Get in time traveller

[warmgaze]

[Altissia. The ring, burning into his finger, burning into his skull, and he knows the price without asking, knows before it's paid. The thing you value most, isn't that always how this works in fairytales?

Ravus. Noctis. Ardyn, and that little revelation barely enters his mind at the time, the familiar glowing signature of a warp in an unfamiliar color. The prophecy, the visions that hang in his mind, a last wish from a woman who spent her life to ensure it, Lunafreya's final message to ensure that Noctis would survive.

The last clear words he can remember clearly, You've a calling to fulfill, and then Prompto and Gladio's voices, concerned, in a blur...

And then nothing. Just the feeling of a ring's power, setting him alight from fingertips to crown -

It's still in him, that power. The ring of the Lucii binds to its wearers for life, knotting strands of light into their souls, be they kings or anyone else.

(He had expected to die. Living is harder.)

And in the depths of his unconsciousness, in the place where he knows the things that he hasn't had time to consider, Noctis and Ardyn and prophecy and all of that terrible weight -

From there, from the connection of the fire in his soul that will never go out, that can only be smothered and locked away in the dark, a voice says, what would you give to change fate?

And, of course, he answers, Anything.

----

In another world, Ignis Scientia wakes in Altissia, his face scarred, his vision burned away, and continues on.

In this one, Prompto Argentum enters the room just in time to see a flare of purple flame lick along his friend's body and leave nothing behind, not even a char mark on the wrinkled sheets.

And Ignis?

Ignis wakes, with a groan and a hand pressed to his face, in the back of a cart that trundles to a stop to pick up another passenger, a young healer with cheeks not yet sunken by pain and eyes not yet yellowed by plague. He wakes bereft, on some fundamental level, of the touch of magic that bound him to Noctis, the hum of energy that bound retainer to prince...

He wakes with the imprint of a ring on his finger, the memory of agreeing, and not the damnedest idea where he is.]

Comments

[warmgaze]

I imagine he's likely saving the thorough questioning for later. It's what I would do.

[If it was Noctis coming home with not quite explicable injuries and a mysterious stranger, that is.]

I find I'm growing prone to repeating myself, but it seems at least one more 'thank you' is due.

[burninglight]

[Ardyn just shook his head, glancing away.]

You truly have no need to thank me. This is just...my purpose.

[warmgaze]

[Now isn't that a strange sentiment. All the more so because it's familiar, because Ignis knows what it means to have a calling.

The thought makes the last words he can remember hearing in his own time stick in his mind again.]

That doesn't mean you deserve no thanks for it.

[burninglight]

I don't need gratitude just for doing the right thing.

[warmgaze]

You acted at harm to yourself, not to mention potential awkwardness.

[Speaking of potential awkwardness, his name is Izunia and by the sound of footsteps he's coming back. What perfect timing to cut off Ardyn protesting thanks any further.]

It's hardly grand, but the sheets are clean. Use it as long as you like.

Thank you. Your family has extended me a great kindness.

[Izunia shakes his head slightly as he sits down, grabbing the red-wrapped sandwich from the pile.]

I may not have Ardyn's gifts, but I'll not turn out someone in need, either. Stay as long as you need.

[burninglight]

R...right. We're hardly lacking in space, so you're more than welcome for however long you wish.

[he's fine this is fine.]

[warmgaze]

[He's called out and fearing for his life is what he is. Meanwhile Ignis serenely eats his sandwich as though nothing was said while Izunia was out of the room.]

That goes for you too, Ardyn. Don't think I've missed how healing always exhausts you.

[You're going to regret letting these two meet.

For now, Izunia placidly unwraps and bites into his sandwich, as though the strength of the peppers in it can't be felt throughout the whole room.]

[burninglight]

And don't think I've missed that eating like that is going to kill you one of these days.

[warmgaze]

You've no room to talk, your morning cup is more sugar than coffee.

[Ignis, in the background, makes a face that screams 'OH THANK GODS THEY HAVE COFFEE.']

[burninglight]

At least that can't hurt anyone, I can smell that from over here.

[weirded out by the future eldritch horror bickering with his brother yet, ignis?]

[warmgaze]

[Izunia is about to reply, but the moment is, in fact, interrupted by Ignis setting his wrapper down and standing up.

Wobblingly. But he's standing.]

Do you need help?

No, thank you, but I think I can manage.

[He needs to get away from. This. And sort his mind out.

... As though he's not going to be asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, but. In the morning.

Off he goes, one hand grazing the wall for support, to rest.]

[burninglight]

[Mornings were for people who were not Ardyn Lucis Caelum.]

[Who, the very next day, shuffled into the kitchen towards the coffee machine like the walking dead gravitated towards human targets. With just as much bumping into counters for how hi eyesight hadn't exactly recovered yet.]

[Don't mind him, Ignis, he's trying.]

[warmgaze]

[No, that's perfectly okay, because Ignis is also something of a zombie. Though he bumps into counters significantly less, in spite of this being Ardyn's home and not his. His movements are carefully measured, and he glances around regularly to make use of what vision he has...

Just don't ask him to talk, yet, because he's staring at that coffee machine with intent. A man lost in the desert discovers a spring kind of intent.]

[burninglight]

[Ardyn rubbed at his good eye with a yawn, shambling around the kitchen to set a pot of coffee brewing.]

[So far, he seemed to be completely oblivious to Ignis' presence whatsoever. Morning-afternoons, am I right?]

[warmgaze]

[Eventually Ignis will manage a couple of words - ]

...Black, please.

[And with that he's gonna just. Slump into one of the living room chairs until it's done.]

[scourgingstars]

Hm...? [Ardyn blinked at Ignis as if processing his general presence, stifling another yawn behind his hand.]

Oh...yes, of course.

[warmgaze]

Thank you.

[Coffee. Coffee will get him functional again. By then, perhaps he'll have some actual coherent questions to ask, other than the ones that would immediately give him away as out-of-place.

You know, like "what's the date," "where am I," and "what turned you from this into something so bitter and dark?"]

[burninglight]

[Just a bit later, Ardyn set a cup of black coffee in front of Ignis and sat down with one of his own, which had far too much cream and sugar to be decently called coffee at all.]

...good morning.

[warmgaze]

[He just grunts and takes the cup. No talking until coffee is guzzled.

Not exactly Ebony, but not bad, either. When about half the cup is gone, he finally manages - ]

I think it's closer to afternoon.

[burninglight]

Probably.

[He stifled another yawn, setting down his own mostly-empty mug.]

Are you feeling well?

[warmgaze]

As well as can be expected.

[Not actively suffering, but the burns haven't entirely stopped aching, either.]

And you?

[burninglight]

Oh, I'm quite fine.

[you know, like a liar.]

[warmgaze]

I somehow doubt that.

[But, for having not yet had an entire cup of coffee, his expression passes for a smile.]

[burninglight]

[Ardyn laughed softly, the awkward smile on his face one that Ignis had no doubt seen a distant echo of on Noctis, an eternity in the future.]

I'll be alright. There's nothing you need to worry about.

[warmgaze]

There's not terribly much I can do save worry.

[He sets the cup down to press a hand to his bad eye, which still aches almost unabatedly.]

If you'd hoped to keep the nature of your power secret, you shouldn't have returned to me even this much vision.