6th of January, M.E. 759

Ignis and Aleya had not yet spoken of his confession. However, there was a less-than-subtle shift in their interactions. She seemed to blush when he walked in the room, and he caught himself humming. Their conversations were more muted than ever. They often went for long spans of time in absolute silence. However, suddenly the favorite place to sit for both of them was automatically the seat right next to the other. She had been told by Iris that Ignis had never left her side from the moment she had returned, but she didn't dare bring it up, except to thank him. Even her shy gratitude seemed to cause a fluster.

She was eager to get back to work and did so as soon as possible. She encouraged Ignis to do the same, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not yet. Something, somewhere, in the deepest recesses of his thought was telling him to linger. It wasn't just concern or attachment. It was a sixth sense of sorts. He was well aware of the citizenry keeping their distances and whispering in the streets. Gladio had already left, the Kingsglaive were re-occupied, and even the Marshal was on the move. She had no other means of security other than himself, and he was determined not to abandon her until he felt everything had sufficiently settled. He supposed he would just have to find new and inventive ways to continue his training and retrieve his information.

29th of January, M.E. 759

[DIRECT JOURNAL ENTRY]

I still can't believe how ignorant and callous people can exert themselves to be. I'll never forget going for a leisurely walk to pick her up from her shift at the plant, and running into a wall of a riot. Loud voices, angry shouting, profanity…saying the worst of all things about the purest woman in the world. The Marshal had sent out a few Glaive to deter the mob, and when I arrived, they were beginning to disperse.

Angry, frustrated, broken-hearted, and beyond fearful, I scrambled to find Aleya. I knew full well that mob was meant for her, and I could only begin to imagine what might have happened should they have gotten their hands on her. With a clue from Holly, I managed to locate her. She was hiding behind a stack of electric cable under an extension ladder, sobbing miserably.

It wasn't only the things they said, or the threats of violence. She was terribly injured. Her hands were covered in open and weeping blisters. There had been an incident with the boiler she had been working on, and it had doused her hands in the scorching water. Upon seeing her shredded flesh as she doubled over in pain, crying out, the townspeople lit into a conspiracy-driven panic. They immediately scrambled to inflict violence. She had fled as Holly called the Marshal.

I don't remember ever being so angry in my life. My heart shattered for her. She bore up bravely as I bandaged the wounds and used the medicinals I had to heal her. Her concern was not pain, or scarring from her wounds. She simply inquired why they would do such a thing to her. She truly did not understand. She worked tirelessly to keep them safe from the dark. She was a victim of Ardyn's assault, not a monster. Furthermore, she had been healed for quite some time. She told me she was beginning to wish they had tossed her over the wall into the dark; That it might have been preferrable.

Their senseless callousness was unfathomable. I could hardly stand it! With firm resolution, I announced we were leaving Lestallum.

She objected, of course. She feels a responsibility towards them. Or rather, she feels a responsibility towards Noct to look after what's left of his people—despite their lack of any sense or morality. However, I assured her that there were many men and women there that could do the work needed to keep the lights on. I needed her services more than they. I needed an assistant once more, to be my eyes, my memory, and my occasional translator. In that way, she could service Noct in a way no other person could. And so, she agreed, though she seemed hesitant about the two of us traveling about alone.

We intend to study the tombs and ruins alongside the Cosmogony to determine when Noct might return, and how we might win the battle to follow. We also intend to research the darkness and the sickness which has turned man and beast into what is commonly referred to as 'demons'. (I agree with Leya! I'd rather take on those creatures than the ones fully clad and fed in Lestallum!)

Before I left, I made a grand public speech to point out that I had seen the Oracle's prophecy fulfilled: Darkness had grown in their hearts; Darkness that evoked terror, hatred, and sorrow. Should I have shamed even a handful of them, my mission had been accomplished. I hope they have enough shame to torment themselves with for quite some time.

I'm writing in the tent now, and I can hear Aleya singing with the other Galahdian Glaive. It's the anthem of those holding the front line in this dark. The lyrics burden my soul:

Battle scarred down to the bone; Falling, failing to believe.

Living in so much despair, with no hope of reprieve.

Was I born to be betrayed, was I born to simply die?

Can I bear to speak the truth, when it feels like a lie?

Upon my honor, I will bring light to her world once more. She will be happy again. I swear it.

Faux Fish Farfalle

Canned fish—shape it to a rose?

Bowtie pasta

Sheepmilk & sharp cheese—whip to a sauce

"Hungry?" Ignis tried to make his voice as cheerful as possible. He stood over Leya and extended a paper plate.

She gave the dubious offering a smile. "Only you could deliver cold canned fish with such flourish."

"Presentation is half the flavor." He sat next to her on the Havenrock as she took the plate.

She giggled as she looked down at the flakes of fish. "Is that a Cleigne rose?"

"Ah, so you can recognize it."

"How did you manage that?"

"It's amazing what skills a man can learn when blessed with culinary genius, only cursed to cook all manners of empty calories and preservatives for the picky palate of the Young Heir."

She laughed softly. "I remember those fancy hot dogs at Gladio's birthday…"

Ignis sat back, maintaining his balance on the rock floor by extending his arms behind him. "That's a memory best forgotten."

"What did Prompto call them…?" She continued over Ignis' feigned groan. "Precious piggies? Pretty piggies?"

"He said something offensive about the pineapple."

"It was creative."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Not my finest moment."

"Good times," she said around a mouthful of fish. And then after a few moments of chewing, "…They were all good times back then."

They sat for a few moments in silence. They could hear the Glaive chattering behind them, roaring with laughter on occasion. They were certainly a lively bunch. How they maintained their optimism in such trying times was a true inspiration. It must have been inherent in the Galahdian blood. It seemed to course through them all.

He imagined what the glaive members accompanying them might look like, how the camp would be arranged, the way the stars might appear in the sky. He imagined Aleya, too. Her hair had grown back to its normal length, and she kept it well-regulated. He imagined her hair blowing over her shoulder. Recently, the supply of her favorite shampoo had been exhausted. No longer could he smell the mingling sweet aroma that used to tint the breeze when she was near, which always had delighted his senses. No, but she had a unique and pleasant scent all her own, and it wafted gently in the air. He thought of how beautiful she had been so many years ago when they had camped by the fire; Before Altissia, before the world changed forever, when they were so young and so full of optimism and spirit. They had both become so different. And yet, the fundamental aspects of who they were remained intact. She, for example, had that wild fighting Galahdian spirit.

She wasn't the only one. They both refused to give up what mattered to them. In that way, they were alike. But they were alike in so many other ways, as well: Fortitude, courage, selflessness, intelligence and compassion. Those qualities still ran through the core of their very being. Perhaps they were no longer as they were in their youth. But they were still Ignis and Aleya; A matched set. They were a perfect pair, a left and right. They were color and light, stillness and energy, with a sort of peace and stability while the rest of the world was so out of control. And in realizing that, he loved her more than ever.

He found they had fallen into a profound and shy silence again. He sat up, reaching his hand over to her. He set it next to her leg, an open invitation. It wasn't long before her hand timidly dropped to his. "They were good times," he agreed with her. "But those days are not lost forever. Simply delayed. Time to get back on track, don't you think?"

Her bandaged hand now wrapped around his, and clutched as if she were hanging on for dear life. She let out a quick breath. "Are you sure about this? You sure I won't slow you down?"

"Leya, we've had this conversation at least a dozen times. Of course not. I told you I need an assistant, did I not?"

She set her plate on her lap. "Igs, I have to be honest. I'd follow you anywhere. But…it's scary." Her voice quivered a bit.

"Don't be afraid," he assured her, softly. "I'm not going to let anything untoward happen to you. Never again. I promise."

Was it his imagination, or did he hear the slightest racking shake of breath that signaled a flood of deep emotion? "Thank you, Igs. Thank you for getting me out of there."

"Of course. Anything for you, My Girl. I'll always look after you." His voice dropped a bit, again overtaken by a bit of awkward shyness. "I always have."

Her fingers squeezed a bit more around his hand. "Don't you have enough on your plate without looking after me, too?"

He chuckled. "Well. In a full meal, there's the hardiness of the meat, the cure of the vegetables, the comfort and compassion of the starch…" He bumped her shoulder with his own quickly, a gesture of teasing. "And then there's the joy of dessert. I'll always make room for dessert."

She didn't know what to say. She just laughed a bit. Just a little. And then they went silent, simply enjoying the stillness and peace of the other's company. It didn't really matter how much time passed. He felt certain if such time stretched into eternity, he would be more than content.

31st of January, M.E. 759

They had left Lestallum far behind them, and if it were up to Ignis, they would never set foot in that accursed city again.

They were on their way to the Malmalam thicket. The Glaive the Marshal had recruited for their security—and the tram that escorted them—were also far behind.

They had made good time on their journey, and had already made it to Kellebram Haven. It had been an adventurous day. Aleya hadn't exactly grown accustomed to how many varieties of creatures could jump out from the ferns and rocks to attack. He thought the Havenrock might provide her with some welcome relief, but it seemed she was still well-trenched in her anxiety.

"I don't like it here."

Ignis slid a finger along the leather sheath Aleya had long ago made for his kitchen knives. He paused over the one with the more rugged handle, thicker, with carved lines. He pulled it from the set, cheerfully. Time for dinner. "Unfortunately, we don't have much of a choice."

He could sense her stepping closer to his knelt position next to the campfire of the havenrock. She was at his shoulder blade on his "blind" side, but with his senses acutely honed, he could tell where she was. He could feel the shift of the current of the air, could feel the temperature change with the nearing of body heat. She kept sidling closer to him as she talked. He could picture her looking around, squinting in the dark, hunched over like a nervous cat. She didn't even mean to bump into him, but she did. "Aren't you nervous? I can see them out there. Some of them even glow."

He hefted a Leiden potato in his hand before he stood. He was sure that with the few ingredients they had found along the way—including the seadevil they had skewered—he would be able to at least make a simple stew for them. "One of the advantages of being blind, I suppose." He stood and stepped away from her, making his way towards the edge of the havenrock.

"Where are you going?" She cried, racing after to grab him. She managed to clutch a fist full of his jacket.

"There's hardly need for panic," Ignis assured her. "I'm merely going to the edge, to wash up the provisions."

"You don't have to do that. We still have crackers."

His head tilted as he gave a slight frown. "You'll need more than crackers. You're all bones these days. If I don't feed you, you'll likely faint."

"I'm not that skinny!"

He leaned forward towards her slightly, as if sharing secrets. "I've had my arms around you a number of times. I know when you've been half starved." He yielded to the small push to get him to stand upright again with a smile.

"But it's dangerous."

He turned to her patiently. "Aleya, I recognize this is a new experience for you. The last time you were out alone in conditions like this, things did not go well. But you were alone then, and you're scarcely that, now. I've told you I wouldn't let anything untoward happen to you. I assure you everything is well in hand. You've nothing to fear." He paused as she absorbed that thought. He reached out with his free hand and ran a thumb over her bandaged palm. "How is your hand faring?"

"What? Oh. I can hardly feel it anymore. I could probably take the bandages off."

"Best to leave them on a day longer, just to be certain." He turned again to walk to his destination.

"Wait! At least take me with you!"

"To stream's edge? The danger's minimal, but you're safer here."

Her hands moved to the arm holding the knife and clung on tightly. "Ignis. Don't leave me alone."

"Leya." His tone was a bit of a chide, but only just. The bulk of his tone sounded like consolation. "I have much experience in these matters. I assure you, we're perfectly safe here. The demons are repelled by the fluorescence."

She was hesitant, clutching his arm. "You sure? There's never been a time when they weren't repelled? Even the ones that float or fly?"

"Even then." He reached out and touched her face, grazing his fingers over her chin, lingering a bit over the corners of her mouth. It was the only way he could read her expression. "Do you think I'd take a chance with your life?"

She didn't say anything, but she did dislodge her hands from his arm with resignation.

He thought for a moment, trying to figure out a way to assure her, or at least distract her. "Perhaps an assignment for you? Could take your mind off of matters."

"Assignment?"

"You can turn out the blankets for camp. Side by side."

She stared at him for a moment. "Side by side?"

"Of course." He tossed the chef knife in the air and caught it expertly as gravity sent it somersaulting back down. "I can feel a chill in the air. It's going to grow colder." With that, he flashed her a smile and took off for the stream side.

Completely flummoxed, she set to work.

After the meal of potato and shredded seadevil meat, he noted she had already nearly adjusted to the sights and sounds of the perpetual night that surrounded them. Once they had rested a few hours, they'd be on their way to the tomb that lay beyond. It was, he assured her, a much shorter distance than from where they had parked along the river.

The world had been growing gradually colder with the fading sunlight, but in late January, it was even colder. The fire staved off the dangerous bitterness of the chill, but they still shivered as they lay on their backs on the rock. He stayed awake for quite a while as Leya described what the sky looked like to him…what little she could see if it between the thick underbrush. There weren't as many stars as before, she noted. He tried his best to remain alert due to concerns over the night air and her health. After all, though it was charming that she was so shy, she had put the blankets head-to-head instead of side-by-side. And she only thought to do that so she could talk to him without shouting over the sound of the waterfall. Otherwise, they would have been foot-to-foot. Still, exhaustion overtook him, and he fell asleep shortly after her description of the constellation Alexander.

He woke a while later to a sound in the distance. His ears were tuned to sounds very few humans could even begin to hear due to his disability. But when he did awaken, he felt a large warm something at his side, and was beyond surprised to find it was Aleya curled up next to him, shivering. He lay in silence for a while.

His first responsibility was to Noct, of course. But he wouldn't have minded if he woke up on a regular basis with her at his side…just like this.

1ST of February, M.E.759

They weren't exactly sure how they would enter the tomb at Malmalam, but whatever had favored Ignis with the ability to open the tomb in Galahd still existed. When he touched the door, the cracks and creases glowed brightly orange as if on fire for a moment before they were granted entrance. It sealed behind them as they entered, keeping them from the dangers of the night. Whoever or whatever bestowed him such gifts: the visits from Umbra, the ability to make out a shadow of light from both Aleya and Noct in his otherwise completely sightless state, the ability to enter those sacred ruins and tombs to conduct his research unbarred, he supposed he would eventually have to discover to whom or what he owed his gratitude. The information they found was invaluable.

Aleya busied herself by copying down the script that ran along the border of the walls. There was ample information in that sacred Tomb of the Pious. 'The Pious' lived up to his name, for the writings were his musings on the meaning of life and the folly of flesh. Most of it did not seem to be worthy of their attention, but they were able to glean much information regarding the history and worship of the Astrals as well as the Blight of the Starscourge, which the Pious considered the payment of mankind's accrued sins.

Aleya, as always, ran at a pace that would lead to burnout. She wanted to be of use right away. Her energy, as was typical, drove with a wild fury for hours until she spent herself completely and suddenly. When she sat to translate, she ended up falling asleep on Ignis' shoulder.

He didn't mind; In fact, it filled him with a strange and delightful contentment. He felt that even though they had grown to know each other so well, and though they shared a natural symbiosis and affection that even those of the wedded sort coveted, they still seemed to crave more knowledge of the other. It was an emotion and a need he found very strange to his own mind; An enigma all its own. However, he didn't find it disturbing in the slightest.

What he was occasionally disturbed with was the keen awareness that—while he was an amply able warrior—it was no longer his own safety and well-being he was caring for. By taking her along with him and striving to protect her, he had in fact placed her in another kind of danger. They had chosen to leave the safe confines of the city to travel through fiend-infested Eos. If he made even the slightest of miscalculations in the middle of battle, it could be detrimental to the person he cared the most for. That thought gave him sharp anxiety.

Nevertheless, she might have been in even more danger in Lestallum, and from her own kind. It was also a great comfort to have her as his companion on his journey. They had been living in tandem so long, he felt life would feel unnatural without her. She was always extremely useful to him; No one could have aided him any better.

Tomorrow, they would be moving on. There was no point in staying in one place for an excessive amount of time. They would take down what they needed, and when they found a safe place to rest with the resources they needed—a shop and a caravan, for example—there they would stay to do the translations. The quicker they could solve the riddle of the night, all the better.