2nd of October, M.E. 762
Ignis was dreaming. He recognized it as a dream immediately. He was dreaming of happier days in Insomnia, in fact, of a specific date that he would never forget:
At the moment, he was leaning over a political thesis. He had his elbows on the desk, the fingers of his right hand keeping his forehead slightly aloft as they supported his brow. He only moved it, on occasion, to turn a page or mark a notation of the text. And at these times, the opposite hand would often float up and graze at his chin, deep in thought. Sometimes it would reach for a lukewarm sip of Ebony, as he did now. After tasting the tepid liquid, he took a moment for a stretch. He could tell by the tight burning sensation between his shoulder blades that he had stayed in one position far too long. His eyes fell to a sulking and half-way sleeping Noctis on the far end of the room, pretending to study, before drifting down, to the girl sitting in the floor of the library, a pile of books around her. His eyes went soft as he took in her soft hair, the way the lamplight hit her skin...
She looked up suddenly, squarely at him. Her face was a study of complete exuberance. "Boss!"
He froze, unable to determine whether to acknowledge by action that he had been watching her, or pretend it had been a mere coincidence that her eyes had met his, with his expression being one of amorous delight. His brain whirled and spun, like a mixer in batter that was far too thick. And then, suddenly he recovered. He raised his eyebrows casually, as if she had caught his attention with interruption. "I think I found what you were looking for," she told him, rising to her feet quickly. "It's in Teverov's composition of the Accordo contract. I found it in a cross-reference." She had moved to his side, hovering so near to him that his shoulder bumped into her torso.
His eyes weren't focused on the document she presented at all. They fell to the desk somewhere between the paper and her hip. He felt his color rising. She leaned in slightly to point at what she highlighted. Her hair tumbled forward as she bent, and the gloriously-scented waves brushed across his arm. Torture. Absolute torture. He shifted in his seat, a bit uncomfortable. He hoped she hadn't noticed what her presence was doing to him.
If not, she at least noticed the awkward silence. She stood back for a moment, watching him, and then suddenly snapped her fingers. She hadn't snapped her fingers when he first met her—it was a habit she had picked up by being around him. It was equally endearing. His lips quirked again as he heard the sharp sound in his left ear. "Ah! I know what you're thinking."-Well, he certainly hoped not. Even he couldn't believe what he was thinking! -"I need to double-check it in Amerinine." She went back quickly to the shelf. He watched as she side-stepped along the wall, one finger pointing at the row of books far above her, gliding back and forth in their search. And finally, she gave a slight "Aha!" as she looked up, espying the author's name on the lofty shelf.
"Amerinine," he murmured, watching her debate the stretch. "Shelf two. The reach is beyond you."
She twirled about, eyes to the ground, looking for the ever-elusive step-ladder.
"Allow me." He stood from the table. So far, everything was going as per memory, but now wasn't the moment Ignis was aiming for.
"Are you sure? I don't want to be any troub—" She paused, slightly confused as he approached her with a look in his eye she had never seen before.
Ah, so now it was changing. The gentle nudging of Ignis' wandering subconscious was changing what was into what could have been. It wouldn't be a matter of simply handing her the book this time, and walking away with the wistful regret of a lost chance. This dream was going to be exceedingly pleasant.
Indeed, she noticed him gazing at her with fiery determination, with a longing invitation. Her eyes shifted away, slightly to her left, as if looking for an escape route. He gave her no exit. She took a hasty step back, pressing herself against the bookshelf as he reached above her to snag the volume. He felt her hand against his chest, prepared to push if his body made contact with hers. But even in his imagination, he was ever the gentleman. He took one unhurried step back and presented her the object of her search, as he gently took the hand against his chest in his own.
She turned a fanciful shade of pink as she took the book from him in one hand and tried to pull the other one away. "Thank you," she stated, as she tried to retreat, and then paused, giving her hand a confused look as it lodged in his own unyieldingly. Her eyes looked up at him, startled. Yes, this is exactly how she would have reacted.
There was the soft sound of Noctis snoring in the background.
"I have a confession," Ignis told her, leaning forward, resting his other hand on the bookshelf behind her.
Her breath was quick, and she kept staring at something over his elbow. He found the pink flush on her cheeks positively adorable, and she was even more adorable at realizing that she was so flummoxed. This was Aleya as she had been back then—innocent of his affection, shy to even the slightest of his attention. She gave a quick glance around the library. "Boss, someone will misunderstand…What if the Crownskeep see?"
"Damn the Crownskeep," Ignis murmured in a low, smooth purr. "It doesn't matter anymore."
"But Noct..."
"Asleep."
She tried to pull her hand away again, and gave him a frustrated huff when he kept it held fast against his chest.
He smiled at her, tilting his head slightly. "Would you like to hear my confession?"
Her eyes swiftly bobbed to his mouth and back up to his eyes again, then settling on his mouth, betraying what she was thinking.
Yes, this is where and when it should have happened. The library was their favorite place (aside from the coffee shop, of course) and the court lamps cast the perfect lighting, illuminating the lighter strands of her hair in a soft glow. It should have been here, where they met, and where they had always lingered. It should have been now, when life was more carefree and they hadn't been unnecessarily aged by war, fear, torture, disability, and death. It should have been at this very moment, when the librarians were long gone, Noct was fast asleep, and the nearest other being was only one dismally fatigued and lethargic janitor who was working in a completely different wing. Tonight, it was going to be. He murmured again, stooping slightly to near his face to hers. "You've made an absolute mess of me."
"I—what?" Confusion etched deeper into her features for a moment, and she froze. However, a deeper red of flush had crawled to her face, and her eyes hadn't left his mouth. He could feel her beginning to tremble a bit. Her chest rose and fell in rapid rhythm. He waited ever so calmly for all her thoughts to process, for that moment when her chin began to tilt up as she moved towards him in a magnetic fashion. And the moment had come. Her eyelids fluttered as she edged forward and up slightly. He met her lips, giving her a kiss that was expertly done, rather than the bungled first kiss he had given her in Lestallum in a moment of compulsion.
Aleya dropped the book—A sure sign it was only a dream, for letting a book hit the floor would be a mortal sin in her world. Books were considered sacred to her. He found it amusing.
He was ecstatically happy in his dream state, and took her in a tight embrace, laying his face upon the crook of her shoulder. And then, suddenly, her body stiffened and lurched violently as she gasped. It was not a delighted or pleasurable inhalation, and he immediately took alarm.
He raised his sharp eyes and pulled away to see what was the matter. There, beyond her, bobbed the face of Ardyn Izunia. His face was pleated in a satisfied, cruel smile. He drew his arm back in obvious quick effort, and Aleya was nearly pulled from Ignis' grasp. At that time, Ignis' eyes fell on the cold sharp steel that emerged swiftly from her body, covered in matted crimson. "No!" He shouted in a hoarse cry of despair, moving his hands to find the offending wound.
Her knees gave out. He kept her aloft for a moment before falling against the bookshelf, sliding down with her. As he went to shift her, he stared in alarm at the hand that fell away from the gaping wound, coated in a thick liquid the color of black cherry. "No! No, no, no!" He sobbed frantically. He was so distraught, the words barely formed above a broken whisper. He kept trying to shout over the swell of his throat…trying again, and again, and there was no sound. Until finally, it ushered forth without hinderance or warning. "Help! Help! I need an elixir! Someone…anyone! Please! Please, I need—I need…" His voice echoed in the cold black void of space, only occupied by the one bookshelf behind them.
"That's one," Ardyn chimed in a sing-song voice, pleasantly.
And from nowhere—Noct.
Ignis flinched away as a sword hummed through the air in a translucent blue blur. It arced towards Ardyn's throat as Noctis shouted in the dark. "Get the hell away from them!"
Ignis wanted to aid Noctis; To jump up with daggers and lances drawn for battle. Instead, he stared in stupefaction at Aleya. Her eyes were red and teary, wide and shocked, no longer beautiful to gaze upon. They were a horror to look at in all their desperation, fear, and shock of pain. That dark cherry river ran from the side of that lovely mouth he had just enjoyed partaking of. He drew her to him, knowing there was absolutely nothing he could do for her, and the end was inevitable. He rocked back and forth in his misery, trying to keep her alive with sheer willpower.
The sounds of the battle between Noctis and Ardyn raged in his ears. Clang. Clang. Whistle, Clang. Bang! His heart was torn in two...How could he not race to his King's side? But how could he leave her to die alone?
Her fingers dug into his forearm with a fierce strength he never knew her to have. She took a wet breath and coughed up more of the black river. "No!" Ignis moaned, miserably. "Gods, no, Aleya! Noct has returned! He finally came back! Stay…please….Aleya…Oh, My Girl, My Only! Don't do this to me!"
It was pointless pleading. She gave him a sweet smile at the very end and put her hand to his chest, over his heart, rubbing in soothing circles. And then it fell away, and her body went limp as her eyes glazed over.
Ardyn gave a triumphant yell, Ignis felt a splash of warm blood slam into him, and Noct's severed head rolled past Ignis, coming to a jerking halt against the bookcase. Ignis stared in horror at his beheaded King.
"And that's two!" Ardyn cried gleefully. "So ends the line of the blood royal!"
And that was the moment Ignis woke up with a prolonged cry. As he came to, he sat up quickly, hitting something with his arm as he flailed, nearly leaping off the bed altogether in agitation.
He heard words…"Ignis, it's okay…"And then hands—hands that startled him at first as they pulled at his arm and opposite shoulder, then fighting with him as he attempted to escape them. He struck out again, and found out at once that the enemy pulling at him was not an enemy at all, but his Only Light, trying desperately to soothe him. The rubbing hand in his dreams had indeed been her own, trying to wake him gently. Now that little hand rubbed her own chest where the backward drive of his fist had fallen, tossing her back against the headboard.
Ignis whirled as he suddenly realized his error. "Leya! Leya! My Girl…Is that you?!" He instantly was near her, quite nearly dragging her into his grasp. "Did I hurt you?" His hand fell over that wounded breast in concern.
She was in equal concern. "Iggy, are you okay?" She tried to hug him towards herself to soothe him out of his nightmare.
He fought her affection as he continued to evaluate what he supposed must be a massive bruise, or even a jolt to her heart. He paused in dumbfounded silence for a moment, trying to determine if he was in reality at all, or if it was a morbid shift in the nightmare where he had killed her with his own hands. His heart stuttered like a car trying to travel uphill on the last few drops of gasoline. He patted at her face, moved his hand down her side to come to terms with the fact that she was real, and then fell back over her heart again. "Leya! Are you badly hurt?!"
"I'm fine, Iggy. Fine."
He sat for a few moments in stunned silence, feeling her heart beat steadily under his hand, feeling her breath on his skin. And suddenly he drew her to him, clutching her tightly. "Oh, My Girl," his voice broke, threatening a sob. "Oh, I thought….I thought you were…!"
She waited a few minutes, until his breath slowed, until his head stopped swaying side to side in dismay. She slid his damp bangs aside to kiss his sweaty forehead. "It's okay, Ignis. It was a nightmare. It's over now."
He pulled away, his face registering pain and dismay. "No…" he stated mournfully. He was unsure of how to proceed, and simply clung to her. That went on for some time, before he could tell her that in his dream, he had lost them both.
"Me and Caela?" She had guessed.
"Noct. You and-Noct," he answered, with a sense of some guilt that his daughter hadn't made an appearance in his dream...though he probably would have died in his sleep if she had. He almost had without her making a debut.
Of course, Aleya understood. She of all people understood the significance of losing Noct. She had well known of their relationship, more familial than subservient.
Ignis remembered the moments he had interacted with Noctis: How he allowed himself to be dragged into any petty mischief Noctis had schemed just for the sake of protecting and pleasing him; How after Noctis' attack by the Marilith he had stayed awake pacing for three days straight in concern, until he finally fainted from fatigue and had to be looked after by a nurse; How he tirelessly worked to perfect the desert Noctis had loved in Tenebrae when he returned, simply because the boy had been through so much trauma that he would have given nearly anything to ease him of his suffering and alight his face with joy again. He remembered turning into the older, stiff, straight-backed brother that rolled Noctis' eyes and raised his ire; Keeping his younger charge in adequate step, without losing sight of who was actually entitled to order the other one about. If he angered Noct, he would apologize for acting 'out of turn', and he sincerely meant it. He well knew that the younger far outweighed the older. When Noct was pleased, Ignis slept soundly. When he was displeased, Ignis would fret. And though he honestly sought to render a diligent account of his services to His Majesty and look after His Highness, he was keenly aware that Noct revered him in a way—they had a special sort of relationship that the other two could never quite match. Neither Prompto nor Gladio—no matter how much Noct loved them—quite reached the same sense of family as Ignis and Noctis had with the other. They were closer than blood.
Aleya had once mentioned in passing that it seemed Noct would unknowingly mirror Ignis' mannerisms in a way—that was reverence, which Ignis felt was undeservingly bestowed. He was a stalwart, and the more impressionable younger tended to mimic what was observed. And besides, they had been together throughout the thick of their lives, spending more time together than apart. It was only natural that they would adapt to the other's habits. Though, if Ignis were perfectly honest, he wished Noct's worldliness and sense of humor would have been better bestowed upon himself, and he would have gladly traded him with his burdensome sense of responsibility. Ah, but after the fall of Insomnia, how quickly he drifted and fell into Noctis' reckless abandon! Not that he would ever admit it to anyone else, of course.
Simply put, there was a bond between he and Noct that was truly unique. The bond was different than the one he had with Aleya, of course, in so many ways. But it made no difference—the only rival that could possibly threaten Noctis' station in Ignis' life was the kind and gentle creature allowing herself to be smothered in his distress.
As if she read his mind, she pulled away gently and smoothed his hair. "Was it very bad?" She asked him softly.
Sadly, they had grown used to waking to each other's nightmares, though admittedly it had been a long time since either of them had one.
He swallowed hard, feeling the blood leave his face. He felt cold rush down his body, and he gave a short shudder. That gaping hole through her heart! That blood…And how he saw Noct's head depart from his body, watched the torso and limbs fall as the head rushed towards him…. "If only I had been blind…" He began with a sense of irony, but his voice wouldn't continue the sentence.
"Oh, my Iggy," She whispered, taking him back in another embrace. "I'm so sorry! It's okay, now. Don't worry. Everything is fine now."
He put a hesitant hand to her spine, still groping feebly to make sure she was fully intact. "No," he whispered back in defeat. "It isn't. It can't be. Not while…" But he couldn't continue, and she didn't require him to say anything else.
They sat for a long time together, clinging to each other—one from grief, and one for comfort—until he heard a soft cry from the back room for 'daddy'. He moved away from Aleya, still trembling. When she told him she would go instead, he firmly willed her to stay, and told her he would be back quickly.
He fulfilled his promise, coming back at astounding speed, a little girl under each arm. He deposited both sleepy bundles into the bed. It was as if he couldn't sleep without all that was near and dear to him safely in reach. He and Aleya, of course, were now separated, as the two little ones divided them, and the bed had become quite uncomfortable and crowded. He knew this; He knew Aleya was nearly asleep again, but he suddenly rolled over and reached across the girls, gripping her arm as if she had started to tumble out of the window that she was crammed against.
In her gentleness of covering his hand with her own, and whispering of her love, he could have never known her wide-eyed look of dismay. She took in his sightless eyes, staring her direction. She gazed at the dark gray scars of cruelty over his left eye, and the right wide open with the quite literal shadow of the dazzling emerald they used to be. They were unblinking. His jaw tensed and eased, as if he were biting on his back teeth in his state of anxiety. The Ignis that had gone to sleep with a sweet contented smile now kept vigil in his state of reborn paranoia. "Lover," she whispered softly, nearly fearfully, "Try to get some sleep."
He made no reply. He simply squeezed her arm in assurance, but that expression never did change. Aleya feared he was once again slipping into the man that had been consumed with fear of loss and failure, despair at his inadequacy to protect those he treasured, angry at the world that had cost him so much, and could perhaps cost so much more. And so, in her compassion and concern, she couldn't sleep either. She simply stared, monitoring him through the long night. And by the time both of them had closed their eyes, Lestallum was beginning to stir awake.
Somehow, Ignis gave her the slip. Though she swore they fell asleep at the same time, and had woken up almost in tandem, she awoke to find him gone from the house altogether. The little ones had piled upon her in earnest, demanding pancakes. She looked at the low wooden ceiling and asked Shiva if one more hour would have done the world so much harm.
This was her life. Single, she had woken in her own bed in her own routine. Married for a short time without children, Ignis would let her sleep in. Now that she was a mother, she always woke to a demand of her time and attention. Some days she wondered how she managed not to put sugar in the coffee pot, or not fall on her face with flourish once her feet hit the floor. Today was no exception. She genuinely meant to appease the request for pancakes, but she found herself standing in the coolness of the open refrigerator, staring in overwhelmed bewilderment at the mountain of Ignis' ingredients. Therefore, pancakes turned to cereal. And when she was nearly in tears for want of caffeine, Gladio strolled in.
She refrained herself from kissing him in relief. He probably wouldn't have minded, but Ignis certainly would have. Instead, she decided to look for Mr. Scientia. She managed to fall into some clothes that she couldn't tell whether they matched or not. She grabbed two mugs of coffee and stumbled down the back fire-escape stairs, nearly spilling half of the caffeine on her way.
She found him where she thought she might—at the bench next to the waterfall, near the inn. He had always found the sound and the occasional spritz of mist from the water to be soothing. Though Lestallum was the most crowded place on Eos, this area generally seemed to be quiet at the start of a new dark day.
He scolded her for coming to find him when she should be resting, which she promptly ignored. And after handing him his mug of something-worth-living-for, she nestled into his offered arm. They sat quietly for a while, sipping at their respective mugs, until suddenly Ignis announced he was going to Angelgard.
"Angelgard?" She questioned. "What for?"
"I've been thinking that I've spent all this time plotting the timeline and events of Noctis' return, training myself to fight by his side. And yet, I know so little regarding our enemy."
Her head bobbed sharply for a moment, as if she had fallen asleep for a split second and caught herself. He noticed it, but she continued as if nothing had happened. "Is this about last night?"
"I'd be lying if I said it didn't have some part to play in it. I'd never let any harm come to you, My Girl." He brushed her cheek briefly with his thumb in the passing comment. "However, I feel it best serves all interests involved, including Noct's. For how many times on our journey did he count on me to explain every foul creature we encountered? Shouldn't I be able to do so for his gravest nemesis?"
"You think you can find what you're looking for there?"
"I think the monster they called Adagium was kept locked away there, and that it may be the best place to start. Also, the clues we've encountered along our way I feel are no mere stroke of fortune. I find it far too convenient to encounter scrolls and tablets upon every relic we explore, when I know full well that I don't recall laying my eyes upon them before that fateful night in Gralea."
She put her head in the crook of his neck, more to keep the world from spinning than from affection. "I'm not sure I understand. Do you think he's leading us along? Then why would you go there?"
"Not necessarily him. It could be any number of possibilities: The Oracle—who I'm told still operates past her demise, presumably in The Beyond; It could be Noctis within the confines of the Crystal; The Gods or Kings of Yore themselves, aiding us on our mission to fulfill prophecy. Though I certainly won't discount the possibility of his aiding us along. He's been known to cast a lure and patiently reel us in to his trap."
"It's dangerous, isn't it? Angelgard? Isn't there some sort of rite or something? The stories say many men have died trying to approach it."
At this, Ignis' old flare of self-assurance reasserted itself. He let out an amused grunt. "If a Glaive can pass that test and camp out on the premises, I'm sure I'll have no difficulty."
"I should go with you," she stated unhesitatingly, sitting up quickly. "You'll need someone to…"
He cut her off with a firm tone of voice. "Do you think for even one moment I'd allow you to go to such a dangerous place? Besides, you're tired."
"You always say that."
"Because you always are."
She shook her head. "A day's rest is all I need! Maybe two…"
"No."
She sighed. "I thought we were partners."
"We are. You manage the shop while I check abroad."
"But you'll need someone to go with you."
"I'll take Prompto, as usual. He'll have the camera, and when we return, you can take over to your heart's content. You'll stay here with Gladio. He'll offer some protection to you, and besides, he needs to spend some time with his own daughter." He paused for a moment. "Sleeping elsewhere, of course. And do keep the flirting to the barest minimum while I'm away."
She had, at first, wanted to object to needing Gladio's protection. Then, she intended to tell Ignis that Emerie was becoming fond of him as a surrogate father, and how adorable it was that he now almost fully believed her to be his own. But both flew out of her mind with the last reminder he gave her. "Don't say that! Why do you keep saying that? I don't flirt! I never flirted! When have I ever…?"
He chuckled. "Calm yourself, dearest."
"Don't tell me to calm down!" She fussed.
His chuckle rolled into a rich, deep and smooth laugh as he took her under his arm again. "And why are you here arguing with me, Mrs. Scientia, when you know you should be sleeping off the cruel insomnia your husband inflicted upon you?"
"By now you should now. I'd follow you anywhere."
Ignis went quiet, and she could tell she had hit that delicate spot in his breast. He tilted his head softly in thought. "I know," he murmured, "and I'm ever so grateful. What would I be without your constant attendance?"
"Less anxious?" She whispered back, as if sharing a playful secret. "More free?" And she grinned at her own cleverness.
"Ah, but freedom and independence are somewhat overrated, and the pain of anxiety is quickly replaced with the sweetest of rewards. Therefore, the benefits outweigh the drawbacks."
She put her hand in his, routing back to the subject at hand. "Please. Let me help you this time."
"You are helping me, Aleya. Believe me. Remember what I said to you at our Little Slice of Haven…You are my constant. I couldn't undertake any of this without you. And I cannot overemphasize the importance of my request of you staying safely here. You are…" He paused, trying to figure out how to make her understand without spilling the secret as to why she was so valuable—to him, and to Ardyn, if he only knew it. "…tremendously important. To me, to Noct, to the new world we will be building."
"As your wife? Your assistant?"
No, she still didn't understand. She couldn't possibly. "As more than you can fathom."
A slow smile spread over her features and she fell into teasing him again. "That's right. I'm supposed to be the Lucian Ambassador." She leaned in, nudging at him with her nose.
Maybe she never flirted with Gladio, but she flirted with Ignis, and often. He rather enjoyed it. He found himself smiling back. "A part you were born to play, My Princess."
She raised her eyebrows. "That again?"
Merriment mingled with secrecy, and she could swear she could see that familiar sparkle come back to the shade over his lenses. When Ignis had moments of devilish glee, it always took her by surprise. Before he started dating her, he was always so stoic and serious. Even dating, he took it with a bit of determination and gravity that most men wouldn't have. But since they had been married, he often quipped back like a man who was still trying to unwind the secrets stowed in the woman of his affections, and pry them from her by giving her one flushed giggle at a time.
But as quickly as it had come, the moment faded just as swiftly. He swallowed hard, and his expression changed to that of hardened desperation. His mood was dark, brooding, anxious, and needy. "Come with me," he told her, pulling her to her feet.
She scrambled for the coffee mugs they nearly abandoned on the bench. "Where are we going?"
"We won't be meeting for a while. How about a proper date over breakfast?"
"I'm afraid there's cold cereal on the menu."
"Not at Beanmine." And they walked off hand-in-hand.
[Direct Journal Entry]:
17th of October, M.E. 762
I must admit I'm not in the best of moods. Leya could sense it immediately. I could tell she was desperately trying to pry the girls off of me when I walked in the door. Though, I didn't mind that part. I actually rather enjoyed their little limbs round my legs. I suppose she just could tell I was in a foul mood and not inclined to entertain children. She's quite insightful, most of the time.
The truth is that the trek to Angelgard was pointless. I found not one clue, not a relic, a scrap, a proclamation to the prisoner that was put there…nothing.
I might not have been so put out if I had any idea of where to look next. But I've been to every site I can think of, sometimes multiple times, over the past six years. I'm sure there may be some I'm overlooking, but it's only because there are no records of them, anywhere. I'm sure if we were to dig up the whole scope of Eos we might find a buried tomb, somewhere. Perhaps if we took a submersible about the whole bottom of the ocean we might find an ancient city or two. But honestly, we haven't that amount of time, and I've already lost two weeks on chasing a clue I thought to exist. I can't imagine how long it would take for me to chase one that we don't know of.
And why did it take two weeks? Ebony has been missing for several months. I honestly am becoming concerned that something may have happened to her…
I suppose in the grand scheme of matters, that is of little import. I'm just glad to be home.
It's hard not to relax with a hot meal and two little bundles of pure delight snoring on each arm. Leya's sweet tolerance didn't hurt, either. Only Ramuh knows what I would ever do without it.
19th of October, M.E. 762
"And how have you truly been, dear?" Ignis asked, feeling sleep begin to set upon him; Filtering into his pores like the steam from an enormously blissful shower.
They had been talking for a while, cuddled up together in their room. The days had grown colder as of late, and even in such close proximity to the plant, there was a decided chill in the air. The warmth of the sun was so long gone the whole planet seemed to submit to Shiva's exhalations. It was their habit, even on less romantic evenings, to huddle together—more for her sake than his. He had his own internal temperature regulator. She simply made good use of it. Sometimes it was good to be divine.
"Right as rain." She yawned and moved in with a slight wiggle, cozily cuddled up to her personal radiator.
He smiled softly. Yes, sleep was definitely setting in. It pulled at his eyelids, and prolonged his breath. "I've missed you," he murmured again. "To think I could have stayed here the whole while, for all the good I accomplished. I'm so disgusted with that island." He yawned as well, and decided to yield to sleep. "It can sink in the water and be totally forgotten, as far as I'm concerned."
And with that, the room drifted away from him. He lost awareness at the body pinned to his side. Even the soft surface behind his head and shoulders vanished. He began to see shapes in the dark as his thoughts began to change into the first stages of dreaming.
And then suddenly, Aleya sat bolt upright. "Water!"
Ignis snapped awake, a slight jolt running through his body like someone had pulled a recoil cord to start his heart to sputtering power. "Leya?" He asked, confused, reaching instinctively for her. "Are you alright?"
"Water!" She exclaimed again, and laughed out loud. She turned and slapped Ignis three times on his bare stomach in her excitement.
He was now sitting up, rubbing his stomach with an expression somewhere between confusion and offense. "What are you going on about?"
She laughed out loud again. "How funny! 'Forgotten Pool'! Well, I guess we really did forget it!"
He sighed with impatience, still rubbing his stomach. It didn't hurt, of course. He rubbed merely due to astonishment. He couldn't imagine what had gotten into her.
She suddenly remembered how cold she was. She shivered and dove back under his arm, throwing the blankets back up over their shoulders. "Remember when we were dating and we camped at Oathe Haven?"
He thought for a moment, and an expression of realization intermingled with slyness and satisfaction crossed his face. "Ah. Yes. I remember. We very nearly broke your precious rules that evening."
"You would remember that part!" She complained, flushing a bit.
"And you called me 'sexy', I believe."
"I scared you so bad I thought we would have to give you stitches after you skewered your finger with that needle."
He grinned at her and playfully tried to kiss her.
She pushed away from him. "Gods, help me!" She complained with a chuckle. She ducked again. "Stop that! I'm trying to tell you something!"
"Then tell me."
"I remember I asked you what the glowing towers were in the pool and if they were part of Costlemark, remember?"
"I do." The fun over, he pulled her back down to rest again, fixing the blankets over her shoulders.
"Well, Iggy," she replied from her position on his chest, "It's the only place I can think of that we might not have seen, yet. What if it was a part of that tower we couldn't reach? We wouldn't have seen it yet, right? I mean, none of Costlemark was bogged in water, that I remember."
He stilled, and tilted his head slightly with consideration. If he had been sighted still, his eyes would have been drifting to the upper corner of the room as he thought. She could practically hear the wheels turning in his mind. Finally, he smiled. "How fantastic you are! And you ask why I wanted you…"
"Is it a good idea?" She eagerly asked. She was suddenly a little girl begging for his approval, or a servant waiting for her master to pat her on the head with affection.
He rolled to his side and snugged her up to his chest. "Brilliant," he told her, a thrilling edge to his tone. She had indeed impressed him, and nothing could stoke him faster than her intellect. He went in again for another display of affection, but she interrupted him.
"Of course, I'll have to go with you."
That craving look crumbled away, becoming startled and stern. "Absolutely not!"
"Why not? I used to travel with you all the time!"
"It's dangerous! I refuse to have this conversation with you again."
"It was dangerous back then, too."
Ignis rolled again to his back in frustration, removing his arm from under her neck. "Things are different now; You know that! You are the…"
"…The mother of your child; Yes I know. I suppose I didn't become indispensable until it benefited her."
He froze as if cold water had been flung in his face, and he appeared to be shocked and somewhat trepid. She had said it with such a flippant and bitter sarcasm, as she had before the Behemoth incident, when their relationship became a bit rocky. He had thought them past such absurd notions by now. He thought after clarifying things with her so well at the Haven, she would be past all those concerns. Now, she again brought up the supposition of being unloved and only useful on occasion. He sat up, appearing pained. "Leya…of—of course not…"
She regretted it immediately. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. Forgive me." She paused, noting he had turned a bit bewildered, but the worry was still there. She knew he was going over every mental file, every word, letter, syllable, tone, he had spoken to her since the retreat to Havenrock, trying to formulate how they had arrived at this old battle again. "Ignis. Please don't. I'm sorry. It's my fault; Picking at an old scab. Just-can't I help you with this one thing?"
He thought for a few moments, and replied slowly and carefully. "At the risk of unsettling you," and it was clear he thought perhaps she'd stab at him again if he didn't word it correctly, "I must tell you that while I would love you with me, we have Caela and Emerie to think about. Were we both to fail or fall—would our daughter be an orphan? We both know how that feels, do we not?"
The point sunk home, and she weighed it for a moment with serious thought. "But, Ignis," she finally replied. "Who else are you going to ask? It's underwater. Prompto can't take his camera, and even if he could, he's not the best swimmer. Neither is Gladio, but he'll also be on a three-day leave starting tomorrow, and needs to spend the time with Emerie. Also, neither of them can read Solheiman."
"Gladio knows a few phrases."
She sighed. "Igs, please…."
"Talcott actually knows it a great deal."
"But he's not an expert, and he's a kid! Can he even swim? Face it, Igs. You need someone who can swim and dive easily, and hold their breath for extended periods of time. You need someone who can read and translate from Solheim. I'm your best candidate."
He looked deflated. Of course she made perfect sense. Not only was she the best candidate, she was the only logical one. He squeezed her fingers with a shake of his head. "You don't grasp the gamble I'd be taking. The stakes are far too high. You're safer here. Besides, I don't feel I can suffer another loss this side of dawn."
"It's not something anybody can stop were it to happen, not even you. Being here doesn't guarantee my safety, anyway."
He suppressed a shudder, remembering when Ardyn had attacked her within the confines of Lestallum. How well he knew! Still, his mind raced for alternatives. Though Aleya had an adventurous spirit and wanted a task beyond babysitter and secretary, he knew she wouldn't object if he could find a viable alternative. But alas, there were none that he knew of.
"Besides, I'm not too shabby on the battlefield myself."
He snapped his attention to her sternly. "I don't want you fighting!" He ordered her. "If there is danger, you will find cover immediately and let me handle the situation!"
She watched him carefully, breaking into a grin. "Is that a yes?" He frowned, and she tweaked the bridge of his nose between her thumb and forefinger—an age-old affectionate display of hers. "For Noct?"
For Noct. Of course he would do anything for Noct. He just didn't like throwing the blood of his heart in harm's way to do it. Still, as Shiva had said, he must protect both. By bringing Aleya along, he was protecting Noct. And while she was at his side, he would protect her as well, else die trying. He sighed. "I suppose I have no choice."
"I feel so welcome."
He didn't respond. He looked as if he were getting nauseated.
Aleya moved in, kissed his injured eye, and embraced him. "It'll be alright. You'll see."
Ironic words to a blind man.
21st of October, M.E. 762
Ignis paced anxiously back and forth across the short strip of the dock. Occasionally he grew tired of the sound of his heels on rotted wood, and he would tromp back and forth over the muddy bank of the lake instead. His ears were always tuned to the water. He listened for any break in the still water, to know Aleya had once more surfaced without drowning herself. He fidgeted; sheathing and unsheathing the dagger on his shoulder strap, twisting at the leather on his belt, fastening and unfastening the top snap of his vest. He cursed the melody of the frogs and crickets in the air, who had never seemed troubled by the lack of daylight. Their noise, he worried, would impede any sound he needed to hear in the water. It never did, of course. And yet, he still paced. He tried to calm himself by remembering his wife was an excellent swimmer and could hold her breath for an ungodly amount of time. Then, he worried himself again over snakes and trailing, tangling weeds, and every sort of other danger people rarely fell into. He counted off the minutes in his mind. And when he was about to go mad and had decided to jump in after her, she surfaced. This ritual occurred over and over, and over again, as they had indeed found an abundance of information. It was taking her some time to memorize as many lines as possible, in order to surface and report. She would then dive back down for more. Ignis' job was to maintain vigilance for any danger, and take down notes as she made her report.
He was currently in his standard state of pacing, about to bend the pen he held in half between his finger and thumb, when he heard a slight bubble. Aleya surfaced with a short gasp for air. "Leya!" He knelt on the edge of the pier. "You were down there much longer this time!"
"Sorry." Her voice sounded thick, as if she had come down with some sort of cold—it was the water in her nose, no doubt. "One of the panels was damaged and two words lost. I was searching the floor for the missing pieces." She gave an involuntary shiver.
"Did you find them?" He beckoned with his hand for her to come in.
"No. We'll have to figure it out ourselves." Her teeth chattered involuntarily.
He sighed. "Fine. Let's call it a day. We'll regard our notes over the campfire."
"But I only have a few lines left. We can finish this right now."
"Leya—I'm afraid you'll exhaust yourself. You've been at this for gods-know-how-long. It's too much, even for you."
"But I'm so close! We're so close, Igs. It will probably only take this one last dive."
He shook his head firmly. "I'm not gambling with your life or your health. Come here to me."
She sighed loudly. "Do you even want to hear what I found?"
His face turned embarrassed. In all the fluster, he had forgotten entirely to ask her what she had found. Each time she surfaced, she told him immediately before there was any chance of forgetting, so that he could jot the notes. "Oh yes, of course." He poised his pen over the notebook.
She began spilling out the ancient prose—some words Ignis immediately could decipher and others he would have to roll over in his mind for hours before he could remember the definitions. Translation was her forte, and even she didn't bother trying to translate, now. The Solheimian utterances rolled off of her tongue in a breathy, natural way. Once she was done, Ignis stretched out his hand again. "Come in. Now."
"I'll be right back."
"Leya, no!" He demanded, but it was no use. She slipped under the water and was gone.
He fumed, more for her carelessness than her willfulness. He had heard no trace of excitement or merriment in her last few resurfacings. To the contrary, she seemed more and more lethargic, and eager to get the task done. She was exhausted. She knew it as well as he. He couldn't even imagine swimming and diving for nearly twelve hours straight. Indeed, it had been twelve long, torturous hours where the last dive was more dangerous than the first. After all, she was only mortal. Eventually her limbs would no longer move, and the lack of oxygen would take its toll.
He resumed his pacing, fretting the whole while, until she managed to resurface in what seemed a much shorter gap of time. He spun to her angrily. "You're bloody lucky I love you so much!"
She didn't bother to respond to his irate outburst. "Just write this down, please," she said in a voice that sounded a shade of pale. She panted softly as she moved slowly towards the bank, gasping out long sentences in an otherworldy accent. "…Et sempiternusal rutilansi." she finished, as she crawled up onto the muddy bank next to his position.
"Sempiternusal with an I or an E?" He questioned as she splatted nearly face-down into the muck.
"'I'." She replied, weakly. "Can you—help me up, please?"
"Oh, certainly!" He tucked the notebook and pen into his vest and turned to her hurriedly. He took her outstretched hands, helping her crawl over to the pier. It seemed to him he had to pull quite hard, as she didn't have much strength left to move of her own accord.
Once safely beside him, she collapsed her head against him, nearly knocking him off of his haunches. "Gods, I'm exhausted."
"I said you would be."
"Last time I swam that much, I was twenty years younger."
He patted her back comfortingly. "A hot meal and a good night's sleep, and you'll be right as rain. Shall we go?"
She shook her head against him. "Let's just camp here." Her voice sounded in a whine alarmingly akin to Prompto's antics.
"Here? In the open? No campfire? No blankets?" He considered for a moment when she wouldn't budge. "No coffee?"
"Ugh." She pulled away slowly. "I guess if there's coffee…"
He hadn't known her to be so physically spent since Ravatogh…or childbirth. He helped her to her feet and wrapped an arm around her waist tightly, gripping her belt in case she stumbled. "Don't worry, My Girl. I've got you." And with that, they made their way gingerly to Havenrock.
Sometime during the 'night', Aleya woke up with a start. Her very first thought—even before she was fully awake—was how painfully cold she was. Her skin felt of ice; So cold that Ignis' warm hand on her arm burned as painfully as fire. She flinched away from him.
"Aleya! Are you alright?!"
Her teeth were chattering so hard she couldn't answer him. She felt as if her body had somehow become encased in ice, and her body shook in an involuntary ultrasonic method to shatter the glacier around her.
"Leya," He tore his jacket off and threw it over her. "I'm so sorry. You'll warm momentarily." And with that, he ignited his palms, holding them towards her.
Somehow, between the clashes and clattering of her own molars, she managed to speak. "What w-what ha-ha-happened…?"
"I'm afraid I've been visited by the divine, again."
Her brow furrowed in confusion. She sat up and hugged her knees to herself. "What?"
"While you were sleeping. I had no warning."
"D—d—divine?" She squinted at him through one ice-flecked eyelid. "Put that out." She said, nodding to his hands.
Confused, he did so. She abruptly shoved her body against his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her tightly. She did indeed feel like a block of ice against him. He remembered the suffering he himself experienced of the Glacian's icy blast. He remembered how pulling himself to his own feet felt like breaking through marble, and how every nerve in his body burned and stabbed mercilessly for hours afterwards. He remembered full well. Which was perhaps why he risked raising his voice to the divine when she meted out the same treatment to his beloved. Not that it made any difference, of course. She had done it to ensure that her presence was only revealed to Ignis, so they could speak of shared secrets without Aleya overhearing.
"My Girl. I'm so sorry." He reached behind her and gathered the blanket she had been sleeping on, throwing it over her. He even covered her head. After ensuring it was tucked under her chin, around her shoulders and hips, doubled upon her breast, he again clutched her to himself. "I know how you feel. I would have spared you if I could."
She shivered again, nuzzling her ice-cold nose into his throat. "What—what did—what did she—want?"
"I'm not certain I can explain. Or rather, if I should explain. It's something I must bear alone. A secret I alone must keep."
Her lower lip quivered; her jaw continued to rattle. "S-so…you don't want—to tell me?"
He shook his head. "I don't wish to burden you any further."
"S—s—so…you're going—to keep—to keep it to—yourself?"
Sensing she was warming, but still freezing, he tapped into his power. His body gave off the warmth comparable to an electric blanket. She clutched at him, pulling him closer. He adjusted his position to wrap her up even more tightly, covering as much of her as he could with his own torso and limbs. "Yes. I'll keep it to myself, if I must."
She tried to make a joke, but Ignis had always had difficulty discerning sarcasm from true inquiry. "You're not terminally ill, are you?"
"Of course not." But his voice sounded grave, serious.
She paused. "It's not Caela, is it?"
He drew a sharp breath, as if the very idea were repugnant to him. "I should hope not!"
"So I suppose it's something wrong with me?"
He attempted a chuckle, but it fell flat. "Is there?"
She was hit with another wave of shivers. She didn't respond for a moment as she squirmed in an attempt to get more heat.
"Leya!" He pulled her away for a moment. His expression was dismayed. "Is there?"
"Not—that I'm aware of." She pulled him back in, as if it meant her very life.
He frowned. He wasn't sure if he was always paranoid or if she just had a habit of making him nervous.
"What about Noct? Is there something wrong with Noct?"
A pause.
"Ignis?"
Nothing.
"Ignis! What's wrong with Noct?"
"Leya." He moved away slowly and brushed her hair away from her face. "It's my burden, and mine alone."
She gave him a slight shove. "What do you mean? If it has to do with Noct, I'm not going to sleep a wink until you tell me. Something so important as Noct you can't keep to yourself."
"I have for this long."
"Ignis!" She frowned at him. 'This long'? What did that even mean? How long had he been keeping secrets about Noct's welfare? "Let me in on it."
"I—I can't. You don't understand…"
"Then make me. Make me understand."
He paused, and it seemed to Leya that he was looking right at her. And in the light of the campfire, she could tell that his eyes had changed—not entirely, but a bit. Some of the haze was gone. She could have sworn she saw that fancy shade of emerald flashing at her again in the moonlight.
Tired of waiting, she moved to sit on her knees in front of him. "Aren't I your wife?"
"Of course you are."
"Your friend? Your confidant? Your helper?" To each, Ignis voiced an increasingly irritated affirmative. "Your partner? Your lover?"
Ignis paused at the last one. It was hard to read his expression—somewhere amidst confusion, gratitude, and a bit of longing, she assumed. And overlaying all of it was the soft and gentle smile that pulled at his lower lip. "Yes."
"We share everything. We've been through hell together, haven't we? We share our problems, our anger, our sadness, our victories, our happiness, and even our bodies…Can't you share this with me, too?"
"But—you've been through so much, and I—"
"So have you. Let me help. Unless you're saying you don't need me again."
"Again?" Ignis answered, sharp and irritated. "Aleya!" He stood and walked to the edge of Havenrock in a bit of a huff, putting his hands on his hips. Every time he thought he had her wrangled out of that state of mind, it crept back up to the surface. He was beginning to realize it was going to be a life-long thorn in their marital bliss.
He wasn't alone for hardly a moment, for she had chased him to his location, and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her face between his shoulder blades. "Tell me."
"Noct…" He paused and sighed, his face moving up as if he were surveying the moon. "Noct—we may be unable to save him. He could very well die."
"That's negative thinking."
"No." He turned and took her hand. "It's the truth. I've seen it."
She watched his face closely. "What do you mean?" She asked, a little fear creeping into her voice.
Ignis told her all. He told her of the vision at the altar. He told of her of the things he had seen: He had known even before donning the ring of Noct's fate, and his own blindness. He had been fighting with all hope, he told her, that those visions were only possibilities—or even probabilities—and not exacting fate. He dared not tell her of her heritage, but did inform her that the Glacian, on this very evening, had descended and spoke to him of variations within dimensions.
"Dimensions?" She frowned. "Like different time lines?"
"I suppose. She speaks of alternate realities—one in which I do not exist, or you do not exist, or of our never meeting. There is one in which the Oracle survived the altar. There's one in which Noct was born not as a son, but as a daughter, and his mother was Sylva Via Fleuret. He and Luna were siblings. There are variations where the Scientia line does not exist, or where I do not serve. There are variations where Galahd was never built, and others whereupon it sits as Capital—the Crown City herself."
She stared at him with her eyebrows slightly furrowed and clenched, as if she were trying to decipher a difficult math problem. Instead, she was merely trying to wrap her mind around all that he was telling her. It wasn't that she didn't understand, or that she couldn't believe. She just had a hard time imagining such instances; As did he. After all, the only world they had ever known was their own.
"There are choices we make every day, every hour…every second, that splinters the timeline in two. And with all the millions upon millions of people making millions upon millions of choices throughout history, who can even imagine how many are floating about—" He waved the back of his hand with a slight flourish. "—Somewhere out there. The Beyond…the Beyond is apparently where all converge. It is how Ardyn stays immortal; fueled by both the blight of the starscourge, and tapping into numerous forms and resurrections; Reincarnations of his own wicked self. It is why Noct must defeat him in this world as well as the Beyond; To prevent the recycle."
"I understand." She wasn't shivering anymore. "What does that mean for us?"
"It means there is still a chance. Perhaps I've only to step left instead of right, to use my spear instead of my dagger, to find the right tome or the right tablet..."
"Ignis, you could go crazy thinking like that. You'd second-guess everything you ever did or said."
"No. Ultimately, Noct will do as he chooses, and we've only to support him to the best of our ability. However, there is hope. Perhaps we can find that something—that one thing—that could spare him."
She fell silent, and Ignis couldn't tell what she was thinking. He supposed she was tumbling over all the information and possibilities in her mind, just as he had when he was told. "And the Goddess Shiva just thought it was a good idea to tell you?"
"I imagine she's at her own ends, though I've not yet interpreted them. Though, I won't complain. There are many benefits. For example…" He took her shoulders gently and moved his eyes to meet hers. "Every time I meet her, I gain a bit of my vision."
She gasped slightly. "You can see?"
"Extremely slight, but…yes."
She let out a slight squeal and clapped his face between her hands in amazement. "Ignis, can you see me?"
"I can see a haze of color. Very little else."
She held up her hand. "How many fingers do you see?"
He squinted. "I wouldn't call them fingers. I'd call them stalks of flesh."
"How many?"
"Two."
She clutched his shirt in a tight fist as she tried again. "Now?"
"Four—I think."
She began trembling violently, but now it wasn't from the cold. "Now?"
"One. And your thumb."
"Ignis!" She threw her arms around him and smothered him momentarily in exuberant kisses, most of them landing on his brows and eyelids. "Your eyes! Oh, your—your beautiful, beautiful eyes! You can see!"
"Only a bit," he qualified around her flurry of affection. "It's all, as I said, a blur; As if someone threw a wash of watercolor on a black canvas. It's all abstract, and hazy."
She drew away from him, shaking her head. He could see a flash of white where her mouth would be—she was smiling. "But it is color! First a shadow, then light, now color! Ignis, your eyes are healing!" She kissed at him again. "Oh, Shiva! Thank you, thank you! Ignis—you're amazing! My Ignis! Mine, mine, mine!" And she hopped up and down with delight.
He chuckled. She was acting like a giddy little girl. He found it beyond adorable.
"Even your scars are fading," she murmured, running a finger over his damaged eyelid. "And your eyes do seem greener. It's less of that shimmery gray."
"You said you liked the shimmery gray."
"I like you. Whether green or gray, I like you. I like your eyes."
"Would that I could see yours," he lamented. "Your eyes are still obscured from me, I'm afraid."
She pulled him down, closer to her face. "How about now? Can you see them, yet?" When he shook his head, she continued to pull him, inch by inch, asking all the while, until their noses were touching. "How about now?"
"You silly little girl," He laughed self-consciously. "What am I to do with you?"
"Surely now?" She persisted, tilting her head slightly to avoid his nose, continuing to gaze up into his eyes. He felt the slight brush of her lips against his.
For the first time in six torturous years, he could see a small circle of that blue cobalt surrounding a pool of black. Her eyes had always been the color of the first glimpse of a dusky sky. They were uniquely hers; He had never seen anyone with such a color. And between the elation of seeing her eyes, and the melting of her mouth against his, anyone would forgive him for shedding a tear.
She pulled away with a smile. "I knew it! I always knew it! Didn't I say you could do anything, Ignis? I always knew you'd pull off the impossible!" She was carried away, and laced her fingers in his, holding his hands slightly aloft, as she did those years ago by the campfire—when he made the startling discovery that he was madly in love with her. He paused, solemn, his sarcastic remark about the Glacian receiving her just due forgotten upon his lip. He simply stared at that beautiful shade of linen and honey that represented her face and hair. "You can save Noct, too. I know you can."
It couldn't be true. There couldn't possibly exist a dimension where this bright little light did not exist. His mouth met her forehead and he murmured against her skin. "Such faith."
She suddenly pulled at his arm, towards the campfire. "Come on! We don't have a second to waste! Let's wrap up these notes!"
He allowed himself to be led along, smiling pleasantly. For the first time since May 756-for the very first time-he thought it was truly possible that he could pull of the miracle of saving the Chosen King. And Aleya was assuredly correct: He was Ignis Scientia, and he could do absolutely anything.
