Once his family was blocked off from sight, he turned to face forward in his seat and steeled himself for what was to come.
"How did your family take the news, Clarus?" Weskham asked after several moments of growing silence.
"I didn't tell them," Clarus said.
It might have made for an easier parting—for them, in any case. But Regis could never have brought himself to do so. Not after allowing Crea behind the veil and admitting to himself that Reina was no longer a child to be protected. In this they were partners, as they needed to be.
No one pressed Clarus further than that, accepting his personal judgement in grim silence.
"Is it really so likely that we will fail?" Cor asked. "We have five Astrals on our side."
And two surviving Caelums, along with the Ring of the Lucii—though the later contained less power than it would have if wielded by the Chosen King after all his ancestors were entombed within. Nevertheless, it was no small army they brought to stand against the Draconian.
"No," Regis said, drawing himself up and gathering up the shreds of his dignity and confidence, which he had thus far neglected. "It is not likely that we will fail as a whole. But it is not unlikely that mortals in a battle of Gods will fall nevertheless. I might have requested you all remain behind on that account, but I know none of you would ever stand for it."
"Damn straight we wouldn't," Cid said.
"Indeed," said Clarus. "Your trials are ours, as they always have been."
"Never was one to back down from a challenge to my king," Cor said.
"In any case, Sire," Weskham said, "You would never be able to find your way without us."
Regis smiled. "There is truth in that. The last time I faced an Astral without you at my side, I lost my crown somewhere over Insomnia."
"I have been informed that it dropped into downtown," Weskham said. "The sheer distance of the fall drove it into the pavement, where it remains still. It might be prised out, but I hear it's been gathering quite a number of visitors in the days since then."
"Truly?" Asked Regis. "I am surprised it did not shatter. Let them keep it. Perhaps on our return, I shall have a new one commissioned. I daresay it would be scuffed beyond recognition if it were dug out."
"All the more reason to wear it," Cid said. "It'll match."
"Come now, Cid. I like to think of His Majesty as 'well-loved', not 'scuffed beyond recognition,'" Weskham said.
"He might be, by the time we're through with him," Cid said.
"Then perhaps you would be so kind as to give me a fine polish and set me on a shelf to live out the rest of my days as a relic of a bygone era," Regis said, "After this is over."
"Might just do that," said Cid.
"Just be sure you send someone along to dust me off now and then."
All things considered, it seemed a peaceful fate.
The dark cloud that had hung over their departure seemed to break and scatter in the wind of good company and cheeky banter. It was not so different from their departure from Insomnia oh so many years ago, though their destination had been Altissia rather than Angelgard in those days and not nearly so much had been riding on their treaty with Accordo as it did on his treaty with the Astrals. Nevertheless, it was simpler to focus on what he had than what he did not: a car full of his brothers, the might of the Lucii, and the will of the Five behind him.
They would win.
They had to win.
"So. Where are we going?" Cor asked.
"To Angelgard," Regis said. "By way of the south eastern cape."
"I thought that place was impossible to reach," said Cor.
"It is," Regis said. "Or very nearly, if you are restricted by mortal means of transportation. Thankfully, we are not."
Cid grunted. "Some reason you want to fight him there, or you just feeling poetic? Isle of the Gods and all that."
"Come now, Cid," Clarus said. "By now you should know that everything Regis does is for poetry and show."
Regis cleared his throat and stepped past that remark without comment. "The reasons are twofold: firstly, we must summon the Draconian to the physical world, which is easier to do in a location that has strong ties to his own plane. I know not whether he will come to meet us willingly in battle, but if not it should be all but impossible to force him to become manifest outside of Angelgard. Secondly, for the simple reason of its accessibility to all others. I should not like for a battle between gods to draw civilians into the conflict. Collateral damage will be minimized if the battle occurs off Lucis' shores."
His answer seemed to satisfy even Cid, and no one thought of any wry remarks to color it with. The rest of the drive was completed in alternating companionable silence and teasing conversation. Though the niggling of reality underlied it all, they buried it deep. It did none of them any good to focus on.
They cut across the now-dry countryside of Leide and made for the southern peninsula. Though there was no port to set sail from, they had no need of boats to reach Angelgard. Indeed, any attempt to use one would have been folly and the presence of so many people at Galdin Quay would draw unwanted attention. Better to leave as quietly as possible.
Quietly. As if no one would notice the passing of five Astrals across the Allural Deep.
Weskham parked the car on the coast, and they poured out to stand on the rocky slopes overlooking the sea. They had long since left behind both roads and civilization. No trails led to this portion of Lucis, save the ones they made themselves. With any luck, it would mean their departure had no audience.
"Now what?" Cor stood with one foot braced on a boulder, staring down the sheer drop to the water, then out toward the rocky isle on the horizon. "We're not swimming from here."
"We are not swimming at all," Regis said. Doubtless they would drown if they tried. "We shall, instead, trust in the strength of the Astrals to bear us forth."
He reached out for the strands that bound five of the Six to him. They hung on his power alone, beholden to him.
The time has come, he told them, For the Draconian to meet his fate. Come to me.
He felt their assent, wordless, before the surge of power—five times that of any previous awakening he had witnessed, and yet somehow not so painful as any of them. He stood now, the stone around which the raging river rushed, the mountain that guided the surge of lava, as all five Astrals became manifest once more.
Leviathan burst from the sea. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked, leaving Ramuh in its wake. The earth itself opened to admit Titan. A blaze of fire revealed Ifrit. And on a burst of cold wind, a blizzard blew Shiva into their midst.
Last but not least, came a swirl of dark energy, from which Ardyn materialized.
"Don't tell me you were planning to leave without me."
"No," Regis said. "I merely assumed you would arrive, invitation or no."
With them, but not manifest, were one hundred and twelve kings of old, their power combined on Regis' finger. Despite that, it almost seemed as if one other stood among them, an ethereal shadow of the past and only visible from an off angle. The soul of Somnus stood at his brother's side.
Shiva touched down on the earth before them.
"The five united will bear the Father King and companions to the gathering place of gods."
Her lips never moved, but he heard her voice—the same voice she had used as Gentiana—in his ears all the same.
"Then bear us forth," Regis said. "We are ready."
From the calm waters beyond the coast, Leviathan approached, rising high enough from the sea to extend her head toward them. When last they had met, Regis had been airborne and had made a point to keep well out of her reach. To be now within arms length of her was unnerving indeed. Though no more so than the realization that this enormous sea serpent was now entirely within his control.
The Hydraean thrust her head into their midst, but a few inches from the dirt. Her meaning was clear enough. Though Regis had misgivings about climbing atop the scaly back of a serpent, it was difficult to deny the strength of the statement it made.
Ardyn took the first step, ambling up to the Hydraean's head and leaping past her crested brow to climb atop her spined back. Yellow eyes followed him. A low rumbling growl shook in their chests and pounded their skulls, but despite the Astral's displeasure, she did not discard her passenger.
Regis' retinue looked to him. And so it was his part to lead the way. Though he did so warily, with more caution than the situation warranted, somehow someone would later tell the tale of the Father King climbing atop the Hydraean as if it were some heroic deed. When they did, he hoped they left out the bit where his foot slipped on wet scales and Ardyn was forced to catch his arm and haul him up to Leviathan's back, where he could square his feet and hold tight to her spines.
The others followed, one by one, with varying degrees of grace. Cid complained the whole way up and had to be half dragged by Clarus. Weskham picked each step with slow care and never once faltered. Cor took a running start and leapt and climbed in parts until all six of them stretched across the back of Leviathan's head and neck.
And the Hydraean moved.
At the first lurch of motion they all scrambled for purchase, discovering that the back of a sea serpent was not even as vaguely stable as they might initially have thought. The whole surface on which they stood twisted and shifted beneath their feet. In moments they were diving toward the waves, clinging to the spines of the Hydraean's back. Though Regis braced for impact, they did not break the surface of the water but skimmed across the top.
Behind them, the full length of Leviathan rose to the surface of the ocean and stretched out across the waves. She was gargantuan. Whereas before, he had only seen what portion of her had risen from the sea to tower over Insomnia, he now stared down the finned back as it slithered across the waves and judged that it stretched for miles.
He caught Clarus' eye and found a look just as dumbstruck as the one he must have worn himself. He cast Clarus a lopsided grin.
"Never thought we'd charge into battle on the back of a sea serpent, eh, Clarus?"
"Never thought we'd rush to meet an Astral atop another, no." Clarus met his grin with a reproving glare. It didn't last. In another moment it broke to a smile and he reached out to clasp Regis' shoulder. "This too we will weather."
"And return with your wife none the wiser."
Clarus winced. "Perhaps I ought have told her."
"One of these days she'll kill you for not getting killed," Regis said.
"Enough prattle, mortals. Thy destination draws near." In his ears, Leviathan's voice sounded an unintelligible roar. But just as before, his mind made sense of the sounds. "The waters calm for thy passing. Prepare thyselves for landing."
"What did she say?" Clarus asked.
"She said shut up and hold on tight!"
Clarus shot him a suspicious glare, but adjusted his hold on Leviathan's spines all the same. Weskham laughed.
The Hydraean's back was slick with sea water and his shoes wetted by the waves, but he squared his feet all the same and wrapped both arms around the nearest spine. Sure enough, the twisted shape of Angelgard drew rapidly closer as Leviathan cut through the waves. In moments they were upon it, but Regis saw no hint of the tumultuous waves that were meant to keep mortals at bay. He did see hints of their presence, however—the remains of half a dozen vessels were splintered along the rocky shore. How many others lay below?
"I thought it was meant to be difficult to reach," Cor said.
"It is. Look yonder." Weskham pointed. Twenty feet away, out of their course, the waves rose in white tips and crashed against Angelgard. Any vessel caught by those would be dashed upon the shores.
"The Hydraean holds the sea in check," Regis said. "Now take her advice and hold on tight!"
Not a moment later, Leviathan's whole form shifted beneath them. Her tail plunged into the dark waters while her upper body rose up. To see Angelgard from afar was nothing like watching it drop away beneath them as they lifted a hundred feet in the air on an Astral's back. From here the island looked as if it were cupped by rocky fingers. In the center lay flat ground—a ring surrounded by eternal blue flames and marked my ancient swords, some rusted beyond recognition. How long had this place remained here untouched? Since Ardyn's days? Before?
"A fitting place for a battle," Ardyn noted.
It was. If he hadn't known better, Regis might have said it had been designed as an arena.
"I hope you are not unnerved by a return to this place of imprisonment," Regis said.
"Unnerved? Me? Perish the thought, Nephew. I'm the one who does the unnerving."
Leviathan paused, holding them aloft as the other Astrals gathered around the island. Regis was beginning to feel as if he had brought mortals to a fight between gods. He cast his eyes back along the line of them. His friends. As if they would have stood anywhere but at his side.
Regis shifted his hold on Leviathan's spine and inched forward across her back until he stood atop her head.
"Lower us," he said. "And let the Draconian come before us."
The Hydraean growled, but did as he bade. Perhaps it rankled to take commands from a mere mortal. Perhaps she ought to have thought of that before chaining herself to the Starscourge.
Once her head was near enough to the ground, Regis leapt off. The others scrambled or slid after, finding their own portion of the Hydraean's back at a rather less favorable angle. When all six of them stood in the center of the arena with five Astrals gathered around, Regis reached at last for the power to call Bahamut.
It wasn't until he reached that he realized it was gone.
Along with his connection to the crystal, Bahamut had severed his connection to the divine—save those bonds the Astrals had built individually—and therefore his ability to even reach for the Draconian.
"Allow me, Nephew." Ardyn laid a hand on his shoulder. Through their contact, he felt as Ardyn reached out for Bahamut—not through some divine connection to the crystal, but through the Starscourge. For the Draconian was bound to his creation. And Ardyn was at its heart.
With a great lurch of power, Ardyn dragged the Draconian into physical being through his own mistake. The awakening of the Draconian crashed over them, nearly sending Regis to his knees. If Ramuh's presence had been lightning striking before him, Bahamut's was the whole sky splitting open to admit a presence greater than Eos itself.
On wings of blades he dove from the sky, passing by them once and turning a circle when he found himself contained in a ring of his fellows. Fury wafted off of him like heat. When he dropped into their midst, it sent them scattering and reeling as the world shook beneath the weight of the Draconian.