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]

You are too kind, truly.

[Also how many conversations like that are they going to have?]

...What is there for breakfast?

[burninglight]

I'm not sure, actually--Izunia does most of the cooking, he surely made something or other earlier.

[let's just. poke around the kitchen a lttile.]

[warmgaze]

[Well, if that's an invitation to be nosy, he'll definitely be -

Dear Astrals this entire shelf is full of various kinds of dried peppers in jars. Who the hell needs this many peppers. Izunia Lucis Caelum is an absurd human being.]

I'm a decent hand in the kitchen myself, under normal circumstances. If he hasn't left anything, I'm sure between the two of us, we can manage.

[burninglight]

...Is this a bad time to point out I don't know how to cook?

[warmgaze]

I'd gotten that impression, actually. But if you can follow directions, we should be able to manage at least eggs on toast or some such.

[Or - oh, hey, this breadbox contains mostly muffins. That's a start. Thanks, past Izunia.]

[burninglight]

I'm a mechanic, following directions is what I do best.

[warmgaze]

It looks like we've got the carbohydrates covered, at least. But given our combined condition, we should really at least make an effort to find protein...

[Is this what passes for a fridge in Solheim? Apparently so because it's chilly on the inside.

...Ha, sweet victory.]

Eggs or sausages?

[burninglight]

...Eggs sound good. Far more versatile, as far as I know.

[warmgaze]

Eggs it is. How do you like them?

[This is so surreal and he's just going with it, carefully taking the container of eggs in hand and setting it on the counter.]

[burninglight]

Surprise me, I suppose--I defer to your apparent expertise.

[warmgaze]

Scrambled is likely easiest with my vision in this condition. Could you get me a bowl, salt, pepper, and... hmm, perhaps a tomato if you have one handy?

[burninglight]

[Ardyn frowned in such a way that it was clear he took issue with the very existence of tomatoes, but was too kind a person to criticize a guest.]

Of course I can.

[Resigning himself to a fate worse than death, he turned and started arranging everything on the counter.]

[warmgaze]

[Don't worry, Ardyn, you'll barely be able to taste it.

Ignis takes a minute to run through the drawers instead, finally locating a well-used whisk and taking up a paring knife from the knifeblock. Once he gets started, cracking eggs with one hand on the rim of the bowl, it's readily apparent that he's practiced at this to the point that he almost doesn't need to look.

A fortunate thing, given the circumstances.]

[burninglight]

[Ardyn, meanwhile, watched in a way that was only a few steps from hovering; while he wasn't quite staring, there was a clear interest on his face.]

[warmgaze]

[Lots of egg! Whisk egg. Chop tomato, tomato chunks into egg. Little salt, little pepper, whisk it some more.

this is how you make scrambled eggs right i don't know i don't actually eat eggs]

Frying pan?

[burninglight]

[meh]

Oh--right, of course. [That, he pulled out of the Armiger in a quick flash of red.]

...don't tell Izunia I had that.

[ardyn, what the hell.]

[warmgaze]

[He should have realized, of course, after Izunia's trick with the sandwich last night, but it still startles him a little. Thankfully, it will probably pass as surprise at the casual use of magic, rather than at the Armiger in particular.

That will take some getting used to.

(He misses Noctis.)]

Of course. But dare I ask why, if you don't cook?

[burninglight]

...Reasons.

[And that came with the telltale look of 'ridiculous things that I will be lectured for'.]

[warmgaze]

Do tell.

[And that in turn comes with a telltale look of 'I'm not going to forget this conversation so don't even try to dodge it.'

The frying pan, meanwhile, goes onto the stove to get warm.]

[burninglight]

Oh, you know. Experimenting with new and unconventional forms of weaponry.

...I did make sure to clean it after the fact.

[warmgaze]

...I almost feel I should have expected that.

[Just from knowing so much about the usual nature of Armiger users -

It doesn't occur to him, until after he's said it and once he's started pouring egg into the bowl, how strange that comment would sound from someone who has no reason to know of the Lucis Caelum tendency towards martial skill. Ignis is practiced enough at politics that it doesn't show on his face, and he continues to scrape the last bit of egg out of the bowl, but internally he's just. That was stupid.]

[burninglight]

...?

[Ardyn tilted his head in curious acknowledgement of the statement, but for now chose to approach it from another angle.]

Astrals, I should hope not to come off as so violent that such a thing would be expected. Makes for a terrible healer.

[warmgaze]

Ah, no, of course not. I was simply reminded of a story I heard once of a housewife defending her family with such a 'weapon.'

[A thoughtful pause, as though making some effort to remember.]

Or perhaps it was a barmaid. Or perhaps there were multiple such stories. It's been some years.

[Nailed it.]

[burninglight]

Well, I'm certainly glad that's all it is.

[he's not convinced.]

[warmgaze]

[As long as he's too polite to call it out, that's fine. The truth is far too unbelievable to guess, after all.]

If you're experimenting with weaponry, I take it you have some ability to defend yourself, at least.

[Starting to smell like egg in here.

Better find out what he fights with when he isn't just kicking people in the gut and throwing scourgey magics at them.]