BOOK 2: THE TALE OF THE CHOSEN KING
CHAPTER 33 – DAWN
The four friends stood under the persistent rain. Noctis had found them at the throne room, trying to shake away the effects of Ardyn's spell. It had taken them a while to recover but, as soon as they could stand on their feet, they devised a plan to protect the Citadel.
Daemons, though created by Ardyn, had a will of their own, and detected the magic of the Crystal. There was a high risk that the beasts would intrude and interrupt the ritual, so Prompto, Ignis and Gladio would return to the plaza to protect the Citadel. Wishing to at least have a few farewell words with his friends, Noctis accompanied them to the palace stairs, where they had been sent off by King Regis ten years prior.
"So this is farewell," said Ignis, turning to his friend at the foot of the stairs.
"Yeah. Here we are," Noctis smiled at the three of them.
"It's all you," Gladio encouraged him.
The King nodded and, turning away, slowly ascended the stairs.
"No turning back now," said Prompto, fighting back his tears.
Hearing those words, Noctis stopped and turned to them.
"Prompto. Gladio. Ignis," he said, trying to burn in his memory the image of his best friends, the men who had helped and accompanied him during his long journey: His brothers. "I leave it to you. Walk tall… my friends."
"Godspeed," said Ignis. "And take care. Majesty."
The three of them made the Lucian salute and bowed to their King.
"The time has come," the King said, mirroring the salute and holding his head high.
As they watched their King and friend ascending the stairs, the three men could hear howling and screeching of daemons. Turning, they saw a swarm of the monsters at the gates, trying to break in, as they had expected.
Summoning their weapons, they readied themselves to fight.
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The rain had stopped at some point while he rode the elevator to the throne room. The chamber was eerily silent, and no sound from the city reached that floor. Noctis knew that, at that very moment, his friends were fighting a battle at the plaza. Maybe a losing one.
With each step he took towards the throne, thoughts kept pressing against each other in his mind. The voice of self-preservation had been the strongest one when Bahamut had revealed his destiny as the Chosen, but Noctis had silenced it. Now it was just a murmur, repressed by the memories of everything Noctis had seen in the wake of Ardyn's devastation. The suffering and the darkness had to end, once and for all.
It seemed like an eternity since he last saw his father sitting at the black marble throne, and even longer since Noctis himself sat at his father's knees while the later told him stories of the ancient kings.
He caressed the throne's arms, recalling the day he had discovered, with sinking despair, how the Wall was speeding his father's aging and no one seemed to care. His younger self rebelled, furious that everyone only thought about politics and warfare, while he was losing his father, the only family he had ever known.
"I'm home," he said. He had caught a shadow, out of the corner of his eye, which looked very similar to his father. "I walked tall… And though it took me a while, I'm ready now."
Noctis took the photo he had borrowed from Prompto and left it on the right arm. Taking now his place at the throne, he fought to slow down his racing heart.
"I love you all. Luna, guys… Dad…"
The Ring shone, brighter than ever, as Noctis felt the presence, not only of his father, but also of all the other Kings.
Now he knew that shadow was his father but, for some reason, Regis had his back turned to him.
"The time we had together…" he said aloud. "I cherish."
Now the Crystal, sensing the power of the Ring, shone above the throne with a blinding light. Looking up, the Chosen One called the Kings forth.
"Kings of Lucis, come to me!"
He summoned his father's sword and cleaved it on the marble floor in front of him. He held fast onto the grip as the Royal Arms manifested around the throne. One by one, the ghost of the Kings of Yore appeared and took the glaives they wielded in life. Somnus, the Founder King, would be the first to stand before the Chosen One. His sword ready, he struck at Noctis, and both glaive and the King's spirit entered the Ring.
All the kings repeated the ritual, until Noctis nearly lost his grip on the sword. His father's ghost stood by the throne, not looking at his son, until all the other Kings had entered the Ring.
Feeling his life force slipping away, he remembered his friends and everyone he cared about one last time and, with trembling hands, he offered the sword that had nearly fallen from his hand to its rightful owner.
"Dad…" he said in a trembling, thin voice. "Trust in me…"
A flame erupted before Noctis and, from that flame, came an armored figure he had never seen. He felt his father's presence in that armor and tried to look up, but the figure struck him before their eyes could meet.
With a last flash of light, the throne room became dark and silent once more.
The Ring, now sated with power, glowed in the cold hand of the King, his inert body impaled to the throne with his father's sword, until an explosion of light engulfed all.
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Noctis stood over a vortex of energy. That was the door to the Crystal, which served as barrier with the other world. That would be where he would find Ardyn, unable to cross that barrier due to his corruption, and damned to regenerate time and time again each time his body was destroyed.
Throwing the sword of his father to the vortex, he warped headlong to finally carry out his duty as King.
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He stood in a space he was already familiar with: the inside of the Crystal, which lorded over the souls of the Lucis line. But this time there was a presence there.
Ardyn.
The man stood there, waiting, his expression again of mocking defiance as he offered him a jeering bow.
His perpetual smirk vanished, however, when he saw that Noctis wasn't alone: The memory of his three friends had accompanied him into the Crystal, along with Regis' spirit.
The Scourge began to rebel inside Ardyn, taking over his spirit as it had done with his body. Contorting in pain, Ardyn seemed to resist that influence, but the combined power of all the daemons he had absorbed finally overpowered him, and his whole body became a twisted abomination.
Noctis raised his hand with the Ring, and Ardyn (or what remained of him) mirrored him, invoking the power of darkness. A golden light appeared at his side, however, and two pale hands wrapped around his right arm. He tried to shake them away in fury, but Luna's blessing had weakened him already. He snarled in frustration as the golden light of the purifying spell extended to the rest of his body, and saw in despair how the Ring shone with a blinding light.
The King screamed as the power of the Ring consumed his arm, burning him from the inside, and the Royal Arms slowly came out of his body.
Now free from the Ring, the Kings of the Lucis line took their weapons and, at a signal from Noctis, they all lunged towards Ardyn, whose soul was destroyed for good in a flash of light.
Spent, his soul nearly consumed by the power of the Ring, Noctis closed his eyes, and let Oblivion claim his soul, as he and the Ring dissolved into nothingness.
It's finally over…
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People all around the world marveled at the sunrise. Ten years of perpetual darkness had come to an end, as was promised.
The daemons and the Scourge disappeared with the new day, and the blessed rays of the sun shone over a world that had suffered much, had toiled much, but would resurface with renewed hopes.
Outside Insomnia, on a small hill overlooking the bay, three friends gathered the camping utensils they had used weeks prior. They did so in silence, knowing in their hearts that their friend had gone in peace, and that they still had much to do.
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The warm rays of sunlight entered the throne room through the destroyed wall. White flowers were arranged along the aisle and on the balconies, as blue petals, scattered along the red carpet, signaled the path to the throne. Shards of the Crystal mingled with the falling sylleblossom petals in the empty chamber, white silk and red and golden banners with the Lucis' crest adorned the walls, commemorating the ascension of King Noctis Lucis Caelum CXIV.
No one was present to see this scene, but if someone had been, they would have seen two ethereal figures atop the stairs: One, dressed in the modern full dress of the Lucian kings, sitting at the throne, the other, in a radiant wedding gown, sitting at its right. And, had they paid attention, they would have heard a voice which had been silenced ten years prior:
Dearest Luna, you did well to deliver the Ring to Noctis. Wayward through my son may indeed be, he has made me proud. May you two know happiness.
King Noctis took the photograph he had left there before his sacrifice and showed it to Luna. She smiled, gazing at it, and then they shared a kiss.
Contented with being finally together, the two spirits bowed their heads and sunk into a deep sleep.
Fin
AN: And so ends the story of Noctis Lucis Caelum. It's been almost a year since I started publishing this story, plus another half a year of previous writing, and all the while I've kept editing the whole thing. It's overwhelmingly bittersweet to say goodbye to the Chocobros and the Kingsglaive, at least in the canon story. As with the game, one cannot help but feel attached to these characters: their struggles, their joys and hopes and, believe or not, even their faults, which made them all the more human.
But this is not the end! There's one more story to tell, that of the saint who was turned into the blight which plagued the world of Eos. Please, stay with us for one more tale next week.
