped by the public with the rest of them. That time has passed and I'm afraid that now you're doomed to suffer just as I have." He hangs his head, chuckling darkly and moving his hand to rest it on my shoulder.
"It's only a matter of time before they fully turn their backs and the gods cast you from your rightful place. It's nothing you've done wrong; the world has its ways. However..."
He lifts his face to reveal that the whites of his eyes have gone pitch black, lightened only by the golden pupils that reside the in the middle. His skin has grayed and black streaks run down his face. And yet, I can't bring it upon myself to be disgusted or horrified or whatever I should feel. I'm only intrigued, sucked into that golden stare by what I mark as pure curiosity. "As two souls who feel the painful brunt of rejection over and over again... I dare say we could accomplish the gods' will together."
"To... gether...?" I blink at the man before me blankly, watching a dark, reddish mist rise up around him, black tendrils that match the streaks across Ardyn's face reaching up and wrapping their cooling grasp around me gently. No, what am I... Ardyn's expression is dark and disturbing as he focuses those golden eyes on me earnestly. But he's right...
All the times during these past few weeks where Noctis has blown up, Ignis has snapped, Gladio's scowled, and Prompto's completely avoided me... He's right. They've given up on obligations, antics, and ultimately, friendship. All those moments between me and Gladio... They were meaningless. An insatiable need for closer companionship. Ardyn's right. But when was he ever wrong? He reaches up and unlocks the shackle around my wrist, freeing my arm.
"Together we could conquer all suffering. Noct will take his place within the Crystal, rest assured. Your superficial duties will be cared for. Many hands make light work, but too many create it, no?" He smiles, resting his other hand on my other shoulder. "Together we share the burden of the darkness, and together, we gain redemption. But first... The only thing standing in the way is this precious symbol of holiness." He reaches his hands around the silver chain of the cursed stone hanging around my neck, toying with the links thoughtfully. "If you'll only let me take the yoke from your shoulders..."
"Take it," I nod, closing my eyes and waiting in anticipation.
To be free of expectations, turmoil, guilt... It's all I've ever needed. Traitor? I don't know what you mean. They're the ones that tossed me to the side to struggle alone. The chain raises over my head, the weight of the silver and blue lifting away from my chest. In the same way, I feel as though I've been set free from a burden upon my shoulders. I'm finally free.
When I open my eyes again, Ardyn holds the amulet in his grayed hands, yellow eyes scanning over the stone greedily and black lips splitting into a devilish grin. As he steps back, the dark tendrils of daemonic power that once wrapped themselves around me retract. With them leaves the hazy feeling in my head.
I shake my head, frowning and taking a deep breath. And then realization dawns on me and I reach forward to snatch the amulet away. I barely manage to catch the stone as he tugs back, snarling like a wild animal.
Instead of playing his game of tug-of-war, I clench my teeth and force my tired body to absorb the remaining elemental powers residing inside the amulet, doing away with them for good. Without the blood of Lucis, they can't be stored in my body. They merely vanish, which is exactly what I want. Ardyn only grins, his face reverting back to normal as he pulls the blue gem free from my grasp and holds it up to the dimmest beams of light, chuckling to himself.
"I do believe you've done Eos a great service, Miss Callen. Not only have you handed over the very piece required for salvation, you've made my work much easier by removing that barrier of your filthy magic." With that, he tucks the amulet away into his pocket and lifts Prompto's gun with a sneer. "I'll wake you when I require your services again."
"You're not going to stop Noctis," I glower, raising my arm and slamming my wrist back into open metal band over my head. Like a hunter's trap, it snaps shut around my arm securely.
"No, that's not on the agenda... for now, anyway," Ardyn murmurs, cocking his head to the side. "Good night, Rayne."
There's a sharply echoed bang of the gun, an explosive pain between my eyes, and then I'm dragged back into the dark recesses of unconsciousness once more.
