Get in time traveller
[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.]
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.]
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[Ardyn seemed to light up a little, eager like the child he still was on some level.]
Would you like to see mine?
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[Two-handed swords... There aren't many of the known Royal Arms, even the lost ones, that fit that description.]
Though perhaps wait a moment, this is almost done.
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[He said that cheerfully, obviously having touched upon one of his several favorite subjects.]
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[Where do you hide your flat ceramics my boy.]
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Silverware's the drawer to your left.
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[And a couple of forks and some serving later, they have eggs! And Izunia's muffins, and that second cup of coffee.
Breakfast accomplished.]</small
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Goodness, you're quite the astounding cook.
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[But he does smile warmly at the compliment. It's always nice to be appreciated.]
This is hardly anything special, but it's probably about what I'm capable of at the moment.
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[Ideally, after he finds out if there's corrective lenses here of any sort that will actually help with what remains of his vision.
For now, he pauses to take another drink of the coffee. It's not Ebony, but it's certainly nice and strong - no doubt because Ardyn wouldn't be able to feel it otherwise, with how much cream and sugar Ignis saw him dumping in.]
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[A forkful of eggs, which, honestly, they're rapidly disappearing. He still hasn't gotten nearly enough to eat in the last 48 hours, and has to work to pace himself.]
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Some sort of small get-together, at the very least.
[Oops, there goes the last of his muffin. He sets the plate to the side for now and nurses the end of his coffee.]
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[for two skinny kids, they sure do eat like black holes]
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So, that sword of yours?
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It's nothing terribly impressive, but it's a dear thing all the same.
[He held out his hand, and in a flurry of crystal...what was unmistakably the Blade of the Mystic appeared in his grip. One-handed, as if it weighed nothing at all.]
What do you think?
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Ignis finds himself reaching out, pausing just short - and then strokes the blade down the middle, delicately, letting his fingers capture the details his vision is too blurry to make out.]
It's beautiful.
[This blade, practically cradled against the Archaean, which Ardyn himself would someday guide them to...
He should have known.]
You're always full of surprises, aren't you?
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Would you like to hold it? It's a bit heavy.
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[And if Ardyn allows him, he does, handling the blade with careful skill - greatswords are hardly his weapon of choice, but he knows how to move one around even if he can hardly use it. There's a certain degree of familiarity in his movements; rather than being surprised by the weight of the blade, it weighs as it should.
He keeps his expression carefully relaxed, because the other alternative is let the tears flow. Noctis is beyond his reach, and yet, he too is here, in this blade, one of the arms he had favored through it all.
Would he still have favored it, had he known?]
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Often people expect those who wield two-handed blades to be taller or built a bit heavier. Or at least that's what I usually hear when people see me with it.
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[Gladio is just built like a brick shithouse instead of a heap of twigs. It's a fond thought.
On the other hand, if Ardyn is not as remarkably tall in this time period as he is in the time Ignis was born into... Goodness, that might yet make Ignis himself short. What a thought.
He turns the blade over, one hand holding the hilt to keep it up at an angle while he runs the other hand across the detailing, the familiar single wing and crossguard.]
Pity I can't see this one properly.
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[Ardyn at twentysomething didn't seem too much taller than Ignis himself; apparently, corruption came with a growth spurt.]
Ah--that's right, we'll need to do something about that for the pair of us. Glacian's mercy, a savior wearing glasses...what are people going to think?
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[Because if this is the Blade of the Mystic - the Founder - then what did invisible Izunia use? Perhaps that will slot in some other piece of the puzzle.]
And I think they shall learn to deal with it perfectly well. It might even make you look more mature - at least, that's what people always said about mine. Though I daresay I'm going to need a thicker lens, now, that may yet ruin the effect.
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[Ardyn shrugged, and if the idea of wearing glasses bothered him at all he let it drop.]
Now, I'm sure you'll look just fine. There's no need to worry.
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