Ignis Scientia bolted upright, terribly confused. "Noctis?" he called quietly, feeling around and trying to remember what had happened. Why wasn't he dead? What had happened there, at the end? Curse Ardyn and the blindness that made him so useless! All he remembered was being frozen, slowly losing feeling in his body and being sure that Ardyn was killing them all as one by one, his best friends went silent, starting with his king. "Noct, are you there? Prompto? Gladio?" Nobody answered him. Yet he was alive, or at least, he thought he was alive. It could've been the afterlife, he supposed, but he was still blind, and didn't logic suggest that physical ailments would not persist once the physical body had died? Unless the Ancient Kings' fire that had taken his sight had blinded his spirit, too-which was a price he was willing to pay for his king, no matter how much of a burden he had become.

He was on the ground on grass and dirt, which suggested he was far away from Zegnautus Keep in Gralea. It was clearly daytime-he could feel the sun on his skin and clothes-probably afternoon, and his whole body ached as though he'd been pummeled by an iron giant, which gave him more confidence that he was still alive. If he wasn't dead, then Ardyn had a different plan for them. Where were they? Were they alive as well? Were they hurt?

He reached for the armiger to draw his weapons, but nothing appeared. Panic struck, and for a moment the blackness in his heart matched the blackness of his vision. He was sure that Noctis was dead, the last of the line of Lucian kings was gone, and he had failed his friend, his brother. Then he remembered how Ardyn had blocked their access to the magic of the Armiger before, that it didn't necessarily mean Noctis was dead, and he could breathe again.

Come on, Ignis! Focus, he scolded himself. These panic attacks had begun after being blinded, and although he was doing his best to hide and suppress them, sometimes they still got the better of him. He knew logically that heightened or uncontrolled emotion was typical and even expected after such trauma. Regardless, his whole life had been spent helping and serving his prince; he didn't like being a burden to his friends and king, and he had been exerting all of his willpower to present his calm, unflappable, normal facade. Gladio was already reluctant to allow a cripple to accompany them; the advisor couldn't allow the only asset he still possessed-his mind-to crumble now.

Ignis couldn't hear anything but the hum of insects and the wind rushing through grass and trees. The air smelled clean and fresh, as though it had just rained, although the ground was dry. He felt around his wrist. To his relief, his collapsible cane still hung there. He extended it with a flick, using it to feel around his close surroundings. Just tall grass on flat ground. No sign of his friends. Did he dare call louder for them? If there were demons or beasts nearby, he might gain unwanted attention, but the alternative was wandering alone and lost, literally blind.

"Noctis?" he shouted, feeling in his pockets. He only had a few elixirs, a phoenix down, a flask of fire, and a few flasks of ice. He had a ration bar, but no water, no cell phone, no weapon. "Hello? Is anyone there? Can anybody hear me?" No reply.

He tried yelling for his friends, for help, but nobody ever appeared. Finally, he stood up and began heading east, or at least, what he thought was east, away from the sun. He counted his strides, and every 1000 steps, he called out. After he'd gone close to five miles, he stopped to rest. It was slow going, traversing unfamiliar terrain on his own. He still wasn't very good with his cane, and it seemed that he caught it on things more often than using it to prevent a collision.

Ignis continued in this manner until evening. As the sun began to set behind him and the air grew colder, the danger of beasts and demons grew. He began to listen for the sound of leaves and branches, and each time he passed a tree, he'd go over to see if he could climb into it. As he settled uncomfortably in a large pine, picking at his sticky hands, he hoped that it didn't get too cold. Half of the ration bar staved off his growing hunger. As he sat in his perpetual blackness, feeling the chill of night sink into his body, he prayed. He prayed to the Six, even to Ifrit, the Infernian. He begged their blessing on Noctis, on his friends. He begged that the Gods would guide his steps or send him someone who would help him find them. Eventually Ignis slept, but lightly, aware of every noise and eagerly waiting for the day to return.

The night passed quickly, much faster than he expected. That was another odd thing. He had no way of telling time, since although he kept his pocket watch polished and wound, it was more for the comfort of the habit since he couldn't actually read the face. Perhaps he'd slept more than he thought. Previously the days had been getting drastically shorter, or so Prompto and Gladio had told him on their way to Gralea. Regardless, he was grateful for the sunlight on his face. Ignis continued walking east, hoping that he would find civilization, or a water source, soon.

He was disappointed. Ignis walked and called all day, only resting during the hours when the sun was directly overhead and he couldn't figure out which direction to go. At least counting his steps kept his mind focused on the task at hand, and not on his fear for his friends or the ever-looming specter of Noctis' eventual fate, gleaned from the vision in Altissia which he'd been granted by the Gods. By evening he was exhausted from the heat on his black clothes and no water. He managed to choke down the last of his ration bar once he'd found a suitable tree to shelter in. After praying, he slept fitfully.

As soon as Ignis felt the warmth of the sun on his face, he knew that the demons would have vanished as they always did, and he stiffly felt his way down the tree to stand on his feet again. Once more, he began his walk, still heading eastwards. He'd been fortunate not to have encountered demons or beasts thus far, and he knew not how long his luck would last.

When at last he stopped for midday, he wasn't feeling well. He'd walked what he estimated to be almost 40 miles since waking up alone, thousands and thousands of steps, and the lack of water and food was taking its toll. He was dizzy and his mouth was dry, and he'd had a worsening headache that was pounding away in his brain. As he sat there in the grass, shielding his head with his jacket, all alone, he heard the distant sound of pounding hooves. Perhaps a herd of Anak? Or Spiracorns? Definitely more than two. It took an inordinate amount of effort to stand. He shuffled into a run, but the sound grew louder and louder, heading straight for him. When he stumbled over a tree root, he tried to climb.

"Stop, wait! It's alright!" a woman's voice called, and Ignis sagged against the tree, trying not to cry in relief. "We're here to help you." They thundered up and surrounded him. Hands reached out and steadied his shoulders. "Drink, you look parched." Cold metal touched his lips, and he clutched at the flask. In spite of his desperation, he knew better than to take more than one or two swallows of the water within.

"Thank you," said Ignis hoarsely.

"What happened to you?" asked a man. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm blind," said Ignis. "I ran out of food and water, and I'm lost."

"What are you doing out here?" said the woman.

"I woke up in a field two days ago," said Ignis. "I don't know how I got there, but I was alone. I called for help, but no one was there, so I just started walking. I was hoping to find my companions. I was traveling with a group, three men about my age-have you seen them?"

"You're the only stranger we know of," said the woman supporting him. She was strong, sitting astride some kind of beast. "The trees sent for us, since they were too shy to help you themselves."

"The trees?" Ignis asked. What did she mean?

"What's your name, son?" said another man. He sounded older, maybe in his 40s or 50s.

"Ignis Scientia."

"Let us take you back to the outpost, Ignis, " said the older man. "You're in no condition to travel, even if you weren't blind. We can send scouts out to see if there is any sign of your friends. Alright?"

"Thank you," repeated Ignis, taking another swallow of water. Someone took the flask out of his hand and he swayed dizzily. The woman steadied him again.

"You're not looking so good," said the first man. "We'll get the doctor to look at you when we get back. I think it's better if you ride. Captain Dorngale, will you take him, or shall I?"

"I will," said Dorngale. "Lyssana, help me?" He rode his beast nearer as the woman grasped Ignis beneath the shoulders and easily lifted him off his feet. The blind man was surprised. He wasn't anywhere near as large as Gladio, and he'd lost weight since becoming blind, but he still had muscle, and he was tall, and yet she'd moved him as though he was a toy. She set him behind the man on the bare back of some tall creature covered in short, stiff hair. He collapsed his cane and let it hang from its wrist strap as he grasped the captain by the waist. It was like hugging a tree wearing plate armor. Ignis could feel a greatsword sheathed on the man's back.

The group set off, hooves pounding and armor rattling as they ran through the midday sun. Ignis tried to breathe deeply, but his head was throbbing and his stomach churning. Feeling dizzy, he held on tighter to Dorngale's stomach, but his fingers slipped on the metal breastplate and he began to fall. The man immediately tried to stop, but that made it worse, and Ignis slid completely to the ground, clutching for Dorngale but only finding hair. He reached with his hands, feeling the beast and trying to get a better sense of what it looked like. The others had stopped as well and were turning around by the time he finally realized what he was touching.

The beast was large, like an Alicorn, covered in short stubbly hair. But where its shoulders and the saddle should be, he felt nothing but skin and hair. The man was no man at all. He was not astride the beast, he was the beast, a demon hybrid with the torso and arms and presumably the head of a man but the body of an animal. With a yell, Ignis flung himself backwards, flicking his wrist to extend his cane.

"Stay back!" he yelled. "Ardyn, you bastard, come out!" The man was probably nearby, laughing at him.

"Ignis?" said the woman.

"Where's Noct? What have you done with him!" bellowed Ignis.

"He's gone sunstruck," said Dorngale. "Come back, son. Calm down. Let's get you some more water. We'll get back, and we'll send someone to find your friends, alright?"

"I'm not going to play your games," spat Ignis. He drew a flask of ice from his jacket pocket and flung it on the ground. The familiar surge of Noctis' power surrounded them, freezing his enemies in place as he began to run. He knew he didn't have much time, but usually demons were incapable of following a person for long. If he could just get far enough away, he'd be safe. The demons were screaming, a twisted, evil shriek that was an eerie blend of human and animal.

Ignis tripped and fell, but rolling, he managed to keep his forward momentum and obtained his feet again. He flicked his cane back and forth in front of him, hoping to avoid any obstacles. He heard a hiss and thud into the dirt beside him-were they were shooting at him? He kept running, going into an all-out sprint and praying to the Six that he wouldn't run into a tree. And he didn't. Something wrapped around his legs tightly and he slammed gracelessly into the ground. His head struck hard, and he lay dazed and winded as the hoofbeats drew ever closer.