Untold Omens
Chapter Eight: Goody Two-Shoes
5:00 AM
Gladio found himself staring vacantly at his ceiling. Normally, he would be up and about preparing for Crownsguard duties. But today? He was no longer in Crownsguard. There was no point in getting up early.
He considered staying in bed all day since he had nothing better to do. Except… he was wide awake and restless. So, without a second thought, he got up and started his morning workout routine. Pushups, pull ups, handstands and the like were all done in succession one after another. Apart from his steady breathing no other sound disturbed the morning silence in his room.
By the time he was done a sheen of sweat accumulated over his body. Dawn broke and the sound of birds chirping could be heard outside his window. He spared a glance out when passing by his chair to pick up a towel. From a young age, he and Aracelis both realized his room overlooked hers. Neither of them could see much into each other's room due to the angle of their windows, but they could glean enough to know whether the other was present.
Gladio paused when he noticed something different. The giant teddy bear that usually sat at the ledge was missing. Long ago, Aracelis had taken to positioning the bear randomly in an attempt to convince him that it was alive. It was her childish attempt to get back at him for gifting it to her when she didn't want it in the first place.
The memory lingered in his thoughts briefly, but ultimately he dismissed it in favor of washing up after his workout.
6:30 AM
The prince's former shield sat alone at the kitchen counter. His legs wide, back slouched against the seat with one arm draped over the chair's back. His other rested on the counter nursing a cup of coffee as he watched the steam dance above the cup. His father Clarus had already left for the Citadel and it was still far too early for Iris to be awake.
For Gladio to actually sit down and have a full breakfast while leisurely drinking coffee was unheard of. His early Crownsguard duties often left him with only enough time to wolf down a large bowl of oatmeal, a couple of boiled eggs and a protein shake. His heavier meals were usually during lunch or dinner.
The heaviness of his breakfast felt unsettling in his stomach. Gladio kept his downcast eyes on the fading steam from his cup. He tried to think of what to do next, now that he was done with breakfast.
Since he was no longer a Crownsguard, he didn't need to go through his morning patrol route around the Citadel. He could forget about attending the debriefing meetings with the rest of the Crownguards before lunch. He needn't prepare for the prince's daily training regime in the afternoon when the royal brat returned from school. He—Gladio shook his head. Those weren't things that he could do.
What did he normally do during his free time? The Amicitia heir frowned in thought. Apart from training, there was little else he could consider a hobby. There was no time for such things when he was still in Crownsguard. Now that he was essentially fired, he suddenly found himself with more time than he's ever previously had.
"…What do I do?" murmured Gladio, quiet and filled with uncertainty.
"Ah, young master Gladio, good morning." Jared greeted him soberly, walking in from the hall entrance.
"Morning," returned the dark haired teen, sitting up in his seat properly. He glanced to his left when the Amicitia' chamberlain stood next to him beside the counter.
"You look troubled," continued Jared. "If you need someone to talk to, feel free to speak with this doddering old man."
His eyes returned to the steam coming from his cup. Gladio didn't risk facing Jared on the chance the older man reflected any semblance of pity in his eyes.
"I understand nothing I say can make a difference, but fret not young master. You must understand this is merely another setback. Nothing more." Jared reassured.
"A setback?" repeated Gladio in disbelief. "This is far from a setback! I've been trained my whole life to be the brat's shield, but now? I'm not even in Crownsguard and—!"
The angry teen forced himself silent. His nose flared taking a deep breath, amber eyes lit with fury. The only thing he could do to keep himself from losing control and smashing his fist into the counter was to grasp tightly onto his cooling cup of coffee. He won't lose control in front of Jared. He won't embarrass himself even further with what he perceived as his biggest personal failure.
Jared let out a soft sigh, hands folded neatly atop the counter. A wistful expression crossed his face as he glanced to the ceiling thoughtfully.
"The Shield of the Crown is a long standing tradition to the Amicitia line," noted the elderly Hester. "It is a hefty weight to bear. I have witnessed the transitioning of the position from your grandfather to your father Lord Clarus. Trust me when I say I would have been honored to see that role passed onto you."
These facts certainly didn't sit well with Gladio.
Not only did the young Amicitia fail to succeed the pivotal role, but he also miscarried the upkeep of the long standing family line.
"However," interrupted the older man, breaking the former shield out of his descent into self-loathing thoughts. "If the fates decided another path for you, then maybe you're meant for something greater."
The solemn teen frowned in thought.
What could be greater than to devote his life to the crown and prove his worth? All his life, he never considered anything beyond the role of the king's shield. He couldn't dare humor the thought even if it popped to mind. Now? He was no longer bound to the crown.
"Whatever it may be, I have no doubt that you will excel at whatever you do. It may seem bleak now, but you are still very young. Think of this experience not as a failure but as a new opportunity," advised the old man fondly.
"…When you put it that way," murmured Gladio absently. "I guess getting kicked off Crownsguard isn't literally the end of the world."
"The world is a big place young master," chuckled Jared, giving the young Amicitia a reassuring pat on his shoulder. "When one door closes, another opens. You just have to keep an open mind."
"Yeah… I can do that." Gladio agreed, slowly repressing the heaviness he felt earlier. He faced the elderly Hester with an impelled smile. "Thanks for that, Jared. It… sort of helped."
"Any time young master," returned the man before succinctly changing the topic. "Now, I do believe I was supposed to get some coffee before Aracelis finishes up and returns my office."
"…Arie's here?"
"The silly girl insisted she come in this morning to finish up the paperwork left undone yesterday evening," sighed Jared with a fond shake of his head. "I told her it could wait until the weekend, but you know how she is."
"An overachieving perfectionist?" offered Gladio.
"I prefer the term responsible," came Aracelis' clipped response from the kitchen door. "Grandfather, I've completed the paperwork."
"Excellent," complimented Jared. "I was just about to pour some coffee, why don't you stay for a bit before heading off to school?"
"…Sure, I can use the caffeine," murmured the younger girl, stepping further into the kitchen.
At a quick glance, Gladio noticed a severe haggardness in his childhood friend. Aracelis, who was normally sharp-eyed and alert, appeared lackluster and exhausted. The raspy quality to her voice was different from her usual morning grogginess. Her shoulders hung low. Her steps were light and slow. The brunette plopped down in the seat next to him and slouched over the counter, burying her face into her arms.
"You look like shit," commented Gladio.
Aracelis freed up one hand to punch him in the arm. It was weak, lacking the intent to hurt. Gladio scoffed at her half-hearted response.
Yesterday, she left in a hurry after he told her about the prince's assessment. Her strong reaction should have tipped him off that something was wrong, but he didn't think much of it at the time. He reached out to ruffle her hair into a mess.
"Quit it!" growled Aracelis. She swatted his hand away and lifted her head to glare at him.
"Make me," grinned the older teen cheekily.
Annoyed, the brunette moved to grab his wrists, but he easily maneuvered around her and continued to tousle her hair. Her growls became frustrated squeals. Gladio found himself laughing by the time she started kicking his shins to get an upper hand.
"Ah, it's nice to see the two of you get along," commended Jared light-heartedly.
"Grandfather, if you call this getting along, I believe you require glasses more so than I do," retorted Aracelis darkly.
"To be fair, Lord Clarus and Lady Rose were exactly the same way during their courtship," reasoned the old man.
"I fail to see Lord Clarus acting like this buffoon," snarled Aracelis, landing one last kick on the older teen before edging one seat over.
Gladio snickered and purposefully reached out to tease her more, but the younger girl hissed and swatted his hand away. Jared chuckled, pouring two cups of coffee through the exchange. In one cup, he added only a single spoon of sugar; in the other he added ample amounts of both sugar and milk.
"That's because young master Gladio takes after his mother." Jared chuckled. When the elder Hester brought both cups over to the counter, Aracelis cautiously reached for the sugary concoction eyeing the older teen out of the corner of her eye. "Lady Rose was a rather spirited woman. It might actually do you some good to garner some of that spirit, Aracelis."
"What?" frowned the younger girl. "I'm plenty spirited, grandfather."
"Pft," scoffed Gladio. "Says the girl who always tries to get home before sundown."
"Are you trying to pick a fight?" challenged Aracelis.
"Now, now," eased Jared. "No need to get so riled up, but he does have a point."
"Grandfather!" protested Aracelis.
"Honestly, I don't understand why you insist on being so formal. Haven't I told you to call me grandpa?" sighed the elder Hester.
"That's because Arie's a poser!" Gladio let out a bellowing laugh when the brunette spluttered.
Strangely, he found an odd sense of accomplishment whenever he manages to make the normally straight-laced girl lose composure. Growing up, Aracelis was the type of kid who enjoyed acting mature far beyond her years. It annoyed him to see her to do so with such ease when she was younger than him. Now, that composure was preferable to the exhaustion that seems to so often plague her whenever she's stressed.
"Well, you should get going soon Aracelis," interrupted Jared in their bout of teasing the younger girl. "You have school today, right?"
"I'll head out once I'm done with my coffee," grumbled Aracelis. She cupped her hands over her mug, hiding behind it in annoyance.
"I'll leave you two here then," chuckled Jared, moving to leave the kitchen. "And by the way Aracelis, you should forgo the paperwork today. Take a little break. You look exhausted."
The younger Hester dismissed her grandfather with an airy wave. The older man shook his head fondly at her before leaving the room. Once gone, the kitchen fell silent. Gladio's coffee had gone cold while the smell of Aracelis' intolerably sweet beverage wafted in the air.
"So…" started Aracelis quietly after a moment. "You're right, the prince is a brat."
"Uh…" Gladio glanced to her in surprise, not expecting her to badmouth the prince. "What brought this on?"
"…I found the prince yesterday and threatened to slap him silly," muttered the girl behind her cup.
"You threatened to slap him?" An amused and disbelieving snort escaped the Amicitia heir.
"Told him to get his ass in gear and go talk to his father to give you your job back… Not sure if any of it got through to him, but… I did what I could." Aracelis' eyes avoided his as she raised the mug to her lips and took a deep gulp.
Had she looked, she would have seen bewilderment clear on Gladio's face. He's gotten so accustomed to her siding with the prince at every turn, he didn't know how to take this change of heart. It wasn't until much later that he realized, this was the closest Aracelis had ever gotten to giving him a genuine apology.
At the moment however, he felt a sudden warmth fill the cold disappointment in his chest. It was nice to have his friend side with him after all this time. Maybe her grandfather was right, losing his position in Crownsguard might not be the worst thing in the world.
"Don't worry about it," dismissed Gladio. "Being the brat's shield kind of sucked anyway. Getting fired… I guess it's not that bad. At least I don't have to deal with his royal pain in the ass anymore."
He intended for his words to alleviate some of the stress plaguing his friend. However, what it actually did was much worse. Aracelis nearly choked on her drink and fell into a coughing fit. She slammed the ceramic mug loudly onto the counter freeing up use of her hands to keep herself from spewing all over the place. It was pure luck the mug didn't shatter upon impact.
"W-WHAT?" coughed the younger girl in disbelief the moment she managed to swallow her drink. "You can't mean that, can you? Being the shield—that's… that's what you wanted all your life, isn't it?"
"Why do you sound more upset than I am?" frowned Gladio.
"Because… the shield will always be an Amicitia. If you're not the prince's shield, then Iris is going to become the next shield," reasoned Aracelis, though she did not sound completely convinced, even to herself. "Are you sure you want her to put herself in danger for the prince's sake?"
A bewildered look crossed his face. It was bad enough dealing with the spoiled brat during his term as shield. For his little sister to put her life on the line for him would be unbearable. Maybe this was stressing out Aracelis. He won't let this possibility bother him the way it's bothering her.
"You're overthinking this," dismissed the older teen. "No one ever said that Iris is going to become the next shield."
"But you can't be certain of that," pressured Aracelis.
"Take the day off after school," insisted Gladio. He hopped off his chair after downing the remainder of his cooled coffee.
"I don't need a day off," huffed the shorter girl.
"That's because you don't understand the concept of taking a day off," countered Gladio before gathering his cup and dirty plate. "I bet you'd hide in your room all day on the weekends if Selene would let you."
"Would not!" snapped Aracelis.
"Alright then, how about we make a bet?" grinned the Amicitia heir.
"…What kind of bet?" The girl narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
"If you can stay out past midnight, you win. If you hide out in places like the library, a cafe or head home before that duration, then you lose." Gladio explained.
"But it's a school night!" protested Aracelis.
"Case and point Miss Goodie Two Shoes." The older teen chuckled. "If you win, you can continue doing whatever it is that you are doing to yourself. But if I win, you have to take a break whenever I say!"
"That's hardly fair! You have nothing on the line," grounded the girl.
"Fine, if you win, I'll do whatever you want for a week. Deal?" amended Gladio, rolling his eyes.
"Hmm…" A thoughtful frown pinched her brows as she considered his counter. "Agreed. But don't think for a moment that I didn't take notice of you using this bet as a roundabout way of getting me to take a break as you call it."
"But, you still agreed because you enjoy the challenge of proving me wrong," teased Gladio.
"Expect location markers every half an hour after I get out of school." Aracelis pointedly drained her cup of coffee before stacking it on top of the dirty plate he was still holding. "I will own you for a week, mark my words!"
Gladio fought back a hearty laugh as he watched the younger girl storm out of the kitchen, grim determination clear on her face. He has no doubt the bet was lost the moment he issued the challenge. However, it was a reasonable price to pay.
9:00 AM
An early September breeze fluttered through the open windows of the sleepy classroom. Prompto, along with many of his fellow classmates, found it difficult to stay awake amidst their instructor's droning lecture. Summer break may have ended a week ago, but a number of them were still having trouble adjusting to school life after a long leisure break.
Time and time again, the blond found himself glancing across the room to see if Noctis had also fallen prey to the drowsy atmosphere. He seemingly hasn't, as the prince was wide awake and staring aimlessly out the window. Any other time, this wouldn't be alarming, but Noctis had been acting strangely since yesterday.
Towards the majority of their peers, the raven haired teen was often withdrawn. None got what Prompto did when they hung out alone. They weren't privy to his sly grins or the inescapable outbursts of laughter. It made the blond secretly proud that he was able to monopolize it for himself.
Except… this was a selfish pride. That also meant not many others would be able to notice when there was something wrong with his friend. Prompto's worried blue eyes lingered over Noctis. He didn't know how to help.
He wasn't strong like Gladio or self-assured like Aracelis. Heck, he can't even pull off being calm and composed like Ignis. He was just the shy fat kid that somehow became friends with the prince.
Well… not as fat now. Prompto poked the soft bulge at his stomach absently. Compared to the beginning of the year, he had slimmed down quite a bit thanks to Gladio's instruction and the countless training sessions where he tagged along with Noctis over the summer.
Lips pressed thin, Prompto grimaced at the thought. It seemed like he was always getting help from one person or another… Everyone's favorite charity case. Self-consciously, he adjusted the wristband hiding the barcode on his wrist. From a young age, his parents had warned him to keep it out of sight. As he got older he realized the severity of its existence.
No parent would mark their child in such a manner, which led him to believe his parents must have adopted him. With the amount of philanthropy they involve themselves in, this wouldn't be surprising. It was one of the reasons he did not begrudge them for disappearing, weeks at a time. They were kind and generous… much like everyone else who's helped him so far.
Prompto snuck another glance at Noctis. He wished he knew how to help someone else for a change.
12:00 PM
"Hey~Noct, ready for lunch?" Prompto chirped with as much pep as he could muster. Once their morning classes were over, he skipped over to the vacated seat in front of the prince and plopped down with his bagged lunch in hand.
"…Don't really feel like eating," murmured Noctis with no regard to him.
"Oh…then… Do you want to go for a walk? I mean…" Prompto bit his lower lip wondering if it was too forward or weird for him to ask.
The raven haired teen stared, puzzled as to why Prompto seemed so nervous. Eventually, Prompto gave up on trying to come up with the right words and blurted out what was on his mind.
"…Are you okay?" asked the worried blond. "It looks like something's bothering you. Did something happen? Do you want to talk about it? Do I need to punch a guy?"
Noctis blinked, not expecting the slew of concern that came tumbling out of the blond's mouth. It took a moment for him to process every question that was thrown at him. When he did, the prince couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face.
"Nah," dismissed Noctis lightheartedly. "I just failed a test, it's nothing to worry about."
"We had a test?" Prompto's voice rose in alarm. "When?"
"It's more of a royal test," shrugged the prince nonchalantly. "It's no big deal. Not like it's my first—"
"There are tests for royalty?" gapped Prompto in amazement. "What do you get tested on? What happens when you fail? Wait… If you fail, does that mean you're no longer the prince? Do you get replaced? How does that even work? Where would they even get a new prince?"
Noctis snorted in wry amusement, finding it difficult to remain morose when confronted with such genuine naivety.
"It's a series of tests on how princely I can act. If I fail enough times, they'll demote me to commoner and enact a citywide talent search for the next prince of Lucis," fibbed the raven haired teen dryly, putting every effort to keep a straight face as he spouted blatant fabrications. "It'll be done in a TV game show format and aired every Sunday, prime time. Everyone's eligible of course, so… maybe even you can be the next prince."
"Really? That's a thing?" Prompto responded, leaning in with such sincere amazement that it sent Noctis keeling over his desk in an attempt to stop himself from laughing.
"No."
"Wha… H-hey!" huffed Prompto, pouting at being teased.
"Man, how gullible are you? I mean, you should've caught on the moment I started listing broadcasting times. Seriously!"
"Well, excuse me Prince Noctis for being a pleb and uncultured to your royal ways," scoffed Prompto, haughty and indignant as he crossed his arms.
At the sight of the prince smiling again, any annoyance he may have felt at being teased melted away. He'd endure the embarrassment a thousand times over if it made his friend happy. Unfortunately, the moment was short-lived. Once the raven haired teen managed to recompose himself, his face fell. His blue eyes grew dim once more.
"So…" Prompto tried again, when it looked like Noctis had fallen completely silent. "Joking aside, is failing bad? Do you get in trouble for not doing well?"
The conversation fell silent, but this time Noctis was looking at him seriously.
"…I don't get in trouble whenever I fail… not really, the most I've ever gotten was a scolding." Noctis murmured after he finally resolved whatever debates he may have had on his mind. "But… that just means others get punished because of my failures."
"Oh…" whispered Prompto, quiet and understanding.
It finally made sense why Noctis was avoiding him for the last two days. Prompto wasn't entirely sure how he would feel. What if he did something wrong but received nothing more than a chastise while someone else got the brunt of the punishment?
"Um… I'm not sure if this helps, but when I screw up… I kinda just own up to it, you know? Like… 'My bad. I screwed up.' Not to say that you're not honest or whatever, just… that bad feeling kinda weighs on you after a while you know? It's better to just own up to it, you'll feel better when you do."
Prompto's offered advice brought upon a pensive look on the prince's face. Noctis curled the back of his knuckles against his lips in thought.
At some point Noctis had accepted his failed assessments as part of the norm, tuning out the disappointment and pretty much anything else that disinterested him.
"…Guess it's worth a try." A smile quirked up at the corner of his lips as he turned to Prompto. "I didn't know I needed that."
A warm flutter tugged at Prompto's chest. Pushing down the bubbling desire to laugh with glee, the corners of his eyes creased as a toothy grin enveloped his face.
"Always here to help, buddy!"
4:00 PM
Since his afternoon was free, Prompto decided to wander about the city, taking photographs. Nowadays, most of the photos in his camera were of him and Noctis fooling around during afternoon breaks or at the arcades.
With his best friend in better spirits, Prompto felt less insecure after his invitation to hang out was declined.
Prompto shook his head fondly when he spotted a photo of Noctis cringing at a plush smiley faced carrot in his arms as he flipped through the snapshots in his camera.
Prince…
The smile died on his face as a sense of insignificance crept up on him. In the grander scheme of things, who could he be to the prince? A friend? For now, but in a year? In five years? What then? Sure, they're friends now, but eventually, their paths would undoubtedly separate.
Noctis had momentous duties to live for. On the other hand, he… he had no idea what he was going to do with his life. He didn't even know what he wanted for dinner tonight. Who was he to offer the prince any advice?
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!
Prompto yelped, clenching a hand to his chest in terror as he turned his attention behind him. In a red convertible sat a dark haired young woman with her hand firmly planted on the horn. A thick white stripe accented down the roof of the vehicle with matching stripes decorating the side. It looked very much like a race car. A mischievous grin dominated her face when she caught his attention and she stuck her head out the window.
"YO BLONDIE!" shouted the young woman gleefully. "Looks like I almost ran you over again! Did you lose weight? You look good! So, where you going? I'll give you a ride."
His blue eyes widened in terror and his fair complexion paled even further at the sight of the driver. It was her… It was really her! The pretty girl who ran him over with her car sending him straight to the emergency room. She was also the same person who drove him there. Despite the many months separating him from the accident, that memory still plagues him.
After running him over, she hauled him into her car, joking and laughing at his good fortune of not being killed on impact. Then she drove at high speeds on the highway, racing over the speed limit to the hospital. She even talked up a storm on the way there, occasionally pulling her attention away from the traffic to speak to him. It was all very exciting—but not in a fun way. The blond was certain that he watched his pitiful life flash before his eyes enough times to call them bad reruns.
"J-just heading ho— GOING FOR A JOG!" Prompto lied. "You know me, always jogging… Yep, that's me—the jogger."
"You're going to jog…in your school uniform?" deadpanned the older teen, obviously calling out his poorly thought out fib.
"Erm, yes?" He insisted.
Prompto internally begged the gods, the heavens and whatever else might be listening to his prayers to have her believe him, promising to be a better person. He'll volunteer! He'll donate his left kidney or—
"…More power to you I guess." She gave a dismissive nonchalant shrug. The glossy colored lips of the flashy girl grinned brightly. Her eyes relit with mischief and glee. "Still! I never thought I'd run into you again. HA! Get it? Run in? Because I ran you over?"
"Eh-heh… I get it… funny…" replied Prompto nervously, unable to find relief despite how willingly she accepted and dismissed him. She honestly didn't seem to care whether or not he was lying.
Heck, it didn't seem like she cared about much at all. He may not have known her for more than the duration they shared in her car, but there was something sincerely insincere about her.
What's worse, the playful lilt to her voice didn't help ease the unsettling feeling beginning to creep beneath Prompto's skin. Something about the way she looked at him made him feel like less of a person. As if he was nothing more than another toy, waiting to be broken.
"Well, it was nice chatting with you, but I gotta get going!" Prompto began his retreat. "Still have like… a bunch of… laps to do! So um—"
Bzzz…bzzz…
"Hold that thought," interrupted his brunette assailant, pulling out her phone and flicking the screen to life. Her eyes darted across the screen briefly before her eyes widened. A delighted giggle escaped her lips. "Well, isn't this interesting. Hey blondie, how do you feel about going to a car race?"
"NO!" Prompto shouted before quickly adding. "I mean it's not really my thing."
"You sure?" She cocked her head, waiting for a change of heart. Her thumbs were still tapping away in a response text.
"YEP!" Prompto waved his hand. "You sound like you enjoy that! So… have fun! I'm… I'm gonna just go now! Really gotta get going, see you!"
Without waiting for a response, the blond hightailed away from the red car. Every part of his instincts demanded he escape as soon as possible…
5:30 PM
The library was silent and void of other students. The majority of Valetis was long gone, doing their best to enjoy the last of the dwindling summer sun before autumn completely sets in. Ignis should have done the same as his peers, but Aracelis dropped yet another absurd conspiracy on him during their lunch together. While he did find the research engaging, his patience was waning. Letting out a deep sigh, he leaned back pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses.
Bzzz… bzzz…
Heeeey Igster! xDDDD i'm surprised that you actually texted me! i thought you were dead or something! anyway i'll be there soon to pick you up! — Claire Auburn
Ignis eyed the text for a moment longer before locking his phone with a click of a button. He's long grown accustomed to her overly affectionate messages. It was how Claire Auburn, daughter of an old line of barony, typically spoke to people. Much like him who will likely inherit the title of Count when his uncle retires, she was in line to inherit the title of Baroness from her father. Despite her pedigree, the girl was atrociously informal and cared little for upholding other people's personal boundaries.
Quietly, he set the phone softly on the desk before glancing at his mess. His notepad lay among the jumble of opened books strewn across three out of the six desks meant for group studies.
Unwillingly, he thought back to the day he met Claire. She had stolen her father's car for a joyride when she found him sitting at the edge of a bridge, feet dangling precariously over the railings. In hindsight, he could've easily fallen and died, but he hadn't thought much of it. To others, it would look as though he were suicidal, but in actuality? He merely wanted to see if fear and adrenaline could pierce through the veiling of numbness in his mind.
He was… bored. Bored of the self-imposed responsibilities he gave himself.
Since moving in with his uncle, he was a stranger intruding in the man's life. Not that Uncle Pyralis ever said anything of the sort. The man practically gave him free reign to do whatever he pleased since they rarely spend more than ten minutes in the same room… except, it didn't feel right for him to abuse that freedom. His uncle had taken him in when he could've easily dropped him off at an institution. It was a burden that he could never fully repay.
Instead, he maintained his grades and his ranking as the top student in Valetis. He cooked and attended to various housework. He intended to repay his uncle in any way possible.
Ignis couldn't feel anything when Claire approached him that day. The way she asked him if he was trying to kill himself was akin to someone asking about the weather, her unsettling blasé attitude left an impression. He could no longer remember the exact response he gave her, but he recalls her laughing. She remarked how falling off a bridge was lame and that there were better, more fun ways to get a thrill.
Bzzz… bzzz…
Blinking away the exhaustion, Ignis reached for his phone, stopping it from clattering and vibrating on the desk. A quick click revealed another text.
i'm outside! get your pretty ass over here so we can get the party started! ;) —Claire Auburn
Ignis raised an eyebrow. The timestamp between this text and the last one was absurdly close. He hoped that the other teen was already somewhere nearby when he texted her, but chances were she had broken several traffic violations to get to Valetis. Nevertheless, he spared a glance at the messy desk in front of him for a second longer before he tidied everything into a neat pile and returned it to a nearby cart of perused books. With the research safely packed away in his briefcase tucked beneath his arm, he made his way out of Valetis.
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!
"YO IGGY!" shouted a dark haired teen out of her striped convertible. She flailed an arm out the window to catch his attention.
"…Hello Claire." Ignis greeted her evenly as he approached her car. The girl was practically bouncing with excitement in her seat.
"Hello?" scoffed the girl. "You go MIA for months and that's all you're gonna give me?"
"Yes," replied Ignis bluntly.
"Why do you insist on being as ice cold as Shiva?" the girl asked with an exaggerated pout..
"Because nothing I say actually offends you," dismissed the stoic teen.
"Eh… fair enough." Claire cackled. She thumbed towards the back of her car with a grin and waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I got your clothes in the trunk. You can change in the backseat if you want."
10:00 PM
Thump-thump-click
Ignis clutched the gear lever loosely in his gloved hand as he shifted it with practiced ease. Light from the occasional street lamp glinted off his glasses as he did his best to focus on the dimly lit road ahead. His boot held firm on the accelerator. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the needle on the speed gauge slowly approaching the red zone. His grip loosened on the steering wheel, allowing it to glide against his hands before he swerved the vehicle. The engine purred and the car screeched loudly as it performed a narrow drift through a sharp turn.
Heart racing, blood pumping, the quiet teen righted the speeding vehicle, racing after the car in front of him. He was slightly out of practice, but this wasn't his first time. He eyed the opposite lane for oncoming traffic before deciding to switch over to pull ahead against his opponent. His grip tightened against the wheel, riding out the vibrations from the roaring engine as he cut back in front of his opponent.
For a moment it seemed like the opposing car was going to rear-end him, but it swerved at the last second to avoid collision. Ignis glanced through his rearview mirror in concern, wondering if his reckless bluff caused his opponent to crash into the guardrail. He was half tempted to stop and turn around, but then he spotted the other car catching up fast. A relieved smile touched his lips before he decided it was high time for him to end the race. With victory in mind, he shifted gears once more to floor the accelerator.
As he neared the end, he could see the horde of rowdy spectators. The roughneck crowd was torn between cheering and groaning in dismay at the sight of his borrowed car. He made a flashy show of sending the car into a full donut sliding neatly across the finish line.
"And the winner is— IGGY!" The ref's megaphone was loud enough for him to hear through the car.
Ignis shifted gears to park then pulled up the break before climbing out. At his appearance his ardent fans continued to cheer wildly, some rushing over to congratulate his victory. A cloud of dismay fell over others in the crowd. A few grudgingly slapped money into the hands of those who bet against him.
"Great race Iggy!"
"I knew you would win!"
"Thought we'd never get to see you around these parts anymore!"
Tight pants, leather jacket and gelled up hair, Ignis smiled openly at their praise as he weaved through. Over time, his Iggy persona was unwittingly created among the street racers. In the car, he felt like he was on top of the world and could face anything that came his way. Outside of the car, being cheered by racing enthusiasts, he still fell back to feeling like a stranger in his skin.
They would never know of the existence of Ignis, the rule abiding top student of Valetis. The quiet teen that never felt comfortable around others. The shy young man forever stuck going through the same routine day in and day out to the point of numbness. Whereas Ignis would always play it safe and follow the rules, Iggy would break those rules with unbridled recklessness. It was exhilarating, cathartic and… absolutely embarrassing.
No one knew of his indulgence in this bout of delinquency. No one, that is—apart from Claire, who is highly amused by what she deems an act of two-faced hypocrisy. If he could, he intended to take this secret to his grave.
Speaking of which, something wasn't right. The abrasive girl was strangely absent when she was normally the first to congratulate his victories. Often to claim credit for dragging him into the world of street racing. Claire regularly stole her father's car for joyrides, more than happy to shove him in the driver's seat and force him into his first street race. Despite the fact that over a year ago, Ignis wasn't even eligible for a learner's permit.
Ignis glanced through the crowd in search of conflict. While he wasn't worried that she might have gotten into trouble, he was definitely concerned that she might be causing it. At a precursory glance, it didn't take him long to find the girl aggressively pinning some poor unfortunate soul against a black car. Not an uncommon sight; however, he quickly found the car to be awfully familiar and the victim in question even more so.
Fully dressed in the Valetis uniform and looking utterly out of place in Claire's invasive hold was none other than Aracelis.
The sight of his classmate sent a shiver down his spine, making him want to run before she could see him. He had no doubt that if she were to discover this secret life of his, the rule-abiding girl would have more than a few choice words with him. Of the people that could have found out, she was definitely not one that he wanted to deal with. Still, he could not just leave her to the Auburn heir's less than tender care.
The fact that she came to such an event still dressed in her school uniform proved that she was woefully unprepared to deal with the likes of Lady Claire Auburn. Aracelis may seem calm and composed to anyone watching from afar, but he liked to think he's spent enough time around her to know better. It grew clear to him that behind her usual act of cool bravado was a hidden discomfort and uncertainty.
With how her eyes darted between the rowdy girl holding her and their immediate surroundings, he was certain Aracelis was searching for a way to escape her predicament. She's not likely to in Claire's playground. Ignis breathed out through his nose and with resolution, he stood taller making his way toward them.
"Oh come on, just one little ride," drawled Claire with faux playfulness. Her body was practically draped over the other girl as she leaned into her. "Otherwise, why would you even come to a place like this, Miss Goodie Two Shoes?"
"…She's my ride home," interrupted Ignis.
"So soon?" asked Claire, she deflated in mock disbelief.
"If I stay, you're just going to drag me to a party and not let me go home until dawn," retorted Ignis dryly. "Or am I wrong?"
"…Ugh, why are you so responsible?" spat Claire. "It's absolutely disgusting. Go, just get out of here."
Ignis didn't bother to respond as he sidestepped around her. A bewildered Aracelis stared back at him, wide-eyed and unmoving from where Claire had previously pinned her. Attempting to back away from Claire's invasive behavior Aracelis was forced to lean away, her back flushed against the hood. Her hands and fingers were spread wide against the car to maintain her balance. Her slight panting and flustered expression forced a rising blush to his face.
To her, his presence was likely an unexpected surprise, if not his appearance. Not wanting to waste any more time, he moved forward to grab hold of her by the shoulders and usher her into the passenger seat of her car. It didn't take long for him to amble over to the driver's seat and make haste away from the race area.
The unbridled revelry faded into the distance and a quiet lull filled the car in its place. Only the steady soft hum of the engine broke the silence as he drove away. The drag racing strip was a secluded area with little traffic at this time of night. Apart from their car, there were scant few vehicles on the road.
The quiet teen thought he had gotten used to spending time alone with Aracelis during their lunch breaks at school but then again, he had spent that time with her as Ignis.
He wary a glance at the brunette. The girl had a hand clasped over her mouth, her brown eyes pensive and expression confused. She looked almost as lost as he felt. For fifteen minutes, the silence dragged on as his trepidation grew with each passing second. Eventually, he gave up waiting for her to speak and broke their silence first.
"…Out with it, I know you have something to say," sighed the taller teen.
"So… you street race," started Aracelis slowly.
"Yes," confirmed Ignis stiffly.
"As Iggy…" continued the girl, sounding as though she didn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth.
"…Correct," murmured Ignis, steeling himself for the onslaught of disappointment to come.
Be it in the form of school regulations, his overall irresponsibility or whatever multitude of reasons she could come up with. He was certain she was not lacking in the creativity department. Little did he know, while he was bracing himself for disappointment, Aracelis was struggling to keep her composure. The girl's body was turned away, hand over her mouth in an attempt to hide the fact that she was restraining laughter.
When a stifled snort escaped her, Ignis' resolve melted away, replaced by confusion and dread. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Within seconds, she keeled over burying her face in her hands as she fell into a giggling fit.
"Don't…" Trying his best to keep his eyes on the road, Ignis did his best to maintain his composure. "It—This isn't funny!"
"Iggy." She snorted, fighting desperately against the rising giggle. His protest went either unheard or ignored. "You have an alter-ego named Iggy… oh… my… god… this is amazing!"
"…You're not bothered by…" Ignis paused, unable to keep himself from drawing his attention away from the road before them to look to the girl in confusion.
"Why would I?" grinned Aracelis. "You're still Ignis even if you're secretly some sort of a racing god."
The genuine glee on her face… wasn't what he expected.
"I'm glad that you see it that way." Ignis replied, a shy smile on his lips. "Though, I doubt others would think the same."
"Well, I'll have to make sure I keep Iggy a secret then," replied Aracelis dryly. "I would hate to deprive the world of its esteemed race god."
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. The girl didn't value one facade of him over the other. Unlike Claire who branded him a faker and insisted he let Iggy out more often, Aracelis took it in stride that he was both… No one's ever accepted both sides of him before.
Her brows furrowed as Aracelis suddenly fell silent, knuckles pressed against her lips deep in thought. Ignis kept a careful hold of what he allowed to express on his face. The girl's shrewd eyes darted rapidly back and forth as if mentally reviewing notes.
Her face was surprisingly expressive for someone who sat in silence. The fingers curled beneath her lips twitched, pressing against her palm in a manner reminiscent of someone counting off reasons to prove a point. Concern grew on her face with each finger. Her knuckles still nursing against her lips, she finally spoke her mind.
"Racing's… kind of dangerous. One wrong move and you could end up crippled for life or worse… dead." She paused, glancing at him. "Not to say it's not cool and all, but… it'd be a waste for you to lose your life like this. You're capable of so much more than just street racing," reasoned the girl. "Heck, I bet you could probably whip the prince into a decent king, even with all his hang-ups."
Ignis found an unexpected flutter in his chest followed by a burning heat on his face. Embarrassed, he adjusted his glasses in haste as a guise to hide his face behind his hand. He can't remember the last time someone expressed actual concern for his well-being. Whereas Claire would egg him on into dangerous races, Aracelis was worried for him.
"Erm…" Ignis cleared his throat.
"If you don't mind my asking, Aracelis, why were you at the race site?" He asked in an attempt to change the topic. He held hope that the distraction would be enough to will away his flaming cheeks. "I'd say it doesn't seem like something you'd be interested in, but that would be hypocritical of me."
"Gladio implied that I was a homebody that can't stay out late," answered Aracelis. "So we made a bet. If I could stay out past midnight, he becomes my slave for a week. Part of the challenge was that I can't stay in a library or cafe in that duration. Hence, I ended up there. I wanted to send him my location marker as proof."
"I see…" murmured Ignis thoughtfully. "What happens if you lose?"
"He gets to decide when I need to take a break," scoffs Aracelis. "As if he knows anything about relaxing."
"…If you don't mind me asking, how do you relax?" asked Ignis curiously.
Aracelis fell quiet again, this time looking out the window so she wouldn't meet his gaze.
"…Cigs." Aracelis mumbles under her breath.
"Cigs?" Ignis repeated, surprised that she actually answered.
"Cigarettes," clarified the girl more firmly. She straightened her posture and glanced back to him coolly. "Problem?"
So that's why she wasn't too opposed to him racing. City law states that no one under the age of 18 was permitted the purchase of cigarettes. With how rule abiding she was, Aracelis probably equated underage smoking with illegal street racing. Though, he doubts there were many other people who began street racing before earning their license.
At her tough girl posturing, Ignis had to turn away to hide his amusement. She was actually rather cute.
"Not at all." His voice tinged with humor. "I'm just surprised that you managed to keep this from your mother."
"You're underestimating my mother," muttered Aracelis darkly. "I went out of my way to air out my clothes, brushing my teeth to get rid of the smell and she still somehow figured it out. What's worse, instead of screaming at me she said nothing… until one day. She began leaving me these homemade pamphlets stating the dangers of smoking. Taped up photos of addicted people with black lungs and holes in their throats. She left all that at my door with a box of 12-step nicotine patches for quitting."
Aracelis let out an irritated hiss as she pressed her entire palm over her face.
"I know she cares." She continued. "She wouldn't do all that if she didn't. I just… damn it."
"Something wrong?" asked Ignis, confused by her sudden mood.
"I was going to say I needed a break, but then I realized that means Gladio was right." Aracelis grumbled, face palming in frustration. "Do me a favor and don't tell him I said that… actually, don't tell him anything that I told you here. He's definitely not going to get off my case if he knows I smoke."
With how often they bickered it was obvious the two of them were close, but Ignis was starting to see a more familial relationship between them. However, as a single child, he can't confidently say if it's akin to having a sibling. Were siblings usually secretive with one another?
"So I'm to be your accomplice?" Ignis inquired.
"I'm trusting you to not betray me," warned Aracelis, looking more exhausted than threatening.
"Very well then," grinned Ignis. "As your accomplice, shall I humbly offer coffee and sanctuary at my apartment until the allotted time for your bet comes to an end?"
"That sounds good right about now," sighed Aracelis in relief. "I'm going to make Gladio pay for this."
Ignis fought back another smile as he drove the car towards his apartment. With the tension gone, the car fell into a peaceful quiet, disrupted by the occasional ticking of the turn signal. Aracelis sank into her seat, resting her head on the crook of her arm against the window.
Every now and again out of the corner of his eye, the quiet teen heard her fighting back a yawn. The brunette must be exhausted from running around. By the time they made it back to his apartment, Aracelis could fall asleep on her feet.
"…Are you going to be okay to drive home later?" He asked as they stepped into the foyer of his shared apartment.
"Just get me some coffee and I'll be fine. It's almost midnight anyway," mumbled the drowsy girl, her eyes threatening to drift close.
"Why don't you take a seat? I'll get a pot brewing," offered Ignis, waving vaguely towards the couch in the living area.
"Sounds great," agreed Aracelis readily, making her in.
In a practiced motion, Ignis gathered what he needed for brewing. In moments, sounds of a pulsing coffee grinder, the soft clinking of a metal spoon against the glass coffee press and the clattering of cups and saucers filled the dark wood room. The igniter clicked three times before the flame lit and the water was on its way to getting boiled.
As he waited for the water to heat up, Ignis watched the girl swiping through her phone. This was his first time bringing someone to the apartment. While the circumstances were a little strange, it wasn't uncomfortable. They've shared coffee together many times before at school. The only difference now was the intimacy of the location.
Clatter…
"…Aracelis?" Ignis glanced away from the stove at the sound, but paused when he spotted the girl slumped over, her phone laid abandoned on the ground a foot away from the couch.
Confused and alarmed, he circled around the counter only to find the girl sound asleep. All that running around must've taken a toll on her. She likely succumbed to the exhaustion. Relieved it was nothing serious, he knelt down to pick up her phone. When he rested his hand on the couch to push himself up, he found his gaze drifting back to Aracelis.
Loose bangs draped over her face in her sleep. Her breathing grew softer as she fell deeper into her slumber. The girl could be so paranoid, he found it hard to imagine her as the sort to fall asleep anywhere. For her to be able to do so easily now must mean that she trusted him a great deal.
Seeing the bangs covering her face reminded him how often she hated it whenever they fell in line with her vision, always tucking her hair behind an ear in annoyance.
Without thinking, he brushed the loose strands back.
The sudden fondness bubbling at his chest took him by surprise and Ignis hastily pulled away. His face flushed red with embarrassment, but his green eyes were unable to pull away from the sleeping girl.
Ring… Ring…
The ringing and vibrating phone in his hand snapped him from the flustering emotions. A photo of Selene smiling appeared. The mother must be wondering where her daughter is at this hour. Ignis fought back a grimace, glancing to the still sleeping Aracelis. He should probably wake her, but she might actually try to drive home half asleep. He didn't have long to decide. The phone will likely go to voicemail if he continues to remain inactive. Taking a deep breath, he swiped his thumb over the screen to answer.
"…Hello Mrs. Hester," greeted Ignis politely, trying his best to formulate a good excuse as to why he had possession of Aracelis' phone. "I'm not sure if you remember me, but this is Ignis. I'm Aracelis' classmate. We met some time ago?"
"Ignis?" repeated Selene in bewilderment for a second before her bubbly voice perked up. "Oh! You're that sweet boy that helped me with my groceries! How are you, dear?"
"Erm… I'm fine, thank you for asking." Ignis replied, not expecting the woman start up common pleasantries when there were more pressing matters at hand.
"Lovely! That's wonderful to hear!" chirped Selene. "You and Aracelis must be having a study session. That girl never tells me anything nowadays. I was starting to worry when she didn't come home yet, but if she's with you then I'm relieved! You're such a nice, responsible young man."
"You flatter me." Despite the polite words, he grew uncomfortable under her compliments.
"Oh don't be so modest!" gushed the Hester matriarch. "Can you ask Aracelis when she'll be coming home?"
"About that…" Ignis tried his best not to grow flustered or clear his throat unnecessarily. "Aracelis fell asleep just a moment ago. I can wake her, but I'm a bit concerned about her driving home while half awake."
"Hmm… is that so?" hummed Selene thoughtfully.
"Mrs. Hester, I can assure you nothing happened between—"
"Oh, don't worry about that dear, I was just teasing," giggled Selene. "But you are right and I rather not have Arie drive if she's tired. Would your parents mind if you hosted Arie for the night? Will that be an issue?"
"…No problem at all," replied Ignis.
Technically, his uncle Pyralis was away on a business trip and won't be due back until the next day, but she didn't need to know that.
"Wonderful!" cheered Selene. "Tell her to call me in the morning."
"Certainly, Mrs. Hester." He replied dutifully.
"I thought I told you to call me Selene. Honestly, the two of you are so ridiculously formal," huffed the woman. "Anyway, do try to come visit sometime. Arie rarely ever brings home a friend."
"…I'll try to keep that in mind," murmured Ignis awkwardly, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. "Good night, Mrs… erm… Selene."
"Good night to you too dear!" chirped the woman.
Once the call ended, a sigh of relief escaped Ignis. Somehow, talking to the Hester matriarch was far more nerve-wracking than any close call made during a race.
Fwee!
At the sound of the boiling kettle, Ignis welcomed the distraction. There was no point in making coffee, now that Aracelis was asleep but he still wanted the reassuring warmth of the familiar beverage. He took quick footed steps into the kitchen to turn off the stove before the whistling kettle could wake his sleeping guest.
However, before he could get to brewing coffee, the familiar sound of a key jiggling at the foyer caught his attention. Ignis' face paled when the door opened. His uncle was home. He shouldn't be home. He never comes home early!
The door closes, followed by a pregnant pause. His uncle must've seen Aracelis' shoes at the foyer. What may have been seconds felt like an eternity to Ignis as he waited for his uncle to leave the foyer and step into the living room. There was no way he could hide Aracelis, even if she was awake. Even so, justifying her presence in the apartment felt less nerve-wracking than explaining why he was dressed like Iggy.
Finally, his travel weary uncle slipped into his view, luggage in tow. "…I see you have a guest," remarked his uncle Pyralis immediately making note of Aracelis asleep on his couch.
"She's a classmate," explained Ignis hastily. "We had a project that… ran a bit long. She fell asleep a while ago and… I didn't want to wake her."
"Okay, just do whatever you need to do… Does her family know that she's here?" His uncle asked, looking at neither Ignis nor Aracelis as he spoke. His attention remained on hauling his luggage.
"Yes, her mother called a moment ago and I told her we could host her for the night," replied the younger Scientia. "Uncle, I know I should have asked before bringing guests over but—"
Ignis found himself interrupted by a long involuntary yawn from Pyralis.
"Don't stay up too late," he dismissed, not bothering to give Ignis a second look as he made his way down the hall and towards his room.
Ignis fell silent, watching the man's retreating back. Despite the odd circumstances, he and his uncle still shared nearly the same old conversation. The man hadn't even reacted to him in his unusual attire. The nagging sense of emptiness tugged at his chest.
His gaze drifted to Aracelis' sleeping figure on the couch, suddenly jealous that the girl could slumber in such a carefree manner. She never had to doubt whether or not her mother cared. With an exasperated sigh and a shake of his head, Ignis went off to the linen closet to get a spare blanket for her.
12:00 AM
Tall dark shadows from the floor to ceiling windows decorated the quiet halls on the upper levels of the Citadel. Apart from the occasional Crownsguard on patrol, there weren't many other souls out and about at this hour. King Regis sat alone in his dimly lit study, mulling over the various files scattered on his desk.
Between his fingers he held a Kingsglaive acquisition request form for Gladiolus Amicitia.
A solemn look crossed the monarch's face. He had hoped Gladiolus would one day stand by Noctis' side, much like how his friend and shield, Clarus Amicitia had stood by him. As was congruent to their fathers before them, and so on. Between the perpetual war with Niflheim and the escalating civil unrest throughout Lucis, Regis feared that he may have prolonged this more personal matter for far too long. Both fathers wrongly concluded that their sons could eventually work out their differences.
As was opined by several of his closest friends and advisors, it would simply require some more time, or greater effort, or harsher punitive action. The affair began circulating his court and it became that almost every official in the Citadel had some form of advice or opinion on the matter; from minor nobility like Lord Flavius to the Baron Sir Auburn.
Unfortunately, his extended leniency with his son only worsened the matter and it grew more dire with each passing failure. The young prince had grown more dismissive and hopeless with each assessment. In turn, his son's failures only served to worsen the discord with the younger Amicitia. Finally, everyone agreed that if the prince shows no visible improvement and fails once more, immediate action must be taken. With the future of Lucis in mind, Regis had no choice but to make the difficult decision.
Looking in on his father, Noctis stood outside by the entrance concealed by the darkness of the hallway. The large door into his father's study was slightly ajar. The slither of light escaping the other room danced across his face as he adjusted his posturing for a better look.
Regis breathed out deeply through his nose contemplating the sensitive young prince and his future. His son had a bit of a finicky nature, from his picky eating to his choice of informal schooling, perhaps even to his retinue… He feared that he might have to seriously consider other knighthoods that could procure a suitable shield replacement for his son, and breach their longstanding tradition with the Amicitias.
Noctis hovered his hand reluctantly over the doors' ornate surface, conflicted on whether he should knock. After much deliberation, the young prince squared up his shoulders.
…Knock… knock…
Regis glanced up from his desk when the door opened further. The king's expression softened when unexpectedly greeted with his son's uncertain blue eyes. Noctis appeared uncharacteristically yielding as he closed the door behind him. His posture lacked the usual indifferent slouch and his eyes appeared to be more alert than Regis has ever seen lately.
Rather than ask what brought on the sudden visit, the king waited patiently for the withdrawn prince to speak first.
"…Dad," started the raven haired boy quietly, doing his best not to fidget and avert his gaze. "I want you to reinstate Gladiolus as my shield. It… it was my fault that I failed. He did everything he could to prepare me. I was the one that skipped out on training despite his efforts. It should be me who gets punished this time… not him."
In the past, apart from a thorough tongue lashing, the prince never endured any actual punishment. In hindsight, his Shield had likely gotten the brunt of it on his behalf. The uncomfortable thought made Noctis inwardly grimace with guilt.
An unreadable expression crossed Regis' face. Noctis stood uncomfortably stiff as he waited for his father to speak.
"That…" Regis started slowly as though still debating on how to respond "…Is very mature of you, Noctis. However, I will not be reinstating your former shield."
"But—" Noctis objected.
Before he could continue, Regis was quick to raise a hand to cease any further protests. As petulant as Noctis may be at times, the king demanded to be heard above all else.
"While I am proud of your sense of integrity, I will no longer express leniency with you for your accumulated failures," reasoned the monarch. His piercing blue eyes gave no room for argument as he smoothed a hand over the transfer documents on his desk. "You are punished, Prince Noctis. At the present time you have no shield because indeed, you failed. Currently, you do not deserve one. I hope this will be a memorable lesson to you regarding the consequences of your actions."
Noctis remained silent, his gaze trailing after the movement of his father's hand. When he spotted Gladio's picture and the familiar Kingsglaive crest at the top of the document, his stomach dropped. It was only a day since the older teen's dismissal from Crownsguard and he had already been reassigned. Unconsciously, the prince's hands curled tightly into fists at his sides.
"I am, however…" continued Regis. "Not opposed to seeing his expulsion as…temporary."
"Really?" Noctis perked up at the possibility of absolution.
A small indulgent smile tugged at Regis' face as he folded his hands in front of him. "There are conditions. As you've already failed many times even with help, this may be a difficult challenge for you," noted his father. "If you wish for Gladiolus to be reinstated as your shield you will have to prove yourself in the upcoming assessments."
"Prove myself?"
"Yes, prove yourself. Above all, a king must always be trustworthy for there are countless lives consigned to him; even the lives of those beyond the borders of his court and kingdom," Regis explained.
Noctis couldn't help but shift uncomfortably under the weight of his words.
"Prince Noctis, you must be able to defend yourself; and more importantly, the many whose lives depend on the constitution of your character."
"I know, but how? How am I supposed to do that?" Uncertain, Noctis looked to his father for confidence and direction.
"… I do believe that the best way to truly comprehend something is when you must imbue it to another," Regis declared thoughtfully. "Clarus often tells me of his rather spirited younger daughter, Iris Amicitia. Apparently, she increasingly implores those around her to train her in the ways of self-defense and combat."
Noctis' brows pinched with disconcertion. He recognized the name of Gladio's little sister, but this was sounding more and more like Aracelis' prediction of the younger Amicitia sibling becoming his new shield.
"In lieu of resuming your scheduled training with Gladiolus, instead you are to train with her. Teach her everything you have learned. You are to be responsible for her growth, success and safety, as well as your own."
At the king's suggestion, Noctis' mouth gaped in disbelief.
"Teaching?" Noctis said in disbelief. "Me?"
"Yes you," noted Regis with a hint of amusement. "In the meantime, if I see visible improvements on your upcoming assessments I will consider reinstating your former shield. Is this too difficult of a task for you?"
"What? No!" grounded Noctis, planting his hands firmly on his father's desk. "I can do this!"
"If you are certain." Regis waved, as though giving him one last chance to back out.
"… Yes," said Noctis with quiet determination. Every part of him wanted nothing more than to step back and walk away, assuring himself that he never needed to prove himself to others. It would be so much easier to just let things go on as before.
Noctis was certain now. He must stand his ground and face the consequences of his actions.