—
Ravus would never admit to hiding, but he wouldn't deny that he had absolutely just turned on his heel and briskly started walking away from the trio that was stalking down the street.
Amicitia, Prompto, and Aranea…
No. Absolutely not. He was not letting them corner him. He had no desire to be punched again just for being a good and responsible friend that had kept his promise.
So long as he rounded the corner quickly, he could still escape unseen–
Ravus stopped dead.
…He took it back. He'd rather have dealt with the other three. But somehow he doubted just finding another corner to walk around would ward off Ardyn.
"What," Ravus said flatly, crossing his arms.
Ardyn's gaze on him was steady, but Ravus could just… sense the turmoil from the sack of daemons parading as a man.
"The prophecy. Do you believe it to be unbroken? That it cannot be altered at all?"
Ravus lifted a brow. An odd conversation to strike up with him. That was more Lunafreya's area. But she didn't want to speak to Ardyn at the moment. And somehow, Ravus supposed he'd gotten the luck of being Ardyn's second choice. Because he technically was his family as much as Lunafreya.
After all the time it had been since Lunafreya discovered that little fact, it was still no less nauseating.
Ravus scoffed, holding up his mechanical arm dramatically. "I would think that you would know I'm hardly the person to ask in regards to interpreting the prophecy."
Ardyn… seemed to slump. "I do suppose you're right…"
They were both silent for a moment, and then Ravus chuckled. "I see not even you are brave enough to face my sister when her true wrath is unleashed."
Ardyn didn't snip back at him. He merely stared at the ground. "Braving her ire would do naught when she is unwilling to speak anything other than words of malice."
Ravus smirked. "Very forgiving she may be, but even she needs time for some matters–"
Ardyn straightened suddenly with a gasp, his entire body rigid with tension as he stared off at something Ravus couldn't see.
"…What?" Ravus asked warily. If something made Ardyn look so disturbed, he wasn't even sure he wanted to know what it was.
"Him!" Ardyn growled. "It was him all along!"
And then he… disappeared in his usual magic haze.
Ravus scowled, waiting and then looking around for any sign of Ardyn's return.
…Well, that had been rather abrupt.
What was the matter with him?
How utterly confusing…
Ravus didn't understand how Lunafreya mentally kept up with that daemon. He was all over the place.
It was a wonder she hadn't tripped over some word that set him off and made him blow up the city.
And Ravus also had to wonder… just how forgiving was his sister going to be this time around? She'd forgiven far worse, of course, but this was closer to home.
She'd been so set on bringing Ardyn some form of peace before the end. Was that going to stick after this?
Lunafreya's patience and kindness had always been a blessing, and Ignis had never been more thankful for it than now.
No matter how many times he drifted off or had to pause to give his voice a rest, she would simply wait for him to be ready again. No words needed. She had her pen and paper ready as soon as she noticed he was making eye contact with her again.
Except… except this time, something was wrong…
This time when he opened his eyes, he wasn't seeing her…
The blur of blond was… off somehow, yet no less familiar. And… the room was bright. Very bright. There was sunlight…
In fact, they were in no room at all. Ignis could see the leaves of a tree above him.
What…
"You look exhausted, my love."
Oh, bloody hell…
This again. And this time… there would be no hiding from Ardyn.
Even if Ignis managed to find the strength to roll off the bed and hide under it or something, Ardyn was no fool. He would figure it out.
Ignis tried to blink the memory away, shaking his head so hard that he grew nauseated.
By the Six, this poison had warped time so much he could hardly remember what clarity felt like.
He wasn't sure if he lost consciousness again or not, but suddenly the sunlight was gone and he was back staring at the plain hospital ceiling.
…The sunlight. That had been the first time he'd seen those glorious and precious rays in half a decade and he hadn't even thought to enjoy it…
A chill rippled up Ignis' spine, and knew his little particular… connection to Ardyn had finally been discovered.
The room was still. Too still. No noises from outside the door. No heart monitor beeping close by. Lunafreya was frozen in place, not a single hair shifting or breath taken.
There was only person who could do this, Ignis of course knew… but that didn't make him any more mentally prepared for Ardyn stepping out of his usual cloud of magic at the foot of the bed.
The anger on Ardyn's face was vividly apparent. "You."
Ignis scrambled back as far as he could on the bed, pressing his back into the wall. Not good. Oh, so very not good.
"All this time it's been you toying with my memories!" Ardyn growled.
"Believe you me… none of it was intentional." Ignis swallowed. He knew Ardyn probably wouldn't care. Intention wouldn't quell this monster's anger. Ardyn held grudges against people who were generations descended from those who had wronged him. What was intent to a mind like that?
But Ardyn's expression just shifted to… befuddlement. "But how?"
…He was asking him? Why on Eos would he have the answers?
Ignis dug his fingers into the bed, not lowering his guard one bit. "Evidently my condition and your meddling with my free will had some unintended reverse effects."
And the anger was back. "I don't care for your condescending tone."
"I don't care for you," Ignis spat back.
Oh, sweet Shiva, where was his head? He had to get himself under control before provoking some reaction with irreparable damage. This wasn't even prodding a daemon with a sharp stick, this was prodding ten-thousand.
Ardyn continued to glower – an ever-dangerous glint behind his eyes. "You know… I was quite resigned to the prophecy. I had accepted my fate."
What? Where had that come from? And where was Ardyn going with it?
"But then you jumped off a cliff and I was given the fleeting hope that matters might be able to be altered."
Ignis tried to drag the finer details of the prophecy to the forefront of his mind. The Astrals themselves had told him he still had a key role to play, but Ardyn hadn't been there for that.
"And I was really starting to take to the idea." Ardyn made a sweeping gesture towards Ignis. "Yet here you are, locking all our fates into place once more."
What did he want, an apology?
"I fail to see what you want me to do about it," Ignis responded finally. "I didn't write the bloody thing." He no more wanted the prophecy to be true than Ardyn. In fact, he would have been just fine letting Ardyn die to end the Scourge instead of Noct, his tragic background be damned. Nothing justified what he'd done.
"No…" Ardyn admitted. "But you are a part of it none the less."
…What was that tone? That thought-provoked look?
"And?" Ignis rasped. His body was already hating him for being awake this long again.
"And just because you didn't die before doesn't mean you won't."
Ignis tightened his grip. He did not like that. He did not like that one bit. That sounded like a bloody threat–
He jerked as Ardyn warped forwards, locking one firm hand around his already abused throat. He tried to instinctively grab at the hand, but his arms wouldn't move.
Tears welled in the corners of his eyes from the pressure, but he could do nothing to fight back. He could barely even thrash with Ardyn's control over him.
"What if you were to truly fall now?" Ardyn hissed into his ear. "Where would that leave the Astrals' precious prophecy then?"
Ignis choked.
Not like this. He was still needed.
His friends needed him. They deserved an explanation for all the pain he'd caused them, and the last thing he wanted was to cause that pain again.
Noct needed him. Even if he couldn't save him, he could still be there for him when the time came.
Dear Astrals, if he had to die, not like this. He still had a role to play.
But Ardyn wasn't letting up, and he couldn't breathe. His hands could only twitch at his sides as spots collected around the edges of his vision and began to spiral in.
Not like this.
Please.
—
