Lucis was beautiful from above.

The last few times she had been in flight, she hadn't given any thought to it. But in the heart of summer, Duscae was all rich emerald greens contrasting with the browns and reds of Leide and the sparkling blue waters that wrapped around the shores. The meteor had fallen, but it still glowed with an unearthly light from within. Beneath, among the crumbling earth and stone, was the corporeal remains of the Arcaean.

And in the north, Insomnia sat on the sea, a glittering beacon in the setting sun.

Home.

"We'll put it right." She hadn't heard Cor approach at all, but now he stood at the open hatch beside her. The wind caught in his clothes, drying out whatever storm he had weathered in Insomnia.

"Ardyn's history," he added.

Reina turned her eyes back to Insomnia. "Yes. Lucis will know what truly happened at the dawn of our history."

"Build him a statue, maybe," Cor said.

She shot him a sideways glance and a crooked smile worked across her face. "The Healer, standing at last among the Lucii? He would hate that."

Cor shrugged. "All the more reason to do it."

He would miss Ardyn, too. She could see it in the slump of his shoulders, the tightness of his mouth as he looked out toward Insomnia.

She nodded slowly. "All the more reason to do it."

"The rest of us are sticking around," he said. "You won't be getting rid of us, just because the trouble's over."

"I don't think my trouble will ever be over."

He reached out and pulled her into a sideways hug. "No. Maybe not. But I told you once I need to protect you and that hasn't changed. I'll be by your side—always—if you'll let me."

Cor. Loyal, strong, constant Cor. How could she ever say anything but yes?

"There's no one else I'd rather have," she said.

He looked down at her, as if searching for a lie in her words. He must have found none, because a rare smile spread across his face. No sooner had she begun to appreciate it than he looked away, embarrassed to have been caught grinning.

They stood in silence for a time. In the belly of the Magitek Engine, a celebration was brewing. But in their little bubble it was all silence. For a while.

"I'm thinking about retiring from the Crownsguard," he said at length. "Not immediately. But a new age is starting. You can taste it in the air. Regis isn't going to hold onto the throne until he dies anymore. He doesn't have to. And when he steps down, so will Clarus and, I think, so will I."

"But Father has Noctis and Clarus has Gladio. Who takes over as the Marshal of the Crownsguard if you step down?"

"I thought I'd ask Iris." Cor met her gaze, then added hastily: "After she's been trained up considerably."

"Of course." Reina fought the smile, but it broke through anyway. "I think she'd like that."

"Good." He nodded slowly and she had the distinct impression he had only brought that up to have her opinion on it. "Good," he repeated.

He squeezed her in his sideways hug once more before releasing her and walking away to join the growing noise. He was only gone a moment before Iris had taken his place.

"Cor's acting real weird," she said without preamble. "He said he wants me to train with him in the mornings now. For what? We just killed a god!"

Reina smiled, but didn't turn. "It's his way of accepting you. Embrace it."

"He's a weird one." She crossed her arms over her chest and came to stand by Reina. Her breath caught in her throat. "Wow. It really is beautiful from up here."

Reina said nothing, for there was nothing to say. They stood together in silent camaraderie, staring out over Lucis. The view was better than it had been from atop the Leville.

"Why did he have to go?" Iris said, breaking the silence abruptly. "It's just… if everyone was safe and he could have left any time, why didn't he stick around for us?"

"He was tired. Tired of carrying on. And I don't know if he could ever have believed he belonged among us."

"Well if he thought he wasn't one of us he was wrong." Iris crossed her arms. "Big dummy. What'd he think, we just kept him around for fun? He was way too obnoxious for that."

In spite of all her harsh words, a tear streaked down her cheek.

"I'm gonna miss that jerk," she said. "But I guess he'll always be a little part of us."

Ardyn, immortalized in someone like Iris. Whatever ultimate fate he had imagined for himself, that was doubtless not it.

"I think he would like to be remembered," Reina said. "Properly, for what he truly did."

A comfortable silence settled between them, stretching as the whole kingdom laid out beneath them.

"So. What do we do now?" Iris asked at length. "All the big bads are gone. Does life just… go back to how it was now?"

"No." Reina said. "I don't think anything will ever be how it was before. Not for any of us. But if you're concerned that things will be too boring without any gods trying to kill us, I expect there will be plenty of chaos associated with Noctis' rule."

"Oh sheesh. I think I'd rather have boring."

"And plenty of excitement associated with his wedding," Reina added.

"His what?! I thought that was called off!"

Reina glanced over her shoulder. Among the familiar crowd, Noctis and Luna stood apart, off to one side. She stood with her back against the bulkhead and he leaned against one arm, braced beside her. Luna was beaming. Noctis was pink around the ears.

"I suspect it may be called back in time," Reina said. "Though that is mere hearsay. Breathe not a word to Noctis."

"My lips are sealed." Iris mimed zipping her lips shut and skipped off. Doubtless to tell someone who was not Noctis, who would later tell Noctis, who would be annoyed with Reina for spreading rumors.

Oh well.

Ignis caught her eye as she stared back into the ship, watching Iris go. He smiled. Not the hesitant, wavering smile that Noctis gave Luna, but the full expression, more in his eyes than on his lips.

"No interest in joining the revelry?" He asked as he approached. "Weskham has captured several pairs of ears with tales of your father as a young boy. They are made all the more amusing by Cid's commentary."

"No doubt," Reina said. "I expect celebrations will find me eventually, no matter how I hide. But I'll take what quiet I can get."

"It was a mixed victory," Ignis agreed. "Though I expect none feel his loss more keenly than you do."

"He was my only friend for so long."

And that was why she needed to let him go.

"And for the rest of us, we had only begun to appreciate the depth of what he was and could have been. A tragic end to a tragic man."

"Tragic?" Reina twisted a bit of tangled hair around her fingertips. "I suppose you might call him that. But no. His end was the happiest it could have been. He had been craving death for two thousand years. So call it bittersweet."

"I see," Ignis said. "Then it is for ourselves we must mourn. In granting what he wanted most, we are the ones who suffer in the loss of his company."

"That we do."

When everything was dark, he had turned her humor as dark as the night so that she could still find a reason to laugh. He had been her truth in a world of lies. Her reason for carrying on for so many years.

He inched closer until he could wrap his arms around her. His head was still well above hers, even standing with his chest to her back.

"What will you do now?" Ignis asked. "Before your Dream, you were a princess tending her ailing father. Now your father is hale and your brother has taken up all affairs of the kingdom—though I daresay he would happily share, if you asked."

"I do not ask," she said. "There is nothing of my old life I would preserve."

"Nothing?"

She tipped her head back to look up at him. "No. Instead I would stand level with Father and Noctis, rather than cowered beneath and behind. I would abstain from political decisions. I would take my Dreams in hand and not flee from them. And I would have a friend in those companions I once counted as merely someone else's friend."

"Then friends you shall have."

Not far away, Noctis and Luna were discussing plans to go out for sushi. It sounded comfortable.

"When all this quiets down," Reina said. "Take me out for coffee."

"I should be delighted, Your Highness."

They landed in Insomnia not long after. The Citadel square was closed off and a great crater still smoldered where once there had been a fountain, but pedestrians packed thickly around the gate and fence to watch the Magitek Engine touch down. The sight of Lucian royalty landing in an imperial vessel was an odd one, and the flashing cameras promised that images of King Regis standing at the top of the ramp waving would be on the front page of every newspaper tomorrow.

But Reina didn't have to deal with that.

She crept away while the others were still walking through official procedure and before the army of attendants and councilors closed in. She craved the cold embrace of the Starscourge and its peerless ability to make her disappear. But that was gone. So she contented herself with slipping away and making her way to the upper levels on less-travelled paths.

She was halfway there before hurried footsteps caught up with her.

"Reina," Ravus called after her.

Reina turned. He wasn't wearing any shoes and he seemed to have lost his coat entirely. He stopped when she turned. Whatever words had sent him racing after her now stalled on his lips.

"I… came to bid you farewell," he managed.

"So soon?"

"Our task is complete. You and Noctis are safe, free to rule Lucis in peace and prosperity. My sister is freed from her fate."

"Where will you go?" She asked.

"Tenebrae has need of a king."

"I see." She struggled between joy that he would take up that mantle for himself and put the pieces of a once-magnificent kingdom back together, and sadness that she had to bid farewell to him so soon. She took a step forward. "But surely Tenebrae has been without a king for a very long time… and it could wait a few more days. We never did get the chance to catch up. Not properly."

He stood, mouth open and eyes wide, for long enough that his tongue must have dried out. Then he shut his mouth with a snap, wetted his lips, and tried a few words. "If… you would have me stay some while longer… Tenebrae could wait."

"I would like to know you again, Ravus."

"As would I, you." He stood, so still he might have been a statue, studying her for long enough that it stretched toward uncomfortable.

"I'm not ready to think about anything past that yet," she said.

The intensity of his gaze broke. He looked away, back down the hall from which he had come. "I… understand. In truth, I cannot think further, myself."

"Then we'll get to know each other," she said. "And see what time brings."

"What time brings," he agreed.

They went their separate ways. The upper levels of the Citadel were all but deserted, containing only those permanent Crownsguards and a few lingering attendants, all of whom were quiet and discreet. Reina's footsteps echoed on the marble as she followed the hall to her rooms. They were much as she had left them, save for one difference. Her violin was laid out on her bed.

It ought to have been left in Hammerhead when they had all gone their separate ways in a hurry. Yet here it was in Insomnia.

Reina ran her fingers over the textured case before flicking the latches open. A piece of paper was set atop her violin with a single line of writing on it.

Won't you play something, little Dreamer? Just for me?

A tear dropped onto the note, smudging his writing. She pressed the page to her chest, drying it on her torn blouse and turning to sit on her bed beside the violin case. She was still sitting there half an hour later when someone knocked on her door.

She had come in here to change out of her torn and bloodied clothes. So much for looking more presentable.

"Who is it?" She called.

"The emperor of Niflheim," Noctis said. "Who do you think it is? Can I come in?"

Reina smiled in spite of herself, swiped at her cheeks. "Yes."

He pushed the door open, looking from her to her open violin case and back. "What's that?" He nodded toward the note.

She held it out to him. He took it, eyes flicking over it twice before he handed it back. "Cheeky bastard."

"He never planned to come back from Angelgard," she said.

Noctis dropped onto the bed next to her. He opened his mouth to say something, shut it again, and shook his head. There was nothing he could say.

"People were starting to ask where you were. Figure I'd come find out," he said at last.

"I thought I'd leave the public to you and Father. You all seemed to be handling just fine without me."

"Oh yeah, sure," he said. "If by 'fine' you mean 'fighting the impulse to run away screaming.' Did you know Dad's planning to abdicate? He told me on the way back that when I'm ready, he's dropping this whole mess in my lap."

"Good." Reina smiled.

"Don't tell me you think I could use the extra responsibility."

"No. I was thinking that Father has earned a break."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess he has. But don't think you're getting out of this easy. I plan to have you on the council."

"You might appoint me," Reina said. "But don't expect me to show up."

"You'll have to. By royal decree."

"Are you going to make me?"

Noctis groaned. "No."

"Noctis, whatever wisdom I may or may not have is yours, though I would prefer to give council in private and only when asked. My Dreams are ever at your disposal, as I believe Bahamut's demise will free my foresight once more. Beyond that, I will do what you ask of me. But in return I request that you leave me out of the political process as much as possible."

"Right," he said. "I guess that's fair. You deserve your own break."

He stood up, stretching. "And so do I, but Dad's going to start wondering what happened to me if I don't get back down there. I'll make sure to drag him up before dinner time."

True to his word, Noctis did manage to escape with their father by the time the kitchens served dinner. Not only that, but the whole crew—three retinues for three royals—came with him. The dining table had to be extended; Father sat at the head of the table with Reina and Noctis on either side of him. It was difficult to remember if she had ever seen him so happy before. His smile was contagious, as it always had been for her. He toasted to his children—the King of Light and twin sister in the shadows. Both equal in his eyes, however stark their differences now and before.

Following dinner, Reina held her first recital in five years. The upstairs drawing room was opened and, in addition to their dinner company, a host of others flocked to the music. Nyx Ulric, Ravus and Luna, father's remaining councilors, and a host of servants, to name a few.

Reina set Ardyn's note beside her violin case as she tested her strings and tuned her violin. Her bow still needed to be rehaired.

She had time.

Once all was arranged and the seated company had fallen silent, she made good on Ardyn's last request to her.

Tonight she played for Ardyn. Just for Ardyn. In sorrow and pain. In mourning. In bittersweet joy of a friend and a lover lost forever. Never again would she be known like he had known her. She would never again need to be.

Tears fell steadily down her cheeks, pooling in the chin rest of her violin and tracing the line of her neck down to her shirt.

When at last she finished her lament and lowered her violin, the drawing room was silent. Even the servant who had moved among the seated audience with a tray of drinks had forgotten what he was meant to be doing. A slow applause began, starting with Father and spreading out. The servant recalled himself and continued, making his way all the way up to Reina to offer her a glass of champagne. Father took one as the tray passed and climbed to his feet.

"To Ardyn Lucis Caelum." He lifted his glass.

A confused murmur ran through assembled servants, Crownsguards, and councillors. But those who had been on Angelgard rose to stand with Father.

"To Ardyn," they murmured, glasses raised.

Reina glanced over the assembled face. In this he was vindicated. Never again would the truth be lost in Caelum history. She would see to it.

She took a glass of champagne from the servant and lifted it.

"To Ardyn," she said. "The true hero of this tale."

Well. Here we are. At the end of all things. Some three and a half years since I wrote the first words of this series, it's finally coming to a close. It's not an exaggeration to say this story changed my life and I hope it touched yours in some way too. To all my readers, old and new: thank you. Thank you for all of your comments, your kudos, and your support. I don't know where I would be without you.

As some of you are already aware, this is the last fanfic I plan to ever write. But I won't be putting down my metaphorical pen. For the last year or so I've been working on an original series. It turns out actually getting a book published is a very long process, but maybe someday you'll be able to look me up and find something solid. For those of you who enjoy my writing and are interested in trying something new, I will need a few beta readers for book 1, which is currently being edited. Drop me a message or a comment if you're interested. If you want to keep up with my writing journey and/or be notified if and when my book gets published, you can sign up for email updates on emerydrake . com

As for this story… well. It does have an epilogue of sorts. I drafted it a while back, when the idea for a possible sequel wandered through my head. The epilogue isn't ready to be posted yet, but keep your notifications on. It'll show up eventually. That conceptualized sequel, it occurred to me, would likely be so far removed from FFXV that it would no longer even be considered fanfic. So. Maybe you'll see it on a shelf one day and you can grin at your superior knowledge of every character's backstory.

I'm going to miss posting chapters and reading your comments every week. It's been a huge part of my life for the last three and a half years. If you want to keep in touch, let me know. Even though I'm not planning to post any more (barring aforementioned epilogue), my account is still linked to my email, so I'll always see comments and messages.

I suppose that's it. I can't think of anything else to say except: Thank you. And:

Walk tall, my friends.