AUTHOR'S NOTE: TRIGGER WARNING ON THIS CHAPTER-ATTEMPTED ASSAULT-IF THIS SUBJECT MATTER UPSETS YOU, PLEASE SKIP TO THE NEXT CHAPTER.

[Direct Journal Entries]:

10th of May, M.E. 760

Came back to the homestead today to find My Only peeling potatoes. She was determined to make a hearty soup for me, even though I've told her not to do anything to tire herself out. I fretted over her standing at the stove for an hour, but once she gets something in her head, no man can talk her out of it.

I couldn't leave the Tomb of the Mystic alone. As it is the Founder King's tomb, I felt much needed information must lie within. That's why I hired Aranea and a few hunters to help me excavate. Using the magitek engine, we were able to lift some of the heavier rubble without causing any unnecessary injury. Once the larger pieces were laid aside, we began digging by hand. We still have some yet to go. However, Aranea was called away—something amiss near New Lestallum, I'm told—and the others I've hired decided it was an appropriate recess point. They wished to see their families, and truthfully, I've desperately missed Aleya. So I've returned for a few days, and then I'll be returning to finish the job.

Something important is buried there. I can feel it in my bones.

14th of May, M.E. 760

It's come time for me to return to the task at hand. I'll most likely be gone close to a month, as it took us nearly that long to tunnel down as far as we had. I am sure that what we find will be worth these long weeks away, these tiresome days of manual labor.

At least I leave with the knowledge that all is well at the homestead. Aleya's had no further complaints. Iris will be returning in two days' time to look after her in my absence. I suspect she's growing a bit resentful. She does have significant interests in Lestallum, after all.

As I said, all this—all that every one of us have coped with—will surely not be in vain.

7th of June, M.E. 760

As I've said, all our efforts were entirely worth it. We found the tomb buried in the rubble, and were able to retrieve it within short order. When we raised it aloft, there was discovered a compartment of sorts at the foot. I merely placed my hand over it to decipher the meaning, and it opened. Within: Scrolls. Ancient, very fragile.

Leya will be so eager to dive into deciphering it with me. What secrets do these scraps of paper contain?

9th of June, M.E. 760

There was trouble at the homestead when Ignis returned.

He had loaned his chocobo to a hunter with a broken leg, and had walked most of the distance across the meteor-well. Looking back later, he would always think that if he hadn't loaned his chocobo, he could have arrived sooner; Though he would never think of leaving an injured man without assistance in the world in which they were living. In any case, he was glad he arrived when he did, for Aleya (and Iris) had fallen into trouble once again.

It was nearer the camp when he heard the sounds of raucous laughter and merry-making. There was loud music, and the smell of roasting meat. It didn't sound a thing like his quiet home. When he got closer, Wiz rode out to meet him, and explained.

There were a group of hunters who had asked for asylum for the evening after taking down large prey. He complained that once he had extended his hospitality, they had taken advantage by distributing liquor and loudly celebrating. He complained the noise was upsetting his birds. Worst still, he said they seemed to deeply trouble Aleya and Iris. A few of them had already man-handled Iris; Though she certainly made them regret it. No one had touched Aleya, he assured him, but she seemed distressed over their presence. He said one of the hunters knew her, and wouldn't give her even a moment's peace.

Ignis knew all at once who that hunter must be, and he was already at the point of charging in, daggers drawn. He told him that Prompto had arrived with a message for Iris, and he was looking after his friend's little sister, and not to worry. But Ignis was indeed worried, and with good reason.

As he was having this conversation with Wiz, he had no idea what was occurring at camp:

The hunters had demanded blankets to bed down with in the caravan. It was clear they weren't leaving, so they felt they had no choice but to appease them and send them on their way after they had sobered up. Aleya returned with a stack of bedding and quite literally hurled them at the group.

"Here's the blankets," She snapped at the group sitting around a burning huddle of wood in the middle of the yard. "Would you please just put out the fire and turn in for the night? This is not a campsite, it's a home. Besides, you're keeping everyone this side of Duscae awake." She turned to Prompto. "Would you mind getting the lanterns out of the holding shed?"

Prompto was wary of leaving the scene, but was always eager to help. "S-sure," he stammered. "I'll be right back." He glared at the group of hunters. "Right! Back!" And he lit off for the back of the building quickly.

"You're all making such a mess," Iris complained, carrying the huge bag of garbage she had just collected back to the kitchens.

With the other two gone, the lead hunter finally made his move. He stood slowly and approached Leya with a swagger, staring at her mid-section. She pulled her sweater closer to herself, crossing her arms self-consciously, trying to avoid eye contact. She turned her head. She was obviously teeming with disdain. "Well, look at you," he said. "You really went and done it. You got yourself knocked up." He grabbed her chin.

She pulled away aggressively before turning to leave. He grabbed her arm. "Stop it!" She demanded fiercely, trying to yank her arm out of his grasp. "Let go!"

"Don't tell me…Shades must be the daddy, huh?"

She curled her lips in to bare her teeth slightly. "Let me go, Alvor!"

He instead pulled her closer. He relished the startled look in her eyes. "You broke Galahdian tradition for that stuck-up bookworm? If you were dying to take a tumble in the sack with someone so badly, it should have been your own kind." He stretched out his other hand, pressing it under her arm, close to her breast. "Like me."

She pulled away, kicking him hard in the shin. She wanted to hurt him badly, but there was very little she could do at nearly six months' pregnant. Even if she could have, she had promised Ignis proper caution and care. "You're drunk! Let go of me!"

One of the hunters, a girl—Idelle-stood up behind him. "Let her go, Alvor. You're going to do something you'll regret tomorrow."

She managed to twist out of his grasp briefly, but he grabbed her back again by the forearm, tightly squeezing his grip. She clawed at his hand while she stomped on his instep repeatedly, but he didn't seem to feel it. Instead, he reached out his other arm and grabbed her by the side of her shirt, pulling her in again.

"Know what I think?" He asked Aleya, twisting her shirt up in his hand at the waist. She struggled to get loose, and he wrenched her arm hard in punishment. She let out a cry of pain, sinking a bit. "I think he spoiled you for me."

She was truly concerned now, recognizing the danger. He wouldn't be letting her go, and he was too drunk to reason properly. He was stronger than her, as he had the fuel of liquor, and she was busy protecting the child within her. Any physical fight with him was a danger not only to herself, but Ignis' baby. "Stop!" She cried, prying at the fingers that were wrenching her wrist and elbow backwards. "Alvor, it hurts! Prompto! Help! Prompto!"

He didn't seem concerned about Prompto. He didn't seem as if he even heard her. Instead, he wrenched her arm harder in punishment for the interruption, causing her to let out a muffled scream of pain. As her mouth was open in gasping suffering, he dove in, trying to get his mouth over hers. She ducked and shoved hard, chancing a broken arm to get loose.

"Come here!" He spat, and he wrapped his other arm around her, pressing her against his chest. She managed to get her other arm up, striking his nose upwards with the palm of her hand. He jerked her sideways hard, and she nearly lost her balance before he had grabbed her up again. As she struggled, pleading to Idelle to help her, he slid his hand down, grabbing a handful of her backside roughly. His breath smelled of alcohol and he was bleeding profusely from his nose. "Well, since he spoiled you for me, I'm going to spoil you for him, too."

She turned her head in a disgusted grimace, letting out a frantic, sobbing whimper as he opened his mouth and pressed his tongue to her throat. "Stop it!"

And then, out of nowhere, an arm shoved him away aggressively, while another held her steady from a potential stumble.

"Unhand her, damn you!" After she was rapidly and properly balanced, the arm around her moved away, and a fist slammed into Alvor's temple. Then another strike from the opposite fist, across the cheekbone, furiously fast.

Alvor stumbled sideways, only to meet another hard punch.

He fell, and then scrambled to his feet as Ignis held on to his collar gamely. "Well, look who it is!" He cried. His brain was dull and sluggish, and he had no idea who he was tangling with. He pulled a revolver from his back pocket. However, before there was the merest glint of steel, Ignis' palm caught it and shoved it away with one hand while the other elbow came down, landing in his temple. And before Alvor could even think to rise to his feet again, Ignis kicked him with such force that he was shoved backwards, towards the campfire ten feet behind him.

Everyone looked on in amazement. Ignis' eyes had taken on a crimson flare, and he literally seemed to catch fire in his right arm. He moved forward as Alvor began to rise to his knees, and landed another punch, violence etched in his features. He followed through with another strike. This one leveled Alvor to the ground. He stood over him, feet spread for leverage, still hunched over from the last strike. "How dare you touch her! I'll kill you!" He brandished his dagger with the intent to use it. The man had dared harm his wife, and it would be his last sin.

However, Aleya let out a strangled sob, calling his name. It caught his attention immediately. He stopped cold in his tracks and whirled to her. Hearing her give that slight sob, he abandoned Alvor at once; His only thought being that the choking sound might mean she was seriously hurt. He saw the shadow of her outline cradling her wrist, backing away. He heard the gulping, the near gagging of her distress. The flickering flames that had ignited from his body billowed away as he hurried to her in concern. "Leya," he did a cursory check over her body and then satisfied, slid his hands to cover her cheeks, caressing her face with his thumbs. "I'm here. It's alright, now."

Prompto came running around the corner, as well as Iris. They stared at the scene for a moment in bewilderment. "Iggy? You're back?" Iris asked, while Prompto inquired, "You okay, Allie?"

Ignis could feel her shaking violently. He pulled her to his chest, half in dismay at what had happened and half in relief that he had made it before the worst occurred. He held her trembling frame for a moment before noticing she held her left arm out awkwardly. "Are you hurt?" He gently touched her wrist. His right sleeve still billowed smoke in the breeze as he ran two concerned fingers down her radius.

She didn't answer, she simply let out a little gasp of pain at the soft touch. She buried her head in his jacket as if trying to hide, holding her injured arm far away on one side and clinging tightly to his lapel with the other. Her ribs heaved as if she were in the midst of crying hysterically, although no sound was heard. Ignis held her tightly, trying to calm her, magma in his blood.

Alvor got to his feet. "You're going to pay," He told Ignis, spitting a tooth. He held out his arm in an accusatory point, staggering on his feet. "You're going to pay for cheating me!"

Ignis scowled, releasing his hold on his shocked wife, and turned with clenched fists to position himself between them.

Idelle tried again. "Stop it! You're not in your right mind! You're making a mistake!"

"That's right, cheated me!" He spat, ignoring her. He slapped his chest. "She was my woman! Mine! I had claimed her before you showed up there in Lestallum. You—coming in here, winning her over with your shitty sob story! I worked for it! I wanted her! If she was going to spread 'em, it should have been for me!" He had a dagger in one hand and a sword in the other. He threw the sword at Ignis with his left non-dominant hand.

Ignis ducked, moving his wife out of the way. He then righted himself, glaring into the black void, feeling an undisputed urge to inflict violence. His eyes again seemed to glow embers in his fury. He had always put Aleya on an absolute pedestal. He regarded her as lofty and as pure as an angel. She, who refused to show skin in his presence even when he was blind; She who kept him at arm's length for months despite loving him so deeply; She who felt nervous and embarrassed to be touched by her husband on their wedding night. There was no one he held in higher respect. To say such things about her was a grave sin. And to touch her deserved death. "Shut your mouth!" He warned.

"You don't like it, Mister High and Mighty Retainer? Come over here and shut me up!"

"My pleasure!" Ignis materialized his lance, swinging it expertly under his arm, preparing to lunge.

Aleya intervened. She wasn't trying to spare Alvor; She was trying her best to spare her husband—to spare him from the weight of what would lead to inevitable bloodshed. She knew if they fought, Ignis would effortlessly kill. He had once confided in her that he had fought to end Ardyn when Noct was in danger, and that he wouldn't have hesitated to proudly plunge the lethal blow into Noct's enemy. He would do no less for her, although she knew he would later look back in regret, tainted by unbridled emotion leading to murder.

So with every bit of nerve she had to face the monster who had harmed her, ever the willing mediator, she attempted to calm the situation. She felt that if anyone could calm Alvor, it would be her. They had been friends once, and she felt she could reach him and defuse the volatile situation. She stepped forward before Ignis realized what she was doing, passing him. "Alvor, please. Why don't we just…"

Alvor set his eyes on her for a split second before he moved. "You whore!" He swung his fist wildly.

Ignis had some premonition of what would happen, and was already in motion, but he couldn't react quickly enough to spare her. It was humanly impossible. While he was able to reach out and grab his wrist to spare her any horrible damage, the hand holding the dagger still launched out towards Aleya and made contact with her face before meeting such resistance. His knuckles hit her hard, and the dagger glanced off, grazing her skin. She cried out as she spun from the force of the blow. She lost her footing. She tumbled backwards, tripping over a folding chair, and stumbled again. She landed against the nearby eating table, catching the curved rim with her midriff. Ignis had tracked her trajectory with swift speed. He dove and caught her before she could hit the ground.

Idelle and two others dove forward, dragging Alvor away before he could do any further mischief.

She bowed over as she stood, gasping for breath, wrenching the material of Ignis' jacket tautly; Everyone except Ignis could see that her knuckles and face were instantaneously pure white. The left side of her face gushed a line of crimson in front of her ear.

He frantically ran his hands over her, checking for damage. Curse his blindness! Was she hurt? He couldn't see to tell. He couldn't hear her giving even the slightest whisper of breath either, though she seemed to be trying to stand. "Leya?! Leya, are you alright?" His hands fell to her abdomen. "My Girl…!" His voice choked with concern. "…Please…are you hurt?"

She released her death-grip on his jacket. One hand fell to her stomach while her injured wrist pressed to her sliced preauricular skin in shock.

"Leya!" Ignis called again, taking her shoulders in his hands.

Prompto had ran to her, and he now helped hold her upright. "You okay, Allie?"

She finally took a breath while falling backwards slightly against Prompto. Ignis' face grew startled; His pupils dilated despite being sightless. He flinched to steady her, but Prompto had already caught her.

She hesitated to respond to their inquiries, weighing truth against consequences. All she could see was the blind fury and distress in Ignis' face; The desperate fear. She gripped his wrist. "I think I'm okay, Igs." Blood spilled from behind her wrist. Fortunately, Ignis still couldn't see it, and either his own distraction of the situation or the smell of the campfire drowned out the odor. He didn't notice.

Prompto tore his jacket off and pressed it to her bleeding face. He glared at Alvor angrily. "Dude, how could you do that?! You hurt Allie!"

Ignis only heard the last three words. He spun. He lunged for Alvor-not only for rage and vengeance, but with a desperation to protect her from any further harm. He managed to get the fingers of his right hand around his throat for a moment, despite his trio of companions trying to separate them. However, he was aware that Aleya, grasping and pulling at him with her uninjured arm, was afraid of what he might do. "Ignis!" She cried, nearly sobbing. Prompto struggled to hold on to her as she struggled to pull Ignis' arm.

Now Iris had also joined the fray, trying to push him away.

Oh, they knew him all too well. They knew Ignis to be the cool tactician until there was a desperate situation that went beyond logical thought. That was when Ignis was most dangerous, for all training and conditioning would fly away in a mindless surge of impetuosity. Ignis was not a violent man, but he was a man, and he would act to protect those he loved-and would do anything necessary to accomplish it.

He shook in his ardor, trying to control himself. His body glowed in an unnatural light akin to flame. Iris jumped away at the supernatural sight, but still shouted at him from the sidelines. He finally consented to their pleas for control. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath. Then pulling, leaning towards Alvor, "You should be glad you're drunk. If you were sober, I assure you, you'd be dead by now!"

Prompto continued to support Aleya, patting her shoulder, trying to pry her fingers from Ignis' jacket sleeve. Iris stood stalk still, her hand clamped over her mouth, watching the display in horrified amazement.

Everyone stared at him with mouths agape; They had never seen a mortal engulfed and yet uninjured.

Alvor finally seemed to realize something of what he had done. He didn't reply, staring past Ignis to Aleya stupidly.

Ignis shook himself free from his wife for a moment, grabbing fistfuls of the man's collar. Alvor's friends, instead of trying to separate them, fled. They might as well have been trying to contend with Ifrit, and they were smart enough to know when they were outclassed.

Prompto looked over Aleya's hand, which had been scalded. She paid him no heed.

Ignis could hear her gulping down sobs behind him. "If you ever come near her again, I will tear you apart!" He shoved him as hard as he possibly could. Satisfied when he hit the ground, the flame rolled away from his body. He turned and went back to Aleya, wrapping his arms around her, ready to walk her back to their room. And as furious as he had been, he suddenly switched, immersed in compassion. "Are you alright?" He gently asked her, pulling her under his arm.

They turned to leave, and Ignis cast one last command over his shoulder. "Put those campfires out!"

Prompto watched them go. He turned to the hunters. "It's a shame. Everyone thinks you guys are out here keeping them safe. They don't know you're just a bunch of slobbering, drunk jerks out harassing and hurting innocent girls."

Everyone went very somber and silent; Again, all except Alvor. He wasn't finished at all. "Innocent? Who's innocent?! You get back here!" He called, scrambling to his feet. And then to Ignis, "You had no right to taint her! You turned her into a whore! A whore, you hear me? You filled her with that filthy bastard kid!"

"Shut up!" Prompto roared, pushing him back and pulling his revolver. When Alvor came at him, Prompto aimed it at his forehead, shaking with rage. "Shut up right now! I'll do it! I've killed much more important people. Don't test me, dude!" And the way he felt, he was prepared to do as he said. He narrowed his eyes in obvious fury. In this dark world, there were few individuals left who were as close to him as Ignis. "Shut. It."

Ignis let him handle the situation for the moment. He had far more important concerns. His attention was to Aleya, who still walked slightly doubled over, holding her injured wrist to her head, against Prompto's bloodied jacket. He noticed she was obviously guarding her stomach. "Don't pay attention to him," he soothed her. "He's inconsequential."

Once he had her back inside the bedroom, he set her gently on the corner of the mattress, checking her over. "Leya-my love-I'm…I'm sorry. Are you hurt?" His hand fell to the wadded jacket. He hadn't noticed the reason for the jacket up to this point. Now, he caught the whiff of blood and he knew something was amiss. He moved it gently to brush his fingers over what she had been covering. She flinched away, but not before he felt the sticky, oozing liquid spilling in a slow river over his fingertips. His face hardened. "You're bleeding." He pressed the jacket back to her face quickly. He was already standing to take action, whirling to the dresser. "And your arm?" She didn't answer him, and so when he turned back with one of his clean shirts, he touched her wrist again.

She yelped, pulling away. He felt a hot tear fall to his hand.

"Damn him." He fumbled in his jacket pocket for a potion. "Damn him!"

"Ignis?"

He found the flask and set it next to her on the bed, then swapped his clean shirt for Prompto's sweat-covered jacket. She gingerly held it in place with a wrist that didn't seem to move normally. "And the baby?" He set both hands to her abdomen, one hand falling over hers. She had grown larger since he had left. There was a definitive swell there. Anyone could have been able to tell she was well-along in pregnancy, now.

"I-I don't know. I don't know. I'm not sure yet." She let out a hysterical sob. "I can't tell!"

He fought the cold chill of adrenaline. "Lie down," he urged her, helping her to lie back. He broke the potion over her. "Soak it in, Aleya. It will be alright."

"I'm okay, Ignis. Don't worry about me." But despite her assurances, she suddenly let out a quick sob. "I'm—I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." He felt a cold fury, creeping up, eating at his insides. How badly he wanted to kill that horrid man! If, by chance, he had done any permanent harm to either she or his child, he would hunt him down mercilessly. There would be no escaping his rage. "It isn't your fault."

"I told them they couldn't stay, Ignis. I did. They didn't listen to me."

"I know. Don't trouble yourself over it." He took the shirt away, satisfied that the potion was already sealing the wound. He ran his fingertips over it to be sure.

"If I wasn't pregnant, I would have fought him off. I think I could have. But, I was afraid." She swallowed hard. "I couldn't let anything happen to your baby, Igs."

He shook his head in frustration. Even in this situation, she could only think about how she might possibly have failed him.

"Oh, gods…" She gripped his arm tightly. "You don't think something could happen, do you?"

He felt a pang in his throat, swelling and miserable. He lay down beside her and wriggled his shoulder under her. "It's going to be alright, Leya. Take some deep breaths."

She tried to obey, but her breath came out in shaky gasps.

"There now." He ran his hand over her scalp soothingly. "Tell me. After the potion, are you still feeling pain?"

She bit her lip. There was a thick silence, as if she didn't want to answer him. "A—A little."

He bit down hard on his back molars, and clenched his fist until his fingernails drew blood. He feigned calm cheer. "We'll just lay here quietly for a bit, shall we? We'll let the potion work a while, and we'll see how you're feeling in about an hour."

There was a slight pause. "You shouldn't have come home today."

He took that like a punch in the face. What did she mean? Would she rather him have stayed away and not known while she and Iris were assaulted? She'd rather him come home later and find out that he missed out on the opportunity to save them from something so horrid? "You'd rather let him do what he wanted?" He clipped at her.

She buried her face in her hands. "That's not what I meant!" And she started crying again.

He felt miserable. He shouldn't have snapped at her. Tensions were high, but he certainly hadn't meant to take out his frustration on the person he cherished most in Eos. "Never mind. I'm sorry. Try to relax, Leya. Shh." Why did everything in their lives have to be so incredibly difficult? Nothing for them ever came easily. Nothing was normal. And though she was the one in pain, scared out of her wits about possibly losing his child, she was apologizing to him for the whole experience! It was frustrating to think that even at this moment, she felt she must be accountable to him—as if she were failing at her job performance and causing him shame. Perhaps it was just her being mindful of his feelings, but he often felt she was still in 'assistant' mode; That if she did her job poorly, she would fear his disappointment. For Aleya, who always sought to please him, to earn his respect and praise, it was difficult for her to feel she was failing at something so vitally important to him. He struggled to find something he could praise her for, and a thought occurred to him. He smiled. "Was that blood streaming down his face your doing?"

She stopped crying, and there was a pause. And then she made a motion with her arm, a gesture of a perfect palm strike. She let out a timid laugh.

He broke into a full grin. "That's my girl."

She took his hand. "I shouldn't have gone out there. If I would have stayed inside, none of this would have happened."

"Stop blaming yourself," he told her. His mind flipped back to the scene upon his entrance: finding her crying for mercy while that vile monster….! He felt as if he were nauseated, gagging on his own breath. The thought of that man's horrid hands and foul mouth on the very essence of his heart, causing her so much grief and pain! It was intolerable. "No one blames you."

She was quiet for a few moments. "I-I just don't understand," she told him. "I don't like him, but I never thought he would hurt me. I thought he was a good person. I must be stupid!"

He shook his head, swallowing down the rage. "You're not stupid, Aleya. You're simply pure-hearted. There's no shame in that."

"Was it just because he was drunk?"

"I wouldn't allow him so much leniency as to believe it was only the alcohol. However, I firmly believe alcohol reveals what a person is deep within. For example, when my father drank, he would go on hours-long research binges. When Gladio drinks, he becomes more flirtatious. When you got drunk on accident, you were delightfully driven and sweet. And when this man drank—" his face turned dark and sour. "He inflicted abuse."

"He's always drank a little, but he never acted like that before."

"He's never done such a thing before because he wanted to win your trust and approval. There are many in the world who do the same; They fall into these antics when they feel the frustration of failed effort. He was jealous. It drove him to fury, and it stung his pride." He took her injured arm gently in his own. Her wrists were so small. Ignis had marveled about her small bones so many times in the past. Now it just caused him grief. He was surprised that brute hadn't snapped her arm in two. "But that matters little. He won't be bothering you anymore."

"I'm so sorry! I had a nice evening planned for when you came back. I had a nice meal. I bought you some salts for the bath. I was going to read you the translation I finished from Crestholm…" She was beginning to spiral into tears again.

"It's alright." He set his lips against her temple. "Close your eyes. Rest. I'm right here; nothing further will happen. Rest, and all will be better when you wake."

"I can't possibly sleep right now! What are you thinking?"

He tried to get her comfortable, tried to soothe her, but it was a losing battle. She was frustrated, and sprung from bewilderment to anger to tears in a span of mere moments. Ignis was compassionate, but he was beginning to lose a bit of patience. And then, as if an answer to his prayer, Umbra came racing into the room and bounded onto the bed. He wiggled under her arm and settled next to her, laying his snout under her chin.

She went docile immediately, cuddling him and running her fingers over his fur. "Umbra. Sweet boy."

Ignis had mixed feelings about Umbra being able to immediately calm her when her own husband couldn't, but he kept it to himself. For now, he was just grateful for the messenger's assistance. Something about it reminded him of something Noct himself would do. If Noct would be here, he'd be at the foot of the bed, refusing to leave her—or racing out with sword drawn to behead Alvor. He didn't know which. Proof that he and His Majesty were similar in many ways, he supposed.

"Well done," he told Umbra, patting his side.

She drifted off some time later—probably due to the exhaustion of the whole ordeal. When she finally did, Ignis carefully eased himself away from her, and headed towards the caravan. Once he was nearly there, he attuned his ears to the various voices in the camp. Alvor was not among them.

The same woman stood, approaching him. "How's your girl?"

He scowled. "She's been better."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is your-Is the kid okay?"

His expression didn't change. "Undeterminable."

"Oh." She stood quietly for a moment. "Listen, I'm sorry about what happened. We all are. He was drinking. There's no reasoning with him when he's like that. We just try to stay out of his way. But I swear, he didn't mean to…"

Ignis cut her off, losing patience. "I want to speak to him. Now!"

She stiffened. "I don't think that's a good idea."

He tilted his head slightly. "It's not open for negotiation."

"I told you. There's nothing you can say or do that'll make sense to him when he's like this. If you have something to say, you should save it for tomorrow morning. He's manageable when he's hung over."

"Impossible, as you'll all be gone by then."

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

He didn't hesitate. He clenched a fist. "I want you off this property, immediately. Your invitation is rescinded. If you're still here by morning, there will be consequences. And you are to relay this message: If he should come within 10 yards of my wife in the future, he will be a dead man. If he tries to contact her in any way—vocal, written, or any else—he is also a dead man. If they find themselves in the same general vicinity, he will vacate the area immediately. He will break off any and all contact with her."

"Is that really necessary? They're kinsmen! He was just drunk!"

"He assaulted my wife!" Ignis shouted, causing her to jump a bit. "Why didn't you stop him? Were the rest of you lot just going to stand around and watch while he finished the job?"

"He wouldn't have gone that far!" She snapped at him.

"Did he not declare his intentions? Was he not in the midst of doing so?! He forced himself on her, tried to wrench her arm off, and struck her, all while she was pregnant with my child! I suppose you feel he is too virtuous a man to proceed further?"

"He wasn't thinking."

"Stop making excuses!" Ignis bellowed. He was beginning to lose the last shreds of his temper. "As her husband, it is my right to ensure her protection, and I will do so. I demand his departure immediately!"

At that moment, the caravan door flew open on its hinges, slamming back with a bang. Alvor stumbled down the steps, bloodied and bruised, clutching a bottle. "Look who's back! You want to settle this?"

Ignis ground his teeth together, trembling with fury at the very sound of his voice. "I'd love to. However, out of respect for my wife, and consideration for all the strain she's already been through, I'm loath to spill your blood where she can see it."

He spat. "You took her away from me."

"See it how you will," Ignis replied. "But she is mine. If you are seen or heard anywhere within her proximity in the future, you will forfeit your life. I will sever your head from your shoulders."

"What's the matter, Scientia? Still afraid of competition?"

"You're no competition," Ignis spat back. "You are, however, a danger to the safety and well-being of my family. You are a threat; A threat I will not hesitate to put down. You have been warned. I will protect her!"

"Well, what if I refuse?"

Ignis calmly produced his daggers. "I'll kill you now. I should have your blood cleaned up by morning."

Idelle stepped in immediately. She had seen what Ignis was capable of, and she didn't want to tangle with the man that looked like the spawn of Ifrit. "Damnit, Alvor, shut up! He's right! You hurt her! She couldn't even stand up straight. Don't you know if she tore something in there, or if you put her in labor with no doctor, it could kill her? She'd bleed out long before we could get help. Not to mention you touched her! You put your mangy mouth all over her. If you were in his shoes, what would you do?"

Ignis had felt his heart drop in dread at her description of potential injury. His mouth went dry. He hadn't thought of such a thing. He kept his feet rooted, forcing himself to fight the temptation to go check her for bleeding.

Alvor went still and quiet for the first time that evening. He looked at Ignis. "I hurt her?" He sounded almost sober for a moment.

"Yes. You did." Ignis stood dark and menacing. "Never again. Clear out. If I hear your voice in the morning, I promise it will be the last mistake you'll have made." As he turned to leave, the bottle Alvor had been holding flew beyond him, shattering when impacting the dirt.

Ignis turned quickly between the crash of the bottle and the sound of uncoordinated racing footsteps, and caught Alvor's arm in a downward strike with a dagger. He didn't even have time to react, however; For from out of nowhere, a dagger whizzed directly under Ignis' armpit, and embedded itself in Alvor's clavicle.

He let out a sharp roar of pain and fell away, clutching the injury. Ignis spun in surprise to determine where it had come from, and there was no mistaking the neon outline of his wife. Umbra growled from somewhere in her proximity, letting out a warning snarl and bark.

Alvor swore at him. "Damn you both! You don't own this place! You can't tell me what to do!"

"Well, I sure can," Wiz's voice said. He had been standing a bit off, observing the interaction. He approached, putting a hand on Ignis' shoulder. "I'm afraid my establishment is closed to the likes 'o you."

"What was that, old man?!"

Wiz's hand, resting on Ignis' shoulder, gave him a solid pat and squeeze for good measure. "I'm right fond of Aleya. She's just like a daughter to me. Which makes this man here my son-in-law. You hurt my girl; You've disrespected 'em both. This place is now closed for business."

Ignis felt he had a new-found respect and admiration for Wiz. Despite the seriousness of the situation, it was a touching moment. He supposed they had indeed become a surrogate family, of sorts. Over the past few months, they had interacted as a normal family would. Wiz had been on friendly terms with Ignis long before he met Aleya, and he became intensely attached to her in short order. They had made the ranch their home. Aleya would do chores around the ranch when they were there. Even now, burdened with child, she would do as much as she could. Ignis often helped out when he was around, as well. In return, Wiz kept care of her while Ignis was out, and even helped Ignis scout ahead before expeditions. Ignis had never thought about it before now, but those nights around the dining table, the little chores, the occasional dispersing of wisdom and advice….Yes, they were becoming a family.

Everyone started talking at once. It was very apparent no one was happy with the decision to evict. Safe haven with amenities was indeed a rare commodity. Some turned on Alvor, others blamed Ignis. It was hard for even Ignis to sort through the cacophony to discern individual noises and voices. But there was a warm palm in his left hand, and Umbra was licking at his right. It calmed him immediately.

Wiz finally got the mastery over the crowd. "That's enough! Now y'all sober up and get out! That's my final say!" And with that, he turned and left them all alone.

Idelle met Aleya's eyes for several minutes before she took charge of the injured leader of their band, pulling him into the caravan. For once during the evening, Alvor was finally silent.

Ignis waited until the door of the caravan closed, and he turned to Aleya. "Wherever did you learn to throw daggers?"

"In Crownsguard training."

"They taught you to throw daggers? I don't remember that particular item on the trainee's itinerary."

"No. I didn't mean my Crownsguard training. I meant yours."

"Pardon?"

"I was watching you like a hawk. I always did."

Ignis smiled happily. She learned to throw daggers by watching him? What a woman she was! "I love you."

"You'd better."

Amazing. After all she had suffered, she wasn't permanently shaken. He had left her to sleep off her trauma, and she only a few minutes later placed herself back in the thick of battle. If only Cor could have been there, now. He would have to eat every word he ever spoke about her being an imposition. He would have paid high gil for such a thing to happen.

Prompto was pacing outside the door when Ignis and Dr. Eiler exited. The doctor closed the door behind them. He seemed to be tired. He ran his palm over his eye socket for a moment while talking. "Can't you two stay out of trouble?"

"Is there something wrong?" Ignis asked.

"No, and you'd better thank the astrals for your good fortune. Why don't you take the girl to Lestallum? I told you—it's the safest place for her."

He frowned. Of course that would be best, and under normal circumstances, they would have long ago resettled there. But circumstances were not normal. If he were truly to keep her calm and happy, Lestallum could not be on the agenda. "Sadly, that's not necessarily true." Feeling Eiler a bit put out by his comment, he amended it. "I'll give it some thought."

"I think it's best if you two avoided—shall we say 'strenuous intimate activity'?—for a few weeks. Just to be on the safe side. I'm recommending strict rest for her during that time."

"I thought you said there was nothing wrong."

"There isn't. But better safe than sorry."

"Yes, of course. Thank you, doctor." Ignis extended his hand.

Dr. Eiler shook it, eyeing Ignis with new and profound respect. Prompto had been the one to fetch him, and had no doubt filled him in on how Ignis had flown into a violent fury to protect his wife. "I know the signs of a good father when I see one. You're going to be one of them."

He gave a polite smile, too tired to be pleased. "Thank you."

The doctor swung his leg over the chocobo saddle and settled in, grabbing the reins. "And get some sleep. You look like hell."

He felt a lot like hell, too.

Once the doctor left, Prompto approached, wringing his hands a bit. "I'm…I'm sorry, Ignis. I didn't know Alvor was gonna…If I had known, I wouldn't have left her all alone. You know I wouldn't have!"

Ignis tore off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Fatigue seemed to be seeping out of his pores. "It's no one's fault but his," Ignis replied. "You couldn't have known. I didn't even know. I'm—eternally grateful you were here."

"Just delivering a message to Iris; Thought I'd catch up a bit. I guess it kinda worked out. Didn't even know you guys were having a baby until yesterday. I was surprised to see her looking…well, you know… like that. It's getting a little too obvious to miss, I guess."

"You and I hardly talk anymore," Ignis nodded to himself. "We should change that."

Prompto was touched. He had always felt a little out of place in their entourage, and Ignis in particular had been intimidating to him; Even more so than Gladio. He had stunning intellect and a maturity that Prompto envied, and courage and battle prowess that he desired. Prompto often felt himself an annoyance—which had often been confirmed by Ignis' attitude towards him. So when he openly expressed to Prompto a desire to catch up with him as a friend, it made him very, very happy. "I'd—I'd like that."

"You're welcome back anytime. I imagine I'll be about more often, at least for the next few weeks." Ignis found the closest chair and finally collapsed into it. "I'm afraid my research will be put on hold."

"Noct wouldn't mind."

"Noct wouldn't, but I doubt the rest of Eos would agree." Ignis put his glasses on his knee and rubbed both hands over his face, massaging the built-up tension. "We can't afford to waste time."

Prompto stuck his hands in his back pockets. "Well, I mean, this isn't exactly a waste of time."

"That was hardly what I meant." He sighed and tilted his head back. "In any case, I want to thank you for your assistance today."

"Of course! You're my bro, bro!" Prompto shook his fist at the sky. "They mess with you, they mess with me!"

He gave a short side-ways smile. Prompto could indeed be endearing. "Thank you."

"But hey, Igster…Your research doesn't have to be put on hold. I can get you what you need. I mean, you'll be looking after Allie for a while. You know how she is; She'll get bored just sitting around for weeks. Especially when you guys can't even…" Prompto's voice trailed off awkwardly.

"Prompto," Ignis warned, the 'glare' obvious in his voice.

"…Cook together. I was going to say cook together. Anyway, tell me what you need, and I'll get it for you. I can take pictures or something. Then, maybe you and Allie can translate it together. That wouldn't be a waste of time, would it? And you wouldn't have to leave her."

It was a thoughtful and intelligent offer. Ignis hesitated. "Are you certain? Running errands for me would mean limiting those for Miss Aurum."

"Ah, Cindy would understand. Actually, she'd probably take her wrench to my neck if I didn't." Prompto scratched the back of his head self-consciously. "Anything you need, Igster, you just let me know."

The relief of a solution was immense. He could care for his wife without feeling he was abandoning his King. "Thank you, Prompto. Truly."

"Of course, no prob!"

At that time, Wiz wandered up, followed closely by Iris. "How's my girl doin'?"

"She's to strictly rest for a few weeks," Ignis answered, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. After weeks of physical labor, traveling for two days straight, the adrenaline rush of trying to kill a man with his bare hands, the distress and agonizing fear over the woman who held his heart, and the doctor's visit, he felt he could barely hold himself up anymore. He was exhausted. "Otherwise, it appears we may get through this incident unscathed."

"I've sent them trouble-makers packing. They won't be botherin' the two of you anymore."

"You have my thanks." Secretly, Ignis wished Alvor had rebelled. Then he would have had a good excuse to tear his head off his shoulders.

As if reading his mind, Iris gave a full body shudder. "Ugh! Who would have thought that Alvor guy was such a jerk?! Everyone thought he really liked her back in Lestallum. He always waited on her hand and foot."

"I'm afraid it wasn't her heart he was after," Ignis answered. "Let it be a lesson to you."

"Yeah." Prompto nodded at her gravely.

"I confess, I always saw him as a threat, but not to this extent. I'm afraid none of us saw this coming."

"Anyway." Iris fumbled with her fingers apologetically. "I really wish I could stay and help you two out, but…"

Ignis sat up, quickly. "No, your help has been invaluable. I appreciate your assistance on my expeditions away. You've done His Majesty a great service. However, I'm going to be staying with her for the near future. I shouldn't have to call on you for some time."

She smiled. "Hey, no big deal. Anytime! Just say the word!" She swooped in and gave him a hug. "It's the least I could do for you, after all you've done for Noct and Gladdy." She turned to Prompto, who greeted her with wide-armed exuberance. She hugged him as well. "You too, Prompto."

"Safe travels! Godspeed."

Prompto thumped Ignis on the arm. "I'll take her to Lestallum. And then I'll be right back. Have a shopping list ready for me."

"But of course."

And with that, everyone parted, satisfied that the newest crisis had been averted.

[Direct Journal Enteries]:

15th of June, M.E. 760

Aleya's already bored, and she's been asking if she can aid me in whatever I found at the Tomb. Seeing as how I can't actually read it myself, I yielded today. We've only translated the first page.

It appears to be some sort of written warning about the Starscourge, and it speaks of the plague as having consumed and corrupted his own brother. We were both surprised to learn the Founder King had a brother, and we assume that because he was 'corrupted', as stated, any mention of him was ordered annulled throughout the pages of history.

Curious that the King should have it inscribed upon his death bed if that were truly the case.

I'm sure once we translate the next two pages, we'll have more answers.

16th of June, M.E. 760

Sibling rivalry gone awry. That's all I can state to describe it. Two men, both awaiting the decision from the gods as to who would be king. Somnus writes profusely about his qualifications as King, and declares his actions 'were to protect Eos and to serve the gods'. Those actions led to the ostracization of his brother, and eventually to execution.

That's all we've been able to translate today. Leya says the next page is very short, and she wanted to stay up to finish it. It wasn't allowed. What's waited over 2000 years can wait until tomorrow morning. Her health comes first.

17th of June, M.E. 760

Ardyn Lucis Caelum. That was the name, in bold script. I had Aleya re-read it four times just to be certain. My first thought was suspicion. I supposed Ardyn had somehow planted it, as he is determined to rid Lucis of it's rightful King, and has posed himself as a usurper. (I have long heard rumors that Ardyn occupies Insomnia.) But, no. It all makes perfect sense.

It is a last-moment revelation of a disturbed King, a man ridden with the tender affliction of guilt in his old age.

It would make sense why Ardyn would hate Noctis so. Along with the scrolls, we found an image of the Founder King. Leya tells me he looks exactly like our beloved Noctis.

Revenge. Ardyn seeks revenge upon the line of Lucis, for the death of his beloved, for stealing the throne, and for the attempt at execution. I'm not sure why he is still alive—the script only goes so far as to say he was executed, nothing further about an afterlife or resurrection of any kind.

The Founder King states that what he did was necessary, and his right by providence of the Crystal. A death bed confession of what he had done, clinging to the last shred of justification.

It's a tragedy.

That doesn't mean I'll allow Ardyn any quarter. For all he's done to Noct, to Insomnia, to my friends, to my dearest Aleya, and to me. He does deserve pity, but no mercy.

I shall be glad when Noctis returns and we can rid ourselves of this menace once and for all.

Though that too, I fear, will only lead to more grief.

23rd of June, M.E. 760

Ignis, writhing in sweat, jolted awake at his wife's touch. "Noct!" He cried, sitting straight up in bed.

Aleya was upright nearly as fast, grabbing his arm. "Ignis! Are you alright?"

"I…" He panted, clutching his chest. His eyes roved about, noting the perfect void of all light and color, save for Aleya's slight aura. Yes, he had definitely been dreaming. Dreams were the only time he could see things in vivid detail.

"You were having a nightmare."

"I…Yes, I suppose I was." He pulled the sheets back and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the assuring support of the mattress, the cool air of the room, hearing the insect life outside. He was back in the real world, equally as dangerous, but familiar. The nightmares were back. Ignis had thought himself to be rid of them. Perhaps all this studying up on the tragedy of Ardyn and Somnus has forced unpleasant memories to resurface. "I'm sorry to have disturbed your sleep."

"Don't worry about that!" She exclaimed. "Are you okay? Was it that bad?"

He paused, debating the question. He could tell her, of course. Aleya knew how to keep a secret, and she would well know the stakes without him having to caution her. He could do with a bit of support and encouragement. He could use a partner to help him take the load and work with him to alter events to their advantage. However, he thought back on that fateful day with Alvor, and Eiler's instructions to keep her calm and happy. He couldn't burden her with it. Not now, when she was so fragile, and perhaps maybe never. He couldn't put this type of strain on anyone else, especially not the person he loved most in the world. "It was a dream of the future; When Noct returns. It—didn't go the way we planned."

There, that's all she need know. She didn't need to know about Ignis' visions, the details of Noct being impaled upon the Throne of Kings. She loved Noctis, too. It would break her heart.

"I'm sorry." She ran her hand along his bare shoulders, trying to settle him. "It's alright now; You're safe. Noct is still safely within the crystal. It's going to be alright."

Ignis took a staggering breath. "I…hope you're right, Leya."

"Ignis." She crawled over to him and wrapped both arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. "You've been having nightmares a lot lately. Tonight was the worst yet. Is something bothering you?"

"I suppose I'm paranoid." His hands fell to her tiny wrists that crisscrossed at his chest. "You know me. Plotting and planning, figuring scenarios and alternatives, even in my sleep."

"Do you want me to get you something? Maybe something warm to drink? It might calm your mind a little."

He closed his eyelids and leaned back on her shoulder. Even in her ignorance of the penalty of Noct's calling, she was remarkably comforting. "No. You should be resting. I'm sorry for waking you."

She ran a hand through his dampened hair, scraping his bangs away from his glistening forehead. "Come on, Lover. Let me help you. What do you need?"

His hands reached back, and fell to the first he could find of her—her leg. He grasped it and shook his head. "No, Aleya, you're doing enough."

"Come back to bed." She tugged at his arm and moved away.

He didn't feel like sleeping. He was certain he was going to be wide awake for the rest of the night. However, he didn't want to upset her or cause her to worry. He complied, lying flat on his back, noting how Aleya lovingly tried to help cover him and adjust his pillow. Then, she edged over to lay her head against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his torso.

"I'll keep you safe," she told him.

He found the concept amusing. She would keep him safe? Six months pregnant on bedrest? Still, it was endearing—an expression of support, an attempt at security.

"I'm bathed in sweat."

"I don't mind." She gave a slight squeeze to his ribs. "I'll never be able to imagine all you've been through, to give you such dreams. But it's just a dream, Igs. It will be okay. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. I'll keep you company until you fall asleep." She patted his chest.

Charming sentiment, but she fell asleep long before he even started to relax. Still, he loved her for it. He wasn't sure how he would have gotten this far without her support.

He wasn't willing to give up hope, not yet. He still felt perhaps he could turn the tide; If he just learned enough, if he just became strong enough. Still, in the deepest recesses of his heart, he wondered if all attempts were futile. Could Noct truly be saved?

He lay wide awake, thinking over it.

Yes, he could. He would make sure of it. He had lost far too much already. He was not going to lose Noctis as well.