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]

Get me some coffee and I'll be good to saddle up.

[Just, you know. coffee.]

[burninglight]

Of course--however could I forget?

[Thank goodness for the Armiger, the ultimate coffee machine.]

[warmgaze]

[It's still not ebony, but he's gotten used to it. Good morning, coffee.]

Mmm. You're a miracle worker, healing aside.

[burninglight]

[Laughing, Ardyn swept into an exaggerated bow with only some of the dramatics he'd have two thousand years to learn.]

I am ever at your most humble service.

[warmgaze]

Of course. Nothing more than an impatient traveller, after all.

[In two thousand years you will understand that joke.]

[burninglight]

Perhaps just a little. I only wish not to waste time, that's all.

[warmgaze]

I'll be along shortly, never fear.

[Handwaves them aggressively into the road.]

[burninglight]

[awaaaaay]

[Ardyn did seem in a bit of a hurry to reach their destination; though he stopped short of outright rushing Ignis or his own chocobo, the faint signs of agitation were clear in just about everything he did.]

...It shouldn't be too much longer.

[warmgaze]

[Ignis kept up with the pushing fairly well - if anything, he wound up habitually scouting ahead fifteen or twenty feet before circling back around, an eye open for hazards or monsters.

Once again, it's clear that Ardyn managed to find someone with experience.]

No, perhaps another mile or so. Shall we push on, and break for lunch when we arrive?

[burninglight]

I'd like that, yes. Although perhaps I'll break a bit later; I imagine I'll have quite a bit of work to get started on once we get there.

[warmgaze]

You'll need the energy and you know it. Don't force me to hunt you down with another sandwich.

[Mom's here, the disregarding your own health party is over.]

[burninglight]

I'll be fine, Ignis. Really, I've been doing this long enough to have some grasp of my limits.

[warmgaze]

And I'll be there to remind you that you should be pushing your limits at the end of the day, not the minute you start out.

[burninglight]

...Just don't worry so much and let me handle things.

[warmgaze]

Not possible, I'm afraid.

[But into town they go!]

[burninglight]

[Into town they went indeed--it was a vastly smaller settlement than the city they had come from. Ardyn was met almost as if he were already royalty, nearly every single person clearly knowing him on sight alone. Few actually used his name; it was almost always 'sir', 'Your Highness', 'Your Grace', or other epithets and titles of varying high respect. Ardyn met them all with faintly awkward smiles, obviously not knowing how to respond.]

[His work was perhaps different than he'd made it sound; it wasn't strictly injuries he dealt with, after all. Gilgamesh directed them to a gathering of ailing civilians before returning to fortify the town's defenses, and Ardyn put himself to work quickly.]

[The black marks upon the townspeople's skin was unmistakable, symptoms of the daemonic and incurable in varying states of severity. But Ardyn greeted each and every one with a compassionate smile and gentle touch; he'd speak softly as he worked, asking their names and listening to them talk all while the gold light in his hands drained the scourge from them as easily as water off of a chocobo's feathers.]

[And though he worked tirelessly well into the day, not a single trace of exhaustion showed on his face; so long as any of the townspeople were in sight Ardyn kept smiling as if this was the only thing in the world which made him truly happy.]

[warmgaze]

[And while Gilgamesh went back to the fort, the townspeople found that Ignis was as Ardyn's second shadow - a newcomer with a foreign accent, who gently refused any offers of help for himself but gently pressed a glass of water into Ardyn's hands at regular intervals.

Strangely, he seemed more at ease with the formality than Ardyn, and accepted the "sir" that followed him after the first half an hour without any hint of awkwardness.

And a couple hours in, sure enough - ]

Here you go.

[ - is one sandwich, as promised.]

[burninglight]

Thank you. [Ardyn gave Ignis a small smile; up close it was a little less difficult to see he'd lost some color in his face. He barely paused to eat the sandwich, rather like a behemoth would eat a chickatrice in a single breath.]

[And...well, back to work, barely even missing a step.]

[warmgaze]

[And Ignis settles back into the shadows, not quite off-stage but far from the center that is Ardyn's domain. And he watches as the black lifts beneath golden light, and wonders why it doesn't reappear on Ardyn's own skin.

Does it remain beneath? Is that why -

The realization would jerk him off his feet, if he didn't have the face of Royal Advisor plastered on already. As it is, it simply makes him frown, which is perhaps worse.

Ardyn Izunia didn't show any signs of the dark power within him, either - a troubling aura and unnaturally colored eyes, but nothing to suggest what he was, what he had to be.

Is this how the Accursed happens? No evil plan, but simply a young man doing his best, taking all of the curses he can reach into himself, where no one will see them until they split him open from the inside?

Whenever it is that Ardyn finishes for the day, he will find Ignis still lurking in the doorway, frowning at these thoughts.]

[burninglight]

[If it did reappear on Ardyn's skin, it would have be hard to tell. While he hadn't yet adopted the multiple layers he would soon enough, he already tended toward long sleeves and high collars.]

[Largely unaware of Ignis' mood, Ardyn saw the last of the formerly afflicted off with a wave and kind farewell, turning to his friend with a tired smile and normal-toned hazel eyes.]

There's an inn just a short walk from here I usually stay when I come here. Shall we? You must be terribly exhausted, we've been at this nearly all day.

[warmgaze]

[And he does, slyly, check the eye color, but - no, it must have been far more than a single day's worth to create Ardyn Izunia. That man is at least ten years this Ardyn's senior.

Ten years - how many people would he heal, how many curses would he take on, in that time?]

Not at all. You did near all of the exhausting part, I'm just your support staff.

[burninglight]

And you've done a spectacular job.

[Still red hair that hadn't yet warped to violet, still hazel eyes that weren't yet unnatural yellow. It was still a human that took Ignis by the hand and led him along the town streets, albeit a pale and tired one.]

[warmgaze]

[And a still-troubled Ignis that lets himself be led through the streets, though he manages a smile for most of the people who stop them on the way.

Eventually, on the other side of a brief meal, they're alone in the room, and it's then that Ignis turns on Ardyn with a question that cuts to the bone - ]

Your powers - they don't work any differently on the scourge than they do on other injuries, do they.

[Or, really, it's not so much a question as a request for confirmation.]

[burninglight]

[And perhaps for the first time, the smile on Ardyn's still pale and tired face looked very much like it was concealing something.]

That's not something you need to worry about.

[warmgaze]

[He knows a fucking dodge when he sees one, Ardyn, he was tutored for politics.]

So that's a yes. Are you infectious yourself?

[Let Ardyn think that that's what he's worried about.]