AN: Hey everyone, sorry for the delay. I'm sort of moving across the country so things have been a bit crazy. Hopefully that will get sorted out in the near future.

Crea moved back into the Citadel. Over the next few days, Reina's prediction held and Regis was free to give his strength back to the Wall bit by bit at his leisure. It was a comfort to know borrowing from it was an option, provided that they could confirm the Wall would not be needed within the immediate future. If Reina could learn greater control of her Dreams… well, a great many things would improve then. But he could not guarantee it would ever happen.

As it stood, she still spoke of being pulled into the Dream, as if some external entity was in control of her visions. Regis had assumed that the Astrals had no notion of the power she held, but her descriptions made him doubt. Perhaps her foresight was a gift from the Gods to make up for that which they had taken from her. Perhaps it had always been their will that she would foresee the fall of Tenebrae and prevent it.

All was mere speculation; he still had yet to hear back from the Lucii. Time passed differently in their realm and, following their last discussion, Regis had no desire to seek them out again. He had already gone against the will of the Astrals and the warning of his forefathers by granting Reina his magic. That would not lightly be overlooked. In time, word would be passed down to him, condemning his actions.

He prepared himself for that as best he could. Precisely what the Astrals would do once they learned he had disobeyed their wishes was anyone's guess. No one had ever done what he was doing. He had one sliver of comfort, however: all that he relied on them for had been granted through covenant; unless he broke that covenant they could not deprive him of ring, crystal, or magic. And he had no intention of turning his back on the covenant. To protect the crystal, to dispel the darkness that gripped Eos, those were things he, too, desired.

For the time he could do little more than wait.

He persisted with Reina and Noctis' training, guiding them gently along the path he had once followed with his own father.

Iris continued to visit regularly, growing closer to Reina by the week until they were nigh inseparable.

Regis managed to maintain distance from Crea—and she from him—in spite of her change in lodgings. But they did, bit by bit, manage to transfer Reina and Noctis to sleeping in their own room. The first night without them had been lonely. He had nearly changed his mind the next night. But they were nearly ten; he needed to let them grow up someday.

Niflheim was quiet. The loss of their general—the iron fist that was to force Lucis into submission—had sent the nation into shock. Doubtless they would redouble their efforts soon enough. With any luck, Lucis would be able to stand against those, as well.

Winter came. Regis took Reina and Noctis to visit Aulea's grave on the anniversary of her death. She had been dead for several times longer than they had been married by now. He still missed her every day.

He turned thirty-nine that winter. Reina danced better at nine than she had at six; the few extra years of height helped, as well.

And in spring came the Calling that he had been waiting for all year.

He woke one morning with a silent summons in his mind: the simple knowledge that he needed to visit the Crystal. That Astrals called. That they wished to speak with him directly rather than via the Lucii was indication enough of their displeasure.

He rose and dressed as usual, but lingered long enough to take breakfast with his children when they woke. The Gods could wait. His children were more important to him than their wishes. But the longer he tarried the stronger the feeling grew. Eventually he could ignore it no longer. He made his excuses to his family and to Clarus—who had come to discuss matters of state—and went alone to the central chamber of the Citadel, where the crystal was sheltered.

It had been nearly five years since Regis had set foot inside the crystal chamber. The last time he had carried his sleeping son to be weighed by the crystal and learned, to his dismay, that Noctis measured up extraordinarily well. He had spent an entire year dreading that day to come. This one he had anticipated nearly as long, though for different reasons. Today he stood before the Heart of Eos of his own volition. Today he learned how his defiance would be repaid.

The steady violet glow of the crystal filled the room. Regis shifted the mirrors aside and the light increased tenfold, piercing his body and soul. He shut his eyes against the blinding light, but advanced nevertheless.

"I have come, as commanded," Regis said. Though that wasn't entirely true, was it?

A pause. It stretched long enough that he wondered if they wouldn't simply make him wait as penance for making them wait. Petty. But, then again, so had his actions that morning been, after a fashion.

Then the voice spoke. Not in his ears, but in his mind. A voice that boomed so deeply it echoed in his skull and made his head ache.

:Thou walkest a dangerous path, Regis Lucis Caelum.:

"Indeed." He could see no point in denying what they both knew. "Any path unsanctioned by the Astrals is dangerous. Is that not so?"

:Thou hast granted forbidden magic to a child meant never to drink of our power.:

It was not unusual for his questions to go unanswered. The Draconian demanded much of his kings. What, exactly, did he offer in return?

"I have."

Silence, as if Bahamut struggled to comprehend such a blatant admission of defiance.

:Thou shalt rescind that power.:

"I will not."

:Further, thou shalt desist in dabbling. Time is not meant to be witnessed by mortals.:

Not only would Bahamut not accept that Regis could disobey their wishes but—and more importantly—he had also admitted what Regis had been wondering about for over a year. The Astrals did not send these visions to Reina. They had no control over her magic. Indeed, they had never intended for her to possess that magic in the first place. Telling facts, all.

"Our dabbling has saved countless lives," Regis said.

:That is immaterial. Lives are inconsequential in the larger vision. Thou shalt desist. Time is no toy for mortals to peer through.:

Lives were inconsequential. Lives. How could a god trusted to protect humanity speak such words?

"I have no doubt they would disagree. Was it part of the divine plan for Tenebrae to burn? For the Oracle to die? For traitors to remain in our midst long enough to stab me in the back?"

A pause. Hesitation? Could a god hesitate?

:Yes.:

"I cannot believe that."

Still, it was difficult to discount the warning off-hand. What if every change he made for the better in the present impacted the future in some negative way?

:Heed our warning, young king. Step away from this path and return to the light, or darkness will take hold in your kingdom.:

The sensation of connection vanished. The light in the crystal—blinding before—faded to a more manageable level. The Draconian was gone, though he had never been present in the first place. And Regis was left blinking in the crystal light, endeavoring to make sense of what he had heard.

He returned to the upper levels of the Citadel. When he arrived, he had little recollection of the trip. His feet had moved, but his mind had switched gears. As he stood at the top of the stairs, watching his children hard at work with their tutor, he wondered if he shouldn't have gone somewhere else altogether. He needed time to think. He would have to make a choice eventually; a choice that would dictate what path he and his children tread from this point onward. Sitting in the lounge with his—comparatively—happy family was not conducive to such thought.

He passed through, giving Reina and Noctis each a brief kiss, and Avun instructions not to be disturbed unless Clarus arrived. Then he retired to his rooms.

The sitting room in his suite had ample space to walk. He made his rounds, attempting to walk off some of his growing agitation as his mind worked. He was no closer to the solution by the time a knock sounded on his door and Clarus entered.

"You wished to see me?" Clarus asked.

"The Lucis Caelums stand upon a precipice, Clarus." Regis stood with his back to the door, staring out the window across Lucis. "I must make a choice. A side must be chosen."

"Between…?"

"Between Gods and Men. Do I walk the path laid before me, feed the crystal with my own life and usher my son on to buy light and prosperity with his own blood, and my daughter to pick up the pieces and carry on alone? Or do I turn aside into the unknown? The divine plan spells death for so many, but in the end light will prevail. Can I be so certain that Eos will survive, if I stray from the path?"

The greater good. The Astrals asked that he sacrifice his son for the greater good.

"I gather they have learned of your defiance," Clarus said.

"And then some, yes," Regis said. "They have demanded that Reina never again look into the future."

"What could they possibly have against foresight?"

Regis shook his head. "They never offer answers. Only instructions. She is to desist… or else… I know not what."

Clarus came to stand beside him, arms folded, and stared out the window. Would he truly stand with Regis if they stood against the Gods? Regis stole a sideways glance at him. Yes. Of course he would. No matter what path Regis walked, Clarus would walk beside him. If he disagreed, he would make that known… and then carry on following until the end of the road.

"Have you spoken to Reina about this?" Clarus asked.

Regis' brows snapped together. "Have I asked my nine year old daughter to choose the fate of the world? No Clarus. I detest even putting the kingdom on her future shoulders."

"Not to choose. But it may be the case that she can offer enlightening information. As I understand it, you fear that her visions might lead to a future that is safer for yourself and Noctis—as that is where her priorities lie—but is overall worse for all others."

"More or less, yes," Regis said. "That is what I fear."

"Perhaps she would have input on that. No, I realize she does not have control over her Dreams and cannot simply look ahead to experience what the future has to offer if you do not follow the Gods' path—that would make this much simpler—but she seems to have some notion of what will occur in the future, ever without Dreaming it. Is that not so?"

"She has given warnings that did not follow Dreams," Regis admitted.

"Think of it as listening to advice from the council. They give their input as is fitting with their expertise, but the decision is still, ultimately, yours to make."

"Very well." Regis sighed. "Now I need only think how to pose the question."

"I'm afraid I cannot help you there." Clarus squeezed his shoulder. "We'll speak of this again, after."

They both rejoined the others in the lounge, though Clarus only lingered briefly before leaving to tend to his own duties. Regis spent what remained of the day in distracted thought, his eyes frequently on Reina as he tried to decide how best to broach the subject.

She slept primarily in her own bed, these days, though Regis would sit with her for a time while she attempted to Dream. He briefly considered taking her aside to speak with her, but no. While it may have concerned Reina specifically, he preferred to include both twins as often as possible. He had no reason to exclude Noctis from this. Still, he had little notion how to explain the situation so as to express its seriousness without terrifying his children. When bedtime came, he was no closer to an answer. But the time was here, nonetheless.

"Reina, my dear…" Regis lowered himself into the chair in the corner between their beds. "I have some questions about your foresight. Perhaps you can help me answer them."

She peered up at him, already tucked into bed, and stretched out across the gap to take Noctis' hanging hand. "I can try, Father."

"That is all I ask," Regis said. He paused, attempting to collect his thoughts into some semblance of words. "There are other entities—not humans, but magical beings—who also have some understanding of fate and time. I have no notion of how their Sight works—if they can see as clearly or as far as you—but at times their advice conflicts with yours. I know that you do your best to protect myself and Noctis—"

Reina nodded.

"But I am curious if you have any notion of what might occur beyond our family. Is it possible that, in addition to protecting the two of us, some choices may harm Insomnia, or Lucis, or other people whom we may not even know?"

Reina's brow furrowed and Regis' heart sank. He hadn't explained himself very well. He wasn't certain how to explain more clearly without telling her the Gods themselves condemned her magic.

"I protect you from everything, Father," she said, puzzled.

"Yes, I know you do try—but is it possible that protecting me might harm the kingdom? Or the people?"

"No." She said it so definitively that he was momentarily taken aback. "I protect you and you protect the people. If the people were hurt you would be sad. But I don't…" Her mouth twisted as she struggled to find the right words. "I don't let that happen. I protect you from being sad."

"I believe I understand…" Regis said slowly. Although it opened many new questions. Not least of which was—if she could not Dream reliably, how did she have any clear notion of protecting him? She seemed certain about everything she had said. Reina may have been many things, but she was not usually decisive or confident. "Thank you, my dear."

"Did I answer your questions, Father?"

"You did, Little Princess, though I will still need to think things over. Regardless, I believe it is time for you to Dream."

She smiled and nodded. She shut her eyes and dropped easily into the In-Between without needing any more guidance or permission than that. This time he stayed by her side. This time he watched as, seconds after she had fallen from consciousness, her breath caught in her throat, her eyes moved behind closed lids, and her hands clenched in the blankets.

Regis hesitated, as he did each time he was faced with the choice of when to wake her. If she had been capable of waking herself at a Dream's end, he would not have held so many reservations. But she would remain in a waking sleep until he pulled her back to the physical world. Such was as it always had been.

Yet, a moment after the initial tension, she seemed to relax. She Dreamed, still. Her breath came in uneven bursts rather than the slow and steady beat of a sleeping child. Her eyes still moved. Her lips did, too, as if she mouthed words not meant for him. Occasionally she would shift in her bed—not the gradual motion of sleep, but something more like waking motion weighed down by unconsciousness.

And then she screamed:

"Noctis!"

And sat upright in bed, her eyes open but unseeing as tears welled then spilled in a steady stream.

In the other bed, Noctis groped through sleep and dragged himself awake. "R..Rei…?"

"Reina." Regis shifted to sit on the edge of her bed, taking her shoulders in his hands and reaching out to grasp her magic. "Wake up, my dear."

She squirmed in his grasp, her magic pulling against his, resisting wakefulness. She had never pulled back before.

"Don't touch me!" It wasn't her voice—or it was, but not in her tones. Not at this age. She grabbed at his hands, trying to pull away from him.

"Reina." Regis held her more firmly. "Look at me, Reina. Just me. Nothing else."

She stopped trying to pry his hands from her shoulders. The resistance drained from her body as if she had lost the will to fight. The tears continued in a steady stream.

"See me."

She blinked at him, focusing too slowly.

"Father…?" Confusion crossed her face.

"Just me."

She twisted in his arms before he could pull her into a hug. "Noct?"

Noctis was climbing into her bed behind her. She threw her arms around him and cried all the harder.

"I won't—" she said, "—I won't let it happen."

And all at once Regis knew what she had Dreamed. The last thing he had wanted to protect her from. The knowledge he had never wanted to share with either twin, but in spite of knowing that she would eventually Dream Noctis' fate if they persisted on this path, he hadn't been prepared.

"Won't let what happen…?" Noctis asked.

"Reina," Regis said firmly.

She pulled back enough to look at Regis over her shoulder. He shook his head. Some Dreams were better not shared.

"Darkness veiled the world." She stared up at Regis. "Who makes prophecies, Father?"

"That prophecy is written in the cosmogony. Its origin might be traced back to the Astrals themselves."

"Why don't they try to change what they see?"

"I don't know, my dear."

Reina frowned up at him, then looked back to Noctis.

"It was just… dark?" Noctis asked.

"Everything was dark," Reina said. "There was no sun."

They stared at each other in silence—though perhaps unspoken words passed between them, which Regis could not begin to comprehend. He was the one who broke it.

"Reina…"

"Father?"

"Do you believe you could help me to change that future?"

She stared at him for a long moment. He began to understand that she was not even looking at him. Though what she was looking at—thinking of—he could not begin to guess.

"Yes," she said. Definitive. Confident. Certain.

The Astrals had forbidden it.

He was to rescind her magic and forbid her from looking through time ever again, or face their wrath.

He shut his eyes and set his jaw.

It was time to learn what happened when he angered the Gods.