Cold, damp grit stuck to the undersides of his fingers. His face ached where it was pressed to the ground, the rough pavement creating grooves along his cheeks. Noctis blearily pushed himself upright.
The world was dyed in a cold grey light, the grim darkness of nighttime beginning to fade to dawn. What happened last night? The last thing he remembered was Gentiana—the snow... Was she gone? Gone forever? Had Shiva done something to her?
He didn't know. He felt incredibly dizzy, and an uncomfortable ache permeated his entire body. It wasn't as bad as it had been before—he could sit upright with no great effort, but he certainly wasn't at his best. Then again, this might be the best he could hope for what with his power having been released. He quickly pushed that thought away. He needed to get to safety as soon as possible. Daemons would still be prowling the streets at this time of day—he was lucky one hadn't found him before.
Something flashed overhead.
He glanced up at the sky. Nothing. Maybe it was just his imagination? He stumbled upright. If something was lurking about it would be best not to be caught off-guard.
He was still next to the railings bordering off the port from the lake where he'd fought Leviathan. She was more visible now, in the fading dawn, though still hard enough to see that he wasn't quite sure he wasn't dreaming. The ache in his bones felt real though.
Something flashed overhead again.
He jerked his head up, this time just in time to see an imp flying towards his face. He batted it away with pure instinct, barely even feeling as he reached into the Armiger and sliced down hard with his sword. It bounced away and evaporated into the night, but Noctis was on his guard now. Apparently his period of amnesty was over. He needed to be careful.
He kept his sword gripped tightly in his hands as he staggered forward, into the city and away from the sea. The buildings rose high above him, the white stone streets of Altissia all seemed to blend into one as he went down alleyway after alleyway. When he emerged into the third plaza he didn't really recognise, he was forced to admit it to himself. He was hopelessly lost.
Completely blacking out when Gentiana had taken him there probably hadn't helped. He still had no idea what had happened there—it was as though he'd passed out but his body had somehow kept going. Was that normal? He didn't remember ever having done anything like that before, even in the many memories he now had access to... Tears were beginning to well up in his eyes again as he thought about it. Damn it! Couldn't he have one normal day?
He quickened his pace, not caring where he was going, so long as no one was watching him. He furiously blinked away the tears, internally berating himself over being so utterly pathetic. He was better than this! If he really had killed the Gods, then he should be able to take remembering a few sad memories!
He marched angrily onwards, ignoring the way his legs were shaking. Eventually, he found a secluded side street, lined by a large, solid-looking wall. He hopped on top of it and glowered down at the floor, not even entirely sure what he was so angry at. Himself? Ugh, no... His mind still felt like it was on the verge of splitting in two, and he simply had no way of resolving it. Every time he recalled those memories that had so long remained buried, his emotions went completely out of whack, leaving him feeling like a much-abused football being kicked about again. Gods he was tired.
He tried to focus back on the present, drawing his mind away from all those questions pounding ceaselessly in his head.
What Gentiana had said before she left—that was what he should be thinking about right now. Another prophecy...could it be true? But it was quite different to the one Bahamut had told him before. The time of Gods and Kings shall be ended. What would that kind of world even look like? Hopefully better than this one. It had to be. It couldn't all have been for nothing. And that meant the Astrals would be gone too. If what she'd said was right—that all their souls had to join with his, to return to the earth…
But how did he do that? He couldn't just claim a God's soul as his own—tear it out of their chest and merge it with his own. There had to be more to it than that. But what?
No, he was still missing something—something important, and he was sure that whatever it was was part of that memory he'd been missing. Gentiana had been going to tell him, but Shiva had stopped her—possibly killed her, if Messengers could be killed. That meant the other Astrals had to know.
He let out a heavy sigh. It was stupid trying to aim for Bahamut, the highest and least sympathetic of the Astrals, he knew that, but what other choice did he have? He couldn't summon any of the others while Shiva might be watching. If she was willing to kill her own Messenger, then she couldn't be trusted not to try and silence them too. Bahamut at least had ascendancy over the others. That was what was important here.
His plan remained unchanged then—find Bahamut, and demand answers. But at least he knew the prophecy now. Strange, that it matched up so closely with what he'd wanted all along. An end to destiny and magic and the Gods. But then, it'd have to be something pretty close to what he wanted for him to be willing to die for it, right?
...The atmosphere of the street had changed. Noctis felt as though he'd missed something, caught up in his thoughts like that. A sign, or a warning—
"GET OUT OF THE WAY!"
Noctis sprung from the wall he'd been sitting on automatically, just as a blade swung down hard onto the space where he'd just been sitting. He looked up to see the skeletal face of a Reaper staring him down.
Shit.
It was lifting its scythe again already, aiming another swing at his head, and it was pure instinct that made him grasp the Ultima Blade out of the void and bring it up to deflect the blow. His arm ached as the magic ran through it, the clang of metal on metal reverberating through his ears and making him feel sick.
He moved away again—trying to get out of its reach, spinning and dodging away from it as he looked for an opening to strike. His heart was hammering in his chest, his limbs shaking as he moved. He wasn't recovered enough for this and he knew it, especially with the situation his arm was in. Then, all at once the Reaper reared back, and he saw his chance.
Noctis leapt forward and drove his blade straight into the creature's chest. It screamed, and for a second he dared to think it was over, but then something collided with his torso and he went flying backwards, hitting the ground hard as his sword went spinning out of his hand.
His barely healed muscles screeched at him as he tried to push himself upwards, his left arm throbbing from the hit, but he was too slow. The Reaper was looming over him, pulling its sword back—he wasn't really going to die here, was he?
But then, something silver and glistening exploded through the creature's chest, and its eyes went wide and empty. It was dead. Someone had killed it.
As it collapsed into miasma, Noctis found he was shuddering. A figure was emerging through the dark mist on the other side. But no, it couldn't be—
"Ravus?"
Ravus raised an imperious eyebrow and tossed Noctis his sword back. Noctis had to scramble to catch it, and almost fell over again, his feet still not quite in tune with the rest of his body.
"What on earth is the Prince of Lucis doing out here when he ought to be recovering at the doctor's, I wonder?" he asked menacingly. "I hope you have a good explanation, boy."
Ah, this was what he'd been afraid of. Still, Ravus knew about the Messengers, didn't he? Maybe he could use that to his advantage?
"I saw Gentiana," he said, his voice still not sounding as strong as he'd like it to. "She asked me to come with her, so I did."
"Gentiana?" asked Ravus, his eyes widening. "Are you sure?"
"Sure as I can be," said Noctis, looking at him suspiciously. "Why?"
Ravus frowned, then shook his head. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter now, in any case." He marched over to Noctis and grabbed him by the shoulders, and for a moment Noctis was afraid he was going to shake him, but instead he just looked him up and down—as though searching for something.
"Um, hi," said Noctis, not a little unsettled.
Finally, Ravus sighed and let go of his shoulders. "Well, you appear to be able to stand upright without help at least," he said, still glaring at Noctis. "I suppose that will have to be good enough."
"Excuse me?" asked Noctis, feeling as though he'd stepped into an alternate reality. "Good enough for what?"
"Lunafreya," said Ravus, turning on his heel and beginning to walk away. When he realised Noctis wasn't following, he turned around and waved at him. "Come on then, we haven't got all day!"
"Haven't got all day for what?" asked Noctis, jogging over to him and feeling more and more confused by the minute.
Ravus turned to him, exasperated. "To get to your miserable friends. I was to meet with them this morning, and you've already made me late. Besides, I'd shudder to think what they'd do if you walked in by yourself looking like that. No, you must walk with me, it's the only sensible option."
"Right," said Noctis, slowly putting things together. In fairness, Ravus probably had a point. For all he'd tried to brush it off, he still had bits of grit clinging to him from where he'd collapsed on the pavement, and he hadn't even looked in a mirror to see what toll the battle had taken on him. He was willing to bet it wasn't pretty though. And that brought him onto another thing he'd been wondering.
"Do you know how long I've been unconscious, exactly?" he asked, struggling to keep up with Ravus's powerful strides.
Ravus gave him a withering stare. "About three days. You broke out of the doctors' rather than being formally discharged, then? Why am I not surprised?"
"I told you—Gentiana told me to come with her. You can't say no to her!" Noctis cried indignantly, feeling the need to defend himself.
"Oh, it doesn't concern me," said Ravus, carelessly. "If you choose to get yourself killed by your recklessness, by all means go ahead. I fear the wrath of your friends and my sister would be rather unpleasant to behold though, so I've elected to guide you there lest you get yourself killed along the way."
"Well thanks," said Noctis, as sarcastically as possible.
He really couldn't stand Ravus, even though he could tell he was being mostly sarcastic about the whole 'wanting him to die' thing. It was a bit of a relief though—at least he was still acting normally. He suspected the real trouble would begin once he met up with the others. As Ravus had pointed out, they weren't likely to be much more understanding.
As the silence continued, Ravus led him slowly through the winding streets of Altissia. He seemed to know precisely where he was going, not even bothering to look around and check where they were—but of course, that made sense. It wasn't too surprising that figureheads of the Empire like Luna and Ravus would spend a lot of time in the imperial provinces.
The grey light of dawn was beginning to fade into colour as the sun rose slowly over the waves. Noctis thought he occasionally saw a daemon or two back into a dark alley, trying to escape the sun. There seemed to be more of them now. Or was that just his imagination?
"My sister was quite...distressed by your illness, you know," said Ravus, breaking the brief silence that had settled over them.
"Well I was unconscious for...what, days? You said? Anyone would be worried about that."
Noctis wasn't quite sure what Ravus wanted him to say, whether or not he was annoyed that Luna cared. Noctis had never been able to get a good read on Ravus, even when they were children, and that hadn't changed now. Ravus sighed deeply. That didn't help matters.
"She seemed to be convinced that the toll of forging the covenant was falling upon you instead of on her," he said.
He honestly didn't know what to say to that.
"Well…" he frowned, trying to find something to say that wouldn't cause Ravus to explode. "That's a good thing, right? If it had come on her she'd probably have died from it, wouldn't she? Least I still have some life left in me."
Ravus was quiet for a long moment. Noctis hoped that was because he was pondering what he'd said and not whether or not to slice him in two.
"That's a matter of debate by all accounts," he said, not turning to look at Noctis. "Your hapless retainers were giving me the details just yesterday."
"Alright, I admit that's fair," he said, though he was internally chafing at the idea that his friends had been complaining to Ravus about all his difficulties. "Still, I'm not actually dying dying, you know? Got a few injuries. No big deal. Plenty of people get those."
"Most don't insist on fighting a war with them."
He was genuinely confused by the tack Ravus was taking now.
"Are you like...trying to persuade me not to go to Gralea? Is that what this is?"
"No," hissed Ravus, a bit too vehemently for the question. "Nothing of the kind. I'm merely conveying Luna's thoughts on the matter."
With the second mention of Luna a few things slotted to place in Noctis's mind. He'd noticed the similarity between Ravus and Ignis a few times, and now he realised Ravus must be hoping that if he could persuade him not to go ahead with his (admittedly suicidal) mission he would be helping Luna. Of course, he had no way of knowing of the terrible consequences that would result if Noctis failed.
Still, it was...unusual, in his mind, to see Ravus openly care so much for her. It probably shouldn't be. He knew that in the great mass of recollections stirring somewhere in the back of his mind he'd seen Luna and Ravus be friendly plenty of times before. Perhaps even more often than not. But as with everything else stored away in there, it was a very distant, detached knowledge, and he had to look hard to find it. It was hard to focus on the present again, and when Ravus spoke, it was as though he was hearing his voice from very far away.
"Besides," said Ravus, clearly taking his silence to mean he wasn't going to answer, "I hear the prophecy requires you both to live to see it through. I won't hear of her having endured such sacrifice only for you to die mere days later and ruin everything."
"Yes," said Noctis, so dulled to the world he was barely even aware he said it. "That's right."
He felt Ravus's stare boring its way into the side of his head, but couldn't muster up the energy to say something about it.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but are you alright?" asked Ravus, his voice still sharp, but there was concern written all over his face.
Noctis was abruptly back in his body again, and he almost gasped at the shock of it. He really needed to stop himself drifting away like that. It was horrible.
"Fine," he said quickly. "I was just distracted, that's all."
Ravus gave a tentative nod, then quickened his pace. Noctis wished he wouldn't—his legs still hurt, after all, but he didn't have the nerve to complain when he was on such thin ground already. His body was still so weak...
One last shot. The thought came back, like an electric shock. It was odd to think that mere months ago death had just been a fact of life for him, as easy and natural as breathing, he'd done it so many times. But now it felt so different. Probably how it should feel, now he thought about it.
He wasn't sure if his sudden fear could be attributed to the fact he still couldn't find himself quite agreeing with the memories in his head, or just pure terror at the fate he knew awaited him if he failed. It sat like a leaden weight on his chest, dragging him down.
If Ravus noticed his melancholy, he didn't say anything, only flicking his eyes back to check Noctis was still following him every now and then. Something occurred to him.
"Hey, did you know everything about the prophecy?" he asked, and noticed Ravus's back tense up a little as he said it.
Ravus sighed deeply, leading them under yet another grand archway.
"I knew enough," he said, his face set in his usual frown, though it seemed to be deeper this time. "It was killing Luna."
"And that it was going to kill me?"
Ravus stopped in his tracks, and gave another sigh. He looked genuinely unhappy. Noctis wasn't really sure what to think of that. He wasn't used to Ravus actually seeming to care about his wellbeing. Or perhaps he was just embarrassed that he was bringing it up? That was probably it.
"Yes," he said, staring into the distance. "I knew you would die."
"I see," said Noctis. He couldn't think of anything else to say. Another person who might have told him, but never had. Not that he could really blame Ravus, though. It wasn't like they'd been on speaking terms for most of the intervening years in which that information might have been relevant.
"You appear melancholy," said Ravus, abruptly breaking the silence. "If you've done this before then surely you knew of your fate?"
Noctis sighed. "Yeah, well—eventually."
"Eventually?"
"Not until pretty near the end, all things considered."
Ravus looked genuinely surprised. "No one ever told you?"
"No," said Noctis, pushing down the old bitterness. "Too sentimental, apparently. Didn't want me to know that I was doomed to die. Wanted me to live a 'normal life' before all that. Fat lot of good it did me."
And Eos, for that matter. For all their good intentions, that lack of knowledge had doomed the earth to die and forced him down into this miserable whirlpool of unending life and death. Could they have predicted their actions would cause him such a fate? Probably not. Still, it stung.
"I see," said Ravus, pensively. "Rather shortsighted of the King, if you ask me."
"I didn't," said Noctis, "but you're right. None of what happened would have happened if someone had just told me. But no one did. And now I'm here again, trying to put things right."
"How is that working out, by your estimation?"
What a question... After all that had been revealed to him—how was this, his final attempt, actually shaping up? Not good, if the memories that crawled and crept at the edge of his consciousness were any indication. But what did they know? And besides, if he was going off them, he couldn't possibly get any worse than...that time.
"Alright," he said, suppressing a shudder as the memories began to rise again. "Better than last time." Which 'last time' he was thinking of though, he couldn't say.
"Is that good enough?"
"I don't know." Which was why the faster he got to Bahamut, the better.
There was another pause, and gradually the streets were becoming more familiar. Noctis thought he could guess where they were heading. The sun had fully risen now, the sky a pale blue in the morning light, the daemons vanishing from the streets entirely. For how long though, Noctis didn't know.
Ravus's step paused for a moment, and Noctis quickly came to a stop, glancing around to see if anything had happened. But there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary, and almost as though it had never happened, Ravus began walking again.
Noctis was about to ask if something was wrong, but Ravus spoke before he could get a word out.
"Has it occurred to you, during your travels, that the word of the Gods may be wrong?"
Now that made Noctis stop in place. Did he possibly know what Gentiana had just told him? "How do you mean?"
Ravus turned back to face him. "I mean the prophecy. Do you think it is all as they have proclaimed it to be? That it will happen as they have said?"
Noctis was confused. "It worked last time."
"Did it?"
Noctis frowned. "The light came back." Humanity died, but as Bahamut had so astutely said—that was not a provision of the prophecy. But what Gentiana said as she was taken...
Light will bathe the world anew, and the time of Gods and Kings shall be ended.
He knew it to be true, but it didn't quite line up with what Bahamut had told him in the Crystal. Had he lied? Why would something as mighty as Bahamut deceive him? It wasn't like he wanted humanity to die... What had gone wrong back there? So far in the past...
"I can see merely from your expression that you think there's more to it," said Ravus.
Noctis shook himself, crashing back down into reality, and glared at Ravus.
"Maybe, maybe not. Why do you care?"
Ravus raised an eyebrow. "Why do I care whether or not I know the truth about the fate of our planet? I have my own people to attend to Prince Noctis, whose lives I bear upon my shoulders. Is so surprising I would not see them harmed by a false prophecy?"
Noctis sighed. Ravus was right, of course, but Noctis couldn't identify his line of thinking. Why would he think the prophecy was false in the first place?
"Why do you think it's not true?"
Ravus frowned slightly, then stared at the ground for several seconds, before turning back to Noctis. "It is...hard to explain. I suppose it amounts to the fact I've less faith in the Gods than you and Lunafreya."
"I've not got so much faith in them myself," said Noctis, however much of an understatement that was, "but I'm not sure they actually made the prophecy. They convey it to us, sure, but I think it's bigger than them."
Like the universe itself speaking to him. That was how it had felt when Gentiana stared at him and spoke those words. Something he'd always known—before he was even born. Something ancient. Could it be...
"An interesting perspective," said Ravus. "Possibly you are right, but as a mere mortal not blessed with the gifts of magic, I suppose I have to leave such speculations to those who are."
Well, that might also be why Ravus wasn't so keen on the Gods. It had to hurt to be stuck in a position where he needed to help but had no magic to do so.
"We aren't far now," said Ravus, perhaps sensing Noctis's discomfort.
"Are they still at the Leville?"
"Yes, it's relatively easy to get to, as a meeting place."
"Why wasn't I there?"
Ravus raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any idea how hard it was for us to even find a doctor in the aftermath of all this destruction? You're lucky one saw to you at all."
"So you had to move me over there, then."
"That is correct."
Noctis hoped that meant they wouldn't have too negative a reaction to seeing him up on his feet again.
"I must say you seem remarkably well for someone who's been comatose for three days," said Ravus, offhandedly.
If Ravus could see the state of the inside of his head, Noctis somehow doubted he'd be so blithe about it. "Yeah, well, I've had a rough few months. High pain tolerance, I guess."
"That can be both a blessing and a curse."
"Trust me, I know," sighed Noctis. "But for now I think it's fine. I'm just a bit more tired than usual." 'Fine' being a relative term of course. His entire body still ached in a dull, unceasing manner, but nowadays that practically was his version of 'fine'.
Fortunately, it seemed they wouldn't have to talk about the awkward topic of his injuries for much longer, if Noctis recognised the street they were walking down. If they turned just one more corner…
And there it was, towering high above them, the Leville. It was odd how comforting the hotel had become to him. Given it was the chain they almost always stayed in while they were near a city it had practically become a home away from home, he was so used to it now. Perhaps he ought to be unnerved that he could remember its interior more vividly now than he could recall the Citadel. Or perhaps not. The Citadel was many things, but homely had never been one of them. Not to him, at least.
"Will they be waiting for us?" he asked, hovering on the exterior as Ravus strode inside.
"They'll be waiting for me," he said, smirking. "I would tell you you ought to get cleaned up before seeing them but I don't think that'll be possible now."
Noctis half-thought Ravus had done it on purpose, to show him up in front of his friends, but he had only led Noctis back to the hotel, which was what he had wanted. He still felt a twinge of resentment though.
"Right," he sighed, stepping across the threshold, "let's get going then."
Hey, are Noctis and Ravus having a civil conversation? Stranger things have happened! And besides, it was about time the two of them had a chat. It was an interesting one to delve into given they both have rather unusual opinions on the Gods and such. As always, thank you to everyone still reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
