19th of December, M.E. 758

Ignis decided on the way back to Lestallum that he would spell out his intentions immediately upon arrival. After the conversation with Gladio, he had sufficient courage. He was determined to tell her how he felt before there were any more misunderstandings, quarrels, interruptions, or threats. No matter the mood she was in; No matter the consequences of his confession, he vowed to tell her. He had hesitated for far too long (years, he was embarrassed to admit to himself), and he would hesitate no longer.

He had no expectation of a favorable reply, for while Gladio assured him that her feelings were most likely mutual, he dared not rely on such hopes. He well knew her keen wit, and her prudence. She had always been hesitant to be seen together with him, even under the most innocent and professional of circumstances. She had told him years ago that if he ever settled down, he must settle down with a woman of his 'station', and Aleya had always thought of herself as lowly. Though, she surely knew he had had his chances at the upper crust of so-called 'society'! Zavia Lorche, the Senator's daughter, for example. Her father would have seen them wed in a heartbeat, love or not. And Zavia was breathtakingly beautiful and exotic, but she had never caught his eye. Indeed, she had been more of a repelling force. She might have been beautiful and powerful, but she was no Aleya Claren.

He was anxious to tell her, remembering every detail about her. Though he was blind, he could see her, plain as day. He now couldn't remember a time when he hadn't loved every single thing about her. He could see her smile, her hair, her fingers, her eyes; Everything he memorized. He knew the gestures she used, the way she fidgeted when anxious, the way she preferred the floor to a chair in the library. He remembered the way she dressed, ate, and even slept. He could recognize her voice, her step, her breath. He knew when she was angry, sad, embarrassed, delighted, or even confused. He knew how quickly her temper flared, and how even more quickly she forgave. She had counseled him more than he could recall, and stuck with him despite his own failings. She was no mere woman, his Aleya. In this bitterly dark night, Aleya was his only source of light and warmth. And he refused to lose her, to Alvor or anyone else.

He was determined he was going quite mad; That a man must be out of his mind to think he could love so much at once. He never thought he would ever fall in love with a woman, as duty required much of his time and attention. But Aleya had quite literally careened into his life, and he could no longer untangle himself from her.

So as the magitek engine gave a low thrum of descent, he squared his shoulders, preparing to march out and confront her with his confession.

"Holly, please. It's vastly important."

Holly threw a line of cable to one of the other women that walked by. The cable was most likely forty pounds if even an ounce, and she and her comrade handled it as if it were nothing. These women of Lestallum never failed to impress. "Gosh, Ignis, I'm not sure. Time runs together these days. Plus, the girls are always swapping shifts. I think Allie said she'd take care of the power blip at the eastern hunter's camp. She volunteers for practically everything."

He kept his annoyance tamped down. Not only did Aleya never learn that rest and meals were essential to life, that overexertion caused physical strain; He also knew Holly would never have volunteered to go outside the city gates with the world in such a state. He was sure she was quite content to hand the more dangerous jobs to her subordinates. "Yes, I know."

"She's something, that's for sure. She's become my right hand. She's smart as a whip, that one. Taught her in four months what takes most girls four years."

"She's somewhat known for her intelligence."

"Must be why she's been helping out the doc these days too, huh? And teaching that little Talcott kid? Gods, and I thought my schedule was busy! I wonder when she sleeps."

The more she talked, the more irritated and restless he felt. He didn't need to be constantly reminded of how hard she was working. It made him feel inept and inconsiderate. Perhaps if he had been here, she wouldn't be working herself to the point of misery. If she accepted him, he would have to find a way to discourage such a heavy work load in the future. "When is the truck scheduled to return?"

"She didn't take the truck. She took the tram. That's another thing! If I had flown off a tram car and got myself busted up like that with those things roaming around-You'd never catch me on another tram a day in my life. She's gutsy."

He ground his teeth together, beginning to feel the strain. The impatience was becoming unbearable. "Fine. When does the tram arrive?"

"I thought she was on the one that just came in, but I didn't see her. She should be back any time, now."

"If you see her before I have a chance to meet with her, might I ask you to relay a message? As I said, it's incredibly important."

A voice, familiar and sweet to his ears, sounded from behind him. "No need." He turned to her, pinpointing her exact location by surrounding sounds and the faint glow of her outline in his right eye. "I'm right here."

Her voice was taunt—a mix of fatigue and nerves, he supposed. "Leya."

She hesitated at the yearning euphony of his tone. "Y—you said it was important?"

"Indeed. Might we speak privately?"

"Boss?"

Ignis gave an instant smile. It had been quite some time since she used that affectionate address. He hoped it was a sign that their relationship was on the mend. He opened his mouth to reply, but Holly beat him to it.

"Ah, what the heck! I owe you both more than a few favors. It's fine with me."

Aleya voiced her thanks, and Ignis nursed his disappointment. So, she had been speaking to Holly, then…

It wasn't a brilliant start to his declaration, and it worked to unnerve him. As with the last dozen times he had worked up the fortitude to tell her how he felt, his resolve began to waver. Doubt and worry began to creep in, replacing all confidence.

She led him towards the steps leading down towards the old abandoned market, so they could have privacy to speak. A roll of thunder rumbled ominously in the near distance, and the wind picked up. He could smell water in the air. An evil omen, indeed.

"What is it?" She asked him. "What's wrong?"

Her voice was so sharp and impatient. She sounded as if she couldn't afford him time. He hesitated, the sweat trickling between his shoulder blades and down his back. Had he misunderstood Gladio? No, he had practically spelled it out in distinct syllables. Aleya cared for him-or at least she had at one time. Now, however, she acted as if he were imposing on her.

To his horror, he let out a strangled chuckle.

He could only imagine her disbelief. "What?" She asked.

"Oh, it's nothing. I was just musing on the fact that I've done battle with Red Giants, Behemoths, even the gods themselves. And yet it's now that I feel the most terror."

Her attitude instantly changed. She reached for his hands quickly. "Terror? What are you talking about? Has something happened with Noct?"

Of course she thought the only terror he could experience was related to Noct!That was the impression she had of him—that any emotion he felt at all must have to do with His Highness. Another wall to bar his path to admittance…However, he could feel the bracelet he bought her long ago brushing his fingers as it dangled from her wrist. It was an encouraging sign that she chose to still wear it. Maybe he still meant something to her, after all. "No." This was it. He squared his shoulders and raised his head. He naturally couldn't see her, but he imagined himself looking directly into her eyes. "Something objectively as important."

The thunder rolled again, louder this time. The storm would be coming upon them quickly.

She tugged at his hand. "Maybe we should go indoors. It's going to rain soon."

"No." He stiffened his legs, refusing to be led away.

"Ignis.."

"Traveling indoors takes time," he replied, impatiently. "It requires passing multiple people, scenarios, and circumstances. All such things create distractions, and misunderstandings, which I cannot afford. I need to say this to you now!"

Her hand fell away from his as her mood turned somber. "Alright. Say it."

"I…" What did he mean to say? By the astrals, he had rehearsed this over and over on the ride over, but now he couldn't remember a single word! How could he memorize four hundred flora and fauna, be fluent in three other languages, and chart and plan battle options based on a map he had only caught a glimpse of years before, but he couldn't remember something as simple as this? When perfection was so vastly important, why was it now suddenly so intangible?

She waited patiently as he panicked, and in the end, all he could remember was the item that had been burning a hole in his shirt pocket for over two years. He fumbled for it clumsily, and held it out to her. "This-this is yours." His awkwardness shamed him to no end.

She reached out and plucked the water-stone ring from his fingers. "It's beautiful!" She gasped, as she turned it over and over to examine it. "But it's not mine, Iggy. Where did you find it?"

"I didn't happen upon it," Ignis answered, in a hushed tone. "I purchased it in Altissia. For you."

There was a long, agonizing gap in the conversation before she replied. "I don't understand. When?"

There were definitely the cold patters of a light rain beginning to fall, but he didn't care. Time was short, and he couldn't fail, this time. "Over two years ago, before I lost my eyesight. Before we lost—everything else. Even Noct." No, no time to dwell on those things. No one could clearly see the future if they only looked backwards. "I saw it there, and I simply had to have it. We had seen Lady Lunafreya's dress on display, and as we went back whence we came, there is sat, on the vendor's cart. It was fate. The color attracted me first, as it looked remarkably like your eyes. And as I drew closer, I realized that the stone not only reflected light; it captured, absorbed, and redistributed it. It was glorious in its luminescence. Then, of course, there was the story the vendor told me, of Lady Aleystina weeping over the plight of her lover. Her tears are said to have formed such stones. It's said that all that wear them will be restored with joy and light, and will be reunited with those they love."

He had moved her. Even without being able to see her, he could tell. He knew her well enough to gauge her mood, whether he could see or not. "That's beautiful, Igs."

Ah, his nickname was back. That was progress, to be sure. Encouraged, he continued. "It seemed a perfect gift, for—" He paused for a moment and swallowed with difficulty. There was no turning back, now. "For you have always been my light, Aleya. And at that moment, there was nothing more I wanted than to be reunited with you."

She took a step backwards. Just a single step. He had obviously surprised her. She stood in stunned silence for a moment, tilting her head in slight confusion as to his meaning. When she didn't reply, he moved towards her and reached for her hand. "Iggy…" She said softly, moving back another step.

Was it a warning? Or had she simply just been taken by total surprise? He could hear her taking short and rapid breaths. No, he couldn't falter now. He must see this through, despite the consequences.

Now was the sense of impending doom; A heart that beat wildly with fear and hope. Would she accept him, or would she push him away? Had it been true that she cared for him, or was it all a horrifying misunderstanding? He willed himself to remain calm, hoping for the best and bracing himself for the worst. "Leya…" He took her hand and stepped forward, closing the gap between them.

"Stop. You can't."

The only thing that stopped was his heart. What did 'you can't' mean?

"I mean…You can't!" She said breathlessly. "You're Ignis Scientia, Right Hand of the King, a Lord of Lucis. Someone worthy, Igs. You need someone worthy. I'm a crownskeep, a refugee…"

There it was. Her fear of inadequacy; Her habit of placing him on a throne whilst she was content to sit in the shadows. She turned quickly, but he kept fast hold on her hand and pulled her back as she tried to leave. It would have to be just the way it was those years ago, when she hesitated to dance. All she needed was assurance and a strong lead. "Aleya Claren," He declared firmly, "None of that! You are more than you believe. You're my light. You're my right arm. You…" The rain fell harder now, beginning to batter at his shoulders. "You, Aleya, are the one I can possibly love."

To his surprise, she pulled her hand away, breaking into sobs. She covered her face with her hands. "Ignis! You can't be serious!"

For a moment, he felt something had gone horribly wrong. However, his trepidation melted away, as she leaned forward and landed her forehead against his chest, still covering her face with her hands. "I never thought…I couldn't…Are you sure you aren't confused?"

"Not this again!" He took her shoulders and moved her away slightly. "I haven't a single head injury, I assure you. The ring alone should confirm this isn't a spur of the moment feeling in a stressful situation. Is it so hard to believe I have feelings for you?"

She nodded, falling against his chest again, as if she were trying to hide. "Yes!" She wailed slightly, and threw her arms around him.

He couldn't help but smile at her predicament. As Gladio said, she was indeed 'cute'. He let her cling to him for a few minutes as the rain became a downpour.

"Are you sure?" She questioned, suddenly looking up at him.

"Certain," he murmured, and drew her face to his. He kissed her cheekbone tenderly. "Most certain."

As he was moving away, she arched her neck and softly met his lips with her own.

It wasn't nearly as awkward as their first kiss. It wasn't like the fiery heat of the first, but there was a simple and sweet warmth to it. There was an understanding between them, with no surprise or fear, no worry, no desperation. It was all the confirmation he needed. She had accepted him; There was nothing else to fear, and every reason to rejoice.

For a few moments, it was just he and she alone, in the rain. All the frustration, all the procrastination, all the anxiety over the last five years met in one brief, beautifully glorious expression of endearment.

As softly and briefly as their lips had met, they had parted. But she opted instead to wrap her arms around him in an embrace. Ignis smiled to himself; Happy for her acceptance, nearly weary with relief, astounded at his fortune.

And then, as usual, the interruption.

"Ah, I see I may have called at a bad time."

At the sound of the coaxing, coddling, regal accent, Ignis felt a chill in his blood. He immediately sprang into action. He spun towards the sound and shoved Aleya behind him, drawing his daggers for a fight. "What are you doing here?" He hissed.

"I've come to check in on your progress," The Immortal purred in reply. "Here I thought you'd be pining away, lamenting your lot, but I was wrong. It seems you have found a new—shall we say—passion for life."

"What do you want, Izunia?"

Aleya tried to peek out from behind him, tried to creep forward, putting a hand to his back. "Igs.."

"Stay back!" He snapped at her.

Ardyn wasted no time in expelling sarcasm. "Now, that's no way to speak to the woman you love. She might take it personally."

"I asked you what you wanted!" Ignis growled back.

"Temper, temper! Of course, one can hardly blame you. Look at what the Old Kings have done to you! Oh, cruel fate! Your eyes, of all things. It must be torture to love such a beautiful woman, and be unable to see her. And you, Miss? One could hardly blame you if you find his new appearance unseemly. Besides, he's grown so dependent these days. Only half the man he…"

"Don't speak to her!" Ignis shouted. He held out an arm protectively, moving slightly sideways to remove her from Ardyn's direct line of sight.

"And then, of course, is the frustration," Continued Ardyn, as if he hadn't heard Ignis at all. "I've heard you lodge together. Tell me, m'boy. How's it feel to never know what she's wearing—if anything at all?"

"That's enough!" Ignis snarled. Hadn't the man caused sufficient damage? Now he dared to treat Aleya so disrespectfully?

"It must be so frustrating to not even catch a glimpse of her in the shower. I certainly have. You don't know what you're miss…"

That simply was too much for Ignis to take. If it had been mere childish taunting, perhaps he would have had better control. But he had seen Ardyn Izunia's abilities firsthand, and he knew there was at least a very real possibility that he spoke the truth. He couldn't let that pass. "You bastard!" He shouted, diving at him with the dagger. He put his full weight into it, confident of the location of his target. To his surprise and dismay, however, he found himself tumbling forward, as his intended victim had vanished into thin air.

Tripping a bit, he quickly recovered and swung out and backwards. He could sense Ardyn there, somewhere, just behind him.

"Ignis!" Aleya cried out in warning.

His dagger met its target, but the matter it penetrated was soft—almost a gel—rather than the hardened bone and muscle of flesh. Ignis knew, of course, of Ardyn's ability to morph, to survive even the most lethal of attacks. Still, he felt dismay as his dagger slashed harmlessly through what should have been his enemy's face.

"This is hardly what I would call a warm welcome!" Now, Ardyn's voice was somewhere above, dancing about in echoes. The raindrops seemed to carry his voice—it was everywhere and nowhere all at once. "And it looks like you could do with more training."

Ignis could hear Aleya approaching, could see the faded light of her person as she ran towards him. She crashed into his arm, hand to his chest. "Ignis. Is this Ardyn?" She drew her own dagger from her boot.

He held up a hand for silence, panting, waiting for Izunia's next move. He might not be able to best him, but he would die trying.

Ardyn's voice was nearly coaxing. "As to your training, here's a simple lesson: To crush your opponent, you mustn't aim for his head." And then, the sinister curl of Ardyn's timbre, as if right in Ignis' right ear. He actuallyflinched at the proximity. "You aim for his heart."

In that exact moment, Aleya caught her breath and let out a terrifying cry. He could hear her dagger clatter to the ground. Ignis whirled to her, catching her elbows as she stiffened and shuddered, then began to sink. "Leya!" He wrapped both arms around her, going down with her slowly to ease her into her fall. As he did so, she gasped for air and groaned loudly. Her fingers ground into his shoulders with fervent desperation. "Leya! No!"

Ardyn chuckled. "Oh, my. She doesn't look too well. You best provide her some help straight away."

He balanced her on his bent knee and held her closely as she shivered violently, letting out whimpers of pain. "What have you done to her?!" He demanded in a startled fury.

"Only what was necessary. You need incentive."

"She's an innocent woman!" He meant to yell, but his voice broke, and he sounded quite desperate, indeed.

In an uncharacteristic loss of composure, he snapped back viciously. "They're all innocent!" He cleared his throat and collected himself, watching Ignis panic over his companion. "But in this world, innocence is all relevant, is it not?"

Ignis held the outstretched fingers of her grasping hand to his chest. "Stop this at once!"

"Oh, I'm afraid not. To do so requires a favor from my dear blind friend. We've been through so much together. Surely you wouldn't mind running an errand? Think of your beloved's health. I'm sure she'd be quite appreciative of your concession."

Ignis clenched his jaw tightly. What could he do? While he was loath to play games with this horror of a man, he had no choice. He held Aleya's life in his hands. Ignis had lost far too much already. He had lost nearly everything that held value in his life, including his King. Noct was being imprisoned gods knew where, awaiting the dark fate in store for him. Ignis had seen the future, and it was a bleak one. Aside from a few handful of friends, all he had left in the world was Aleya. He knew what would happen if he lost her. He would never recover. Ardyn had indeed struck him in the heart! He had to act quickly to make sure the wound would not be mortal. "What do you want?"

"I require the missing two royal arms."

His head swam. He was beginning to feel frantic. She was obviously in excruciating pain, and he couldn't stop it. Only minutes before he had held her in a flight of rapture, now he was holding her through the grips of torture. "We'll discuss it. Now stop her suffering!" He could feel the shuddering begin to weaken, and turn instead to spasms. Her grip began to ease. And then all at once, she stopped moving at all. She went slack in his grasp. "Aleya! Leya!" He placed his hand on her neck, feeling frantically for signs of life. "Leya, say something!"

Ardyn chuckled through his agony. "The once cool and calm tactician—a cowardly little lad."

"What have you done to her?!"

"I thought you wanted her suffering eased. Don't worry. I haven't killed her, at least not yet. She's an important part of our plan."

"Our plan?!" He pulled her close to him, as if hugging her tightly would protect her from Ardyn's cruel methods.

"As I've said, my collection is incomplete. I require the final two pieces of the set. You are to retrieve them for me."

"And betray my king? Never!"

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Ardyn replied. And against Ignis' neck, Aleya let out a gasp and a cry of agony once more.

"Cease this!" It was half command, half pleading.

"I don't think you understand. If you don't do as I ask, this beautiful young lady will turn into one of your monsters of the dark."

Ignis let out a horrified gasp of air, still clutching her tightly. He knew the man wasn't bluffing. He had seen him do it, and he would no doubt do it again if it served his purposes. "There's only thirteen, and I know you have them all." he tried to reason with him. "Even if that were not the case, my blood will never pass for royal power, and the keys to the tomb were lost with King Noctis."

He chuckled again and spoke to himself. "King. How amusing." Then to Ignis, "It seems like you have a fine few barriers to overcome, including your ignorance. There are not thirteen, m'boy. There have always been fifteen, ripe for the taking."

"Fifteen?"

"I could probably retrieve them myself, of course, but where's the fun in that?"

Ignis didn't answer. He was too focused on her trembling; on her soft whimpers into his clavicle.

"It's your choice to make, of course, but I suggest you make it quickly. She won't be holding on much longer. If you haven't returned in forty-eight hours with my desired items, I'm afraid the only way you'll be pursuing her is during your next hunt, with a weapon in your hand."

"Don't do this!" Ignis pleaded. It wasn't as if groveling came naturally. He simply had no choice. He could bring himself to beg for her sake. "We can talk terms. Leave Aleya out of our quarrel!"

His voice was cruelly unconcerned; maddeningly pleasant. "What assurance would I have? You'd have nothing left to lose! That wouldn't be very smart, would it?"

"Ardyn!" Ignis snapped. A small, strangled sob from Aleya.

"Consider this a favor. You'll be receiving adequate training before your King arrives. You'll be going alone, by the way. Should you receive help on your little training mission, our deal is forfeit, and the girl wanders the wastelands as a terror of the night. I wonder who would pick her off first? The hunters, or the beasts?"

"Izunia!"

"I'm afraid I'll be going, now. So good seeing our future Right Hand once more."

Ignis had begun to rise to his feet, to attempt another battle, but Aleya let out a mournful sound. He dropped to his hands and knees again, trying to shield her from the downpour, running his hands along her aimlessly as if to find the source of the wound. "Leya! Hold on!"

Her hand reached up and gripped his shirt tightly in a clenched fist. "Ig—Ignis…" She sobbed. "Don't. Don't do it…"

He knew he had no other choice. There was no further pondering to be done. As Ardyn said, he could easily retrieve the items himself, and Leya would be tortured and eventually killed. All he could do was to bow to his whim. Even Noct himself would agree to that! Noct couldn't have allowed Aleya to suffer any more than Ignis could. "Hold on. Hold on to me, Leya."

He could hear the sounds of voices and footwear approaching; People were no doubt wondering who was doing all the shouting. He couldn't see her condition, but remembering Ravus' state left him with an icy chill. If she had any indications at all of turning to a similar state—no matter how small—he knew full well what the consequences would be. People would panic. They might do something rash to her in their fervor to rid themselves of the threat. He couldn't allow that. Concealment and comfort were now his top priorities. "I've got you, My Girl." With that, he scooped her up and began retreating with haste down the stairs that stretched towards the old market. It was nothing more than a weapons cache now, and he hoped it wouldn't be as busy as the main hub of the city. However, he did unfortunately meet with a few gawkers.

She seemed to be weakening, dangling from his arms, save for one arm wrapped around him and her forehead against his neck. He could feel hot tears splashing onto his throat. "Ignis," she told him, nearly a whisper. "Don't. Don't give him…Don't give him what…"

Courageous little thing, he thought with pride. "Hush now. No need to worry. Matters are well in hand." He quickened his pace.

"Hey!" Shouted a familiar male voice, which rushed to him as he carried her along. Ignis knew who it was immediately—Alvor. "What the hell happened? What's wrong with her?!" Keeping pace with Ignis, he reached out for Aleya.

Ignis shoved him away with his shoulder aggressively as he continued to march forward. "Get out of my way!"

"What did you do to her?! Al!" He grabbed her arm at the wrist.

Ignis turned on him and lashed out in an uncontrolled rage, a rage he had never felt before. It felt as a raging flame rising up, threatening to consume him. "Don't touch her!" He spat, nearly nose to nose with his competitor. "Don't ever touch her again!"

The man might have retaliated under normal circumstances. Thankfully, most likely for her sake, he did not. Instead, he kept pace with Ignis as he turned and continued his rush towards the Leville.

Ignis ignored any further questions. He was far too preoccupied with Aleya. "Hold on," he kept murmuring to her, "Just hold on." But in truth, he knew he was speaking to himself. His head swam in panic, his heart lashing in protesting loss of rhythm. Every moment lost was a moment ticking towards her demise. He went as quickly as his legs could carry him without risking falling and harming them both.

Her only response to his assurances had now devolved to an occasional soft groan or a cringe of pain. She had buried her face—her lovingly memorized face—in his neck. He could feel her breath, sharp and irregular. She was being tortured to death. Ardyn was torturing the woman he loved. It had possibly been his goal all along, for in essence, he was also torturing the man who loved her.

The landlady, Blanche, met them at the door as he kicked it open. She was every bit as loud and obnoxious as Alvor. The two of them flanked him on each side, demanding answers to all their pointless questions. It wasn't just him who was bothered by it. Aleya nuzzled deeper into his neck, groaning at the uproar. He turned to them. "Stop! Can't you see she's suffering? Your yelling is only making it worse! If you want to help her, go retrieve a physician and one of the Crownsguard!" When they just stood and gaped in disbelief, he motioned towards the front door with a swift jerk of his head. "What are you standing there for?! Go!"

There was a scramble of feet, and Ignis was able to make the short distance to her residence on his own. Oh, curse it all—why did her room lack even the most basic of creature comforts? The ventilation was poor, what little bedding she had occupied the floor, and the voices of the family next door were loud enough to drive a healthy man insane. It was all she had, and not many residences had it any better. It was the price of a world devoid of light, the price one paid to merely survive. In any event, he had her situated by the time that Iris burst into the room, Gladio in tow.

"What the hell happened?" Gladio demanded, stooping next to Ignis on the floor.

He wrung her hand in his own and brushed her hair back from her face as she squirmed in agony. "Ardyn," he replied through his teeth.

"Ardyn? What's he doing here? What does he want?"

"What does he ever want?! To wreak havoc, of course! He says he has some sort of test-training for me." He briefly passed the back of his hand over his forehead. He was sweating profusely from the effort of carrying her such a long distance.

"What kind of test?"

"He claims there are two more royal arms, and he desires me to retrieve them; Alone."

Iris stood in the doorway still, horrified. "I don't understand. What's that got to do with Allie?"

Ignis' expression hardened. "He said it was 'incentive'. I've only 48 hours, lest she wind up as the High Commander."

Gladio swore under his breath. "What are you going to do?"

"Retrieve them." Ignis went to stand, but Gladio grabbed his arm. "Are you crazy? What are you thinking? Why would you get him weapons?"

"I have no choice! Leya's life is on the line!"

"Yeah, well, Noct's life is on the line if you do this. Don't you know what he wants them for?"

"Of course I know!" He impatiently exclaimed. "I'm loath to do as he asks, but I can't allow Leya to suffer like this."

"You! You of all people should understand what's at stake here. He wants to kill Noct!"

Ignis finally stood, shoving his arm away. Ignis had thought all of this through already. He had presented problems, possibilities, and had already spun calculations and solutions. Gladio couldn't possibly understand, and he was wasting his time. "He's killing Aleya right now!"

"You're sworn to serve the King!"

"I am serving the King!" Ignis shouted back as Gladio rose to meet him. "Do you think for a moment Ardyn needs me to do as he asks? I'm chosen for his plaything, and Leya's the one suffering for it!"

"That's not good enough, Specs!" He grabbed his shoulder.

Ignis shook him off. "Noct loves her too! Do you think her would approve of leaving her here to suffer and die for his sake? If he were here, he'd gladly retrieve them himself."

"Don't try to justify this." Gladio shoved him, and hard. "There's more at stake here than Noct and Aleya. It's about the future. It's about Eos…"

"I know full well!" He snapped, cutting him off. "And I know bloody well what I'm doing! You haven't seen what I've seen; You can't possibly know what I know! I know the consequences, and the outcome. The Chosen King will end the scourge and save our star. He will usher in the dawn. We will know peace. I guarantee it!"

Gladio scoffed at him. "You think you're the Oracle or something? Some kind of seer? You can't even see your hand in front of your face! How could you possibly see the future?!"

It was an insult of epic proportions; An insult no friend should ever make. He was mocking Ignis' blindness. It was a hit in a weeping wound, and they both knew it. Were Prompto here, he would have jumped to Ignis' defense immediately, even against a larger and much more temperamental opponent like Gladio. By this time, Ignis was used to most people mocking his lack of vision. However, he hadn't expected it from Gladio. It stung.

Then again, Gladio had never gotten over the assumption that Ignis would be forevermore debilitated. He had just assumed Ignis would never keep up—that he was permanently doomed to be a wizened, retired military commander. And Prompto wasn't much better. He had consistently been known for hovering over his blind friend like a mother cockatrice, continually asking if he was able to make it on his own. In fact, the only one who had ever had absolute and resolute faith in his ability to surpass his injury was the one writhing in pain on the floor; The one who needed him the most.

"I don't have time to argue with you. I needn't justify my actions. Noct is the Chosen and will gain victory. He will do so with his own talent. Two weapons make no difference against Noct's might."

"Convenient assumption. You expect us to believe that?"

"Whether you believe it or not is not my concern. I'll do as I must. I need you only to stay here and look after her until I return. Protect her from those that may harm her."

"I don't think you've got your priorities…"

Ignis lost his patience altogether. "There's no time! I only have 48 hours, and I haven't even a clue of where to begin looking! Do you understand? Whether I find them or not, I have faith Noct will prevail. If I don't find them…" He felt a rising pain in his chest. His voice broke. "Noct has our support. He has the Oracle, the Marshal, the Crownsguard, the Glaive. Aleya…Aleya only has me. And if there's a dawn without her….There's no reason for me to live for it."

Iris gave a little gasp and put her face in her hands, shaking her head. "Oh, Iggy…! Gladdy, you big jerk! You know Ignis would rather die than hurt Noct! Just get out of his way!"

Gladio wouldn't relent so easily. "You said yourself you don't even know where to look."

The tactician sighed with frustration. "I don't. I truly don't know. Aleya is the historian. It doesn't matter. I'll think as I go along. Maybe it will come to me." He went for the door, but paused when he heard Aleya's voice: tearful, weak, and calling him.

"Ignis…no…don't…dangerous…"

He went back to her swiftly, kneeling at her side once more. "I'm going. I can handle myself. No creature dares bar my path now."

She gasped in pain. "Don't give…him…anything…"

"Don't worry yourself." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles sweetly. "I know what I'm doing." As he stood, he nodded at Iris. "Please. Look after her, for me."

Iris crossed over to him and squeezed his arm. "Yeah. We will. Won't we, Gladio?"

There was a pause, and then a sullen, "Sure. No problem."

Aleya gave a faint cry, but it sounded more like an epiphany than pain. She grabbed his pant leg. "Ignis! Aleystina…and…Alandester…."

A look of realization crossed his face immediately. He snapped his fingers. "Of course! The twins! They've a tomb on the island capital of Galahd…!" He ran for the door.

'Hold on, Leya. Help is on the way.'

22nd of December, ME 758

The journey was eventful, to say the least. Ardyn was certain it would be. If Ignis was unable to accept help of any kind, he supposed that included a ride by magitek engine or automotive transport. But, knowing very well that he couldn't possibly make the journey on foot in suitable time, he dared to procure a chocobo. Wiz sent her straight away, assuring him she was the fastest of all his domesticated birds. What he said was true; He arrived by day's end.

When he arrived near Galahd, however, the chocobo stalled and refused to proceed further. He had to go on alone.

Here is where the challenge began. He had never laid eyes upon Galahd, and he certainly wasn't able to at present. He dug down into his memory, and thought he might have seen a brief glimpse of the city in pictures, and the layout of a basic outdated road atlas. But Galahd had been conquered by the empire over a dozen years hence. Everything had changed: the topography, the stores, the homes, the streets. What's more, it had been thoroughly overrun by Nagarane and Ariadni, as well as Iron Giants. Those were in addition to the smaller foes. And even worse, the Behemoths, who were aggressive by nature, found delight in doing battle with such adversaries. He therefore had an abundance of gargantuan enemies in which to dispatch.

In shame, he hesitated for a moment. He was going in quite literally blind, after all, and completely alone. There was no one to watch his back. Admittedly, the last time he had to do battle completely alone, it hadn't ended well. Even with the aid of allies in the past, he had been bested in battle—the whole reason Aranea dragged his half-dead body back to Aleya those six months prior.

However, he thought of Aleya suffering, alone and frightened, in horrible pain. He thought of what Ardyn promised to do to her. He thought of all she had been through since she had to flee the soil he was standing on at the innocent age of thirteen. He thought of his confession—a confession he had waited years to make. His heart began to twist in pain at the immorality of the whole situation. He couldn't abandon her. No matter the impossibilities, he was determined to save her—or die trying.

And so, resolution made anew, he twisted a status-warding ribbon around his palm and forearm, typing it off with his teeth. He prepared his weapons, checked his restoratives, and went in.

It wasn't easy. Many times he sincerely felt he would die in that place. But his resolution to live and save her, to welcome back Noct, spurred him on. He refused to die there when so much was hanging in the balance, dependent on his existence.

Finally, he found himself exhausted, battered and bruised, bleeding heavily, approaching the tomb of the Royal Twins. And then something beyond his comprehension occurred:

He had fallen, gasping for breath, just on the cusp of the steps leading to the tomb. His restoratives were wearing thin, and he dared not use them excessively. He plunged his dagger into what was left of the flailing Nagarani with more exhaustion than spite. She hissed as she dissolved, tail whipping about in fury. Willing himself forward, he staggered on.

There had been a light; Not a literal light, but rather the sense of one. He followed it to the location he felt in his soul it was leading him to. Up grand stone steps, with wobbling legs. He walked until his strength momentarily failed, and he fell at the entrance of the tomb. He let out an audible expression of pain as he rolled over and crawled to the door, running his fingers over the entrance. He knew he was in the correct place. He could feel the scrawling artistry of the door—tiny ribbons of clamshells and corals-and traced the outline of the Lucian memorial crest around the handles. This metal door separated he and Aleya's salvation from reality.

Of course, there was no way to open it. He pushed, pulled, kicked. He tried working the dagger in the seal of the door to pry it open, but he knew all was fruitless. He was not of royal blood, and the key was long since lost. He took a precious elixir to regain his strength and tried again, over and over, before he suddenly cried out in despair and fell to his knees. He sat with his back to the door, face toward the sky, totally defeated.

If only Noct were there…

He couldn't imagine losing Aleya. And if the idea of losing her wasn't torture enough, he could never imagine telling Noct of his failure. Noct would worry. He would be frustrated about being absent when her life hung in the balance. He would blame himself for not being able to help. Ignis thought about the times he had seen Aleya and Noct together through the years: happy times, as when they went to restaurants, theatres, birthday parties, formal events. He thought of Noct dancing with her during the Founder's Day Festival. He thought of them playing video games for study breaks; Noct chasing her around the campfire with amphibians. What hurt the worst was his fondest memory: The two of them perfectly at ease at the back stairwell, Noct reading Luna's message while Leya spoiled Umbra. He also thought of difficult times. Of Noct's eyes changing when he heard of the rumors against her, how he enacted a new edict simply for her sake! He had insisted on visiting her when she was sick with her anemia, and how Ignis woke in the hospital to the both of them at his side. Noct had encouraged Ignis to pursue her. It wasn't only for Ignis' benefit, but he suspected for hers, as well. Noct almost loved her as much as he loved his Retainer. Or rather, he loved her because Ignis loved her.

Lost, he felt tears well up in his scarred eyes. He put his elbows on his knees and held his head with his right hand as he pounded the stone ground with the fist of his left. After the melancholy and fear, after the cold desperation and disappointment, a burning rage began to set in. He wouldn't allow her to be taken this way. He couldn't! If he failed, no one else would ever have the opportunity to save her. Ardyn would win. And he simply would not permit Ardyn to win. He had done too much to them already. He had destroyed their home, stolen their country, killed off most all they ever knew or loved, and had managed somehow to have Noct banished to some 'Beyond' no one understood or could reach. And now, he dared to take the one thing Ignis had left….

"No!" He stood and shouted to the sky, not caring which creatures in the vicinity could hear. He would take them all on. "You will not take her from me! You'll never take her! No more! Do you hear me, Izunia? No more! I've had enough of you!" Literal fire felt as if it crept across his skin. Indeed, if he had been sighted, he could swear he was standing in a sea of flames. His hatred began to rage so hotly that he was sure he was scorching the tomb about him. And then, to his utter amazement, the steel behind him creaked and groaned before finally caving in from their hinges.

Ignis spun quickly to the sound and stood in shock as the ground beneath his feet shook at the felling of the entrance. Who had opened the doors? Was it Ardyn; Who maybe had his fun and was done with him? The Oracle, who still worked to restore the light, who entrusted Ignis with her foreknowledge? Was it the Kings of Old? Why would they help him retrieve weapons for the enemy they sought to destroy? They'd most likely execute him before aiding him, no matter whether the future had foreordained. Noct would have approved, but they? Never!

Noct…

A thought crossed his mind. Could it have been the King himself? Noct would have willingly done anything to help save her.

He would have to think of such things later, he decided. None of that was important. For a blind man roaming a world devoid of sunlight or warmth it was impossible to tell time, and time was indeed short. Despite such an astounding blessing and miracle, he had no time to ponder. Aleya needed him, and he would not fail her.

He made it back with an hour or so to spare. Talcott told him so as he pressed into the lobby. He had no idea he would cut it so close!

He had to push through the crowds of people in the lobby; The compressed, congealed mass of human skin. They were loitering about, and certainly didn't seem friendly. They all seemed to be turned in the direction of Aleya's humble hovel, and were waiting…simply waiting.

What drew the most alarm was entering the room with no trace of Aleya. He couldn't hear her breathing. He scanned the room, but there was no tell-tale light of her presence, anywhere. The world was completely black. He demanded to know where she was, all sorts of nightmarish events rolling through his brain. "I can't see her!" He kept saying, but everyone simply stared at him in astonishment, as if he had lost his mind.

Prompto was there, and he told him finally that she was in some sort of coma, and her skin was turning the same oozing, sickly bluish-black that the High Commander had once contracted.

Ignis willed the weapons to life—something he didn't even know he could do in Noct's absence—and threw them on the ground, demanding aloud for Ardyn to show himself. And, as if simply waiting for the personal invitation, he did so.

"Ah, there you are. Fully intact, and bearing gifts. My, my; You are a special one, are you not? Fascinating. Though, the last one to the party, I'm afraid. Didn't your father teach you punctuality?" Ardyn's simpering, sarcastic comments knew no end.

"Heal her, now!" Ignis demanded. He stood with his feet apart, his hands balled into fists, his muscles taunt, leaning ever so slightly forward. He was ready to fight. "Or I'll make you wish you had."

"You've forgotten I'm immortal," he responded.

Ignis' lip curled in spiteful fury. "I've forgotten no such thing. I am well aware of what you are. I also concede I can never destroy you. I can, however, make you wish for respite. I'm well prepared to keep you occupied until the King's return." Ignis raised one hand, fingers spread, palm tilted to the sky. Fire sparked to life and leapt in long flames, swirling around his forearm. "You know very well that I can."

There was that famous cackle, the cackle that Ignis detested. He yearned to be rid of it. "Splendid, m'boy. You've got some "fire" in you after all. Keep this up, and your beloved Noctis may live long enough to crown me King up on his return."

"He'll live long enough to throw you into the hell you belong," Ignis growled. "And I will be there to ensure it happens. Now, heal her!"

"Ah-ah-ah!" Ardyn replied, waggling a finger. "First thing first, you know." And he raised his hand to summon the weapons to himself.

The room fell silent for several moments. Nothing happened. Ardyn paused with a dismal look at his hand. He let out a light chuckle. "Even Aleystina denies me now."

"That's no fault of mine." Ignis snapped. "I've upheld my end of the bargain. Uphold yours!"

Ardyn paused, as if considering his options for a moment.

Ignis held his breath, ticking off the seconds in his mind. He wouldn't have been surprised if Ardyn left them and refused to heal her out of hateful spite for his rejection. However, to his surprise, there was a slight laugh of sarcasm. And though he was certain that Ardyn still fixated him with that abhorrent smile, after a few moments, there was a rush of air that felt almost like a mist, and strong with arduous fury. Aleya cried out sharply. Ignis felt a chill at her voice, for it didn't sound like her at all. It sounded mechanical and deep. Then with a whimper and a cry, the rush of air ended, and a bright pale green blur in the outline of a female form once again formed in Ignis' right eye. The disease had been removed, and she was healed of the Starscourge.

"Now, you best let her rest, you naughty boy," Ardyn chided Ignis. "She has quite the recovery ahead." He chuckled again. "Until next we meet." He bowed in an eloquent swoop of his hat.

"Never again!" Ignis hissed, extinguishing the flames in his hand with a quick swipe of his arm.

"I suppose we'll find out." And with that, Ardyn's voice faded.

Prompto immediately interjected. "Whew! That dude seriously creeps me out!"

That was rather polite, Ignis thought. He just found him completely and utterly revolting.

Gladio, the more pragmatic, ushered everyone out of the room quickly and shut the door behind himself.

Ignis should have sated his thirst, eaten, or showered the complete filth off of himself. Instead, he dropped to his knees beside Aleya. He felt her pulse. He ran his hands over her arms, her throat, her face. He felt for the rise and fall of her lungs. He had to assure himself that she was completely whole once more. Satisfied, he toyed absently with her hand for a moment and placed it on her stomach.

It was then that—adrenaline gone—all strength left his body. He collapsed next to her, hand wrapped around hers. He absent-mindedly ran his pinky under the bracelet on her wrist; the bracelet he had given her so many years ago.

He would have passed out from blood loss and pain eventually, probably. But at this time, he felt himself drifting off in contentment. Finally—after losing the King, his father, his uncle, Lunafreya, Noct…he had finally managed to save someone he loved. He fell asleep at the sound of the steady rise and fall of her breath, thinking that if he had to go through such physical agony again to protect her again, he would gladly do so. He would care for her, as long as he drew breath.

25th of December, M.E. 758

Aleya slept for days. Ignis worried himself sick over her, constantly checking her pulse and breathing, constantly making sure she was covered, but not too warm; cool, but not too cold. When she wasn't conscious enough to eat, he dribbled milk into her mouth for hours at a time. He asked the physician to come and see her, but he adamantly refused. He learned his refusal had something to do with his fear of contracting the Starscourge. In fact, he was one of the foremost superstitious locals who had called for her death. He wouldn't come near her for anything Ignis offered—and he offered as much as possible. Ignis was left to his own devices, although he had frequent support and visits from Iris, Monica, Gladio, the Marshal, and even Blanche. Holly never showed, but she may have been too busy to come check on her.

Alvor notably had never inquired of her condition; Not since the day that Ignis deposited her in her room and left for Galahd. Gladio informed Ignis that Alvor had stood quietly as the crowd chanted for her death. Though he once claimed he had affection for her and that he would even die for her, such affection obviously waned when he noticed her state of health. The man could never truly love her! He was too embarrassed to come around even after she was healed. All the better, Ignis thought. She deserved far better than he, and Ignis quite likely would never have to worry about him again.

It seemed everyone in the city quite lost their wits from fear, and turned on her. The threats of violence culminated in a minor mob arriving in an attempt to throw her outside the gates before she fully changed to whatever she would have been. Gladio and the Marshal provided adequate deterrent, though he feared that even the Marshal probably had begun contemplating whether or not to sacrifice her for the greater good. Moreover, the danger wasn't passed. There were still constant rumors and whispers in the street.

While cooking was never his favorite pastime, he was certainly good at it, and decided it was high time to practice his talents in anticipation of her good health. He wanted her to wake and sample something smashingly good. He attacked the spice cabinet and the kitchen knife with new fervor. And until she finally opened her eyes, his anxiety knew no bounds, though his kitchen skills certainly did.

26th of December, ME 758

Aleya finally woke. Ignis didn't even realize it at first, as he was busy in the kitchen. But that telling blur of light began stirring in his peripheral vision, and he turned to find with elated joy that she was rousing from her slumber. She was exhausted; weak as water. He had to help her sit up, to walk to the restroom, and he had to get her afterwards. She literally wept in embarrassment, as she was painfully modest. Ignis was only too happy to help; Helping meant holding her in his arms, and he was only too happy to provide. Afterwards, he settled her in to a soft yet delicious soup. He fawned over her constantly.

However, not all was well. Rumors still proliferated outside of their tiny abode. The gossip mill turned dark and ugly. Had Ignis ever known the extent of the danger, he probably would never have let her venture out during waking hours. But he regarded it as flighty suspicion that would pass; He never dreamed anyone could stay suspicious of her for long. One look at her pretty face, one word of her sweet voice—he was sure they would understand there was no more danger.

However, the City of Light was in truth a dark and ugly city, and it would take an even darker turn in the coming days.