Chapter Summary: Life marches on.
5 years later
The Cleigne wind was bone dry and it swept in with a vengeance, kicking up grit, ash and whatever else was conveniently lying around to hurl in their faces. Off to his left Gladio heard a hunter curse, one with a ponytail full of blazing red hair. Reno he thought was his name. He hadn't had much chance to get to know this bunch all that well yet.
Hours ago they'd set out on a routine hunt to exterminate what they could of an arachne horde cropping up in the region. It was the type of job that had become more and more prevalent over the last several years. There was no controlling the daemon population, all their efforts combined left a measly dent at best. Rather, the hope was to give untainted wildlife a better shot at survival and maybe make the world a tiny bit safer outside Lestallum's walls.
But nowadays danger never strayed far. They'd gotten word of a distress signal before they even reached their targets, and so now they were first on the scene.
The glow from Ravatogh's peak kissed the dark sky above a burning magma red as they set about combing the lava fields sprawled at its base. It was an alluring sight, teasing an impossible sunrise before a world trapped in perpetual twilight. But in this case, Gladio was more appreciative of the extra bit of light lending strength to their torches.
"Got eyes on the ship," another hunter reported in, "err, what's left of it anyway."
Gladio altered course to see for himself. They'd kept their search pattern tight to avoid getting separated and it wasn't long before he recognized Lea waving him over to the crash site. His name at least came easily on account of how enthusiastic the kid had been in introducing himself. Despite being the taller of the two, Gladio had him pegged as Reno's younger brother. The resemblance between the redheads was uncanny.
"Any sign of survivors?" Gladio asked as he turned his torch toward the wreck of the airship. Though the answer was all but obvious from the look of things. The hull had practically been ripped in two, scored with absolutely massive claw marks that'd left its innards strewn across the ingenious rock. He doubted anyone walked away from this.
"No tracks," the last hunter confirmed, rounding the far side of the mess with Reno in tow. Dark-skinned as she was, he would have been hard pressed to pick her out if it weren't for the torch affixed to her coat.
He glanced over at Reno, but the other man shook his head. "What Fran said, doesn't look like anyone made it out. Most of the cargo is probably a wash too."
Though not as egregious as the loss of life that was going to be a problem in itself. Thanks to the likes of Aranea, and surprisingly Ravus, a good many of the Empire's airships had been repurposed for the safe transport of vital supplies. Lestallum and what outposts they'd managed to hold onto throughout Lucis relied on those.
"Any ideas what daemon could have done this?" Lea spoke up from where he'd moved closer to the ship, his hand splayed aside one of the monstrous gouges. There were a variety of flying daemons out there. But none Gladio knew of that could have done this kind of damage to an imperial dropship.
"I don't think it was a daemon," he confessed as they set to work. Wildlife was more aggressive than ever. And magitek engines were notoriously loud. The ship must have spooked something big. But daemonic or otherwise, it wouldn't be long before they attracted unwanted attention of their own. It was a deep-seated knowledge that had all of them hustling their way through the downed ship. Gladio took care to stash anything salvageable within the armiger. As suspected, it was too late for the crew. He was just about to shoot off a text on their findings when a pack of thunder bombs turned up to investigate, drawn in by the noise and the light of their torches.
Taking his great sword to the purplish flames of the closest bomb, Gladio kept an eye out for any warning of a self-detonation. He'd learned his lesson from the explosive nuisances – lost an eyebrow on one very unfortunate run in with the fire variety shortly after Lestallum's defenses had first been shored up. He was sure Prompto still had the photo squirreled away somewhere in hiding. The blond punk liked to claim he was "keepsaking" memories to share with Noct when he finally found his way back to them. Gladio called it blackmail.
With the help of three experienced hunters, he managed to clear out most of the bombs without a similar mishap. But it hadn't been quiet. The fighting alerted the local saphrtails. More vicious than their reapertail counterparts, the overgrown creepy-crawlies ambushed them from the darkness with sharp pincers and raised stingers. Their black carapaces made them especially difficult to see coming and Gladio had to listen closely for their scuttling about as he moved on the last bomb. Thanks to Fran covering him with her crossbow he only picked up a few extra nicks before the thunder bomb perished in a bright burst of electric sparks and burnt ozone.
It was hard to say if all the static in the air had something to do with it, but in the next moment Gladio felt the hair along his arms and the back of his neck stand on end. He couldn't put a name to what made him look up. Might've had something to do with all the years spent training with a winged sparing partner, or maybe paranoia simply caught up to him after hunting so long in the dark. Whatever the reason, the instinct saved his hide.
"Everyone scatter!"
He'd seen a zu up close all of once – years back, when the roads outside Insomnia had still seemed new and he and the guys were blackmailed into gemstone collecting by a reporting conman. They'd woken the colossal bird of prey by accident and nearly been blown down the cliffside as it had flown off. That experience paled before the vision of divine retribution barreling out of the sky above. It almost made Gladio regret stealing that giant egg for a Cup Noodle topping last he'd paid visit to Ravatogh.
The impact with the ground left no one on their feet. Overturning the shell of the airship – and very nearly crushing Fran – the zu used four wings to pivot its considerable mass as it snapped up one of the saphrtails. Three more saphrtails disappeared down the hungry bird's bottomless gullet before it thought to add hunter to the menu.
Luckily, Reno was quick on his feet. He dove under a shelf of lava rock in the nick of time to narrowly avoid the massive beak lined with needle-like teeth. But he'd found himself a fragile defense at best and the zu didn't take kindly to being denied even a single morsel. With talons longer than Gladio was tall, it began to rake the ground, shredding through the rocky terrain and forcing all of them to take cover from the flying debris.
Gladio got clipped in the shoulder by a Regalia sized boulder. Rolling with the hit, he dropped down out of the line of fire. Flat on his back against a shallow rise of rock he took a moment to breathe through the twinge in his shoulder and considered their options. Bringing down an animal of these proportions would be out of the question without backup. But he'd need to get the zu's attention off their pinned hunter if they were all going to make a break for it.
The thought of tossing one of the armiger's elemental flasks crossed his mind, despite that they were supposed to be rationing them for emergencies. This felt like a situation that fit the bill. But as he pushed himself up to peek around at the carnage, two red shuriken sailed overhead. One slashed at the zu's leg, the other stuck, sharp points of the weapon biting into the beast's thigh.
Lea caught the first shuriken after it wound its way back. "Hey, ugly! Over here," he shouted obnoxiously from the top of his lungs, completely exposed.
Right, brothers. Gladio had spent enough time around Noct and Iggy's shenanigans he should've expected this brand of insanity.
The zu reacted as expected, losing interest in digging through the lava rock for a hunter it could no longer see in favor of the lunatic screaming out in the open. Gladio took that as his cue. With a practiced throw he launched a flask at the zu's feet, unleashing a miniature lightning storm.
He doubted it did much more than tickle to something so gargantuan. But the zu reared back at the flashy display with an ear-splitting screech, spreading its four wings for a hasty takeoff. Gladio knew enough it wouldn't stay airborne long. As it circled above, he broke cover in a dead sprint. Lea, at least, had the good sense to start running and Gladio all but tackled the lanky beanstalk once the several thousand tons of vengeful carnivorous bird dive-bombed straight for them. Unable to witness the impending death dropping out of the sky beneath the cover of his toughest shield, Gladio closed his eyes and braced.
That's when he heard it – the shrill whistle of supper heated flames propelled through the air like a missile. The fireball slammed into the side of the zu, knocking it off target to crash down in a mess of flailing limbs and smoking feathers.
All of which were a hair too close for comfort. Gladio and Lea scrambled apart, just missing getting pancaked by the zu's tail. Before the dust could settle out of the darkness came a familiar roar, one that over the last five years had come to be known as the herald of death for both beast and daemon alike.
It might as well have been an angel's choir to Gladio's ears, even if it meant it was most definitely time to make tracks. "We need to get clear," he said.
"Don't gotta tell me twice," Lea huffed, already on his feet.
Gladio scanned the sky as they made for the rocks, but it was like trying to pick out a shadow in the night. It wasn't until the zu had managed to right itself that their rescuer showed himself. And did so by swooping in from behind to drag the zu right back to the ground in a display of momentum paired with sheer raw power.
Gladio was seeing more and more of such impossible displays. Not that Iggy hadn't always been ludicrously strong – he just wasn't bothering to downplay it any longer. The dragon had grown in the years since Noct was taken by the Crystal, so much so that he was of an intimidating size even when squared off against the giant of Ravatogh. Gladio knew it had something to do with the bond they'd once shared. Whatever resources Iggy had been lending to Noct now had nowhere else to go but himself and ever since he'd shot up like a freaking weed and his feathers had begun to blend in with the night.
The changes took some getting used to, though none so much as the loss of his voice. That day in Zegnautus had robbed them of so much. Gladio almost hadn't recognized his friend when they'd found him bloodied and chained, seemingly trapped in the throes of an animalistic rage. They'd heard his warnings too late and lost Noct because of it. Now they were making sure to do better.
As such, Ignis rarely traveled without backup, so it wasn't much of a surprise running into Prompto when they caught up to Reno and Fran. The blond sprung up to capture Gladio in a tight hug that doubled as a once over for any visible injuries as Reno blustered through a similar – if less clingy – check up on Lea.
Gladio allowed it for a few short moments before tapping out. "Relax, I'll live."
"Phew, good to hear!" Prompto released him seemingly satisfied and went back to his bazooka.
Gladio recognized it as the one he'd held onto from Altissia. "How'd you get here, hitch a ride with Iggy?"
"Yeah, we were coming to help salvage what we could of the ship anyway. But we got worried when we didn't hear back, and then I think Iggy smelled the zu," Prompto explained with a helpless shrug. "He dropped me off after the fireball."
Gladio understood why watching Ignis bury his claws in the zu's back and refuse to let go even as the abominable feather duster bucked and attempted to scrape him off. The two rolled, Iggy disappearing under an avalanche of dark feathers before popping back up unbothered, like the star wrangler in some deranged chocobo rodeo.
Gladio tried not to dwell on how the comparison made it sound like he'd been hanging around Cid too much and winced as Iggy broke away, tearing out a mouthful of long, black feathers. He left behind a noticeable gap in the plumage of the zu's larger right wing. Before the zu could take in after him Prompto took his shot. The missile nailed the broad side of the zu with a rattling blow.
Ignis took that for the sign it was that everyone had gotten clear of the blast zone and let loose his own artillery of elemental fire rather than reengage up close with the zu. All while Prompto lined up another missile. Between them the hulking mass of pillow stuffing was lit up like a Founder's Day Celebration pyrotechnic display.
There was something of an awed silence as the zu met its fiery demise. Then the cheers went up. It didn't take much to get Prompto to enthusiastically join in. And even Fran, who seemed the type of few words and even fewer expressions was smiling brightly.
"Still can't believe they sent the King's Dragon." Lea sounded a little awestruck.
"Why wouldn't they? You're forgetting we had Amicitia with us." Reno lazily hooked his thumb Gladio's way. "Everyone knows better than to mess with one of the dragon's favorite people."
"He would've come to pull anyone's ass out of the fire," Gladio corrected, though he could admit it may not have been quite so violent a rescue if he hadn't been here. On the upside the meat from the zu would more than make up for their lost supplies. It was just tragic lives were lost to get it.
The hunters all made room on Ignis' approach. But none of them freaked out or looked the least bit spooked. It was yet another change that had come about with Iggy's inability to hide behind a human shape. He was simply too big to go unnoticed and by now all of Eos knew what he was – or everyone left on it anyway.
He'd become something of a fixture of security in the eyes of the common populace, spending most of his days nested in Lestallum. What passed as the media these days had spread word that he'd been sent by the Chosen King as a guardian of sorts as a tactic to lift people's spirits in the early days. It was easy enough to tell Iggy didn't appreciate the attention or that he took up so much space in one of the last remaining bastions of human civilization. But his presence alone proved a very effective daemon deterrent. And in a pinch he could throw up some impressive walls of flames to deter just about anything prowling in the darkness.
As many people as Iggy kept safe just by being around, there was also another benefit to keeping Ignis so centrally located. His wings were the fasted ticket anywhere, even with airships at their disposal. In the case of an emergency or the need for some heavy lifting in just about any scenario Iggy was ready on standby. Rescue opps weren't uncommon with how dicey their lives had gotten, and this was hardly the first time Gladio himself had been on the receiving end of the backup Ignis could offer.
Wound down from the fight, Ignis breezed through his patented mother-henning routine. Sniffing over Gladio first, he hovered over the shoulder where Gladio knew he'd have a spectacular bruise come tomorrow before moving on to check in on Prompto. He granted the hunters more personal space, placated after a visual once over with those night vision eyes of his.
Gladio attempted to do the same for Ignis, noting that he looked ruffled but didn't move stiffly as if he'd taken any hard hits. Still, if nothing else the clash with the zu had to of taken a lot of energy. It couldn't hurt to put in a word and make certain he got a visit from their self-appointed dragon expert to check up on him and see to it he consumed a healthy share of the zu meat they would be bringing in.
As they made to see to that and the remains of the airship Gladio thought back on how not a one of them had been quite prepared when Sania Yeager blew into Lestallum, all but demanding an audience up close and personal with the dragon that had taken to looming over the city like a protective shadow. It had been in the early days still of taking in survivors and reinforcing their defenses to stand against an unceasing night. Cor had only just begun to take charge in coordinating their efforts and pulling together something resembling a chain of command. With how fragile it had all been they were leery of letting anyone close to Ignis. But in the end they'd known just how dependent they'd become on a creature almost all of them knew next to nothing about, and Iggy was now largely incapable of speaking up for his own needs – one of the few areas he'd never been so stellar at in the first place. Dr. Sania was a renowned biologist and not an unfamiliar face. She was also far from easily deterred. If anyone could work out if they needed to make changes to keep their resident dragon healthy it'd be her.
Predictably, Ignis had been the opposite of thrilled.
Sania had at least shown more reason that expected, heeding their repeated warnings and making an effort to wash away the smell of frog that clung to her skin. But after years of field research the stench was likely permanently ingrained if the distance Ignis tried to keep between them during the appointment was any indication.
Gladio and Prompto had both been there as well, mostly as a sort of moral support. And also to maybe convince Iggy not to bail.
The whole experience felt the slightest bit reminiscent of holding Iris' hand through her very first doctor visit. But Gladio was a dead man if he ever said as much aloud. An Ignis stripped of his ability to respond to such things with scathing one liners was a lot more tetchy and a lot less forgiving.
Thankfully, his ire wholly fixated on Sania that day, who'd apparently known their little secret all along. She addressed Ignis by name, chiding him as if he were merely a research assistant prone to wander off on assignment. "Now, Ignis, wasn't it? Do come closer, dear. How else am I to examine your submandibular glands?"
"Wait, wait," Prompto broke in, signaling with his hands for a timeout, "so, you knew?"
"How long have you known," Gladio amended, more curious to learn what had tipped the scientist off.
"Oh, I had theories after the first time you boys rounded up some lovely specimens for me," Sania hummed distractedly, inserting herself within reach of Ignis' teeth without an ounce of trepidation.
By her own admission, there wasn't much outside of Insomnia on dragons. And most of that information had gone up in smoke along with the city, however, studies weren't nonexistent. Gladio had assumed the beef with frogs was more of an Iggy thing. But it turned out some long-deceased researcher had published an obscure article noting the dragons' natural avoidance of the little amphibians. It barely counted as more than a footnote in the back of a forager's guide to natural remedies for keeping dangerous wildlife at bay. And yet, it had been enough to give them away to Sania.
Allowing her to do her thing turned out to be a good call. If not for her they might not have cottoned on nearly as quick to some of Iggy's low points – particularly since he was hellbent on pushing through exhaustion or hunger like nothing was wrong. And they really would've been at their wits end when his feathers first started going dark.
That had been a, frankly, terrifying time. All of Lestallum had been on edge, fearing the worst. Gladio himself had silently dreaded what it might mean and what they might have to do about it. They'd brought in Sania as fast as they could get ahold of her, and she'd been chomping at the bit to get the bottom of it.
"It's fascinating, truly." She'd rummaged about her workstation with her typical energy, somehow avoiding tipping over racks of samples or the tall stacks of parchment cluttered about as she rambled on with clear admiration over a single blackened feather, "what we're seeing here, it's the perfect adaption for an apex predator in a world gone dark."
"So, evolution and stuff can really happen that quickly?" Prompto followed her ministrations skeptically.
"Nature certainly is a force to be reckoned with, though more likely this is a morphological color change brought on by long-term ambient stimuli," Sania corrected without looking up from whatever test she was running.
"Ambient stimu-what's it?"
"She means environmental cues that can trigger behaviors or survival mechanisms," said Gladio, who did pick up a book from time to time and retained at least some of fourth grade science, "like a change in seasons or the weather."
That Prompto seemed to understand. "Oh! Like a sabertusk turning white in the winter."
"And you're certain it's not the Scourge?" Cor asked dubiously.
Sania waved away the marshal's concerns like one might a particularly persistent gnat. "Yes, yes. He's testing negative."
To make it all weirder, there was this patch of lighter feathers off center on Iggy's chest, right over his heart, that held onto their original coloring. Gladio kept waiting for those to turn as well but years passed and they never did. He didn't know if that was supposed to mean anything or not. Privately, he chalked it up to another sign that Ignis was still himself under the gruffer temper and helpless frustration of the whole situation.
It was a small detail he'd caught the former high commander stealing glances of from a distance, before getting lost in that hundred-mile stare he'd seemed to pick up after Altissia. Ravus was a strange one. Gladio didn't quite know what to make of him but he'd yet to double cross them and his connections with both the empire and Tenebrae had come in handy establishing some semblance of order.
The guy had earned more than their tentative trust by now, though Gladio wouldn't go so far as to call them pals. He couldn't help but wonder if Ignis would have managed that had he still been one for friendly conversation – he was the one to first paint the man as an ally after all. But Iggy's silence wouldn't be forever he had to remind himself. And neither would the sunless days.
They just had to hold out and soon Noct would come back – looking proud of himself for having gotten years' worth of slacking off – and Ignis will get to share with them his long, mentally alphabetized list of all they ways he's wanted to tell them what idiots they've all been.
Gladio was looking forward to it.
Brownie points to those of you who picked up on the not-so-subtle Square Enix character cameos in this. Someday I shall do a proper Lea and Reno as brothers story.
Now, what follows is something of an omake I'm tacking on at the end here to reveal the type of insane discussions I've gotten into over this story. It's almost word for word a conversation between me and the extremely talented ScribeOfReaper. "Fire Forged" would not be what it is if not for her constant support. Anywho, have some fun silliness:
All Hail the Dragon of the Chosen King
Ignis did his best to exude an air of non-threatening calm. Admittedly, it was a bit of a hard sell after he'd near single-handedly decimated the daemon horde that had cornered these poor souls. Human survivors were becoming fewer and farther between as the world slipped further into darkness – so much so that when they'd received an SOS from an abandoned town near the Alstor Slough, Cor had sent not only him but Aranea along with her airship to act as transport. Now Ignis couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he should have been left behind.
Prompto frantically promised the refugees that he was indeed one of the "good guys" and was absolutely, under no circumstances, going to eat them. But the fervent support hardly seemed to sway them. One even began to beg for guidance on what they might offer to display their fealty for the Lucian dragon that he may spare their lives.
Ignis had hoped by this point Aranea might take charge of the situation. It was only after the mercenary proved to be quite useless that Ignis realized he'd misjudged her no-nonsense demeanor when it came to missions. Once the danger had passed she'd leaned leisurely against the side of her ship to enjoy the show, commenting on how taking on a dragon for rescue opps may not make for the most relieving first impression to survivors but, man, was it good for a laugh.
Far too amused by it all, Gladio then took things a step further, acting as though he was offering up Iris. "Don't worry, I'll appease the mighty dragon with a virgin sacrifice."
Neither Iris nor Ignis had shared in his amusement, prompting Gladio to promise to use Prompto instead next time.
Said gunman, who'd started filming the whole debacle halfway through, squawked in indignation – though he still played along on the following rescue mission.
It would be later that same day – if one could still divide the passage of time in this dark limbo they've entered into without a sun as "days" – that Cor accosted them at Lestallum's gates. "Anyone wanna explain to me why the last two shipments of refugees are treating Ignis like some kind of deity?"
Prompto's nervous laughter was both strained and highly incriminating. "Some mysteries aren't meant to be solved?"
At that moment one of the refugees approached with purposeful steps, making certain to bow respectfully in Ignis' direction before turning to address the marshal, "Sir, are you not an acolyte of the great dragon? How must we worship him?"
Cor pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fix this," he demanded.