Day 48:
It was a storm like none Lucis had ever seen before. The clouds grew so thick and so black that the whole world darkened with premature night, made all the darker for the lack of stars or moon. The only lights they were granted were the brief flashes as lightning leapt from cloud to cloud or cloud to earth, each time breaking the thick silence with an earth shattering crack and rumble.
Conventional wisdom suggested standing atop the tallest building in the Crown City while a thunderstorm raged was a poor choice. But if one wished to challenge the God of the Storm, one needed to stand in his path.
Wind whipped around Regis, catching his cape and wrapping it halfway around him. The first raindrops fell. Cold. Sharp. As if blades fell from the sky and splattered at his feet. Lightning cracked directly overhead, illuminating the unnatural funnel of clouds that reached down from the sky toward Insomnia. This was not the usual locale for tornadoes. But the ways of nature seemed to matter very little where the Astrals were concerned.
Shoes crunched on the roof behind him.
"The Kingsglaives are in position. They await your signal," said Cor.
"Do they balk at fighting a god?"
"I don't know," he said. "I didn't ask."
Of course he hadn't. He carried out orders to the letter. Oh, he thought around them and outside of them, certainly; he wasn't likely to follow foolish instructions and he had no qualms with speaking up when he believed they were. But not even this newfound friendship with Reina had taught him basic social niceties. Then again, she seemed to have lost many of those herself.
Cor stopped beside him, eyes on the sky. "I keep thinking I made the wrong choice."
Regis glanced at him. Times were dire indeed when Cor second guessed himself.
"She needs this," Regis said. "Much as it hurts us all."
"I know," Cor said. "I just always thought I would stand beside her when the time came."
"As did I," Regis said.
It hurt more to admit it out loud. That it had broken Reina's heart to be sent away—to be presented with two paths and know that the one she wished to take would lead unequivocally to the outcome she wished most to avoid—had surprised no one. But she had no notion how much it had hurt him to do it. When she had given him a second chance at life he had believed that meant he would never again have to sit idly by while his children took up those burdens and duties that should have been his to bear. Now fate set her on her own path—alone—in spite of his hopes.
Fate. Wasn't that what they were fighting against? What was fate but a word made up by the gods to force Caelum after Caelum to do their bidding?
The rope that hung over one side of the Citadel roof and down to Regis' balcony pulled taut. A moment later, a hand grasped the edge of the tower and Cor hurried to assist Clarus up.
"Did you really have to choose this location, or are you simply eager to flaunt your new-found youth?" Clarus asked, out of breath.
"I thought I might enjoy it while it lasts," Regis said. As the chances that it would not last for another twenty four hours were growing stronger by the minute.
"Be grateful she fixed your back," Cor said. "Or you wouldn't be climbing anywhere."
"You're no spring chicken yourself anymore, Cor." Clarus slapped his shoulder. "Don't tell me you think you could have made that climb with your crippled knee."
"I took down the emperor and Glauca with that knee."
"An impressive knee, to be sure," Clarus said.
"I meant while my knee was injured."
A voice drifted up from over the edge. "You boys trying to leave me behind? Ain't gonna work."
Clarus stepped up to the edge and poked his head over. "What's the password?"
The world was ending, and they were all twenty years old again. The threat of death did strange things to people. There was a giddiness associated with standing among his brothers once more after so long of being apart. Cor had been in Insomnia all along, of course, but there was a distinction drawn between acting as marshal of the Crownsguard and being one of Regis' retinue once more. And Cid… up until a month ago, Regis had believed he would die without ever having the chance to properly set things right between them. Now, at least, if everything went wrong, it would happen with all scores settled. They were only missing Weskham.
"The password is Eat My Cane, boy."
An unidentifiable projectile shot up from below the edge, narrowly missing Clarus' face before dropping back down.
The rope pulled tight again. Cid grumbled more than Clarus had, but he made the climb all the same. When he stood squarely at the top he hunched over, breathing heavily, with his hands braced on his knees.
Clarus slapped his back. "Congratulations. You've passed the test. You are fit to join the club."
"I don't want yer damn club," Cid said. "Just here to make sure you kids don't get into any trouble."
"I fear it is much too late for that," Regis said.
The funnel of clouds was still growing. For each foot it stretched closer to the city, the winds grew more violent. Yet another reason standing on the roof was a foolish idea.
Once more the rope went taut, though no complaints followed. Iris pulled herself nimbly up onto the roof with enviable agility. Oh to be fifteen again.
"Can I join the club?" She asked.
"Iris, no," Clarus said. "Return downstairs. You'll be safe in the Citadel basements."
"I don't want to be safe." She crossed her arms. If she had forgiven Clarus for keeping her from Reina, it was only because Insomnia was set upon by a god. "I want to be useful."
"You can be useful when you are older," Clarus said. "You are only fifteen."
"So was I, when we first left for Altissia," Cor said. "Never heard you complain."
"Never heard him complain?" Cid said. "He never stopped complaining about you."
"I meant about my age," Cor said.
"Reina told me to stay with Cor," Iris said. "We're her retinue now. And Ignis too. You can't protect the princess' retinue, Dad."
"She carries her own weight," Cor said. "On Daemonfire Night and ever since. She was there when we fought the Messengers and she should be here for this. We all want to see this through."
Clarus glanced from face to face, hoping to find some support. Regis could find none to give, save his own paternal impulse to protect a daughter. But he could not protect his and he could not protect Clarus'. Today they fought a god. They needed every blade in the city.
Finally, Clarus sighed, outmatched and out of arguments. "Stay close," he said to Iris. "Don't do anything foolish."
The whole sky lit up. Lightning crawled from all ends of the storm toward the center. Where all paths met—the finger of Ramuh that reached out from the sky to touch Insomnia—a bolt of lightning shot out. It struck the ground and left nothing behind, save a smoldering crater. And a humanoid figure, near as tall as the apartment buildings on either side of him. Though the storm swept around him, it never seemed to touch his flowing robes or endless beard.
"So it begins," Regis said.
"Will he attack the civilians?" Cor asked. "The Crownsguard hasn't had enough time to evacuate the whole city."
"His purpose is not to destroy—if they are successful, that will happen regardless. His purpose is to distract and delay: to prevent us from standing beside Reina and to weaken her in so doing."
"Then we kill him and follow her to Angelgard," Cor said.
A plan more simply said than done, as most things worth doing were. To destroy an Astral was no small feat. The prophecy spoke of the Chosen King proving himself in combat against them, though, and Niflheim had already proved they were not invincible. Immortal, perhaps. But not invulnerable. If they did manage to defeat him, there remained the problem of reaching Angelgard. Reina and Ardyn had taken their only available transport.
Ramuh remained grounded for only a moment before he rose up in the air, lightning crackling around him, and turned toward the Citadel. Cor squared up on Regis' left and Clarus at his right. Both of them drew blades from the air, pulling on Regis' magic to do so. On Cor's far side, Cid tested the weight of his lance in his hands. It must have been decades since he had last held it, but muscle memory faded slowly. He would hold. Iris joined the line, standing on Clarus' other side. In a flash of violet magic, she summoned a sword of the same style Cor favored.
"Right," she said. "Let's clean this guy up and go after Rei."
The giddiness had evaporated. They stood together. Perhaps they would fall together. But before anything else they would fight together. For Reina. For Lucis. For Eos. For all of humanity.