January - March, 760:

It was without any particular surprise that Reina noted the dwindling ranks of volunteers to accompany her on missions outside of Lestallum. The excuses, muttered while she was still in earshot, had to do with her being able to take care of herself. She knew better.

Her known association with Ardyn unsettled everyone who recognized what he was—even if they didn't understand the full extent of his identity. The fact that he had shown up in Lestallum in person, walking straight out of the night without even a light didn't help matters. But that was what she had wanted, wasn't it? To not be perceived as one of them—not just the Glaives, but everyone. Better they stay away. Better they believe her deviant because sooner or later she would have to do something that would make them wonder. And if they trusted her it would make them doubt. And if they doubted it would make them lose hope.

No, it was better not to be liked.

The growing blatancy of her patchwork scars was beginning to make her look that much less human. That wasn't the only consequence of her frequent use of the ring's magic. The scars she had expected. But—though she had thought at first it was only her imagination playing tricks on her in the bathroom mirror—her eyes were growing paler. She never saw her own face while she channeled the crystal, but Iris said her eyes glowed with blue-white light. Now it seemed they were bleached with it.

Just one more thing to set her apart. She wasn't one of them, anyway.

Now and then, however, came a time when she couldn't do without more hands, and Iris and Ignis alone would not suffice. The car trips were awkward. She elected to take a separate vehicle so that, if nothing else, the Glaives could have that time without her. She never did find out if they appreciated it. Probably they thought what she meant them to: that she did it for herself.

Cauthess Depot needed repairs. Old warehouses only survived for so long under the constant barrage of daemons, and their people couldn't handle defenses and repairs. Some might have managed one or the other—there were, as with everywhere else, hunters in Cauthess—but it was a stretch. Simpler—better—to bring in the Glaive. Or the ring.

Or both, as the case was, since no amount of arcana would allow her to control three hundred sixty degrees around a barricaded warehouse that was big enough for the entire population of Cauthess—such as it was. She could manage one side—two, perhaps, if she stood at a corner—but she needed the Glaives for the others. So here they were, taking places as far away from her as they were able, while still appearing to be following orders. Reina let them. Iris and Ignis, at least, remained beside her.

Clearing the perimeter was the first step. Easy enough. As of yet, the daemons were scarce. A few lingered here and there, picking at the weak points in the walls right up until bolt of lightning sent them flying.

But activity seemed to attract them. The trickled from the darkness, as if intrigued by the sounds and flashing lights.

"That's what I'm talking about." Iris drew her katana. "I was beginning to worry this was going to be boring."

"Be sure to save some," said Ignis. "You would not wish to appear selfish, would you?"

"Tell that to Rei."

Reina said nothing. The daemons were coming—in much larger waves than this sporadic flow. Why did she know that? She hadn't Dreamed this fight—not yet. It was more like… she could feel them, not unlike the way she could feel the Glaives through their bond to the crystal. But that made no sense.

Ignis' hand brushed her back. She caught his hand and threw and fire into an approaching knot of daemons. They scattered, squealing. For the moment, she pushed the strange sensation of connection from her mind; she dove into the fray with Ignis at her side.

She Dreamed and woke. She saw in every direction without having turned her head once. She pulled Ignis away from swiping talons and twisted in an arc, mirroring him, to cut down those closing in on them. On… him? They usually pressed in evenly. Tonight was different. Tonight was wrong. Even as the daemons multiplied, they formed asymmetrically around her and Ignis—weighted toward his side. She was forced to keep turning to put them to the blade.

"Something is amiss?" Even without seeing, Ignis knew it. Maybe he heard the difference. Maybe he registered what the changes in her movement meant. Maybe he just noticed the added tension in her body.

Regardless, she had nothing to tell him. Nothing that made sense, anyway.

"They are… only seeking you."

But no. That wasn't quite right, either. Iris was attracting a sizable crowd, cutting her way through with methodical precision. Off to the left, the Glaives were also handling the oncoming daemons without incident.

"Let go, for a moment," Reina said. "Stay on your guard."

Ignis did so without question, freeing his off hand and taking a defensive stance as he backed toward the wall. The daemons followed him—as was expected. They followed anyone who was out in the dark. Except… they moved past her to do so.

She walked forward one step, then another, away from the lights of Cauthess and into the darkness—the realm of the daemons as they laid claim to all of Eos. Not a single one struck at her. Not when she walked toward them, not when she dropped her naginata, not when she stood directly in their flow—unarmed and unaccompanied by her allies. They flowed around her, some pausing or circling, but ultimately moving on.

Why—?

Reina drew her naginata and ran one through. She twisted her blade in its abdomen, then pulled it free, watching the beast dissolve into miasma. The others backed away from her, making a wider berth in their path toward the Depot.

What the hell…?

She turned her back on them, facing the lights and exposing all of her weaknesses. Nothing happened.

"Rei, what the hell are you doing?!" Iris, catching sight of her as she stood fifty feet out into the flood of daemons, stopped holding her ground and started cutting a line toward Reina.

Reina held up a hand to stop her. The daemons still weren't attacking her. Because she could feel them? Or because…?

Just like with the Glaives, she could feel strands connecting her to each daemon. These strings felt sharper in her mind. Red fire, not blue fire—more like Ardyn's magic than that of the Lucii. And yet, if she tugged at them…

The daemons around her stilled. They stopped advancing on the Depot, stopped reaching for Iris, stopped slashing at Ignis. Farther out, more still moved; she had grabbed a handful of strands, but nowhere near all of them.

Iris stopped moving as well. She was staring at Reina. As well she should have been.

In for a gil…

She reached out farther, grasping all the red strings she could find and bundling them up. All of the daemons—at least every one that she could see—froze. On the edge of her vision a few more streaks of lightning blazed, a few more blades flashed, and then the Glaives grew still as well.

"Reina…?" Ignis' voice called through the unnatural silence as daemonic gibbering faded alongside the sounds of combat.

"I am here, Ignis."

At least, she thought she was.

Then again, she had also thought that she couldn't control daemons, so where did that leave them?

Her, at least, it left standing in the middle of a frozen horde. And if she twisted the strings just so

All of them turned, drawn by some invisible line. They hesitated only a moment before they moved toward her: scampering and slinking, lumbering and flapping. Those Glaives that Reina could see backed away, putting their shoulders against the wall. She couldn't see those on the other side, but she could feel them just like she could feel the daemons. They were doing much the same. Those she could see shot each other glances before sidling as far away from her as they were able.

"Reina…" Iris' voice quivered, like she was trying not to back away, as well, but it was a struggle.

Iris glanced to either side, flinching away from the daemons that passed her, but none of them struck out at her. They were all focused wholly on reaching Reina. When they did, they swarmed around her—a mass of claws and teeth and wings. The chattering had resumed. They clicked and screeched in wordless sounds, and in her ears it sounded not like the cries of some beast restrained… but like the excited clamoring of a people standing before their god.

That was what they did when Ardyn walked through their midst.

Except Ardyn was the Starscourge incarnate. He was their god. He was what happened when a Caelum—with all the magic that accompanied the name—fell to the taint of the scourge.

Was that happening to her?

She didn't have the scourge, she told herself.

But would she have known? She could see it in other people. If it was early enough she could even burn it away with the light of the ring. But that was only when it was visible—she didn't have some extra sense that told her when a person was tainted. Looking at Ardyn, she couldn't tell… not without her prior knowledge.

Iris had reached her. She still held her katana and watched the daemons warily, and she could only move so close as the daemons piled in around Reina, but she didn't cut them down.

"Reina. If you want their trust, don't let them see this—whatever the hell it is." Iris glanced back toward the Depot, where every visible Glaive was staring at her in the center of a maelstrom of daemons. Horror was the only thing they could feel, witnessing this. Horror and revulsion.

It was what Reina felt.

But amidst all of that came a single, rebellious thought:

She didn't want their trust.

She could control the daemons. She could feel them; she could command them. Maybe it meant she was tainted. Maybe it meant she was becoming Ardyn—or something like him. Whatever the reason, it was one more tool. And she would use whatever she had to see her people safely through this night to the dawn—hang their trust; hang their respect; hang their perfect picture of a bright, shining queen in a white dress with the sun rising behind her. The world had turned on them. To make it through, they needed someone willing to turn on the world.

Perhaps Iris saw hesitation on her face. Perhaps she just knew. Either way, she shoved through the mass of daemons, disgust showing clear on her face as she kicked, cut, and pried her way to Reina. She grabbed Reina's shoulders and shook her firmly.

"Look. I don't know why you're okay with people disliking you—or fearing you. I don't know why you're encouraging it. I know you're not going to tell me, but you need to listen to me when I tell you that you do need to hold onto the Glaive. You can't protect Lucis by yourself. I know you don't want to be queen, but you need to be. So pull yourself together."

Reina blinked up at Iris. Four years had changed her; four years had changed everyone.

"I know."

"Then stop this. Or get these things out of here. I don't care which."

Reina took the red strands and twisted them together. A collective squeal ran through the daemons as she pressed down on them.

Go. Go back where you came from. Leave these humans alone.

It shouldn't have worked. It was crazy and ridiculous and everything else that went along. But, then again, she shouldn't have been able to feel them in the first place.

It worked.

They fled, surging out and away from her. In their wake they left silence and emptiness—and a thick tension as all the Glaives stared at her. Maybe from a standpoint of trust and respect, she should have just released them and allowed the Glaives to continue fighting them. That was a waste, though.

It seemed she didn't need the Glaives along to protect Cauthess Depot, after all.

"Send them back to Lestallum," Reina said.

"If you send them away all of that fear and distrust is going to fester and spread." Iris kept her back to the Depot, hardly moving her lips when she spoke.

They could remain here for the duration, watch as Reina held back the daemons without lifting a finger and probably come out on the other side even more unnerved—all the while wasting time—or they could go back, tell everyone what they had seen, and actually do something useful in the meantime. The others would find out later, one way or another. It was just a matter of when.

"Send them back."

Iris met her gaze mutely for a moment, mouth twisting. Then she turned and went to deliver the orders. She hardly—if ever—argued once Reina had made a decision; she made her views known and then forced herself to stand by whatever judgement Reina ultimately cast. It was a relief, after spending all day being pestered and questioned by Cor and the others. Why did she bother to stay, at all?

Ignis was still waiting near the wall. He didn't ask what had happened, when she finally joined him, but it wasn't because he didn't want to know. Then again, he always put together more than she expected. Maybe he had already guessed.

Iris returned when all the Glaives were gone. The daemons were still out of sight; Reina could feel them, still, waiting just beyond, as if held back by some invisible bubble. She had expected them to struggle, to try to break free of her control or something. But they didn't. That was almost more unnerving than the rest. Almost.

One good thing did come from the unpleasant surprise; while everyone else was busy tiptoeing around the catoblepas in the room, the workmen from the Cauthess Depot completed the repairs on their wall. The daemons would come back as soon as she was gone, Reina knew, but that was rather the point of the wall. It would hold. For now.

"Drive." Reina climbed into the car behind Ignis and shut the door.

"Lestallum?" Iris turned the key in the ignition.

"Insomnia. I need answers."