Untold Omens
Chapter Three: Web of Lies
Spring M.E. 749
"So, Optimus Lucis Caelum the 108th was the first king that put up the walls around Insomnia." Aracelis muttered under her breath.
With a half-eaten granola bar in one hand, the brunette absently walked through Valetis' busy halls while immersed in Ignis' research notes. She ignored the hustle and bustle around her in favor of the thoughts plaguing her mind.
There was no actual point for her to read these notes when she already found what she was looking for. Yet, it would be a pity to discard the young man's meticulous research. She almost wished there was more significance to all his work rather than simply using it for the sake of buying time.
In her search for answers, Aracelis unwittingly discovered an event that failed to come to pass in this world. Somehow, Prince Noctis never suffered injuries from a marilith that would become the catalyst to trigger his meeting with a number of important individuals in his life. Unless Aracelis can reconnect the prince to his Crownsguard in less than six years' time, the world was on track to an apocalyptic hellhole.
From what she'd seen so far, Prompto was well on his way to becoming friends with Noctis… That is, if the blond took advantage of his chance meeting and actually sought out the prince. Instead, he's taken to calling her randomly throughout the week. She almost regret giving him the option to confide in her. With how nervous the boy was, it might take a while for him to approach Noctis, if he ever decides on his own to do so on his own.
…Maybe she could get Gladio involved somehow and kill two birds with one stone, but she hasn't thought of a good excuse to get the muscle-headed Amicitia on board. Not that either of them was a major concern at this point. They've already made contact with Noctis, unlike Ignis who hasn't even met the prince, much less spoken to him. She needed to find an opportunity for them to meet sooner rather than later.
"…Is that all you ever eat?" Ignis trailed after her at a leisure pace.
"Hm?" Aracelis glanced up from his notes, suddenly remembering his quiet presence. This was the first time Ignis has actually spoken to her since she requested for his assistance.
"I've watched you eat nothing but granola bars for the last several days," noted the bespectacled teen. "Do you eat nothing else?"
"…Only when I'm busy," replied Aracelis as she eyed her bar of dry berries, oats and nuts. She lost count of how many of these she's eaten. She estimated it to be at least a bulk-sized box every two weeks or so. "It's convenient."
"It's hardly healthy." His brows furrowed with a frown. "Why not bring your own lunch?"
"Can't cook," admitted the brunette as she turned to face him. "And sandwiches aren't worth the effort to make when a granola bar has about the same nutritional value."
"I… see…" Ignis murmured quietly.
"By the way," Aracelis stopped in the middle of the hall lifting his notes for emphasis. At her abrupt stop, the students fumbled to redirect themselves to walk around her. "This is very well done. Have you ever thought about applying for a job as the prince's advisor?"
"…This is the second time you're suggesting I work for the crown." He noted inquisitively, politely stepping aside for their fellow students. "May I ask why?"
"Um…" Aracelis feigned a cough to buy time to come up with an excuse. It was her fault for not segueing into it better. "You… just seem like you'd fit the role very well. It's a waste to have your talents used for anything less."
"Like researching for you?" mused Ignis.
"That's for the benefit of the king and prince," countered Aracelis. "It's our civic duty!"
"You're oddly patriotic," he commented softly.
Aracelis opened her mouth to retort, but found herself unable to come up with an intelligent response. It does look strange for her to be so active about helping the crown when she had no obvious reason to, especially at her young age. However, it doesn't change the fact Ignis was slowly losing interest. Despite her attempts to show investment, she could detect his awareness of her disinterest in the material.
With a sigh, the brunette lowered the notes to look him straight in the eye.
"…How about I get you some coffee?" Aracelis offered, followed by a quick explanation. "For helping me with this."
"Oh…" Ignis blinked in surprise before shrugging.
The two eventually made their way to the crowded cafeteria where students were waiting on line for their order or mingling with their peers. Ignis broke off to find seats for them, while Aracelis waited in line.
In the time she waited for the drinks and took them back to Ignis, she failed to come up with a reasonable request to keep associating with the other teen. Her mind remained unfortunately blank as she handed the bespectacled teen the saucer and cup of coffee.
"So…" started Aracelis, her hands nursing the warm porcelain cup. Since neither of them were socially adept, they quickly fell into a pall of silence the moment they sat down together. "I don't think we found the answer."
"I'm not sure if there ever was an answer to be found," replied Ignis evenly.
"Look…" The freckled-face brunette stared down at her drink as she began her lie. "All I know is that there definitely is something very wrong with the king and the prince!"
Aracelis pressed this angle, insisting on the plan of setting Ignis on another research endeavor.
"It's probably not genetic as I initially assumed. I approached you for your superior research skills, but it's obvious you don't believe my theory. "
"…Is that so?" Ignis eyed her skeptically. He raised his cup from its saucer and blew the steam from his drink, gaze resting on her as he took a tender sip.
"See, you don't believe me." Aracelis huffed, looking away. The contents of her cup are several shades paler than the bold brew she had gotten Ignis.
"How are you so convinced? Lethargy alone is hardly evidence."
"It's…" Aracelis paused.
Her thumb brushed against the handle as she thought over her next words. If she wanted him to believe her, the matter would have to affect more than the royal family. It would have to affect the public as well. What would be a big enough issue that could start small and then spread?
She thought back to Noctis in hopes of coming up with something from her memory. However, all that came to mind was the prince fanboying over video games, carefree and oblivious to her plight. This reminded her of playing at the arcade, slaughtering zombies by the hundreds.
…Wait, zombies?
Aracelis' brows furrowed as she curled a fist against her lips. A zombie apocalypse would be too much of a stretch, but an epidemic of a similar caliber might just be a good enough excuse. What kind of epidemic was there in Eos that'd be big enough to cause concern and hasn't had a proper cure yet?
"…Not lethargy, but something slow acting that eats away at the body enough to be mistaken for it," mumbled Aracelis under her breath as she tried to reason out the possibilities. "Something with the potential to worsen over time until it's too late."
"Something that eats away at the body over time?" repeated Ignis thoughtfully. "That sounds awfully like…"
"Starscourge," whispered Aracelis.
"In the city?" frowned Ignis. "Is that even possible?"
"… I don't know," admitted the brunette. "How does starscourge get transmitted anyhow?"
Inwardly, she did her best to hide her elation at the unexpected crack shot in the dark. It was a miracle she managed to come up with such an arbitrary excuse. Hopefully, the research would take longer compared to the Lucian Kings and she won't have to come up with another wild goose chase for the young man.
"I suppose we'll have to find out," noted Ignis pensively.
"Indeed," murmured Aracelis behind her cup. Lying was far from her forte and she did not look forward to doing it again.
The dark night sky was clear through the vast windows within the Citadel training hall. Gladio kept a firm stance as he blocked blow after blow from the dark haired prince. For once, the prince hadn't attempted to skive off from training.
The Amicitia heir scowled as he darted forward and disarmed Noctis through a decisive blow. The wooden sword flew out of the younger teen's hand as he was knocked to the ground.
"You can do better than that," grunted Gladio, displeased by the glaring openings in their last exchange. It was as if the boy wasn't even trying to improve.
Noctis said nothing as he pushed himself up to retrieve his wooden sword. The two of them resumed the starting stance before the young prince darted forward again. Two parries in and the boy found himself knocked to the ground once more.
"Again." Gladio towered over a beaten prince, wooden training sword slung over his shoulder.
"No." Noctis pushed himself off the ground and began unhooking the safety gear off his person. "It's dinnertime."
Disappointment filled Gladio as the boy ignored any further attempts to get him back for more training. The young prince left the room without another word. This was a common occurrence for how their sessions typically end. It drove him mad to see such lackluster behaviour from the boy that was to become his king.
There was little he could do beyond what he was already doing. It had been this way since he started working full-time as Crownsguard.
From a young age, he understood his future was to be the shield for the prince once King Regis passed. Unlike other children, Gladio was privately tutored and sped through the typical school curriculum so he could take on Crownsguard duties earlier, much like his father at his age. Beyond training the prince and his various duties, there was little else for him to do.
He will have to try again tomorrow during their next training session. Perseverance was all he could rely on nowadays to continue to push forward. He was an Amicitia after all, Gladio reminded himself when he began to make his way home.
Strolling through the darkened halls of the Amicitia estate, he knew full well that his little sister was most likely tucked into bed for the night and his father still at the Citadel with King Regis. He's come to expect the house to be empty by the time he got home from his shift.
Clack, Clack, Clack!
At the sound of furious typing coming from Jared's office, Gladio paused then backtracked. It was a bit late for the old chamberlain to still be here in his office. When he peeked into the dimly lit room, he was pleasantly surprised to see Aracelis alternating between reading paper ledgers and transcribing its content onto her laptop.
Hair frayed and brows furrowed, he recognized the glaring signs of stress on his childhood friend. How could he not when they practically grew up together? She was about the only person he knew close to his own age.
"You look stressed." Gladio rested an arm at the door frame as he made his presence known.
Aracelis looked up in surprise, exhaustion clear on her face. She broke away from her screen for a break and pinched the bridge of her nose to release built up tension.
"You're back." Aracelis sighed, allowing herself to sink into her grandfather's plush office chair. "…It's been a long day. How was Crownsguard duty?"
"Same as always." He answered flatly.
"The prince still being a little shit?" Aracelis noted in dry amusement as she hugged one arm around herself and leaned into the chair's armrest.
"When is he not?" Gladio as he rolled his eyes, drawing a chuckle from the younger girl.
"Maybe he'll grow out of it one of these days." She humored.
"If only." He scoffed. "The brat is lazy as ever."
"He's still young." Aracelis flapped a dismissive hand, using that opportunity to prop her elbow on the armrest and rest her cheek against her knuckles. "There's still time for him to mature."
"You definitely have high hopes for him." He took note of the yawn Aracelis bit back as she maneuvered a hand over her mouth.
"I just—"
Ring, Ring!
At the sudden interruption, Aracelis shifted from her comfortable position to grab her phone on the desk. Gladio frowned. It wasn't like her to receive calls so late in the evening. For all he knew, the girl didn't really have many friends either. Who in the world would call her at this hour?
Gladio watched with growing uncertainty as a dark look crossed her face. An annoyed grumble, akin to a curse was muttered under her breath. Whoever the person was on the other side of the phone definitely wasn't someone Aracelis viewed highly.
"Prompto." A threatening tone tinged her voice as she answered the call. "I swear if you're in the hospital again because you got hit by another car I will murder you."
Again?
Gladio's eyes widened, his curiosity piqued by her words. How often did this person get hit by a car to incite such a response? He watched Aracelis fall silent as the other side continued to speak.
"…You reckless idiot. Stay where you are, I'm coming." The brunette hung up, rising from her seat not allowing the other to get another word in. "I'm heading out."
"At this hour?" The Amicitia frowned. "Who is this?"
"A hopeless idiot I nearly ran over a while back," grumbled the girl as she hastily packed away her things.
"You nearly what?" Gladio gapped in disbelief.
"Honestly! If it's not one thing, it's another with that boy," declared Aracelis swinging her bag over her shoulder to storm out of the room. "I'm surprised he's managed to stay alive up to this point."
"Wait, wait, wait!" shouted Gladio, stopping her from leaving. "You're going to see him now?"
"Gladio, if you're worried, don't be! At this point, Prompto is a bigger hazard to himself than anyone else," groused Aracelis. "I'm going to wring his neck. He hasn't even recovered yet and he goes off over-exerting himself to the point that he can't even walk home."
"Arie, I'm coming with you," insisted Gladio, his grip tightening on her shoulder to keep her from storming off.
"Fine, you overbearing, muscle-headed—"
Gladio tuned out the rest of Aracelis' incessant rambling as he followed her to the car. Over the years, he's grown unfazed to her slight. It was almost akin to an endearment between them by this point… Much like her degraded driving skills when she's stressed out with worry.
"Slow down," snapped Gladio, his hand gripped on the handle above his head. He was certain she hit nearly every dip and pothole as she steadily sped through the city.
By the time they arrived, Gladio was certain he left a permanent handprint on the handle bar from gripping so tightly. Out the window, he spotted a chubby blond kid seated on the stone barrier that separates the park from the pedestrian sidewalk and the main road. Aracelis unbuckled herself, darting from the car slamming her door as she went.
The younger boy awkwardly raised a hand to greet her, but grimaced at the scolding to follow. Gladio couldn't hear what was being said with the windows closed, but he almost felt bad for the blond. Aracelis wasn't exactly the warmest when it came to showing concern for others.
The kid—Prompto, he recalled Aracelis calling him earlier—was probably the least intimidating individual he has ever seen. Chubby, abashed and covered in bandages, the boy was as Aracelis claimed, a hazard more to himself than to anyone else. A sheepish grin crossed the blond teen's face as he tried to calm her ire, but she would have none of it. Prompto dipped his head down to twiddle his fingers.
Thinking the kid had suffered enough under Aracelis' no doubt harsh chastising, Gladio decided to leave the car and save him from further abuse. Prompto clearly doesn't look capable of having any untoward intentions against the brunette and Aracelis seemed to be genuinely concerned for the boy.
"Arie." Gladio called out as he approached them.
Prompto nearly yelped in surprise at the sight of the Amicitia, but quickly silenced himself before he could say something potentially offensive.
"Oh good, you're here." Aracelis absently thumbed a finger at the blond. "Can you carry him to the car? The idiot can't walk."
"What!" Prompto squeaked as he glanced between her and Gladio.
"Fine, but I'm driving."
"What? Why?" Aracelis frowned.
"Because you're a horrible driver when you're stressed."
"I am not!" protested the brunette, glaring at her friend.
"Then you can carry blondie yourself." Gladio crossed his arms.
"You don't have to carry me!" protested Prompto weakly. "I mean… I can—"
"If you could walk, you wouldn't have called me." Aracelis haughtily dismissed him, annoyed to agree with Gladio's reasoning. "I'll get the navigation ready, Gladio. Just get him into the car."
"You're the boss," chuckled the Amicitia heir as he obediently moved to haul up Prompto. "Up we go blondie."
"Eep!" Prompto clutched onto Gladio's arm in surprise. The bigger teen picked him up bridal style and carried him to the backseat.
"Buckle up Prompto," commanded the brunette, pulling up his address on the navigation.
A wry grin tugged at Gladio's lips when Prompto scrambled to do as he was told. Aracelis had a way with telling others what to do and generally people would more or less listen. He shook his head in amusement, making his way into the driver's side. With a few adjustments to the seat and the mirror, he glanced to the navigation briefly before driving off.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Prompto through the rearview mirror, visibly uncomfortable in the back seat. The blond chose to remain silent, as unobtrusive as possible. Aracelis, on the other hand, drummed her fingers absentmindedly against the door while deep in thought. She seemed less agitated compared to when they were still back in Jared's office, but she was still far from relieved.
Which meant, while Prompto wasn't the source of her stress, he must be adding to it. The thought didn't sit well with Gladio, he didn't like seeing his friend wracked with worry. Prompto seemed like an easy enough task for him to remedy.
"Arie, why don't you stay in the car? I'll take the kid inside," suggested Gladio once he parked in front of the blond's house.
"If you're offering, I'm not going to complain." Aracelis agreed, turning to the anxious boy seated in the back. "If the muscle-head threatens you with something ridiculous, just call me. If I don't hear from you, I will come and check on you to make sure he didn't kill you. Okay?"
"Ah… um… okay?" murmured Prompto, nervously shifting and too terrified to look either of them in the eye. Had he looked, he would've seen Gladio rolling his eyes before he got out of the car to retrieve the blond.
"Come on kid, say goodnight to Arie," said the Amicitia heir dryly.
Prompto's body went completely stiff when the older teen hauled him out of the car over his shoulder like a sack of leiden potatoes.
"Night," repeated Prompto obediently before being hauled to his house.
"Prompto, right?" started Gladio once they were a good distance away from the car.
"I'm sorry!" Prompto's sudden shout startled the older teen. "You're Aracelis' boyfriend right? I didn't mean anything by calling her at this hour! I was in trouble and I didn't know who else to call and—"
"Her boyfriend?" Gladio snorted, followed by a bellowing laugh. "You better not let her hear that or she might kill you herself."
"So… you're not?" asked Prompto in confusion.
"Nah, just a concerned friend." Gladio chuckled, unknowingly asking the same question Aracelis had asked the boy once before. "Speaking of which, why don't you have anyone else besides Arie to contact for help? Where are your parents?"
"Ah… they're away right now." Prompto answered sheepishly. "Arie insisted I call her if I needed help."
"Is that so?" murmured Gladio as he reached the door. "Listen, you seem like a good kid, but you can't call her every single time you need something. She has a life of her own too you know."
"…Sorry," apologized Prompto, staring down at the ground. "I didn't realize I was being a bother. I… um… I'll try not to call her anymore."
At the sight of the dejected and guilt-ridden blond hanging over his shoulder, Gladio clicked his tongue, ruffling the back of his head in frustration. The kid wasn't getting it. There had to be something he could do to fix this.
"Hey!" Gladio lit up in realization. "How about I train you to be a bit more self-sufficient? This way you don't need to call her as much."
"Huh?" squeaked Prompto in surprise as he looked up to the older teen once more.
"You're obviously trying to train yourself for something and overdid it. Otherwise you wouldn't need to call Aracelis in the first place." He reasoned. "If you want, I can give you pointers and training when I have free time."
"Really? You'd do that for me?" asked the blond in childlike amazement.
"Sure, why not," shrugged Gladio with a cool grin. "In return, you stop giving Aracelis random heart attacks like getting hit by cars."
"She told you about that, huh?" Prompto flushed red.
"First thing I heard her say the moment she picked up your call," chuckled Gladio. "So, how about it? Are you up for it?"
"… Yeah!" nodded Prompto enthusiastically. The previous fear displayed, all but melted away as he looked up at Gladio in a new light.
"Good, now where are your keys?" asked Gladio bluntly, holding out his hand.
The blond awkwardly wiggled in the Amicitia heir's hold, rummaging for the keys the older teen requested. Gladio made quick work dropping him on the couch before trading numbers. With a promise that he'll contact Prompto, he made his way back to the car to find Aracelis asleep in the passenger seat.
He was right to have come along. Even in sleep, her brows were knitted with worry. Gladio made note to check his schedule once he got home to make sure he could keep Prompto occupied long enough to give her a break.
A quiet sizzling hiss filled the kitchen, followed by the gentle scraping from a spatula. Ever since the passing of his parents, cooking has become a comforting routine for Ignis under his uncle's care. Though, the word care was something he would use loosely. Beyond supplying him with the appropriate funds to buy what he needed to survive, he seldom saw his uncle. The man was constantly busy at the Citadel.
The only other thing the older Scientia ever got involved with in his life was his placement in the Valetis Institute, an academy for nobles whose parents worked for the Crown. While admission to the school appeared to be open to all, it had a stringent vetting process. In all of its history, no one of unknown background has ever been accepted. Due to this tradition of nepotism, any student who attended was more or less guaranteed a job at the Citadel upon graduation.
Click, Slam!
"…Uncle?" Ignis called out towards the foyer.
"It's me," confirmed the older Scientia.
With a nod to himself, he finished up his cooking. The relationship between him and his uncle was tenuous at best. They seemed more like reluctant roommates than uncle and nephew. While Pyralis Scientia was not a cruel man, he was far from the affectionate sort. After all, he never intended to start a family of his own prior to gaining custody of Ignis.
"It's rather late, are you preparing lunch for tomorrow?" Pyralis asked, loosening his tie as he made his way to the open kitchen and living space.
"Yes." Ignis nodded before asking as an afterthought. "Have you eaten yet? I can make extra."
"No, I've eaten already," replied the man dismissively. "Do what you need to do. I trust your studies are going well?"
"Nothing I can't handle," replied the bespectacled teen almost mechanically.
It was a rare occasion that Ignis and his uncle find themselves in each other's presence, yet they shared nearly the same conversation every single time. Bland, generic questions that they both knew the answers to, but felt obligated to ask anyway. Thinking back to his conversations with Aracelis, it was almost the same with the brunette, but with less obligatory exchanges.
"Well, don't stay up too late," finished the elder Scientia before making his way to his room.
"Good night uncle," bid Ignis, watching the man go.
He looked at the cooling food and started to pile it neatly into a glass container. It was the same routine day in and day out. If he wasn't at school, he was home preparing for school. Cooking was probably the extent of his hobbies his fellows would be willing to believe. He was the best in his class, but this also made it hard to talk to any of his peers.
It seemed that his classmates thought him to be elusive and perhaps even too exceptional. If the unusual rivalry between Marcus Flavius and Aracelis was anything to go by, he was imperceptible in the eyes of others. Despite having scored the highest in their year, the redhead seemed fixated on challenging the brunette for second place rather than going after Ignis for first. He recalled the uninspired look on the girl when she noted the other teen had declared the wrong person as his rival and pointed to Ignis instead.
…Speaking of the girl, she was a rather odd one. He wasn't sure what to make of her when she approached him all those weeks ago for research assistance. He concurred, the topic was interesting enough at the time to agree, but she made little sense during their exchanges. He's half-convinced the girl is a conspiracy theorist, albeit one that leans toward patriotism rather than anti-authority.
With the influx of immigrants from the outlying territories of Lucis coming to Insomnia, sporadic bouts of unrest rose up from various parts of the city. Many of the city's natives feared the worst from the Crown, suggesting the king would strip the comforts from his "true citizens" for these supposed "outsiders", even though they too were citizens of Lucis. On the other hand, Aracelis' brand of conspiracies went in the other direction. Even stranger to him was her insistence that he should work as the prince's advisor.
Oddness aside, the research topics she brought up were all interesting in their own right. Even if they amount to nothing but conspiracies, it was still an interesting read compared to his usual coursework.
He supposes he could continue to indulge the unhinged girl, until she gets bored and decides to leave him alone. He finished packing away his lunch, calling it a night.
…What he didn't realize was the extent of the girl's dedication to her insanity.
"Coffee?" Aracelis offered the next day during their shared break.
Ever since he agreed to continue researching for her, the brunette made a point to find him in the courtyard during their lunch period. Despite her previous claims of ordering food and waiting on line as a waste of time, she always made sure to order coffee for him. All the while maintaining her unhealthy diet of water and granola bars.
"…Thank you." Ignis accepted quietly, uncertain as to how else to respond to the offer.
At first, the brunette confused him immensely as she would abruptly leave after providing him the caffeinated beverage. However, as the days went by, he realized this was because she was just as inept when it came to striking up conversation. Even so, she did seem grateful that he was continually humoring her conspiracies.
Perhaps it could be interesting to keep indulging her.