Day 33:
Days became weeks.
A slew of political deaths left his council of twelve three short. Hamon's untimely end may well have been attributed to Alnilam—who had, with little doubt, been an imperial informer, but it made very little sense. Why kill Hamon, of all people? Certainly, he was a dangerous man by his own right, but if political damage was the goal, surely an assassination attempt on Regis himself was more strategic.
And then there was Aldebrand, whose sudden and acute case of Starscourge might just have been called an accident, but wasn't. Coincidence was one thing, but the sudden death of one of Regis' councilors occurring while a man who was all but certainly the Starscourge incarnate walked the halls was another altogether.
Even if Regis had wished to take the easy path and blame both deaths on Alnilam, how was his death to be explained? A convenient streak of vigilantism in the Outlands? Preposterous.
Something was amiss and he couldn't even begin to sort out the tangled threads leading to who or why.
Reina was still a concern as well. Sometimes she was little more than a shadow about the Citadel. While Regis no longer had to urge her to leave his side to pursue her own interests, those things she did pursue on her own were not the sort of interests he had wished for. So far as he could tell, she drifted from room to room and floor to floor, cycling through friends and family alike to keep her eyes on each of them. He was reminded of the old tales of guardian spirits who watched over their families after life, though each time he thought of that, it left an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. As if he had admitted that Reina as he had known her was gone.
Other times were worse. Small things would set her off, and results could be unpredictable: an overblown reaction that fit the situation not at all—tears and apologies in the midst of a casual conversation—or a sudden distantness as if the consciousness behind her eyes had drifted away temporarily. But if asked, she always said the same thing.
"I'm fine."
It seemed more a habit for her to state the lie than anything else. She couldn't have believed it and there was no possibility anyone else would either.
On rare occasions, she was both cognizant and open. These times occurred in the quiet evenings when the only people assembled were those she loved, and then only when they managed to avoid any motions, words, or topics that sent her tumbling into memories.
Some of these cues were easy enough to avoid: the servants were ordered to have all blinds closed and lights lit on the upper levels before the sun had set. Others were subtle and difficult to recognize, let alone prevent. It was, for instance, difficult to avoid walking away from her at all, but watching people turn their backs on her seemed to set her off more often than not. Still others were completely puzzling an unfathomable. Why should she dread the sound of Regis' phone ringing—his in particular, and none other—or refuse to make any calls of her own? He could only guess. And he could only do that when she was absent; no one wished to press the matter.
Only his worry for Reina prevented Regis from giving in to his guilt. Even so, the belief that he was to blame for all of this lingered perpetually in the back of his mind.
One month had passed since Daemonfire Night. Insomnia was slowly returning to normal. Repair efforts were well underway and, while it was still strange to have no Wall overhead after so many decades, people were growing accustomed to that. No daemons came in the night. No imperials beyond that first attempt a week prior, which had gone down in flames—ostensibly due to the Glaive's efforts, but Noctis was not a very good liar.
In fact, word was that Niflheim was devolving into a political mess. With no leaders left, factions had sprung up across the nation, each vying for control. Doubtless a new and troublesome emperor would emerge eventually, but for now they fought amongst themselves and left Lucis well enough alone.
Even so, that was but one foe defeated. Niflheim was not the only threat on their horizon; with the empire no longer looming over Lucis, Regis was free to turn his full attention to the doom that had lingered in the back of his mind for fifteen long years. The prophecy. Whatever they were to do, plans needed to be made. These were best done in Reina's absence—not because he had any wish to exclude her, but because some topics provoked unpredictable reactions in her. He suspected this may be one.
Instead, Regis called a private meeting with Clarus, Noctis, and Ignis. In practice it was difficult to keep Reina out of any particular room. She had a habit of appearing in places she had never walked into, not unlike the former imperial chancellor. Regis prevented this by putting Cor on her tail for the duration.
Once they were all assembled in Regis' office, he began.
"The situation, so far as I can gather, is this: Our family has spent over a hundred generations waiting for the coming of the King of Light to fulfill the prophecy and destroy the darkness. This darkness has long since been interpreted as the Starscourge, and I still believe that is accurate. However, Lady Lunafreya suggests the scourge itself is manifest in a man. Ardyn Iznuia, the former imperial chancellor.
"Under normal circumstances I would be disinclined to host such a person in my home. I do so, however, because of Reina. While she has said little on this subject, I have drawn some conclusions from what she has said, or has not said, in some cases. She has not, for instance, disputed Lady Lunafreya's description of Ardyn. But neither has she attempted to send him away. Quite the contrary. They appear close, and while that in itself is troubling, I am loath to deprive her of any comfort she might find."
"So we're just going to let him stay?" Noctis asked.
"For the time," Regis said. "From what little Reina has said, we can gather that the situation is more complicated than Lunafreya would have us believe. Furthermore, that the prophecy we have spent generations pursuing can, in fact, be circumvented entirely without all life on Eos being forfeit."
"Right," Noctis said. "Because Rei said in her Dream she died, but it was supposed to be me."
"Precisely. I have no notion whether it is possible to save both your lives and still banish the darkness, but I must believe it to be so," Regis said.
If not…
He had spent their entire lives on this prophecy. If not for those words, how many choices would he have made differently? How would Reina have grown up instead? How would Noctis have?
"Of course it is," Noctis said. "Reina said the Astrals created the Starscourge. You think they couldn't get rid of it on their own if they wanted to?"
"I doubt it is so simple," Clarus said. "Even on the subject of the creation of the scourge we have little knowledge. If only the princess could be convinced to impart what she knows…"
"Out of the question entirely," Regis said. "If and when she is prepared to speak of this matter, she shall do so of her own accord. Attempting to do so has already taxed her greatly."
"She might not even know." Noctis lowered onto the arm of the sofa. "Like, sure, she did it different from how the prophecy said in her Dream, but she still died. So did you."
"Indeed," Regis said darkly. "That she knows more than we do is undeniable. Whether any of what she has buried will be of any assistance in solving this problem is another matter entirely. I fear we are very much on our own."
A silence fell as each of them poured over their own thoughts, turning ideas over in their minds. At length, Clarus broke the quiet.
"It seems likely that this man—Ardyn Izunia—will need to be destroyed," he said.
"It does," Regis said slowly, "But we can make no move on that front until we are fully aware of his part in Reina's tale."
"What can we do, then?" Noctis asked.
"While all is mere conjecture at this point, I believe it is safe to assume we are preparing to face a foe far more deadly than the empire," Regis said. "To that end, if no other, I believe it is time for you to leave the Crown City, Noctis."
"What? Why?"
"Every king must take up his ancestor's arms to protect his kingdom. You are of an age. It is high time you sought this right of passage yourself."
"You mean I'll get an Armiger like yours?"
"Precisely," Regis said.
Eagerness showed on Noctis' face until it was overtaken by hesitation. "Do you really think I'm ready? I can't even make a proper shield."
Noctis' magic was, perhaps, less disciplined than it could have been. That, however, was more likely due to lack of proper motivation than lack of competence.
"This trip is an excellent opportunity to practice your craft. Remember: More magic makes your barrier stronger, but you must have a barrier to reinforce first. Throwing magic at the air does not a shield make."
"Right…" Noctis said. "What about Rei?"
"Traditionally the right belongs to the monarch alone, but I believe she has more than proved her worth. In any case, the point is moot. She is in a poor state to go with you. You should, however, take your friends."
Ignis looked up, having been a silent observer up to this point. "Your Majesty, forgive me, but you have tasked me with protecting both of your children. Is it your wish that I attend Noctis, though Her Highness has great need?"
"It is," Regis said. "In truth, Ignis, I fear there is little you—or any of us—can do for her at this time."
"She should not be left on her own," Ignis said.
"She will not be. But neither will she accept aid. She fights a battle with herself and until she is prepared to admit that she cannot win it alone, we can do nothing but bear witness."
Ignis dropped his gaze. "I understand, Your Majesty."
"Good," Regis said. "Then we are in agreement. Make your preparations, Noctis. You leave tomorrow. Whatever the future holds, we must be prepared for it."
