Chapter 25
Requiem
Flowers.
He remembered ash and smoke. Embers. A city on fire. The dawn breaking. A hand within his, cold and hard. Pale eyes meeting his own. The comforting sight and sound of someone dearly beloved. And then darkness. Night, endless and lonely.
Then a flicker of light.
The dark became grey, and then white, and suddenly Ignis squinted open his eyes and stared up at a cloudy sky. Greyish-blue. The color of the river in winter. He watched the sky for a long while, and sat up at the waist.
Flowers all around.
He was sitting in a vast field of purple, endless, and whichever way he turned his head there were only flowers and clouds. He could hear the sea beyond, waves crashing upon the beach. To the east, there was a distant forest of pine, thick and dark against the horizon. A mist hung over, obscuring visibility for great distances.
Ignis sat still, gathering his bearings and attempting to figure out precisely what had come to pass.
One thing stood out to him above all else :
Titus wasn't here.
An awful pang in his breast, and Ignis hung his head in a short moment of devastation, as he realized it didn't matter where he was, when, or why. Wherever he went from this point on, it would be by himself. Titus was gone, and always would be.
"Not always."
Ignis inhaled in a fright and lifted his head.
Through his loose bangs, he saw he was no longer alone.
Lady Lunafreya stood before him, dressed in white and smiling down at him. She was beautiful, so bright there against the grey and slate and muted purple, lighting up the mist around them. Ignis stared at her for a dumb moment, before he pulled himself to one knee. He glanced up to see her extending a hand. He took it, and was pulled effortlessly to his feet.
The shame overtook the hurt, and Ignis was quick to bow to her at the waist and utter, with a tremor, "Please, forgive me. I failed."
He had died alongside Titus there in Insomnia, and was crossing now into the afterlife. He had disobeyed the Lady's order, had been stubborn and selfish, and had paid the price.
He bowed there for a long while, and moved only when her hand fell atop his head.
"There is nothing to forgive. You did only what you thought was right. As have so many others before you. You have not failed in any matter, for your story is not finished. Failure cannot be determined before the end."
Ignis stood up straight, heart heavy and stomach twisting, and dared to press, "Not finished? I have not passed?"
She gave a short, airy snort, and shook her head.
"You are very much alive. I merely came to remind you of that and help you find your way back to Noctis. I feared too much you losing your way and fading."
Ignis may have slumped a bit, because returning to the world seemed quite overwhelming.
With no Titus there beyond the door.
Still, though it was foolish, Ignis grasped at straws and asked, "Is he... Has he passed through here?"
Her face fell a little into stoicism, and Ignis knew the answer long before she spoke.
"He has come, and gone. You remain."
Ignis had been trained always to let nothing affect him, to let no emotion show, to keep everything under lock and key, but, oh, how hard it was then, when he hung his head and squinted his eyes and tried so hard not to crack. Wouldn't cry in front of Lady Lunafreya, even if this was a dream.
How sad—even in dreams Ignis wasn't allowed to fold.
She clasped her hands before her and waited very patiently for Ignis to gather himself, and when he at last managed to open his bleary eyes, she turned her gaze to the flowers.
"Will you come walk with me?"
Had no will whatsoever, but all the same asked, "To where?"
"You see the forest there beyond the vale? If we walk towards it, you'll find him. All your troubles will pass, and so will you. Or, we can walk this way—" an inclination of her head to the west "—and go to the sea. If we walk that way, you'll return to Noctis. You stand now between two men who love you, but one needs you now more than the other."
Ignis turned his eyes to the forest, vision blurry as he blinked quickly, and he swallowed as he stood upon the fork in the road.
It was an easy decision, yes, but it hurt even so.
Noctis was alive and Titus was not, and that was all there was to it.
So Ignis swallowed again, tried to steady his voice, and uttered, "Take me to the sea."
Her face softened, her lips twitched upward, and she extended her hand once more. Once more, Ignis took it. They walked slowly along through the purple flowers, and then there was the scent of the ocean.
Ignis could never have said how much time had truly passed in this place. Felt only as if it had been several minutes, but could have been hours, days, weeks, who could ever say.
The field of flowers suddenly thinned, and then there was a beach, appearing through the mist.
Ignis looked over the grey sea, and beseeched, "Forgive me for lacking the ability to see him for what he was."
Her eyes too swept over the waves as they yet ambled along, and after a moment of silence she offered, softly, "Did you not? I believe you saw him for precisely what he was. Just a man, like any other, who played his part. All of us must go forth with only the knowledge we have, and that is what you did, as did he. No one man has all the answers. Sometimes we merely stumble about in the dark and discover things as we go along. There is no shame or fault in that."
That didn't quell the guilt nor shame.
The unshakeable image in his head, of Titus striking down Regis.
Lady Lunafreya stopped walking when they reached the rocky outcrop above the black sand, and she turned to face him.
She smiled prettily at him then, bowed her head, and whispered, "This is as far as I can take you. From here, you'll have to carry on alone. Noctis is waiting for you across this sea. Return to the King of Light, and help him fulfill his calling. He cannot do it without you. I understand how it feels to want someone so desperately, only to have them across that great divide. However it hurts, we cannot stop walking our paths. Each of us have a part to play, and your part in this story is not finished."
Ignis stared at her, crestfallen and so tired, and even though he knew he had to carry on, he truly only wanted to lie there in that field of flowers and dissolve into misery.
A hand on his face.
"Long have you been there for Noctis. It must continue to be so. Do not doubt yourself, for you were always where you were precisely meant to be. The gods have made it so. Nothing in your life was a mistake, nor his. So many in this story do not get the ending they seek. I can offer you no other comfort than this place, and the assurance that when the dawn comes, all suffering will end."
Yes, but the dawn was so far away.
A lifetime without Titus there beside of him seemed so daunting, so overwhelming, walking about in shadows for the remainder of his days with a ring and no man on the other end of it. Opening a door to nothing but empty space. An empty bed, and an emptier spirit.
All the same, though her words were not comforting, Ignis nodded against her palm, because he had no choice.
There was no other way than forward.
She smiled at him once more, and said, as she lowered her hand, "Farewell. Until next we meet. Follow Noctis, always."
And then she was gone, leaving him there alone above the shore, the flowers ever swaying behind him.
They too began to fade into the mist.
The dream ended.
White into grey, then black. The lull steadily evaporated, reality came back, the real world returned, clarity and awareness steadily crept back in, and oh...
How Ignis regretted it.
Returning to the world and its very harsh truths. Facing his own failures.
His duty had always been known. His calling had always been laid plainly before him. Everything Ignis had ever needed had been given to him, everything necessary to perform his tasks, and somehow, even so, Ignis had failed.
In every possible way.
Had never seen it, had been so blind to everything occurring under his own roof, and couldn't accept it.
Bleary days passed in what he knew was a hospital, as he fled in and out of lucidity. The awful smell of medicine and chemicals, lingering there just above the daze. Ignis clenched a hand the entire while, as Titus ever lingered above him and whispered at times. Time lurched along, and the return of clarity was far from comforting, for with every minute that passed, that blurry Titus hanging over him dissolved, and Ignis was forced to accept that it wasn't Titus at all.
Nor had it ever been.
Just Cor, watching over him silently as he had throughout Ignis' life.
Ever valorous Cor, who stood dutifully by even now, after Ignis had let him down in the worst possible way. Cor was mentor, guide, teacher, superior, and Cor had always expected so much more of Ignis than Ignis ever had it in him to give. To lie here now before the Marshal with this ring still on his finger—
Foolish.
If Cor stood before him when he was discharged from the hospital and revoked Ignis' membership in the Crownsguard, Ignis would not have been shocked.
The first day being truly awake came then, with agony.
Every movement hurt, and he felt so hopelessly weak, yet still Ignis opened his eyes and tried to look about. Sunlight through the window, lighting up brunet hair above him. Too dark to be Titus', and then a hand grabbed his own. Rough and calloused, but not Titus'. A low whisper, in a voice far too deep and smooth to be Titus'.
"Hey. Look here."
Ignis squinted against the sunlight, and looked up.
Cor was leaning down, clenching Ignis' hand and brow crinkled in concern.
Ignis took him in, was aware of him, comprehended him, and lamented that at last he was back in the unkind day of clarity. Cor must have seen it as well, for he asked, "Do you remember what happened?"
Yes, and he regretted that immensely.
Ignis averted his eyes, and nodded, too ashamed to meet Cor's piercing gaze.
Oh, what Cor must have thought of him.
Still held his hand, in spite of it all, and at Ignis' silence, Cor uttered, "You've been unconscious for five days. We were worried. You have some fight in you, to pull through that. It will take you a while to recover. We're in Lestallum."
Ignis stared off at nothing, and finally found his voice to rasp, "The King?"
A long hesitation, and then Cor murmured, quietly, "The King of my days has passed. Yours is well."
The guilt was unbearable, the mistake unforgivable. Had Ignis been more perceptive, had he paid more attention...
All Ignis could think of to say then was a weak, "Forgive me, for not seeing things the way they were."
Cor was silent.
Eventually, after an awful impasse, Cor gave Ignis' hand a squeeze and offered, "You saw only what all of us did. None of us were the wiser."
Not good enough.
Ignis looked about a bit, and asked, "Where is Noct? Gladio?"
"I've sent them out. Now that you seem to be out of the woods, I'll go give them a hand. You need to rest, now. You were so close to death. I'm... I think at some level I had prepared myself for your passing. You continue to impress me."
Ignis scoffed, bitterly.
Hardly. Cor was treading gently, carefully, because Cor was too polite and respectful to tell Ignis precisely what he thought of him in that moment.
Ignis turned his eyes back up to Cor, and didn't know why he muttered, "I couldn't have even survived on my own. Lady Lunafreya pulled me through, twice. Were it not for her aid, I would be resting still in Insomnia."
Cor's brow was low, stern, even as his eyes were somewhat softer. A man dealing with a foolish child.
"Well, then. Thank her by recovering."
"Fear not. I shall carry on and perform my duties."
Cor's harsh brow came up, just a bit, and his voice was lower when he uttered, "Duties? Is that all you think we care about? Do you think I've been sitting here for five days, waiting for you to wake up just so you can get right back to performing your duties?"
A twinge of anxiety.
Maybe Cor had already relieved Ignis of all duties while he had been unconscious, for it was very obvious that Ignis was no longer fit to fulfill them.
Ignis didn't know what to say, and so stared at Cor instead. Stared and stared, running his eyes over Cor's face, because without his glasses Cor was just similar enough. Just close enough. Something to cling to, though it wasn't healthy perhaps for his sanity to do so.
Cor seemed to shift a bit under his gaze, and abruptly stood up.
A hand on his shoulder.
"I want you to rest. I have to go help his Majesty, for now. Iris and Monica are here in town. They'll watch over you in my absence. I'll return with the others as soon as I can. Don't beat yourself up, hear? Settle your mind, and recover. There will be a time and place to mourn, but I am afraid it is not now."
A gentle clap on his arm for courage, and then Cor walked to the door.
Cor looked over his shoulder, and at that distance, blurry Cor was so very easy to mistake for Titus.
How that hurt.
"Be well. I'll see you soon."
And then he was gone, taking that bleary visage of Titus along with him.
Cor left to go aid Noctis, and Ignis was left with his own miserable mind for company.
Until Iris came by, that was.
She walked in, not an hour after Cor's departure, and when she saw Ignis there awake, she inhaled and ran right at him. Ignis braced himself, but still winced when she flung arms around his neck and practically tackled him there in his hospital bed.
"Oh! Iggy! I'm so happy you're awake!"
Ignis took comfort in her, and buried his face in her shoulder as she tightly clung to him.
They embraced for a long while, and when she pulled back at last, Ignis didn't miss how her eyes flitted quickly down to Ignis' hand. A rush of embarrassment, guilt, shame, and Ignis knew that he would have to remove that ring, for his own sanity as well as propriety. Couldn't wear it anymore, because the man that had given it to him was dead and had a different name.
Iris lifted her eyes, ran her hands over Ignis' hair to smooth it, and tried to sound cheery when she said, "You must be hungry. They'll let you out soon, and you can stay with us until you're back up to speed. Do you want something to eat now? I can bring you something."
Ignis shook his head, because he just didn't have the heart. Iris pursed her lips, but didn't push him, sitting down on the edge of his bed and fussing over him.
She stayed there until the set of the sun, and when she stood up to leave, her eyes once more drifted briefly down to Ignis' ring.
And yet, when she was gone, Ignis took the ring within his right hand and meant to pull it off but stopped short. He hesitated, faltered, and couldn't bring himself to do it. Couldn't remove the ring, and huddled back down in his hospital bed and slipped away into the dark of unconsciousness.
Monica came by the next day, and Ignis was both elated and mortified to see her.
She was Ignis' superior, as Cor was, the one who had trained him since his induction, and above that Monica was his friend. His friend, and also his confidante, and the one who had always...
As expected, Monica shut the door behind her, and her eyes fell atop Ignis' ring.
She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
Ignis sat up straight and tried to be composed, calm, unbothered, and she came over like Iris before her and sat down on the edge of the bed.
A long stare between them, and Ignis bowed his head, uttering with no tremor, "Forgive me that—"
That time, his obligatory platitudes were cut off, when she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck. He fell up against her as wearily as he had Iris, and buried his face in her shoulder as she ran a hand over his messy hair.
An awful silence, and then Monica whispered, "Don't say it, for I do not have the heart to hear it."
Ignis slumped ever more against her, and was grateful.
Didn't want to talk about it at all. Wanted to move on as if nothing had ever happened, as if that man had simply never existed, because that seemed easier than standing before the mirror and wondering how he could have ever been so blind. If nothing had ever happened, then he had never failed.
Sometimes, perhaps, willful denial and repression was best.
Monica pulled back a bit later, and ran her hands down Ignis' hair and then his neck, until her palms rested atop his shoulders. Their eyes met, and an understanding came between them then without either of them ever uttering a single word :
'We're just not going to talk about it.'
Couldn't, and so wouldn't. Easy enough.
Monica passed the day with Ignis, and did a very admirable job of avoiding unpleasant conversation and also at not looking again at Ignis' ring.
Because Monica hadn't looked at it upon exiting, Ignis still didn't remove it.
If he didn't look at it, then he could pretend it wasn't really there, for removing it felt outrageous and incomprehensible, in spite of it all. Whatever had come to pass, those feelings were hard to let go of, and there was nothing left to physically hold aside from this band on his finger.
Ignis didn't take the ring off.
Five days passed with Iris and Monica as constant company, and Ignis was always composed, always calm, and hadn't yet cried. Not once had he cried, for he was refusing to mourn. Wanted to more than anything, but felt too guilty to do so.
To be unable to mourn the man he had loved because the man he had loved had been his enemy all along—
Best to pretend.
He hadn't taken the ring off come six days later, when he received a new visitor, as he had been walking around in circles in the room, Iris' hand around his own as he tried to regain strength.
A call from the door. A familiar voice.
"Look at this! My two favorite people in the same room."
Ignis lifted his head, and smiled for the first time since regaining consciousness. Gladio stood there in the frame, arms crossed and eyes running over his two little 'sisters', for Gladio had always loved when they were side by side and he was able to keep watch far more easily.
But, like Iris and Monica before him, when Gladio came over, his eyes instantly flew down to Ignis' hand.
Ignis' smile instantly fell.
Oh, he had to now, had to, there was no way he could delay it any longer, it was ridiculous that he hadn't yet been able to take the bloody thing off. Now that Gladio was back, that meant that Noctis was, too, and so was Cor, and with the three of them there staring Ignis wouldn't be able to handle the shame.
Gladio pushed off the frame and marched forward, and didn't say another word as he just grabbed Ignis up in his arms and embraced him outright. An unusual breaking of Gladio's composure, but an expected one, perhaps, given the circumstances.
As he had every single other person, Ignis buried his face in Gladio's chest and began to say, "Forgive me, for—"
As Monica before him, Gladio cut him off, by grunting, "Hush," right into his ear.
No one wanted to hear it, and Ignis was just as glad, for if they thought he wanted to say it then they were very mistaken. It was his duty to apologize all the same, and he would continue to do so.
When Gladio finally pulled back, Ignis spied Prompto creeping in. Prompto avoided eye contact, and just said, quietly, "Hey. Glad to see you awake."
Ignis merely inclined his head.
And then there was a knock on the doorframe, a light rap, and Ignis looked over Gladio's shoulder.
Noctis.
Their eyes locked, and Ignis squirmed out of Gladio's arms and took several unsteady steps toward Noctis, as Iris watched over him carefully, pulling his IV along. Noctis came forward and met him halfway, and opened his mouth, but seemed to lose his voice, and instead Noctis just bowed his head to Ignis as Ignis stared at Noctis as if he had fallen from the sky.
Ignis felt his face collapsing, his will breaking, his strength fading.
So much to say, and no good way to say it. How could he ever fully express to Noctis how horrified he was? How could he ever truly stand there and say to Noctis, 'Your father fell at the hand of the man closest to me, because I loved him so that I was unable to see the truth'? No words would ever be enough.
Ignis had failed.
Hand of the King, they called him. He was supposed to be wise, intelligent, careful and calculating, he wasn't supposed to make mistakes, nor fail to see what was right under his nose.
He was unfit for his post, and needed to address that right then and there, for he would not have been able to carry on from here if he didn't.
His only desire in life had been to serve Noctis, with no waver, until the day he died.
It was certainly the hardest thing Ignis had ever done, and that spoke so much, to get shakily down on one knee before Noctis, place his hand over his heart, bow his head, and utter, voice so low that it broke, "Highness—when the Crystal is retaken and your throne secure, when it is all settled, I shall step aside, and recuse myself from your side. I've failed in all ends to do my duty. I would ask that you replace me with someone far more qualified."
The silence was very heavy, and Ignis kept his head low and eyes closed so that he wouldn't have to risk seeing a look of relief cross Noctis' face.
Lady Lunafreya demanded that Ignis follow Noctis, and he would do that, through this night. But when it was all said and done, Noctis would no longer need him, and Ignis would risk no further missteps on his part. He would stand down, as he should, and everyone would be better off for it.
Footsteps.
A hand suddenly gripped his arm, and forced him to his feet and up out of that bow.
When Ignis had the courage to open his eyes, it was Cor there beside of him, brow low and looking very close to what could have been hurt, had Ignis ever been able to accurately read Cor's face.
Cor swallowed, and then said, very sternly, "This is not a decision to be made now. It will require total clarity from all involved parties, and no one has that right now. Until then..."
Ignis met Cor's gaze as best he could, and obediently finished, "I will carry on."
The only right answer.
Cor inclined his head, and let go of Ignis' arm.
Noctis and Ignis stared at each other, and Ignis hoped that Noctis could understand in Ignis' eyes alone how sorry he was. Perhaps Noctis did, for he blinked quickly and then averted his gaze.
And Ignis looked over them all, the lot of them, his friends, and didn't know what to say to them, how to ever express what he felt, because he wasn't supposed to feel at all. He wasn't supposed to bend, to break, to crack, to show weakness, to be vulnerable, he wasn't supposed to be normal. Couldn't be normal, and so he couldn't fall to his knees then and press his forehead into the floor and burst into tears as he wanted to.
Instead, Ignis lowered his eyes, reached up, and at long last removed his ring.
And, oh, how it killed him.
He clenched it up in his fist, and maybe they thought he was angry but he was only clenching the bloody thing so tightly because he was protecting it, even then, and when he went back over to his bed and sat down they had yet to speak. He turned his back to them, and they mercifully took the hint. They left him alone, and Ignis clenched the ring in his palm and stared at the wall. Come sunset, he set the ring carefully down on the nightstand, and turned onto his side so that he was facing it.
Not the same as facing Titus in bed.
Just him alone, and that little ring there in front of him, cold and distant.
Ignis stared at the ring, night after night, as it glinted there in the moonlight. He refused to mourn, and felt as if he were suffocating for it. No air, as if the atmosphere had been stripped away.
Lady Lunafreya's words seemed so far away, so insurmountable, for how could the dawn ever come at all when the sun had burnt out entirely?
The bewildered sunflower was left behind to wilt.