"From here, Uncle Ignis' journaling gets more sparse. Truthfully, I have to piece together the rest—some from his journals, and some from interviews with he and all of his many companions. So from now on, the approximate dates will be listed, but I'll attempt to write it in a third-person narrative. When one of his journal entries is needed to add relevance to the story, it will be notated within." –E.A, Author

14th of December, ME 758

Ignis hadn't been able to sleep through the night. Panic alarms often went off in the city; And for a blind man, whose ear was trained for the softest of sound, the panic alarms certainly lived up to their name—he panicked. Of course he had heard them go off before, but in his heightened state of anxiety, perhaps it seemed a touch more dire. He woke, and immediately thought of Aleya. She'd be taking on the difficult, dangerous tasks in a state of emergency, no doubt.

He decided to check it out himself, and soon was found standing outside the power plant gates, inquiring of Holly. She informed him there was a power outage and a subsequent demon raid at Maldacio HQ. His brain had begun to whirl at that particular problem, when he was embittered to learn Aleya and Marla had been sent out to repair the issue. Ignis chomped down on his back molars, fighting the tendency to yell. He couldn't help but be irritated. Aleya had been working doubles and was already exhausted; Possibly exhausted enough to make a fatal mistake. Furthermore, of all the women in the complex, did they constantly have to send her out? Of course, for Holly dared not ever go out herself and set a proper example!

He grew more annoyed, and demanded transport immediately to Maldacio. And Holly, noting the flare in his eye, very wisely conceded.

The drive was agonizing, and was three times longer than he remembered. But eventually, he arrived, at the very conclusion of the battle. The creatures of the dark had attacked the wrong headquarters. The hunters and Glaive had made respectful work of felling them, though they had suffered some casualties.

As he jumped off the truck, daggers drawn for battle, he heard cheers erupt. Victory was complete. The power was back on. "Let there be light!" Shouted a young female warrior, just behind him. "What a beautiful sight!"

Ignis still couldn't see light, but he was sensitive to heat, especially in his injured eye. He could indeed feel the warmth of the overhead lights pouring onto his skin. "Were there any injuries?" He demanded of her, turning to her quickly. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Not sure; I think so. We usually have at least some injuries. Sometimes bad ones. But a win is a win, isn't it? Can't complain about the results!"

Worried, he reached out and grabbed her arm. "Aleya! I'm looking for a young woman named Aleya Claren. She's a plant worker, here for repairs. Have you seen her?!"

She shook him off. "Would you chill? I have no idea who you're talking about."

He spun on his heel and began asking passerby, but none had seen her or knew her. When he had enough of the inquiries, he resorted to shouting her name.

Finally, someone approached from behind. "Who's askin' about Aleya?"

He whirled on the ball of his foot to face the speaker. "Do you know her?"

" 'Course I do. The question is, how do you know her?" The voice was angry, condescending.

Ignis didn't recognize the man's voice, but he was fairly suspicious of his tone. "You must be Alvor."

" 'Must be'? I guess she's been talking about me, then. That's a good sign."

Ignis gave him a smile that turned into somewhat of a simpering smirk. He could already tell that he didn't like him; Not at all. "Actually, she's spoken nary a word."

"And you? I presume you're the famous 'Right Hand Man' I've heard so much about. What are you looking for Al for? You woke up out of the blue and decided to remember her today?"

Ignis scowled. "I beg your pardon," he replied with an icy tone to his voice.

"We thought you were pretty settled in with the Commodore."

Ignis stiffened a bit. Was that the problem? Did she think he had been passing the time with some sort of fling with Aranea? Was she jealous of him? He couldn't deny a bit of a hopeful flutter at that, before he realized that she was most likely got that notion from this very Alvor, was bitterly angry after such a misunderstanding, and was probably leaning on her fellow Galahdian for support.

"What, you need her for something? You need to pick up a fresh supply of potions Al had to kill herself to get for you? Maybe a homecooked meal after she's worked a double?"

Ah, and so this was his competition. Full of spite and sarcasm. He had supposed this man was a bad influence upon Aleya, and it seemed he might be correct, after all. However, this man stooped to insults and bravado. Ignis had never claimed to be wordly, but he certainly knew a dangerous man when he was presented with one. All that swaggering insecurity could easily change to violence. Such a man wasn't worthy of someone like Aleya Claren, and he certainly should be nowhere near her. Ignis balled a fist. "Tell me where she is."

"Maybe you need your wounds mended? A nice, cozy bed away from camp? Maybe order your dear secretary to keep you warm at night?"

Ignis felt the burn of fury in his nose. Who was this man who felt compelled to use insults against the woman he was claiming to protect? How did he know that she had cooked his meals, or mended his wounds? Had she told him? Had they truly become so close? It was no matter. He wouldn't let her go so easily, and he certainly wouldn't abide him insulting her character. He turned slightly, ready to fight if needed. His voice dropped in a lower, menacing tone. "Tell me where she is. I won't ask again."

"Face it. Since you got back, she's never been anything more to you than a little service dog."

Ignis, losing all patience, hot with jealousy, still no closer to figuring out where she was and if she was safe, strode forward and grabbed the man's shirt at the collar. It no doubt surprised his foe, as he lost his footing. By Alvor's estimation, no blind man should have been able to do that. He regained his stability quickly, though, and grabbed back, twisting the lapels of Ignis' jacket. They shoved back and forth for a moment, and then Ignis heard her voice.

"Ignis! What are you doing!?"

He let go of the man immediately, just as much a surprise to Alvor as the prior action. Ignis' rival again lost his footing slightly, pitching forward.

For his part, Ignis instantly felt relief. He could hear her footsteps nearing him, and they were in perfect rhythm. He could see the blur of her light approaching him. She seemed none the worse for wear. "Aleya!" He cried, extending his arms to her. He expected a quick and warm embrace, as she would be so happy to finally see him again, after all these many months. Instead, he was startled as she walked past him.

He heard a slight 'oof' as her hands made contact with Alvor's jacket when she pushed him. "And what are you doing, huh? This man is the Right Hand of the King!"

"A dead King," he retorted.

Ignis heard her gasp, and felt slightly shocked himself. This man truly had no respect!

"Don't say that!"

"I owe that betrayer no devotion, and neither do you."

"You don't mean that! Stop it!"

"Yes, I do," he said, with a slight snarl. "The all-powerful King Regis, dead and faded, to leave his people to suffer in the night! Why would any of us owe him or his kin anything?"

The words angered Ignis, but he had no chance to reply. He approached to defend the honor of his King, but Aleya extended a hand, pressing it to his chest to keep him at bay.

She tried to reason with him. "Our King did his best to carve out a future. He passed the role of savior on to our new King. It's true King Regis—His Name Be Honored—is no longer with us. But King Noctis will…"

"Al, stop that nonsense! 'His name be honored'," he chided her. "You're supposed to be smart, aren't you? Come on, Al. Use your brain! What is a child King going to do?"

"He's no child!" Ignis snarled, grinding his teeth together. Again, Aleya held him at bay.

"Fine. He's a man. A young man; A missing man. And if he's such a great King, why are we living like this? All hail the useless…."

"Shut your mouth!" Aleya yelled. Both men paused, as they rarely had ever heard her use such a tone or language. "I won't have you disrespecting my King! I don't care how bitter you are; You should know better! I'm ashamed of you, Alvor." Something in her voice had caught, teetering somewhere between anger and grief. Ignis, of course, knew her best, and knew her anger flared when she usually felt the sting of betrayal. It was usually when she was hurt and to the point of breaking down.

It was more than he could cope with. He couldn't stand the thought of her being under such strain that she emotionally fell apart. He instinctively wanted to comfort her. He reached his hand up, taking the hand that had been pressed to his chest, cradling it gently within his own. He wouldn't interrupt her, but he wished to convey his support.

Alvor attempted to apologize. "Al, I didn't—"

"And you shouldn't disrespect Ignis, either. Next to the King, he's the man that should be most honored. This world won't survive without the two of them. Don't you dare…" She took a deep breath to collect herself. "Don't you dare disrespect them; Any of them! Give them the honor they deserve. Show them gratitude. They had the courage to take on the Empire. And, if you live long enough to see the dawn again, they will have been the ones to deliver it to you."

Ignis felt his heart swell. Such faith in him! Perhaps he had been wrong about her feelings. Perhaps she had been thinking of him as much as he had been thinking about her. His minded wandered a bit, drifting to their last meeting. What he wouldn't give to take her in his arms again, to beg her forgiveness for being away so long, to thank the stars she survived the raid, and show her again how much he truly desired to be with her!

Alvor's boots stepped closer to her, far too close for Ignis' comfort. And what was worse, she didn't step away from him. "I'm so sorry, Allie-sweet." He told her, very gently, very consolingly. The man practically dripped sugar. Ignis felt his upper lip curl at the repulsive nick-name. "I didn't mean to upset you, you know that. I'd never want to make you angry. I care about you. You know I'd never leave you. I'd even die for you, Aleya."

Ignis' nostrils flared. 'I'd never leave you'? What a low blow! And he was so unbearably close to her—was he touching her? Gods, he must be touching her! Why didn't she move away from him? Oh, how he hated this man!

"No one's asking you to," She quipped back as she jerked away from him. "And I don't want to talk to you right now."

Ignis couldn't help but feel the smug thrill of those words.

"Al-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now," she repeated through her teeth, backing into Ignis. Thinking she was either siding with him or asking for support, he slid an arm around her shoulders. She immediately shook him off, much to his dismay. "And I don't want to talk to you, either." She pulled her hand away from him and turned on her heel, marching off.

"What? What do you mean?" When she didn't answer, he followed after her rapidly retreating footsteps. Alvor tried to follow him, but Ignis skillfully led him into an on-coming chocobo cart, forcing him to stop and re-route. "Stop, Leya!"

Ire—quick and profound-rose in him as she kept moving away, ignoring his request for her to halt. What had he done to deserve this? He came here out of deep concern for her, after months of being apart, and this was the treatment he received? What had happened to his sweet, kind, cheerful, helpful assistant? When she wouldn't stop, he snapped at her. "Leya!" he demanded, in his most authoritative tone.

She paused midstep and turned to him. "Why did you even come here?" She asked him, her voice thick with some sort of emotion. Was it anger? Disbelief? Sadness? He couldn't tell.

"What do you mean?" He asked, truly confused.

"You disappear for months at a time, then you get wind of one little problem and you feel the need to rush to my rescue? Where are you when I need you?" Her voice definitely quivered, on the edge of tears.

He was shocked to silence. What did she mean? A cold fear ran through him. "What happened?" He reached for her arm. "Is there something the matter?"

She pulled her arm away from him with a jerking motion, leaving him all the more bewildered. "I don't know if you've noticed or not, but it's been two years…. Over two years, in fact. I've managed to survive just fine all by myself. You weren't around when I…" She paused and thought better than to say it.

If she had finished her sentence, perhaps it wouldn't have been as terrifying as her leaving it unsaid.

"I don't need you to save me." She finally stated.

Something hard and painful began to well up in his chest. He had failed her somehow. Something had happened, and he hadn't been here to protect her. But Aleya had never craved his protection… Was it something else? Did she truly believe he and Aranea were in some sort of sexual relationship? Surely she knew him better than that! Was she simply angry at him leaving her after that display of passion? But she, better than anyone, understood his duty… Perhaps she was angry because of duty. He had always hoped she was the one person who would understand his obligations, but he had also been afraid she wouldn't. That must be it! The day he had dreaded to think about had come. He had fallen for her, and she was rejecting him—not for his personality or for some fateful mistake—but because he had to prioritize his King. She had grown tired of his duties, his obligation…perhaps had grown tired of him. Didn't she understand what she meant to him? Could she tell how much he desperately wanted to be near her? How badly he needed her? The sense of pain began to fade into welling desperation. He couldn't lose her as well, or he would truly be left to grapple with endless darkness. "Aleya," he pleaded as he stepped towards her. "Let's discuss this. Tell me what's wrong. We'll work on it together; We always do."

Her voice became firm. "I'm sorry, Ignis. I can't. I just—I can't talk to you right now." And with that, she turned on her heel, climbed up into the pickup truck, and asked the driver to take her back to Lestallum.

He tried appealing to her again, but she wasn't listening. And Ignis Scientia—once the pride and joy of the Scientia household, the most trusted servant of the King, retainer to His Highness, destined for the second most powerful seat in Eos, who took pride in his wit, intellect, battle acumen, tactical genius….suddenly found himself truly and utterly alone. Alone, cold, and bitterly lost.

16th of December, ME 758

Ignis was terribly, agonizingly, bitterly angry. He lay awake all the rest of the evening after he returned, fuming to himself, feeling that if she were in such a foul mood, he would trouble her no longer. No, he needn't ever trouble her again! She could galivant off to wherever she pleased; He wouldn't dream of stepping in and 'saving' her any longer. In fact, she'd be lucky if he ever graced her with the sight of his face again!

At least, that's what he told himself. But by the time the morning bells rang, he realized that she hadn't been that easy to put aside. Indeed, she continued to haunt him, despite his determination to erase her existence from his thoughts. He finally sprang up in helpless desperation, nearly mad with concern, determined to find out where the folly may lie. He decided to speak with Iris. He hoped that she might know why Aleya was in such a tumultuous mood, and how she might be won over.

He found her at her usual station—by her little clothes cart in the broad main alley. He apparently caught her at the end of breakfast—a packed sandwich of egg and tomato.

She waved at him as he approached before remembering he couldn't see her. There she stood at her shop, waiting for a customer to wander by. She had nothing but idle time on her hands, and seeing Ignis was a welcome distraction. "Ignis! Hi!"

"Morning!"

"Wow. You look terrible."

She was more Prompto than Gladio at times, but at least she was honest. "I'm afraid I haven't been sleeping well."

"The sound of the plant keeping you awake? Took me nearly six months to get used to it, myself."

"Something like that."

"Are you interested in anything new? I've got a few new items we recovered from Altissia on the last refugee run."

"I'm afraid not, but you can help me in another area."

"Shoot!" She replied, cheerfully.

He didn't waste time. "I have some questions regarding Aleya."

Instantly, her attitude changed. "Gosh, Ignis, I don't know. I don't think she would like me talking about…"

He made his tone firm and commanding. "I need answers, Iris, and you're likely the only one to know the answers."

Iris thought for a moment, scuffing her shoes against the table leg and scratching at her arm in an attempt to expel nervous energy. "Okay. Anything for you. What do you want to know?"

"While I've been away on these assignments…Has anything happened?"

"Lots of things happen. Can you be more specific?"

Iris wasn't stupid, and he was frustrated at her attempt to re-route him. "Did Aleya fall into any trouble?"

Iris thought for a moment. "Oh…um…Well…."

"Please, Iris, it's important."

"She didn't want me telling you."

"I won't tell her you told me," he assured her.

"It was a promise!" Iris pleaded with a faint whine.

Ignis showed no mercy. "It's imperative that I know. She's not acting herself."

She pondered for a moment or two before dragging up a chair. "Ok, I guess everyone else knows. I'm surprised you haven't heard already, actually. Your ears are so sharp these days. Here, Iggy. Sit down."

"I'd rather stand, thank you."

She sounded dubious. "I think you'd really rather sit."

This sounded ominous. He began to question whether he really wanted to know. "Is it that bad?" He asked her, worriedly.

"Not like bad, bad. But knowing you, you'll freak out. You're always so protective of her."

He overlooked the comment, although he never thought he had been so obvious. "I don't 'freak out'," he answered, a bit insulted.

"Well…" She again sounded dubious, questioning his assurance.

"Iris."

"Fine, fine." She sat across from him. "It was about a month after you left. One of the trams needed a repair. She'd done it a dozen times. Everybody does it. It's pretty routine stuff; No one would have ever guessed there would be a problem. But while she was on the roof, the tram just slipped the rails somehow."

Alarm ran through him. "She fell from the height of the plant?!" No, that was impossible. To survive a fall like that, she'd have to evolve rapidly to owning wings.

"No, the tram just took off like crazy. No one could stop it. She managed to slow it a bit before it crashed into one of the pylons between here and Old Lestallum. It was a big crash, and it threw her off. She hurt her leg really badly. When she fell, she hit a tree, and one of the branches skewered straight through her thigh before it snapped." She got carried away with the description, despite Ignis' rapidly blanching face. "The doctor said it tore away a lot of her muscle. And when she landed, it broke the same leg. Her bone was sticking out of her skin on her shin. I've never seen anything so gross in my life."

It sounded beyond painful, and traumatic, and very distinctly dangerous. She couldn't afford to lose blood or go into shock, considering her chronic anemia. He felt a bit giddy at the thought of the injury. Though unrealistic, he wished he could somehow prevent even the slightest pain to come to her. But the story was not yet over.

"What's worse, she had to stay out there a long time, all by herself. The Marshal sent a few men out to find her, but they were attacked several times along the way. They actually lost a man before they reached her location, and it took forever. It was really bad. They didn't think anyone could survive that long on their own. When they found her, it was pretty rough. She had lost a lot of blood, and had to dig a deep hole with her hands and bury her leg to try to cover the scent. She was really shaken up. She got an infection. After she got over the fever and healed up, she couldn't sleep for a week. She never went into detail about what happened, but you can use your imagination. All those monsters? She must have hidden some kind of way, but I imagine she wondered if they would find her. Can you imagine?! Surrounded by all those things and not even able to run? And that smell of blood maybe attracting all the animals in the area? I would be petrified!"

She was right to have him seated. Even in a sitting position, he could feel weakness in his legs. It was quite nearly the worse-case scenario. She could have easily been killed in such a situation, and quickly. Had her wit been any less keen, no doubt she would have been a corpse.

"When she was recovering, she was delirious for a while. She had a lot of nightmares. She talked a lot in her sleep."

Ignis lifted an eyebrow as a questioning gesture.

"I was the one who mostly took care of her. At those times, I could tell she was reliving it out there." She paused for a moment, and then decided to chance it. "Iggy, are you guys…you know. Are you together, or something?"

"I hardly think that is a subject for discussing at the current moment."

"I don't know about that. It's just that she seemed like…" She seemed embarrassed to even mention it. "I mean, she was…She was really out of it, but…she asked for you a lot. Like, a lot!"

He took it like cold water in the face. He could remember her asking him where he was when she needed him. He suddenly felt like a miserable human being, even though there was no possible way he could have known she was in danger or suffering. He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. "I had—no idea."

"She wouldn't want you to. I shouldn't even be telling you. It's just that, technically, you know…you outrank me and all…"

Iris wasn't technically in the crownsguard, but Ignis wasn't going to bring it up. She was a treasure trove of information at the current moment. Whatever would keep her talking was acceptable to him. "She called for me?"

She sighed. "Yeah. While she was delirious, she thought she was dying, and she was asking for you. Actually, she kept saying, 'Where is Ignis? I want to see Ignis.'" She paused at the expression on his face. "Sorry, Iggy. I know you don't want to hear it. She wasn't going to die or anything; It's just that her brain was all messed up from the fever."

He didn't know what to say. He imagined her in terrible pain, delirious from fever or fatigue—or perhaps both—tossing and turning and reliving the nightmares of the ordeal, calling for him. She had nursed him back from the brink of death. Where was he when she needed him? Training, recovering supplies, hunting, researching, aiding strangers. The last she had seen of him, he had kissed her, then left in a flurry. Maybe she had become frustrated, and had taken on the more challenging jobs. When things went wrong, she held on to one final gleam of hope that he would come and help her. After all, he seemed to be able to help every refugee and wounded soldier from here to Gralea. No wonder she was angry. He didn't blame her. He was angry at himself.

"And Alvor? Did he offer help?"

"Oh, Alvor. He was all over it. He insisted on going with the group to save her. Picked her up and carried her like a baby. The doctor wouldn't allow him in the room, but he was always hovering right outside the door while she recovered. He's been clinging to her like a magnet. He follows her everywhere. He apparently was the one that paid the doctor in items so that he would heal her leg."

Ignis' blood ran cold. No, not only had he not shown up when she needed him, his rival had swooped in like her official knight in shining armor. No wonder!

"She had a stash of potions in her room. I know. I've seen them. But when we offered to use them, she begged us not to. I don't get why she just hoards them when she could use them."

And there was the salt on the wound. She wouldn't let anyone touch them, because she had worked hard to acquire them for him, so he would be safe. Thinking back on the items he had retrieved and used since that time turned his stomach. His guilt was deep. His mouth went dry and he began to breathe slightly harder, flaring his nostrils to take in oxygen.

Iris noticed. "Sorry. Anyway, he got some really great items for her, and the doctor did great work. She doesn't even have a limp. But since then, he's stuck to her like glue. She feels indebted to him for helping her. They're getting pretty close. So…if you like her, Iggy, you better make a move pretty quickly. He tried to kiss her a few days ago."

Ignis' eyes flashed with a fury as he sat bolt upright. "He tried to…?"

"Calm down, Iggy. She didn't let him." She watched Ignis relax a bit before she threw the next dagger at him. "But she smiled a lot like she liked it."

Ignis stood and resorted to slightly pacing in his despair.

"I mean…you guys have known each other for like…years! Make a move already, if you like her!"

That clearly was not going to happen at the current moment. She was infuriated with him; She quite clearly stated that she didn't want to speak to him. "She blames me," he muttered under his breath.

Iris hummed out a syllable before launching in to more verbiage. "No, not really. I talked to her after
Alvor put the moves on her." (At this, Ignis suppressed the urge to groan aloud.) "I brought you up in conversation, and she got this far away look on her face. I asked her what was up, and all she would say is that she missed you."

"She misses me? Then why does she refuse to see me?"

"I don't know. Don't ask me. You guys are complicated." Iris sat back in a huff.

That wasn't helpful at all. Ignis sat back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose around his glasses. He wasn't the complicated one. He quite clearly wanted to see her, and had tried in every way to do so. Was she angry? Was she mystified at his absence? Was she embarrassed by her accident and had tried to avoid speaking to him about it? Or was her attempt to avoid him an effort to appease Alvor, who had rushed to her rescue while he was halfway across the continent, blissfully unaware? He had to find out. He had to fix it and quickly, before Alvor moved in any closer and could steal her away. He clenched a fist. "Iris, can you convince her to meet with me? I'd like a word."

"I don't know. Haven't you tried to talk to her?"

"Repeatedly."

"Well then, I doubt I'm going to do any good. If you can't coax her, nobody can." Iris tapped his foot with her boot, an affectionate tease. "Since she obviously likes you so much."

"I fail to see anything obvious in her current mood," Ignis complained, with a sigh. It didn't even occur to him to find fault in the statement of her liking him. Normally, he would have targeted such a statement and put an end to it before rumors could spread. At this point in time, it didn't really matter. He could do with a few rumors that Aleya could tune in to regarding his affections. Perhaps it would give her pause in pursuing a relationship with his rival.

"Maybe if we put our heads together, we can figure something out. If we could figure out a way to get her in a room, or something…"

There was a voice that sounded behind her, deeply masculine, a bit of a growling purr laced between words. "Who's getting a room? Not sure I approve of you talking like that."

"Gladdy!" Iris jumped up and ran to him, all delight, and threw her arms around him. "You're back!" And then she immediately backed away, pinching her nose. "Gosh, when's the last time you used soap?"

"I don't remember," Gladio told her, tousling her hair. He walked past her, towards Ignis. "Hey, Iggy. How's the training going?"

"At a pause, for the moment," Ignis admitted. "Iris and I were just…catching up."

"Yeah? Well, speaking of catching up, we got a few refugees to catch at Coernix. There's been a big demon invasion over there. The Catoblepas' are getting antsy, too. It's a mess. Figured I could use a little help cleaning up, if you're interested."

Ignis was torn. While he was eager to respond to Gladio when help was needed—after all, Gladio finally found him somewhat capable of pulling his own weight in battle—he also thought it was a terrible time to leave, all things considered. He had just found out what could happen when he was gone for extended periods of time. He didn't want to waste a single moment in mending things up with the woman he cared about most in the world. What's more, he couldn't leave any room for Alvor to move in. He had left far too wide a gap in their relationship, as it was. Any wider, and she might slip through the cracks. He couldn't have that.

Gladio sensed his hesitation. "What? You have other plans?"

Iris tried to help. "He wanted to talk to…"

"Is it vital that you have assistance?" Ignis cut her off.

"Hell, no. You know me. I'd get the job done. I just heard some of the evacuees salvaged what they could of Lucian culture. There's a big book stash over there—some of the ancient boring stuff. Thought you might want to pick through it personally." He slapped Ignis on the shoulder. "Besides, it would be great training for you. For when Noct gets back."

Ignis sighed. It was far too tempting an offer to turn down. After all, even now, his King and the future of the world must come first. "How long do you estimate it will take?"

"What, you got some place to be?"

"I have to return with all expediency. It's a-personal matter."

If Gladio was perplexed, he certainly didn't express it. He simply shrugged. "Between the two of us? We'll have the job done in no time. End of pre-dark day, maybe?"

Ignis nodded. "Very well. I'll go with you."

"Great. I hitched us a ride with our usual Ferrywoman."

"Charming." That's all he needed. Aranea never missed a chance at quick sarcasm; Certainly not since she had found Aleya and Ignis alone together all those months ago. She had thought of a whole new slew of nicknames since that particular incident. He wondered how he was going to explain the 'Loverboy' or 'Bleeding Heart' nicknames to Gladio along the way. Cherry on the top, he supposed.

"Come on, let's get outta here. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back."

And the sooner, the better. As they passed, he turned to Iris. "Keep an eye on her until I get back," he told her quietly. And then, he departed once again, far from the person he wished to be the closest to. The one person he had failed so many times to protect.

18th of December, M.E. 758

Ignis had thought perhaps going on this hunt with Gladio would help him ease his troubled mind. He thought he would get lost in the task at hand—slaying demons and behemoths and incapacitating catoblepas'. And it was difficult work. If he hadn't been training to hone his other senses, he quite possibly would have perished. Despite the blazing strain of battle, and despite a keen focus on the task of hand, however, his first thoughts in the quiet moments were of her…always of her. It was frustrating, and depressing, and harrowing. He couldn't move on from the thought of her lying under a shrub in the dark, bleeding, holding her breath so passing creatures couldn't hear, covering her wound in sand to bury the scent as much as possible. He thought of her clinging to a dagger or some such, just waiting for a beast to leap upon her in a moment. He thought of her praying to herself that someone find her; He thought of Alvor finding her, carrying his—HIS!—Aleya in his arms. And then he thought of her going delirious in the fever of infection, calling for him. That the last image was always some phantom Alvor trying to lay his mouth on Ignis' prized and cherished assistant, the woman he was determined to marry. The mental images distracted him, which was probably why he had to heal three times. It was admittedly not his finest moment, especially in front of a warrior who was convinced that he would never be up to par with his current disability.

Even Aranea called him 'rusty'. He thought of defending himself, but shied away from it. She already had a knack for teasing him incessantly. The less she knew, the better.

Once the refugees in the area were packed up and sent off on a ferry to Lestallum, he and Gladio were left alone to pilfer for useful materials at the station. Ignis tried his best to be stoic, to keep his mouth shut, but Gladio had obviously noticed his state of perpetual distraction.

"So what's up with you?" He said suddenly, breaking the thick silence.

Ignis grew immediately defensive. He wasn't even sure why. "What do you mean?"

Gladio flexed his injured shoulder. It was just he and Ignis now, as the civilians had been successfully evacuated, and now they were left to rummage about in the remaining items. "You're not inept. You're just distracted. Were you even paying attention out there? You're stewing on something. No pun intended, of course."

He sighed. It wasn't the first cooking crack he had heard, and he was certain it wouldn't be the last. All his life, he had worked attentively on his reputation. He had honed his wit as well as his physical prowess. He thought he would be known as a genius tactician. But even to the people closest to him, he was sometimes demoted to merely Cook.

He heard Gladio rustling about for a few moments. "Huh. Would you look at that?"

"What is it?"

"Something right up your alley, it looks like. Here."

Ignis extended a hand. He was surprised at the weight of the large object Gladio handed him. It had a lot of bulk. It was a rectangular object, and quite thick. He ran his hands over the dusty cover and identified it as a book. "Ah. Quite the large tome." No, it was no good. The title was not stitched, raised or indented. He would not be able to make out the title. "Can you make out the subject?"

"Yep. 'Expansive Compendium of the Cosmogony'. Weren't you looking for stuff like that?"

"Indeed."

"Once we get done here, we'll head back to Lestallum. Aleya can read it to you."

Ignis felt a rising dismay come over him; An ever-present sadness that had been waxing and waning since speaking to Gladio's sister. "Would if that were true," he muttered under his breath, fiddling absent-mindedly with the book in his hands. She used to read him books like these before he began training with Aranea. At times, that's how they fell asleep at night. And stretching back even further into their past, he could remember countless hours of her poring over a book, reading him the highlights. She would press the pen to her chin absent-mindedly, head down, never noticing him staring. She always read the ones most considered too complicated, excited and nearly breathless over the content within.

Those people—that Ignis and Aleya—seemed to be long gone. To try to see them again was pointless. The world had changed; The darkness had sank into their hearts. Their star was devoid of joy. He doubted that he'd ever be able to reach her again. That woman that once hung on to his every word seemed somehow now to resent them. If he had never tried to explain his feelings, perhaps none of this would have ever…

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gladio barked at him. "What's wrong with Allie?"

Ignis paused. He wasn't sure how to respond. There was nothing 'wrong' with her, per se. The fault appeared to be entirely his own.

Gladio crossed the room and shoved Ignis in the shoulder. Ignis had been lost in thought, and wasn't expecting it. He stumbled a bit. "Hey! Answer me! What's wrong with her? Is she sick or something?"

He seemed awfully concerned, Ignis thought. He supposed Gladio had always been very taken with her. He had made many comments implying that he was interested in pursuing her. How would he feel, he wondered, if his best friend took the lady he had his heart set upon? Though, he certainly felt he deserved it. "No," Ignis replied hesitantly. "Last I spoke to her, she was in good health."

"Yeah, so?"

"So?"

Gladio gruffed under his breath. "Come on, Iggy. Pull your head out of your ass already. What's with you? I've never known you to sulk."

"I am not sulking," he retorted, irritably. He turned away, frustrated.

"Alright, alright. Get it off your chest already. What's with you? Trouble in paradise?"

Ignis was quite aware of the meaning of the phrase. However, 'paradise' was a long time ago, when they were far younger. It had only been a few years, but they had aged them all so much, he could barely remember his previous life. They all seemed to carry the bitterness, trauma, and angst of the old wounded war veterans.

And how exactly had Gladio concluded there was a chance at a 'paradise' between them, anyway? That was even more frustrating. Ignis curled his lip a bit as he unwillingly answered. "She's decided to keep her distance from me, for now."

"Aleya? Are you sure?"

He would have rolled his eyes if he still had full muscle control in the left side. "She's told me as much. She's said she doesn't wish to speak to me."

"Huh." Gladio scratched the back of his head. "What did you do to her?" He knew Aleya very well, although not as well as Ignis. No one else could have possibly known her that well. At least he hoped not.

He bristled. "Nothing."

"Hm." It was more of a grunt than an expression of curiosity. "Are you sure, Iggy? I mean, Aleya would never…"

He interrupted him in a bolt of frustration. "My eyesight is gone, but I assure you I hear fabulously. She said 'I don't want to talk to you'. She was angry. She rode off in a transport truck and left me in the middle of Maldacio with nary another thought. Before that, she was ignoring my correspondence and avoiding meeting with me altogether."

"That can't be right. There's gotta be more to the story."

"Well, there isn't. That's all there is."

Gladio wasn't buying it. "So she suddenly out of the blue walked up to you and said she doesn't want to talk to you?"

Ignis didn't reply. He turned his back and pretended to scour through the stacks of supplies lining the shelves on the wall. He laid the textbook aside, and set to work on turning objects over in his hands, smelling them, to determine their purpose and usefulness.

His companion was silent for a while, following Ignis' lead on the secret. But the usually stoic Gladio finally turned to him, a bit irritated. "Here's the thing. I happen to know for a fact that she's crazy about you."

Ignis scoffed. His lip curled into a dubious smirk. He once thought as much, too. She used to smile at him, flush when he got too close, stare into his eyes, find good excuses to be near him. In that way, she was like him, for he was doing the same things to be closer to her. Beginning with initial attraction, blossoming to deep concern, and then love, the desire to pursue her. He had felt certain that their feelings were mutual. Now, after he had showed her his true feelings, she had decided to abandon him, in preference for a fellow Galahdian hunter who was insulting and probably violent and obviously lacked appropriate social skills.

"No, it's true," Gladio continued. "Look, I'm not aimin' to get involved here. But are you absolutely sure she's avoiding you?"

"Yes." His voice was sharper than he had intended.

"Since when?"

"Since I…" Ignis paused. Best not to spill the tea on that particular subject. "Does it matter?" He felt weary of this whole conversation.

"Of course it does! Look, I've been taking bets on the two of you getting together for years."

"Sorry to disappoint you." Ignis kept mindful of his task. He was through of speaking about her with Gladio. He would rather talk all day long to Iris than to Gladio, at least about this particular matter.

Gladio blew out a quick breath in disgust. "So you're sayin' you're not going after her?"

"There would really be no point, would there?" As soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth, he regretted saying them. He felt horribly melancholy. Once, he had thought her dead; He had felt himself ripped in half, and felt as if a great deal of himself had died with her. Now, was he giving up on her so easily? Over one argument? An argument that, in all truth, was entirely his fault? Did he even deserve her?

Gladio leaned back on a nearby table, crossing his arms. "Great. Sounds good to me. I was holding back because I thought you wanted her. Since you don't, I can make my move."

Ignis' ear almost visibly twitched. That switch—that familiar fire of jealousy—ticked in Ignis' brain. He couldn't help it. It was completely involuntary. Deep down, he still regarded her as exclusively his own, and he didn't want anyone else moving in. His instincts were to fight such a threat. He turned to Gladio slowly, stiffly. "What do you mean by that?"

"When we get back to Lestallum, I'm going to show her what a real man can do for her."

"'Real man'?!" Ignis echoed, anger rising.

"No offense, Iggy, but you don't know what you're doing with a woman. You wouldn't know the first thing about how to show a lady a good time. She needs a- more experienced touch."

Ignis' nostrils flared and he tilted his head back slightly. Gladio was one of his best friends, but if he ever gave her an 'experienced touch', he would be a dead man. "I'm quite certain she's not the type to indulge in your 'experience'," Ignis fairly spat at him. "She prefers a gentleman."

"How do you know?"

"Because that's what started all of this! Because I-!" Ignis caught himself in time, startled that his emotions were once again causing him to act senselessly. It was a bad habit he would have to break before Noct made his appearance.

Gladio chuckled. "Ignis, you're a genius at a lot of things, but you're lost on women. I bet you've never even thought of getting to first base."

A pause passed between them. He knew he was being baited. Gladio was good at that sort of thing. At the same time, he had spoken a truth that Ignis couldn't ignore. Gladiolus was indeed more 'experienced' at handling women. If Ignis had any way of salvaging the relationship between them, it was best to attain himself of it, by any means necessary. Mustering up the courage, dreading the outcome, he spoke. "That's not true. Aleya and I…I've—" He took a deep breath, steeling himself, working up courage. He squared his shoulders and pushed his glasses higher on his nose. "I've kissed Aleya." So it was out. He felt a bit triumphant, actually.

Gladio was still for a moment. Ignis couldn't figure out what he was thinking. Was he shocked? In disbelief? Was he frustrated? Maybe he was jealous. Did he think Ignis was joking? "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. It was six months ago. I was overcome, and I…I decided. Unfortunately, we were interrupted. Afterwards, I had to depart on a hunt. We haven't really spoken since. I tried; she would not reciprocate. I've learned from Iris that she had—she had an accident, in which she was gravely injured. She wanted my help. But I never even knew of it! What must she think?"

Gladio chuckled in a bit of disbelief. "You kissed her? You—Ignis Scientia—you made the first move?"

"We've established that!" Ignis bit back in irritation. Hadn't he heard anything else he had said? He was desperately searching for help, and this is what his focus was on?

To his surprise, Gladio laughed. "Didn't think you had it in you."

"Of course I did!" Ignis fairly yelled. "I'm a man, am I not?"

Gladio held up his hands in surrender. "No offense, Specs. You're just wound a little tight, that's all."

"You're not helping," Ignis complained, put out. Noctis would have at least listened before teasing him. Ignis was not the sort of man who felt free to share his deepest feelings, especially with other men. He was humiliated enough without Gladio making it worse.

He felt a hand clap him hard on his back, and Gladio chuckled. "Easy, there. I'm just happy for you two."

"Don't be. As I said, she's been avoiding me since. I should have kept my feelings to myself. If I had known it would make her so angry…If I had known it would have led her to making ill choices and putting herself in danger…I'd never have done so."

Gladio continued to chuckle to himself as he kicked over a crate on the floor. Ignis could hear the components spill out and scatter. "Believe me, Ignis. She's not angry about you kissing her."

Bewildered, more than curious, he turned to him. "How can you be certain?"

There was a long silence, as if Gladio were deciding on whether to continue the conversation or not. Then, he turned around and faced Ignis. "Alright, fine. But don't tell Allie I told you."

"Your family seems to have a habit of spilling her secrets."

"Do you want to know or not?"

"Of course."

"The truth of the matter is that I tried to go after her a long time ago," Gladio began.

Ignis' face soured. What did that possibly have to do with she and Ignis' relationship? Besides, he already knew Gladio had been enamored with her back in their days at the Citadel. Still, for him to openly admit it at a time such as this bode ill for Ignis' mood.

"But she turned me down," Gladio continued. "So I tried again and again. I went after her, really hard. I figured I'd get my way eventually, and we'd hook up. I was super into her."

"Gladio…" Ignis warned, through clenched teeth.

"It was no use, though. I started noticing the two of you when you were together, and I guess I pretty much had it figured out. I asked her if she was into you." He paused, cleaning some dust off of his palms.

"And?" Ignis pressed. This was getting exasperating.

"She wouldn't tell me, but she looked very embarrassed. I read women like you read books, Ignis. That was a loud affirmative. So if you kissed her, I'd guess she isn't angry. You know how she is. She's probably just shy."

"Shy?" Ignis questioned, with a doubtful glance in his companion's direction. The whole conversation seemed rather unbelievable, especially the part about her having feelings for him. He hardly dared to hope. A thousand questions danced through his brain, and he wasn't sure which to ask first. When had they held this supposed conversation? Was it recently? Or had he wasted his time for over three years waiting for the opportunity to approach a relationship when she was already only waiting for a signal? If it was true, why hadn't she said something? Had she? Had he missed the clues she had been sending him? She had always looked for the chance to adjust his tie, or smooth out his hair, or clean his glasses. Then, of course, there was the kiss good luck when they left for Caem. The compliment about his eyes—wait. Perhaps his eyes had been the feature she was most attracted to? What about now, when he was blind? Is that why she seemed to reject his advances? Why would she be angry? The tone of her voice that day was angry, not…

"Yeah," He chuckled fondly. "It's pretty cute, actually."

Ignis scowled.

"Alright, alright. Enough of all this. We gonna take this cargo or what?"

He sighed. "Of course." He, for one, was glad the entire conversation was over, although he had gleaned useful information from the interaction. Perhaps he still had a chance to make things right. If he could only spell things out clearly to her, maybe she wouldn't be so confused, and her anger would subside. Best to pack up and head to Lestallum as quickly as possible.

As he bundled up a crate of medical supplies, Gladio threw a metal canister on top. "Here. Found it under a desk."

He replaced the crate and picked up the canister, rolling it over in his hands. A slow smile crept to his face. "It can't be. Ebony?"

"Probably the last one on Eos. You better enjoy it."

Ignis stood still for a moment quietly before shoving it into his jacket pocket and returning to the crate.

"What, you ain't gonna drink it?"

"Thought I'd save it to share with someone special."

Gladio shook his head as he exited through the doorway. "You? Waiting to share the first Ebony you've gotten your hands on in gods know how long? Now I know you're in love."

Ignis waited for the sound of his boots to fade fully before a smile crossed his features fondly. "Indeed."