1. The Crown in the Darkness

In Prompto's defense, he hadn't meant to end up in the ancient ruins, alone with only his trusty lapel flashlight to guide the way. It happened so suddenly – one minute he was helping Noctis search for a missing dogtag, and the next the ground gave way beneath his feet, plunging him into the chilled depths. He'd been thankful to have his landing slightly softened by water, right up until the rushing river swept him away from the entrance, dropping him deeper into the ancient structure.

Prompto groaned as he came to another dead end. As awful as it sounded, he really wished Noctis was there with him. He didn't want his best buddy in trouble, but he'd feel a whole lot better if he had some company. Maybe then he wouldn't jump at every time shuffle of rock, every drip of water.

'Pull it together. It's just another empty ruin,' he chided himself, not daring to speak the words out loud. He turned around, making his way back through the winding passage and keeping an eye out for a split in the path.

Just an empty ruin.

A run-of-the-mill, underground, empty ruin.

A surprisingly intact empty ruin, whose murals of colorful, gleaming stone glinted as his light passed over them, so unlike any of the others they'd visited while exploring the lands outside of the Crown City. If he weren't so terrified by what may lurk there, Prompto would have examined the murals more closely or snapped a few pictures to show Ignis later.

Actually, it was strange. He should have encountered daemons the moment he came out at the bottom of the slide, but he hadn't see as much as a single imp.

Prompto shivered for a reason other than being cold and wet.

It should have brought him some form of comfort, the thought of not having to deal with daemons by himself while lost and trapped in an ancient structure, but it only intensified his feelings of unease.

He came to a new path and noted with some hope that it sloped upwards. That was a good sign, right? He had to go up in order to get out, so as long as he kept that in mind, he would be okay. Eventually he would find a way out. It was just like following the left wall to get out of a maze! (Right? Wait, was that right? He'd heard it somewhere before, but did that really work?)

Prompto shook his head and tried to focus on the situation at hand.

Step one, find a path leading up and out.

Step two... well, he didn't know what step two was, but he'd figure it out.

Step three, profit?

He fought back a giggle at the absurdity of his thoughts, which trailed off to a stop as he reached the top of the sloping path, where he came face-to-face with another dead end.

"No..." he breathed, feeling panic well up and lodge in his throat. His eyes stung with tears and he fiercely wiped them away.

There was another mural there, depicting a great horned Astral offering the image of the sun to a human figure. Maybe if he paid better attention to the lessons on the history of Solheim, he'd be able to make better sense of what he was seeing. What if there were clues on how to get out and he was missing them?

No, that was stupid. Stuff like that only happened in movies and video games, not real life.

It didn't stop Prompto from reaching out to touch the raised form of the sun, half wondering how the ancients accomplished such lasting feats of design. Even after thousands of years, there wasn't a decorative stone out of place.

The sun sank in from the light pressure of his fingertips and Prompto didn't have time to utter a despairing "uh oh" before the floor tipped under his feet and sent him painfully thudding into a chamber below.

Bright light assaulted his eyes and he tightly squeezed his eyes shut with a soft cry. Between that and the pain throbbing through his back thanks to his hard landing, all he knew was pain for several agonizingly long minutes.

He officially hated the ruins.

(Could it even be considered that? It wasn't exactly ruined.)

His eyes slowly adapted to the change in light and as he looked around the chamber, he realized he was in very real, very serious danger.

Two of the walls were slowly moving in, so quietly that at first he thought he was imagining it, and there was no exit in sight.

"No, no, no!" Prompto cried out, frantically struggling to his feet. He grabbed onto a podium in the center of the room, using it to stabilize himself as he searched the walls for any clues.

There had to be a way out! Another trigger, like the one that dropped him into danger! He just needed to be fast about finding it.

He couldn't die there, slowly and agonizingly crushed to death between hard stone. There was so much he still had to do! To see! How could he keep his promise to stand by Noct's side if he was dead!

Pure panic was setting in.

"Help!" Prompto shouted, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the stone chamber.

He received no response, not that he really expected one.

"Please." His next word came out as more of a sob, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to calm down. He had to calm down. If he panicked, he was doomed. "Can anyone hear me?"

Prompto lowered his eyes to the podium he was clutching for support. A podium which held an ornate golden crown, which emanated an aura of light that warped the air around it, not unlike heat waves on a hot summer day or the way burning embers distorted the air as it turned wood to charcoal. It was a work of beauty, all woven gold and tiny, delicate gears that actually moved. Ancient writings were printed across the thicker sides of the bands. The emblem of a sun, carved from golden crystal, was the centerpiece.

A part of Prompto wanted to pick it up and get a better look, but he wrenched his gaze away instead. "Bad idea. That's, like, the start of seventeen different horror films," he said to himself.

He wasn't going to make his impending death worse by getting himself cursed by an ancient artifact. Nuh uh. No thanks.

Prompto turned his attention back to the walls, morbidly wondering how badly his blood would stain the images. He shook his head. He had to stop thinking like that!

The murals...

They were everywhere that he looked. There had to be some kind of meaning to them all, or else why bother putting so much time and effort into them, especially in a chamber designed solely to kill whoever got stuck inside of it.

Dazzling crystals in an array of colors glimmered under the light of the crown, more detailed than anything else he'd come across. A giant of a man – maybe one of the Astrals? - was being presented with a golden crown, not unlike the one on the podium. He was there on every wall, in every scene, helping the people with what they needed.

It gave Prompto an idea.

He took a deep breath and tried to block out the fact that, in a few minutes, he would be firmly sandwiched between two walls and squeezed until he popped and became something that grotesquely resembled strawberry jam. He tried not to fidget too much as he summoned his camera to his hands and his words got stuck in his throat.

"Uh, so, I know I'm not worthy or anything. I'm not royalty or anyone special or even a true Crown citizen, but..." He fought the urge to touch his wristband and make sure it fully covered the mark it was meant to hide. Instead, he set his camera on the podium. "Please, if you can hear me, I really don't want to die here, and I know my camera isn't a great offering, but it's the most prized thing I have."

He eyed the walls, which steadily continued on their path, and swallowed fearfully. "P-please, I don't... I'll do anything you want! Please, help me!"

"Anything?"

It was a good thing Prompto already set down his camera, because he absolutely would have dropped it at the sound of a raspy, masculine voice. He whirled around to find a man with long, dark hair standing against an stationary wall, a scowl set on his sharp face. His eyes were the most unsettling thing about him, flickering red and orange like a blazing fire.

He stepped forward and Prompto's attention was down to his faded and torn robes, gray like ash and unfitting for a man – no, Astral, who radiated such raw power.

Prompto gulped.

He was in way over his head, practically drowning, but he couldn't back down. Promising anything to an unknown god was probably the worst mistake he could make, but it was either that or die an agonizingly painful death.

The Astral stared at him, waiting for an answer.

"Anything," Prompto agreed, his voice coming out as an embarrassing squeak.

The Astral didn't have the decency to laugh or even smirk, and instead walked over and took Prompto's chin in a tight grip, forcing him to look him in the eyes. Prompto didn't know what he was looking for, but the Astral must have been satisfied with what he saw because he soon released him and moved on to the crown.

Prompto watched him caress it with reserved reverence, all too aware of the walls, which had yet to stop. He hated to disrupt the moment the Astral was having, but he couldn't hold back. Not anymore. "So, uh, what about the walls? You know, the moving ones? The moving ones that are about to kill us both?"

The Astral looked wholly indifferent to what Prompto was saying, and without looking away from the crown, lifted one hand and snapped his fingers.

The walls stopped.

Prompto exhaled in relief. "Thanks! I really thought I was done for!"

"I am aware," said the Astral, but at least that time Prompto thought he could detect a hint of amusement. His victory over being vaguely amusing to the deity rather than annoying was short-lived, as the man turned to him with the crown in his hands.

Prompto's smile faded and he took a step back. "What are you going to do with that?"

"This is for you. It is the key to leaving this place."

"It's not cursed, is it?" Prompto asked warily, the words slipping out. He snapped his mouth shut, his eyes going wide as he realized he'd likely offended the deity standing before him.

"Cursed?" repeated the Astral, evidently thrown off guard. He glanced down at the crown in his hands and snorted in amusement. "An intriguing idea, however foolish. Had I wanted you dead, I would have let your pleas go unanswered." He looked Prompto up and down. "You are more interesting than I expected. Now step forward, Prompto Argentum."

Prompto's feet moved as if by their own accord until he stood directly in front of the Astral, and before he could protest or babble out a whole stream of questions, the crown was gently placed on top of his head, a pleasantly warm weight.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected to happen, but after a moment it became clear that was it. He lifted his head to meet the Astral's amused gaze, and the crown stayed perfectly in place, as though it had been made just for him.

"Now what?"

"Now, you leave," said the Astral, making a shooing gesture.

It had to be a trick, right? Did gods even play tricks?

"You haven't told me what you want," Prompto pointed out. "My offering, for saving my life. I still owe you."

"It has been a long time since anyone owed me something. I would like to cherish that feeling for a while longer," said the Astral. "Rest assured, Prompto Argentum, I will find you when the time is right to request my favor. For now, I leave you with a name – Rhyos. Remember it."

"Uh, sure?" Prompto responded, unsure of what else to say.

Rhyos, he tested the name in his mind. It was an unusual name for a god, but he'd never say that to his face.

He blinked and Rhyos was gone, leaving him alone in the chamber. "Okay, Prompto, lets get out of here," he said to himself. "Now, uh, how do I do that?"

.

.

Prompto was sure he'd been gone for hours, following bands of golden light through the twisting corridors, until finally he ascended a flight of stairs to a door marked with the emblem of the sun. It had taken thirty minutes to figure out how the crown worked and he wondered if Rhyos neglected to mention it on purpose. The Astral did seem to take some amusement from his confusion.

It was easy once he figure it out. All he had to do was command a door to open or ask for a way out and the crown did all of the real work.

One last door stood in his path to freedom.

Prompto reached out and pressed his palm flat against the sun. "Open."

As the door slid soundlessly open, Prompto quickly removed the crown from his head, and with a slight sense of guilt, stowed it away in the Armiger, purposefully hiding it in his bag. The top of his head tingled for a moment.

"Prompto!"

He didn't have time to brace himself before Noctis appeared in front of him in a shower of blue magic. His normally reserved best friend pulled him in for a tight hug and Prompto didn't need to hear his voice to feel the pure relief at seeing him alive.

He saw Gladio approach over Noctis's shoulder, watching the taller man call out to Ignis. They were all relieved to see him, he realized. Genuinely relieved, and not just because of Noct's worry. Prompto hadn't stopped to consider the close bond that had formed between them since leaving Insomnia, but the proof was right there if he ever needed it.

"Sorry, buddy. Didn't really mean to go cave diving, but, y'know," Prompto said with a shrug. "Next time I'll make sure to drag you with me."

"Ha," Noctis responded dryly, letting go of his friend. "We've been trying to find a way to get to you for hours. I wanted to jump in after you, but Ignis wouldn't let me. How did you get out?"

"Just got lucky, I guess," Prompto fibbed, not ready to explain everything that happened with Rhyos. Maybe later, once he had time to process everything for himself. All he wanted at that moment was dry clothing and food. It didn't have to be Ignis's cooking – he'd settle for some cup noodles if it meant warm food in his belly. "So, where are we camping for the night?"

"Camping, after all of that?" Ignis asked as he and Gladio approached. "I think not. Our funds can handle one night of splurging for two hotel rooms."

Not even Gladio looked too upset by the proposal, and he was usually the first to protest when there was a perfectly good haven nearby.

"Maybe I should fall into holes more often," Prompto joked in undertone to Noctis, who rolled his eyes and playfully shoved him.

Ignis sighed. "Do refrain from making a habit of this."

But Prompto wasn't listening, he was too busy getting lost in the daydream of a hot shower, comfortable bed, and good food in his near future, all thoughts of magic crowns and ancient gods fleeing his mind.