Ignis was lost. After Noctis had fled, he had pulled himself to his feet. However, he was alone in a garden full of low, winding beds of fragrant flowers and trees and shrubs, and he didn't want to risk trampling anything. After trying futilely to work his way out of the winding paths, he finally gave up and seated himself under the nearest tree along the grassy path. Eventually Noctis or Prompto and Gladio would come to find him, he knew. And so, he waited, trying hard not to remember how his prince's breathing had hitched and gasped, trying not to imagine how his face must have looked, receiving such awful news.

Soft footsteps approached, not a tread he recognized. "Hello?" he asked.

"Do you need assistance, Mr. Scientia?" Ignis scrambled to his feet in a hurry and ended up smacking his head on a low branch. He ducked blindly away, flushing as bowed.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," he said. But Queen Lucy didn't seem to be offended.

"Are you alright?" she asked, taking one of his arms. "Let me see that." He felt a small, warm hand gently grasp his chin, and he tipped his head.

"Just a scrape, but no blood," she pronounced.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said.

"Were you waiting for King Noctis? Where is he?" asked Queen Lucy.

"He..." A single traitorous tear started up again, and he sighed and fumbled in his sleeve for his handkerchief. After days of imprisonment, it was very soiled, but it was the best he had. Focus, Ignis! He told himself sternly. This is behavior unbecoming of the King's right hand. "He's farther in the garden. I'm afraid I got rather turned around on my way out."

"I would be happy to guide you out, but are you certain you're ready to return?" she asked. She hadn't let go of his arm, and he was very self-conscious of his lack of hygiene. He had been in a cell for over a week, after all, and wandering through Narnia for a few days before that. "You seem unexpectedly distressed, considering that you have been reunited with your King and countrymen, not to mention that you now no longer have the charge of treason hanging over your head."

"I had to be the bearer of bad news to my king," he said softly. "I should have spoken up far sooner, I fear, but I had hoped that prophecy might be averted."

"Sit with me, Mr Scientia," she said. He felt her gently pull on his arm, and he followed and seated himself on a bench, awkwardly aware that, by Eosian standards of behavior, at least, he was breaking every protocol that had been drummed into him since childhood.

"My royal brothers mentioned a prophecy," she said. "Something about King Noctis being the King of Light." Queen Lucy sighed deeply. "Prophecy has a weight. It is a burden, sometimes gladly bourne, but it can be paralyzing-even crippling-in its binding. We humans so desperately desire to choose our own fates.

"Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight," she began, her voice rich and solemn. "At the sound of His roar, sorrows will be no more. When He bares his teeth, winter meets its death, and when He shakes his mane, we shall have spring again." She took a deep breath, then continued, slower than before. "When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone, Sits at Cair Paravel in throne, The evil time will be over and done, and the Golden Age will have begun."

"What is that, Your Majesty?" asked Ignis.

"That is the prophecy concerning the end of the White Witch and my and my siblings' ascent to the Thrones of Narnia," she said. "My brothers and Susan and I have faced a great enemy of our own, years ago. We were children, unfamiliar with battle and ruling, and everyone depended on us." She gave a little laugh. "They still depend on us. And it's one thing to have a prophecy speak of defeating a witch and ushering in the 'Golden Age' of Narnia, and another thing to try to create and defend it."

"It's my fault we are here," said Ignis quietly. "If I had told Noctis what I knew the first chance I got, we would never have gone to Gralea, never have touched the crystal, never have been sent to Narnia."

"I don't believe that for a moment," said Queen Lucy firmly. "You are here because Aslan brought you here. He allowed you to enter Narnia; when you have fulfilled your purpose here, whatever that may be, He will help you return home again."

"Who is Aslan, Your Majesty?" he asked.

"He is the real king of Narnia, King above all High Kings, the son of the Emperor-Across-The-Sea," she said. "He sang this world into being at the beginning, and he defeated death with his redemption of my brother Edmund from the White Witch."

"He's a god, then?" asked Ignis. "We call them Astrals on Eos."

"Aslan is the great lion," she corrected. "He is the King of beasts and men. He comes to help us in our need."

"Forgive me, but what is a lion?" he asked.

"Do you have cats in Lucis?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Imagine an enormous cat, taller than a man, with a great ruff of fur around its head and a tufted tail," she said.

"That sounds frightening," he admitted.

"He is not a tame lion," Queen Lucy said, and Ignis could hear the smile in her voice. "He has many countries, but He watches over us. I am certain He shall help you return to your home." Ignis frowned at the reminder of what awaited them all in Eos.

"Have faith, Ignis," she murmured gently. "You are not forgotten."

"You are very kind, Your Majesty," he replied.

"Will you accompany me to luncheon?" she asked.

"It would be my honor," said Ignis after a moment. If he didn't go with her, he'd be stuck here until someone else came to fetch him, and even if he waited, there was no guarantee that Noctis would want to see him. Not that he thought Noct would be cruel enough to ignore that he needed help, or anything; still, he didn't want to burden his king. He instead stood and offered his arm to help her up. Together they returned to the main audience hall.

"Iggy!" Prompto skipped forward. "Your Majesty. Where's Noct?"

"He wanted to be alone for a while," said Ignis as the Queen released his arm and went farther into the room.

"What did you tell him?" asked Gladio. He loomed close, and Ignis could sense the heat from his body.

"I'm afraid that it's not my place to say without his permission," Ignis said.

"Is he alright?" Gladio asked.

"I do not believe so," admitted Ignis quietly.

"Are you okay?" asked Prompto as Gladio turned and left without another word, no doubt off to find his King.

"I'm going to be fine," said Ignis. He'd had weeks of worry over this vision, after all, and he'd cried himself silly over the last day. He could gather himself and be strong now. He needed to support Noct and his friends. He would mourn later.

"Can I do anything?"

"Just help me with lunch," said Ignis.

"I'll get it for you," said Prompto. "It's buffet style."

"What the hell did you say?" asked Gladio, storming back in a few minutes later and yanking Ignis to his feet, causing him to drop his sandwich. The blind man jerked free and stepped back.

"Now is not the time, Gladiolus!" he snapped, intimately aware of how the room had gone silent to stare at them.

"The hell it isn't," growled the shield. "Explain. Now."

"You'll have to ask His Majesty..."

"Who the hell do you think told me to ask you, dumbass?" barked Gladio. Ignis heard a woman, quite possibly Queen Lucy or Queen Susan, gasp in shock at the insult. "Apparently you've been sitting on this for weeks."

"I saw a vision," said Ignis hollowly. If Noctis didn't want to be the one to tell Gladio, then Ignis would bear telling his friends the terrible truth. It was no more than he deserved. "Bahamut was there. Noctis must sit on the King's throne in Insomnia and sacrifice himself to bring back the light and destroy the starscourge." Prompto made a little choking sound.

"And how long have you known?" asked Gladio after a very long silence, his voice dangerously even.

"Since Altissia," admitted Ignis. "I was searching for Noctis, and I came across one of Luna's messenger dogs." His head exploded with pain, and he was thrown to the ground by the blow that had impacted his cheek. Gladio had hit him, and he hadn't pulled his punch.

"Cut it out, man!" yelped Prompto, surging forward.

"Don't you get it?" the Shield yelled at the blond. "We could've just turned around and headed back to Lucis. We're stuck here because of him! You were tortured because of him!"

"Well forgive me for trying to find another way!" snarled Ignis, staggering to his feet with the taste of blood in his mouth. "Forgive me for hoping that if we found the crystal then maybe my King didn't have to die!"

"You swore an oath to the crownsguard-to Lucis-before you ever took your oath to Noctis," retorted Gladio, his voice just as low and vicious. "You risked the entire world to save one life."

"It's Noct!" protested Ignis.

"And what about my sister?!" yelled Gladio, grabbing Ignis by the collar and shaking him. "What about everyone else? You think they'll survive eternal night? How many people will die because of you?" He flung Ignis back down to the ground. "You really are blind."

Ignis heard him storm out, heard Prompto make a mumbled excuse, bouncing in place for a moment of terrible indecision, and then hurry out as well, leaving Ignis humiliated and alone to deal with the fallout of that explosive encounter. There was an awful moment of silence, and then the whispers of movement as people began to follow some unseen signal and clean up the ruined lunch.

"Come with me," said Queen Lucy. She came over to him and helped him stand. She found his sunglasses wherever they'd fallen and set them in his hand, gently folding his fingers around them. Once he'd replaced them, she placed her arm in his and led him away, out a side door.

"Where are we going, Your Majesty?"

"How did you lose your sight, Mr Scientia?" she countered. "I was told it was a recent injury."

"I...I asked the ancient Lucian kings to give me their power so that I could defend my King," said Ignis, voice dull. "I was willing to give my life, but the price they asked was my vision."

"I had hoped to make you this offer this evening," she said, "but things ended rather abruptly and it doesn't look like we will be gathering together." He got the sense that she was nervous about something.

"What can I do for Your Majesty?" he asked, polite out of habit. They paused, halfway down a long hall, and she opened a door and led him inside. It felt like a smaller room. He could smell flowers and wood smoke and fresh sea air, and there were rugs covering the polished stone floor.

"Please sit," she said, guiding him to a chair. He heard her rummaging around in something, and he sank down into what turned out to be a padded armchair. She found whatever she was looking for, and she walked forward to him and stood by his chair. "I would like to try something. It will probably hurt, but only for a few seconds. Will you trust me in this?"

"What are you doing, Your Majesty?" Ignis asked, extremely uncomfortable with the situation. He was alone in a private chamber with a queen-that was definitely not allowed in Lucis! What did she want of him?

"Trust me," she repeated. "Have I given you any reason to doubt my intentions?" Well, no, she hadn't. She'd been nothing but kind and understanding in his weakness and failure.

"I will trust you, Your Majesty," he said.

"Open your mouth please," she said, a smile in her voice. The man took a deep breath and did as she commanded.

Ignis felt a single drop strike his tongue, something sweet and floral, familiar, like a mix of lilies and roses and hyacinths. Almost immediately, though, he tasted it-the heat, burning inside his mouth, spicier than the hottest dish of Lestallum or Ravatogh or even the Ghaladian food he'd purchased in the refugee districts in Insomnia. The heat grew and grew, spreading down his throat and into his stomach. It hurt now, and he clenched his jaw as it crept up into his face and into his bruised cheek...and his eyes. He groaned, his breath hissing through his teeth, and the queen clutched his hands fiercely, pinning them to his lap. He struggled against her and tried to rip himself free to put out the flames he felt sure were consuming his already destroyed face.

"Wait!" she shouted at him. "Wait a moment longer! It's working." He thrashed one more time, but the woman was stronger than he would have guessed, and he couldn't get proper leverage from his seated position. But he didn't need to; the burn was already easing. It had been agonizing for ten seconds or so, and as he relaxed, she carefully let go of his hands. He removed his tinted glasses and pressed his palms against his eyes; his skin was cold to the touch, although his eyes still felt uncomfortably hot to him. When everything had finally ended, he put his hands in his lap and kept his head bowed. The queen took his hands again, and he was tempted to rip them free.

"What was that?" he said flatly, trying to quell his anger.

"Ignis," she said gently. "Open your eyes."

So he did.

And he could see.

Ignis would've expected there to be some period of adjustment, some sort of light sensitivity, but when he opened his eyes, it was as though he was simply opening them after blinking-everything was clear and perfect and nothing was out of focus. He could see even better than before. Queen Lucy stood before him, beaming at him. She wore a small gold crown, fashioned after flowers and vines, and her blue eyes were kind.

Ignis wept.

"Thank you," he sobbed. She drew her handkerchief out of the sleeve of her medieval gown and offered it to him. He dabbed gently at his face, marveling that the raised, twisted scarring that no elixir or phoenix down had mended had somehow vanished entirely as though it had never existed; he could touch his face without pain. She laid one hand on his cheek comfortingly. He clutched at it, overcome with gratitude, and kissed her palm fervently. "Thank you, Your Majesty."