Interlude
Lunafreya awoke to the feeling of a small, wet nose nudging her cheek. „Stop it, Umbra," she murmured, barely even half-awake, and stretched out a hand to hold Umbra back by his chest before he slobbered her face in an over-enthusiastic greeting. Yet her fingers brushed the soft fur of a creature much smaller than her dog. When she opened her eyes, she was looking into the face of a green-furred fox with extra large ears and a long, bushy tail. A small, ruby-red horn protruded from his forehead.
„Oh, it's you," she said. „Carbuncle." It must have been ten years or more since she had last seen the High Messenger in her dreams.
With some effort, Luna gathered enough strength to push herself up into a sitting position. Her body felt drained and weakened. Numb in some places and like pins and needles in others. She was almost certain that her infection had worsened, although perhaps not by much. Her magical perception was still recovering from the overflowing light of the Crystal.
The world she found herself in was strange and surreal. Her mind worked hard to understand how she could feel smooth, solid ground beneath her, when she could see none. She seemed to be adrift, in a way, in an otherworldly night sky. Nebulae in blue, red and purple blended into each other, creating a colourful backdrop for the lights twinkling in the distance. A kind of natural magic, raw and ancient like that of the Crystal, permeated this realm.
„Am I asleep?" she asked Carbuncle. At the very least, she had never seen him outside of a dream before.
„Not anymore!" With a cheerful chirping noise, Carbuncle turned around and walked a few steps away, to the feet of a woman who had only just appeared in a soft glow.
„This is the heart of the Crystal," the stranger explained. „The Astral realm, a crossroads in time and space." She wore sandals, a white dress and delicate gold jewellery. Her hair was the same light blonde as Luna's, but cut at chin-length. The woman also appeared to be a little older than her.
Even at a glance, Luna could tell that she was looking at one of her ancestors, but no name came to her mind. „I'm sorry," she said as she struggled back to her feet. „I know I should, but I cannot recall your name." She knew her family's history well. Each and every Oracle had her likeness captured in some form of art. There should not be an Oracle she did not know of.
„It is not your fault that you do not remember," the woman said and smiled benignly. „Somnus spread many a lie after my death. I am Aera Mirus Fleuret, the First Oracle. Pleased to make your acquaintance." She made a move to help Luna get to her feet, but her fingers passed through Luna's arm. „Ah, I'm sorry." Aera laughed softly, looking abashed. „I sometimes forget that I no longer have a physical form."
„So you are the first of my line?" Luna asked, trying to understand how they were related exactly. Her family was not as much of a straight line as the line of Kings. Unlike house Caelum, house Fleuret had seen many siblings, and sometimes the magical abilities had been passed down by brothers to daughters, even though they only manifested in the women of her family.
„Not directly, I'm afraid," Aera explained. „That would have been my sister, Tera Mirus Fleuret. Somnus made her into the First Oracle and travelled the lands with her, so that his people were quick to forgive and forget my murder. By accepting her role, she took my name and hers was forgotten."
Behind of her, in another soft glow, a man in black robes appeared. He stood with his back half-turned towards them and his arms crossed. „Don't you go slandering my name as well, Aera. You know full well I never meant to strike you down that day. What I did afterwards, I only did to ensure the kingdom's peace."
Her lips formed a thin line and the look in her eyes grew steely. „Well, tell me, King of Lucis; Have you found your descendant yet?" Aera turned around to him with her head held high. „Because unlike you, I never lost sight of my sister's child or my beloved."
His expression hardened. „The Lucii are looking for him as we speak," he admitted.
„Noctis," Luna uttered in a breath. „What happened to him?"
„Come and I'll show you," Aera said, and she had regained her light-hearted tone of voice as quickly as she had lost it. She went ahead and Carbuncle bounded after her, chirping.
As Luna went to follow her she could not help but stare at Somnus' face in passing. His resemblance to Noctis was uncanny, as she had been told before, but from the expression in his eyes to his demeanour and the way he spoke, the difference between them could not be greater. The moment she walked away from the spot where she had come to, Somnus disappeared.
Although there were no landmarks, Aera seemed to know exactly which way they had to go. „Due to the Draconian's intervention," she explained. „Noctis and Ardyn have fallen through the Crystal. Only you were saved, thanks to the efforts of the Glacian."
The nebulae parted, and Bahamut himself appeared in the distance. Although the Cosmogony had pictured him as a man with the horns and the wings of a black dragon, his true form was that of a warrior, clad in a dark blue and golden armour with draconic features. His helmet resembled the wide open jaws of a dragon, his gauntlets and boots ended in claws, and a tail made of the same golden and blue armour swung behind him. In place of wings, flowing ribbons of dark red fabric were attached to his back.
Underneath of a ball of brilliant golden light, greater than any of the Astrals, Bahamut swung a greatsword at the many, much smaller apparitions of Shiva. At the same time, blades of light danced around him, keeping the Pyreburner and his flames at bay. Titan was there as well, pressing his hands against the ball of light in what looked like an attempt to hold back the energy.
Luna did not stop walking to watch the fierce battle, and yet, the angle from which she observed never changed, nor did she come closer. Space itself seemed to be warped in the realm of the Astrals.
„What do you mean, they have fallen through the Crystal?" she asked Aera and stopped abruptly as sharp-angled planes of varying sizes became visible around her. They mirrored the colourful night sky of the realm like the shards of a broken mirror, making them near impossible to spot from afar.
Aera turned back to her. „Within the Crystal lies the soul of our Star. Everything our world is, has ever been, will ever be, or could be." She gestured at the shards nearby. „Each of its myriad facets reflects one possible future, past or present, be it good or bad."
„A dream is just a glimpse into another world," Carbuncle chirped, cheerful as only the little Messenger could be. „I'm here to pick the good ones, or make the bad ones less bad."
Luna took a close look at one of the shards, and as she approached, the reflection cleared to reveal an image of her brother. He was lying on the floor in the council chamber of the Citadel and screaming, writhing in pain, as purple flames burned his left arm to ashes. The Ring of the Lucii rolled ownerless across the charred floor.
„Ravus," she uttered in a gasp, before realising that it was not real, or at least, it was something that had not happened in her version of Eos. Hastily, she stepped back and the facet returned to its mirror-like state.
Another shard drifted slowly past her. It showed Noctis and herself, still in her wedding gown. Behind the newly wedded couple, men in ceremonial dress were carrying a casket, atop of which lay the Chancellor's hat.
Yet another shard revealed a curious scene. Ardyn was sitting at a table in a modern-day apartment and packing up small dolls in gift boxes while a very much alive-looking Somnus lounged lazily on a couch in the background. Luna could not make sense of that one at all.
The images faded again.
When she turned back to Aera and Carbuncle, she noticed a single black particle in the air. Her sensed were still dulled, but recovered slowly. The dark presence of the Accursed felt so faint and distant that she had not noticed it at first. There was another particle, further up ahead. They seemed to mark a trail towards a particular facet of the Crystal, like a thin column of smoke rising from a crash site. It led to the facet Aera was standing next to.
„Without guidance, I fear that neither Ardyn nor Noctis will find their way back," the First Oracle said, and her eyes trailed the stray particles with great concern. „Lunafreya, as the sole living person in this realm, only you can cross over. I beseech you to bring back my beloved. Carbuncle will help you."
The little green fox at her side chirped in response. „Only say the word, and I'll open a way back for you!"
The Crystal's facet next to Aera was about as large as a grown man. As Luna approached it, the mirror images of herself, Aera and Carbuncle faded away. Beyond the shard lay a land of blue skies and golden fields of wheat. A lone, white tower rose in the distance.
#-#-#
Back in front of the Citadel, Ravus, half-way drenched by the rainstorm and with his hair sticking to his face, readied his sabre to intercept Odin as the High Messenger took another run-up at the building. Sleipnir was charging towards him up the stairs, its head was lowered to run Ravus right through with its horn.
„Gravisphere, now!" he shouted over to the scrawny blonde. Names? He did not know and did not care. This was not the time for introductions.
The scrawny gunner turned around to him. „Eh, what?"
„Gravisphere! Now!" Ravus repeated with greater urgency.
Finally, the blonde switched firearms to shoot a gravisphere at Sleipnir's head. He did not hit his target, but the pull of the artificial centre of gravity was still strong enough to force the Spiracorn to turn its head, and thus, its horn, away from Ravus.
A second before it might have trampled Ravus, he slashed at the creature's front legs. Thanks to his lightning-imbued blade and the damage already dealt by Noctis' retainers, he cut clean through the first pair of front legs and into the second. Ravus jumped to the side as Sleipnir collapsed mid-run on the staircase. First, its limbs dissolved in a golden glow, then the rest of its body followed, and the black-armoured warrior jumped off his steed at the last moment so as not to go down with it.
A gust of wind as strong as a shockwave rushed down the staircase when Odin landed in front of the Citadel's entrance.
The former High Commander was knocked over, but managed to roll back to his feet a little further down the stairs. At the same time, the gunner tumbled off the side of the staircase and dropped with a splash into the water basin below. The Prince' Shield, who had braced himself against his great shield, caught Valyria by her wrist before she, too, would have been pushed off the edge.
„Regroup!" the Royal Advisor shouted. A split second later and Ravus would have issued the same command.
There was a moment for all combatants to catch their breath and reassemble. It was also their first opportunity to send someone to go and get the former Commodore. Now that Sleipnir was out of the way, Ravus could part with one ally. He liked Aranea no more than any other Niff, but her skills with the magitek-enhanced spear were unparalleled. She was, without a doubt, a valuable ally.
But who to send? From what he had seen so far, Ravus had narrowed the choice down to either the young gunner or the Royal Advisor. The gunner he had chosen, because … Well, the sight of him dragging himself up the staircase, dripping wet, was enough reason why already. He seemed to attract mishaps Ravus could do well without. The Advisor Ravus had chosen, because they were both able to coordinate a team, making one of them redundant. In contrast to the Shield and Sword, the Advisor also did not add considerably to their attack force. However, he could be trusted to make the right decisions on the way to the wreckage of Aranea's ship and back.
Ravus shook out his sword and a last bolt of lightning flickered across the blade before the spell wore off. „You there, Royal Advisor," he addressed the bespectacled man standing further down the stairs.
„His name's Ignis," Valyria corrected him.
„Fine," Ravus bit back and cast a quick glance at Ignis. „I want you to go and look for Aranea. Now."
In a flash of gold, a lance appeared in Odin's left hand.
„What, now?" the Shield protested.
„Yes, now! Do you always question orders you've been given?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Ravus saw the Shield clenching his teeth.
„You can't send Iggy," Valyria objected. „What about the daemons out there?"
Ravus readied his sword once more. The High Messenger, who did not care about their conversation in the least, was walking towards him, slowly, but determined. „I will not suffer your insubordination, Valyria, so hold your tongue lest you want me to turn my blade to you!"
With a quick step forwards, Odin thrust his lance at him. Ravus deflected the attack and dove below the follow-up slash of the deadly blade to step around the warrior and retaliate, yet his sabre only caught Odin's cape.
„I will go," he heard Ignis shout from the foot of the staircase. „We mustn't fight among ourselves."
At least he understood. Ignis' words proved to Ravus that he had made the right choice. Now, he only needed to coordinate this bunch of misfits. „Focus your attacks!" he ordered them. The sharp edge of Odin's sword forced him back as he tried to lunge at the High Messenger again.
From the other side, the Prince's Shield swung his great sword at Odin, but his blade was stopped by the hilt of Odin's lance. With a slash of his deadly sword, the Messenger cleaved right through the Shield's blade, snapping it in two. Suddenly left with only half a weapon, the Prince's Shield stumbled back.
Valyria immediately rushed in to close the gap and covered the divine warrior, top to bottom, in roaring flames from Solferrum's blade that spread like the wings of a flaming bird.
On the other side, Ravus backed away from the heat.
Odin swung both weapons around himself, shaking off the fire and forcing Valyria back, then raised his sword high above his head. A golden glow engulfed his blade.
„Scatter!" Ravus shouted in alarm.
In the nick of time, the Shield and Sword jumped out of the way.
When Odin brought his sword down, it cut down the entire length of the staircase. The unlucky gunner, who was still on his way back up the stairs, had opened fire at the Messenger again, but the cut reached further than expected. His auto crossbow was rent apart as he dodged to the side.
At this rate, they were going to run out of weapons before long.
Ravus cast a bolt of lightning at Odin from behind, dodged another swing of the Messenger's blade to retaliate with an uppercut that drove his opponent a step back, and followed up with a more focused blast of magic. When Odin raised his sword to protect himself, Ravus noticed that the blade seemed to attract the bolts of lightning. Although Odin's stoic expression showed no emotion, sparks flew from his entire armour. The lightning ran right through him.
„Valyria!"
„On it!" The Sword took over the moment Ravus ran out of magic, and continued to push Odin further down the stairs, away from the building. Sparks flew as she clashed blades with the divine being. Only Solferrum withstood the sharp edge of Odin's sword without breaking. The orange orb embedded into the legendary arm glowed brighter the more flames leapt from its blade at the opponent. Yet although the High Messenger's armour began to glow red from the heat building up, he held his ground.
Ravus tried to summon the lightning again to aid her in her efforts, but his limbs felt leaden all of a sudden and he was overcome by a temporary dizzy spell. This had to be stasis. „Curses!" he hissed.
With another round slash, Odin cleared the space around him, knocking back both Valyria and the Shield, before he jumped off the staircase, down to the courtyard. Once more, he raised his blade for a devastating cut.
Just then, electricity crackled in the air. A massive amount of magic gathered around them. Ravus lifted his gaze to the skies. Was it the blood of the Oracle in his veins that had summoned the Astral? Or were they taking pity on him, the fool, who had tried so hard to be worthy of their recognition?
„Mighty Stormsender!" Ravus shouted to the skies. „Cast your divine judgment on our foe!"
Thunder boomed as the clouds parted, and the Fulgurian descended with his staff in hand. Ramuh's appearance was that of an old, bald man with an enormous white beard that melded with his blue robe where his feet should be. With every strike of lightning that hit his staff, Ramuh's hand jerked further up.
Meanwhile, Odin's blade had begun to glow with an intense, golden light. The black-armoured warrior's gaze was fixed on Ravus atop the stairs. Thin, harmless bolts of lightning formed between the clouds and Odin's raised blade. When the High Messenger finally looked up, Ramuh cast his staff down at him. It transformed into a massive bolt of glaringly bright lightning that struck Odin and singed the courtyard. Odin's entire body lit up and spasmed for a second before it burst into a shower of golden particles.
Ravus bowed before the god as a sign of his gratitude and respect. „Praise be to the Fulgurian," he said.
The Stormsender faded away, the rain stopped, clouds dissipated and the night sky with its peacefully twinkling stars returned. Odin was gone. Only a charred pothole remained where Ramuh's bolt of lightning had hit the Citadel's courtyard.
„Holy crap! Did you summon Ramuh?" the scrawny gunner asked, walking up the rest of the stairs to join them.
„If only it were so," Ravus replied and sheathed his sword. Out of habit, not out of necessity. „Perhaps my sister has sent him, or perhaps he sensed our need for assistance. Either way, there is still a greater battle ahead. We need to be thankful for any aid that is offered."
„What now? Should we go after Ignis?" the Shield asked.
„No," Ravus replied. „Take stock of the weapons you have left, treat any wounds and save your strength. We do not have the luxury of wearing ourselves out on the daemons that roam Insomnia's streets. Noctis' advisor can call for help if he needs it, though I doubt that he will." He turned around and walked towards the Citadel's entrance, prompting the others to follow him. „The man moves strategically. He will be able to avoid the daemons on his way."
They settled on the black couches around the hall. From his share of Noctis' armiger, the Shield summoned a towel to pass it to the scrawny blonde, who was still dripping wet from his accidental dive into the water basin.
Technically, the Citadel offered everything; Bathrooms, kitchen, beds. They were not theirs to use, but with no one else present, who was going to complain? Washing up and lying down, however, was another luxury Ravus could not afford, not with the Bladekeeper making an entrance anytime soon. He tried to fix his hair as best as he could before sitting down. – Ravus hated looking so dishevelled. It was beneath his standards.
While his allies took stock of their arms, he tried to squeeze in some rest. Once the excitement of battle waned, his sore shoulder began to cramp up. He closed his eyes and sunk against the backrest. Luna's efforts had helped, but still, Ravus doubted he was going to dual-wield two swords again soon. For the time being, he would have to make due with just one blade and this elemental magic Noctis had granted him.
„Uhm, do you mind if I …?"
When Ravus cracked an eye open, the scrawny blonde whose name he still did not know held up his smart phone.
„Why do you ask me for permission?"
„Prompto's afraid you're going to beat him up if he doesn't," the Prince's Shield replied.
„Yeah, with the stick you've got up your …," Valyria mumbled, but the Shield jabbed her with his elbow before she could finish the sentence. „Ow, Gladio!"
Ravus shot her a glare. Noctis was clearly not the only Lucian who lacked proper decorum.
Her face was flushing. „Sorry," she said and fidgeted sheepishly with a red lock of her hair.
In the meantime, Prompto had been tapping and swiping at his phone. A strange method of recuperation, but Ravus was not going to question it. Being roughly eight years older was apparently enough to get out of touch with the habits of the younger generation.
„Oh. Em. Gee," Prompto exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at the brightly lit screen.
„What is it?" Gladio asked.
„Nothing," he hastily replied and pulled the phone close to his chest as if to hide whatever he had been looking at.
A mischievous grin spread on Gladio's face. He got up to walk over. „Oh, now I gotta see." Noctis' Shield dropped down on the other couch and simply took the smart phone from the gunner's hand.
Prompto's eyes darted over to Ravus, but he avoided the eye contact, while Gladio examined whatever he had found online. Although he was trying to hide his grin by clapping a hand over his mouth, Gladio nearly burst with laughter. „Hey, Ravus! Is this the reason the Empire had you on a tight leash?"
Ravus narrowed his eyes at him. „What are you talking about?"
Curiosity having gotten the better of her, Valyria, too, walked over. „Lemme see."
Gladio turned the screen to her. All that Ravus could make out from the other side of the reception hall was a video clip of people dancing.
„Oh! Oh, that's what you found!" she exclaimed and a chuckle escaped her lips despite of how firmly she pressed them together. „Sorry, Lord Ravus, but this is still grade A blackmailing material." She turned to the scrawny blonde. „How did you even find that? I thought the internet was down all across Insomnia."
„The guest wi-fi is still working."
Ravus was starting to get an idea of what they were looking at. Finally, he too, rose from his spot to join the three of them on the other side of the reception hall.
Noctis' friends were watching a video clip that showed Ravus at the age of fifteen, whose hair had been shorter then, but already combed back in an orderly manner. He was wearing fancy glasses and glowing bracelets, going all out amidst a jumping and cheering crowd at a public Tenebraen dance club. Fittingly, the title of the video read „Prince of Rave".
For Ravus, there was nothing to be ashamed about. It had been a phase in his life. „What? Have you never snuck away from home to have fun elsewhere when you were a teen?"
„You? Having fun?" Glasio asked with a chuckle.
„This video was taken one year before the invasion of Fenestala Manor," Ravus explained. Ever since, his life had been just one misery after another. Fun had become a distant memory. But back then, when his life had been happier and the times less worrisome, dancing had been a decent diversion from his daily routine of studying and training. Ravus doubted that Noctis had ever worked as diligently towards becoming a worthy ruler as he had. Judging by the Prince's attitude and skills, Regis had probably allowed him to lounge around for half his life.
„I still have the moves," Ravus claimed in response to the challenging smirk on Gladio's face.
The smirk widened into a grin. „You're on."
„Sorry, boys!" a woman's voice resounded through the reception hall. „But the party doesn't start till this lady walks in!"
„Aranea!" Prompto exclaimed in relief.
In the open doorway of the middle door stood the former Commodore with the arm of one of her right-hand men slung around her shoulder. Pieces of her shoulder plates had broken off, her helmet was missing and there was a bloody scratch across her cheek, but all things considered, she was doing well. At least better than her men.
The one she was dragging with her through the doorway had his head bandaged and dried blood was coating the lower leg of his trousers. He appeared to be barely conscious. Biggs? Or was Wedge the one in the dark trench coat? Ravus always confused them.
Ignis was helping the other one, the one in the white coat, through the entrance. His arm was in a makeshift sling and his face looked thoroughly roughed up, but that was not the reason he was struggling to stay upright. „Oi, Lady A! See? See! Told ya we'd make it!" He hiccuped. „'Twas either us or the daemons, right?"
„Don't mind Biggs," Aranea said to Noctis' party and lowered Wedge on an empty couch. „He's had a swig too many. Things weren't exactly looking pretty for us when we made it out of the wreckage."
„Their injuries were quite severe. I fear I had to use up my stock of potions just to get them back on their feet," Ignis added.
Biggs gave everyone a goofy grin and a thumbs up once he had made it to one of the many seating accommodations around the room, like it was something to be proud of.
„Where's the rest?" Aranea asked.
„Not in this realm anymore," Ravus replied. „They will battle the Bladekeeper from within the Crystal."
„Riiiight," Aranea replied and turned to him. „And who left you in charge? I was half-expecting the Prince to have sent you packing back to Niflheim."
„It's much worse than that. I've pledged my sword to his cause."
She put a hand to her hip, smiling. „Colour me impressed."