awashlogs | We walk with smiles like chalk, quick to wash off

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We walk with smiles like chalk, quick to wash off

Who: Prompto, Noctis, and Ignis.
Where: Bluohaus, chocob(r)o room.
When: May 15th, once Prompto gets safely escorted to the chocopile.
What: Prompto has some bad news from the future.
Warnings: FFXV spoilers out the wazoo.

[It's not exactly that he's putting off telling them. He really does want a shower and dry clothes and something to eat, after the--day? week?--the extended length of an incredibly hard time he's been having recently, and he could use a break. And maybe it'd be okay if the break lasted until tomorrow. Until he's had some sleep, too.

For the first time ever, though, the thought of not telling his friends everything makes his guts churn worse. So he sighs, pulls up his big boy pants--actually, clothes he's borrowing from Noct, and he knows he could have gotten one of his other outfits from the Armiger but Noct offered--and takes a seat. This time he's huddled up with Ignis's chocobo; Prompto's gotta spread his affection equally, after all.]

So. [So. Prompto fidgets, sighs, then half-laughs, though it's not an entirely happy sound.] Man, I don't even know where to start, guys. What's the last thing you two remember?

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[ Noctis gives him the time he needs to recover -- shower, food, sleep, aware that Prompto desperately needs it; his best friend is not in good shape, and he doesn't mean just physically. Emotionally and mentally, too; something's wrong, and he cannot help but hover close however he can, tense despite himself.

So now, when things are better, when he's slept with them and cuddled and showered and fed, Noctis settles in for the inevitable, a curl of dread twisting in the pit of his stomach. ]

Altissia. I was walking down one of the streets after the negotiation.

[Prompto seems to be perking up a bit, following their getting him back to the house and helping to settle him in after his ordeal with the well and the rainstorm. There's an overt attempt to make him as comfortable as possible, and it shows; perhaps Noctis and Ignis are doting a little overmuch, but it's hard to imagine doing anything but with Prompto looking in the condition he's in, and the lingering knowledge that he knows what lies ahead of them for the next few weeks because he's already lived through it himself.

This will be the second time Noct is a part of a conversation like this, which Ignis regrets; it's the first time he himself has been on this particular side of it, which...suddenly, he has a great deal more empathy for how he'd made Noct feel, keeping secrets even when the aim of those secrets was ultimately for his overall benefit.

He's broken into the armiger explicitly for this conversation, raiding the foodstuffs he's been hoarding for special occasions and emergencies only, and passes around to Prompto and Noctis two mugs of hot cocoa with cinnamon before finding a seat and easing down himself.]

Altissia, the day after Noct. I was —

[Calm down. Objective facts. Slow and easy.]

I was on the altar following the ceremony. A squad of MTs had just taken the premises. Noct was unconscious, Ravus was out of commission, and the chancellor was...talking to me.

[That's close enough.]

Oh, man...

[Biting his lip, Prompto stares down into his mug like maybe it'll do the talking for him. No such luck, though.]

I guess I gotta start there, huh? Altissia...

[He hunches over the mug, not drinking, not blowing on it, just waiting for it to cool on its own as he taps a fingernail against the side.]

I... I don't know exactly what happened to you guys then, because Gladio and I got split up from Iggy. We were doing all we can to get to the altar, too, but with everything in chaos like it was, and fighting, and trying to find a boat...

Ardyn was already gone. Ravus left without doing anything to us, but... but both of you were on the ground. I thought...

[He stops. Gulps, eyes closed, then shakes his head.]

You were both alive. But... Iggy was hurt pretty bad.

[ Noctis hunches down over his own hot cocoa -- this has always been a delicious treat for bad days; Ignis has always had a knack for making this when they most needed it, and today seems like a prime candidate for that. He's not looking at either of them, listening to what unfolds as dread curls in the pit of his stomach, a tight knot.

Luna, dead. It's one thing for Ignis to say it -- as much as Noctis trusts Ignis, he still holds out hope that things had turned out differently, maybe. But then Prompto corroborates fills in the other part of the story, tells him also that Ignis was hurt badly, and his heart sinks.

He looks up, frowning. ]

Hurt badly? Hurt how?

[ He doesn't ask for himself, it hasn't occurred to him to, and the tone of Prompto's voice makes his chest ache. Another person he couldn't help -- one more loved one to add to the list. ]

[But Noct was alive. Thank the Six for Prompto, for knowing the important thing to confirm right from the start. Noct is alive, Noct's alive, the empire didn't take him and he'd done away with the chancellor. That's more than enough to warrant whatever injury he must've taken in the process. He served, and Noct lived, and Ardyn is gone.]

I rather expected it would come to a fight, with the way things transpired. I can't see any other way it could've done.

[He's going to regret that choice of phrasing, in a minute.]

It's...all right, Prompto. In exchange for eliminating the threat that the chancellor posed to Noct and to all of us...I can accept whatever happened to me. It's all right.

[It's not all right. It's about as far from right as anything can be, and Prompto looks up at Ignis with the dismayed surprise of missing a stair and then glances helplessly at Noct. There aren't enough apologies in the world to encompass how sorry he is, how deep he's sinking into the sorrow of it all.]

It's... not exactly... he's not, uh.

[Who better to know exactly how alive and kicking Ardyn Izunia is than the latest plaything he's discarded in his long, vengeful game? Prompto tucks himself in smaller, knees to his chest, elbows pulled in, head down.]

Ardyn's not dead. He's the only one left from Niflheim's side, but. But I don't think there's anything any of us can do about him, not without Noct.

[The breath he takes is long and audibly shaky.]

Gladio and I both tried, later, and he walked it off like it was nothing. And Iggy... Iggy, he blinded you.

[ Noctis meets Prompto's eyes, and oh, what he sees there makes him want to reach out to tell him it's fine, the same way Ignis did because of all of them, Prompto is the most sensitive, the one with the biggest, kindest heart. His best friend looks so helpless and sorry, what can he do?

His grip tightens on the mug when he hears about Ardyn -- he hasn't had much info on him other than the fact that the dude is naturally their enemy, being Chancellor and all. Was he the one who led the attack on Altissia?

Noctis has so many questions, but he immediately stiffens when he hears what Prompto says about Ignis, about what he did -- and his gaze narrows, a deepset surprise, horror and anger lighting up in his heart. Ardyn blinded Ignis. Why? ]

What...?

[He's glad, suddenly, that he didn't make himself a mug of anything for the duration of this conversation, because it means he doesn't have anything in his fingers to fumble and drop.

Ardyn's not dead.

He can all but feel the color draining from his face as his traitorous tactician's mind immediately begins spinning out the implications, working overtime to process this new information and contextualize it and evaluate the ramifications. Ardyn isn't dead, but he would've killed him if he'd succeeded, which means he must've failed. They fought and he failed, and so Ardyn defeated him, and blinded him, and let him live.

Why did he let him live? Why wouldn't he kill him, if he had him defeated and at his mercy? Why leave him alive?

The answer comes all too easily, really. Perhaps killing him would've been too swift, too quick a resolution. He'd simply blinded him and left him for his friends to find, unable to fight, unable to defend Noctis — useless.

What an ironic echo it's proven to be, that day that Gladio told Prompto how he doesn't really need his glasses, save that he likes to see the world in perfect clarity. Gods — he'd been driving that day, how can he drive without — how can he cook, how can he serve, how can he —]

...Ah...

[So that's why Prompto had been startled when he'd first seen him. It hadn't been surprise that he'd been there. It'd been surprise that he could see him back.]

I. ...I s—

[Before he can finish that remark, the unthinking irony of it hits him, and he goes even paler, before turning a sort of horrible, blotchy red that quickly drains away.]

...I understand.

[Prompto flinches even though--because Iggy corrected himself. Because all that anger and hurt in Noct has nowhere to go but at himself, even though everything's Ardyn's fault, like it always is. He's seen it. He's heard it in Noct's voice ripped raw with grief.]

I'm sorry.

[His own voice has gone small.]

I didn't think it would be fair not to tell you guys.

It's not your fault.

[ Noctis says, his voice brittle. Another one he's dragged into the crossfire. Prompto, and Ignis, Ignis, who looks like someone punched the air out of his sails and came back around to do it again for good measure. This is the first time he's seen Ignis like this, stunned and vulnerable and more human than anything else -- and Noctis failed him.

Prompto, his voice heavy with sorrow, and Noctis fails him, too. The cup of hot cocoa is forgotten in the wake of both of their reactions, when Ignis is clearly reeling from the truth Prompto reveals to them. What lies ahead in their future is bleak and dark, not least of which all that's happened to them. To him, to Ignis, who has served so faithfully for so long, who has been by their side, loyal and devoted and competent.

Ignis, without his sight -- what terrible devastation it must be. Had Ardyn left him alive because it hurts more? Noctis doesn't know, but at least Ignis is alive.

In this moment, Noctis knows he has to step up. He has to do something; he's going to be the king, right? And if Ignis and Prompto need this time to recover, then Noctis has to pull his own weight -- he's been a failure long enough.

He takes a deep breath. If only he were stronger, if only he were there to protect them. Ignis, from having his sight stolen. Prompto, from being beat up and hurt and full of sorrow. ]

I can still stop all that from happening, now that I know, right? I can save all of you; it'll be like it never happened. [ But first, he has to get stronger. ] What game is Ardyn playing at?

[His hands are shaking, for all that he's trying to keep control of himself — and he is, very much, trying to keep control of himself. He's got to be the bastion of rationality, the first line of defense for Noctis and Prompto against the chaos, and yet he's so shaken by the unexpected reality of his future that he can't seem to get himself back into a place where he can think straight.

He hears that Noct is speaking, except that he doesn't really hear it in any capacity that would let him understand what it means; there's just an odd sort of rushing in his ears, and the only thing that seems to keep coming back to the forefront of his mind is that he can't be reacting like this in front of the others, not when they need him to be better than this.

His hands feel numb. His fingertips are buzzing with pins and needles, like they've gone immediately to sleep, and he doesn't know how to wake them up.]

Prompto.

[He's aware that Noct said something, but he's not really aware of what it was. He'll catch up eventually, maybe, but right now there's this to contend with, too.]

You said you were separated from us. What happened?

[It takes Prompto a second to recalibrate, strung between Noct's promise and Iggy's... gods, Iggy's everything. Without thinking, he reaches over and puts his hand on Ignis's foot. Even though this Ignis hasn't had the weeks of darkness to get used to Prompto touching him, he's still Ignis. Still Iggy. He nods at both of them, first Noct, then Ignis, emotional but tasked to report.]

Um... we stayed in Altissia for a while, then headed up north into the Empire to get the Crystal and collect more Royal Arms. It... took a while for you to get used to fighting without looking, but you were really starting to get the hang of it, Iggy.

[Because that's important for him to know. They didn't, won't, and will never leave Ignis behind; he has more right to stand by Noct than any of them, Prompto knows that in his bones. Message delivered, he nods and stares into his cocoa once more.]

But then... [Ah. This is harder to get words around. Prompto waffles a lot longer before he finally speaks again.] Ardyn attacked the train on the way to Tenebrae, with MTs. I, uh. I got knocked off in the confusion.

[All of that is technically true. He releases Ignis's foot and lifts his mug but doesn't drink, almost hiding behind it.]

I-it's a long story, but I ended up teaming up with Aranea for a little bit to take out this Imperial research base in the north. She's on our side now. We--we killed the guy who invented MTs. But after the two of us split up...

[It's kind of hard to get his lungs to work. Prompto manages anyway.]

I got captured. A-Ardyn caught me, that's how I got hurt. [As he breathes, something occurs to him, and he lifts his head slightly, focused on the middle distance.] And he used me as bait to get you to the place where the Crystal was, even though of course you were already headed there...

[Prompto looks to Noct.]

You asked me what game Ardyn's playing. I-I don't know, but that's definitely what he wanted to happen. He wanted you to hurry to the Crystal. He knew what would happen if you touched it.

[ This is a lot. All of this is a lot, and he doesn't miss the way Prompto reaches for Ignis, like he's reassuring him even though Prompto probably needs the lion's share of the reassurance himself.

But where Prompto reaches out, Noctis withdraws. It's a thing with him, when things get too heavy too quickly, when everything comes crashing down on him at once. Ignis looks stricken and pale, more vulnerable than he's ever seen him, and it's chilling just how young Ignis looks, that underneath all the hypercompetence there is just a young man barely a handful of years older than him.

And Prompto, who is more resilient, more courageous than he lets on. He got hurt, too; they both did, and Noctis bites his lip. He rests his hand briefly on Ignis' shoulder, then Prompto's, and turns away from them as if this could keep his own anguish, his anger and rage and his own helplessness at bay.

All he can do now is listen.

Ardyn wants him in the crystal for some reason, Ardyn hurt Ignis and Prompto to get it, and for their sakes Noctis would do just about anything. He closes his eyes, looking out the window in silence as his hands curl into fists. ]

Yeah.

[ He says at last, soft and probably unhelpful, but what can he say? What can he do at this point? Ignis is reeling and Prompto is licking his wounds -- two of the people he loves the most in the world, hurt on his account.

This was never supposed to happen. ]

I have to stop all of it.

[At first, his reaction to what Prompto says is raw, bristling indignation as his side commentary seems to poke an already bleeding wound — you were really starting to get the hang of fighting without looking, Iggy, as though there's just a knack to it, as though he didn't lose the better part of a decade's worth of rigorous and meticulous training all in one fell swoop and now he's, evidently, "getting the hang of it" again. It's patronizing and placating and dismissive and —

...

And Prompto has never been one to embody any of those things, which is the realization that makes him stop and take a second look at the commentary, and try to see whatever it is he's missed at the first pass.

It takes him a good minute before he gets it. It's not the content of what Prompto is saying, but the implication — that if he's fighting at all, regardless of quality, then he didn't give up and roll over at a setback even as monumental as the one he's going to suffer. Maybe that's just how Prompto phrases things, inelegant and slangy and imprecise. He's trying to say you aren't useless, as though he knows deep down that a fear of being so would be the first place Ignis's mind went, upon this news.

It's selfish, really, that he takes so long dwelling on that part of it, but perhaps if there were ever a time when he's earned the right to be selfish, it's in a moment like this. Perhaps no one would begrudge him that.

Still.

It's the second part, the one about Prompto's experiences in detail, where things get really interesting. The bit about the train explains the injuries and the bruising, at first; to hear that Aranea has both defected and acted in Prompto's defense is...oddly reassuring, somehow. Prompto was captured by Ardyn —

That's how I got hurt, he says, and Ignis thinks, I should have killed him.

But then, beautiful boy that he is, Prompto drops a remark that suddenly sends the entire story into clarity — the keystone of the arch, the notion that suddenly supports all the other evidence that he hadn't known how to fit together until then:

He used me as bait. He wanted you to hurry to the Crystal.]

Prompto...

[He sounds absentminded now, distant, but not stricken the way he'd been a moment ago. He's thinking furiously, mind racing, implications snowballing together in a cacophony of reason.]

You found me in Altissia. I was on the altar, with Noct...?

[Why don't you abandon that flotsam and come with me?

He left them both on the altar, one blinded, one unconscious. He's watched Ardyn's knife glistening in the air over Noct's throat every night for weeks and yet — he left Noct alone. Alive. He left Noct alive, to be found, to rush to the Crystal.

Why don't you come with me?

Where would Ardyn have taken him? He used me as bait. And if he'd refused, if he'd resisted, if he'd insisted that he would never leave Noct, then they must've fought — and he'd lost, and was blinded.

And without an advisor to use as bait, he'd targeted a best friend, instead.]

...So that's it.

[Bait, he was looking for bait, abandon him and come with me and of course Noct would follow him if he did, of course Noct would run after him, because Noctis cries when he's not close and he's the only one left, his oldest retainer, the closest thing to family —

And with Lunafreya dead, of course Noct would make a hasty decision for the sake of not losing someone else he —]

...Bloody bastard, so that's what he was up to.

[Prompto ping-pongs between the two of them, Ignis with his mysterious revelation and Noctis's brooding protag moment, and sets his untouched mug down before him on the floor.]

What are either of you talking about?

[This time, the one he reaches for is Noct. Prompto catches his sleeve, though he addresses Ignis first, frowning in consternation and confusion both as he tries to hop onto whatever bullet train of thought's speeding him away.]

Iggy, some of us are stupid. Explain what's got you so worked up, but like, in words we can all understand, please? And Noct.

[Prompto opens his mouth a couple times, but as the words fail to come, his expression gradually softens. Eventually, he shakes his head. He hasn't let go.]

Buddy. Chill. It's not all on you, okay? I didn't tell you that stuff so you could think it was, I want to help. [To both of them:] We're a team. We--we gotta be on the same page.

[ What?

Noctis stares over at Ignis blankly -- the thing is, Ignis has always been steps ahead of them; the man is one lab accident away from being a supervillain, which is why he's always had the uncontested role of being their strategist. But Noctis is battling one hell of a lot of thoughts and emotions, enduring a wave of guilt and heartache and self-recrimination, echoes of Tenebrae and Insomnia dogging his thoughts.

Too many people had gotten hurt, died because of him. And now the both of them, too.

He frowns when Prompto grabs his sleeve, keeps him there as he speaks up, always the most practical voice, pulling them back before they go too far. He sets his own cocoa aside, his appetite dissipating in the wake of somber news. ]

Help? Help how? I'm --

[ It comes out more sharply than intended; it's happened for Prompto, right? But it hasn't happened for Noctis, maybe if he goes back to his own time, if he's strong enough to fix this before it even cracks, maybe that's the key. He immediately regrets the tone, however, and immediately softens, his hand coming to rest on Prompto's as he takes a deep breath.

No, first of all. ]

What is it, Ignis?

Using us as bait for you, Noct.

[His fingers are making absentminded little circles on his knees, over and over again, keeping rhythm with the cadence of his voice, the flow of his thoughts.]

There were always too many of the chancellor's actions that seemed to make no sense, that followed no discernible motive. He helped us in scenarios where there was no apparent benefit to himself, and when he'd hardly had any reason to be altruistic toward us. But if his purpose all along was to entice you toward the crystal...

[He pauses, seeming to collect his thoughts, as though this next bit is difficult for him to say.]

He spoke with me. The very last thing I remember, before opening my ey— before waking up in the well here, was what the chancellor said to me.

[He flicks a glance at Noct.]

When the furniture was taunting us, Noct, do you recall? "Liar, liar, making deals with the devil." That one was about me. Because — what the chancellor said to me was, "why don't you abandon him, and come with me."

[He rakes a hand through his hair now, still thinking out loud.]

Prompto says he found us at the altar, so I imagine I must've refused. Not surprising; he'd be a fool to think I would ever leave you. But now I see what that was meant to accomplish. Prompto...I think I must've been his first attempt at baiting his lure. I refused, and he took my eyes for it. It stands to reason, then, that the reason he targeted you at all is...because he didn't succeed, with me.

[Prompto flinches and nearly lets go, but Noct's hand is an anchor in more ways than one. He searches Noct's face, finds nothing like anger aimed at him, and lets the tension wind out of him once more, staring at the floor as he listens to Ignis's analysis. Even then, held and reassured, he shudders.]

Iggy, no, that's...

[What Ignis is describing--a calculated, dispassionate stroll down the list of people important to Noct--well, it's not the kind of thing that makes any of them feel good, really. The thought that he's interchangeable with Ignis, that all of them are just strings to yank Noct around sinks cold and hard and indigestible in his stomach, like cold beans in a dark cave far, far from home.

Prompto lets go of Noct's sleeve but wraps his hand around his arm instead, as likely to hold onto him, to keep him from going anywhere, disappearing, as to steady himself.

It's disorienting, destabilizing, to be the second-best choice for a terrible trap. But Prompto likes even less the way Ignis looks as he says it. Like he messed up by doing the thing he of course should have done, by his oaths, by his upbringing, by who he is. The right thing.

Like if he'd done something else and got caught himself, that'd be better, somehow. Like it'd be better if he ended up on the cross.

Shivering, Prompto holds onto Noct and shakes his head like a dog shaking off cold water. His voice is a mumble.]

Even if that's true, I don't... I don't think that's the only thing.

[After all, Ardyn wouldn't have had nearly as much fun dumping Ignis on Verstael Besithia, would he? 'You've gone homicidal--no, patricidal!'

It just wouldn't have worked with anyone but him. Prompto shrinks on himself, shoulders bowed, and speaks towards the floor.]

There are a lot of reasons I make an easy target. [And, stronger, but without lifting his head:] It's not anybody's fault but Ardyn's. The important thing is, we gotta make sure you don't go into the Crystal, Noct. Or if you do, we have to have a way to get you out.

[It doesn't matter if it's already happened for Prompto. What matters is un-happening it, for this Noct, for Iggy's Noct, for every Noct at every point in every timeline.]

[ It's all a little too much to deal with at once. Ignis with his dispassionate calculations, even though Noctis knows that somewhere deep inside he's still reeling at the news -- there's no way that Prompto telling them that he's going blind won't reverberate, won't hang over him like a cloud.

And Prompto, oh. Prompto, who has been tasked with the thankless job of revealing this to them -- Prompto, who did it as earnestly as he can -- as he always does, setting aside his own trauma to somehow help them with theirs. They make quite the trio, don't they? Noctis is silent for a few moments, watching them. It's a strange feeling, these few seconds, disconnecting and looking back at all of this, like he's on the outside looking in.

Ardyn apparently wants him in the Crystal, and he doesn't care who he has to hurt to get it. Ignis confesses what goes down, how Ardyn had invited him along and Ignis refused -- and likely had gotten hurt for his trouble (had Ardyn blinded him?), which makes his fists clench, fingers digging into the meat of his palms. Noctis is still when his best, best friend holds on to him, sensing something's more wrong than he lets on, which is another unwelcome turn of events.

That Prompto readily says that he makes an easy target doesn't sit well with him -- it's no secret that Prompto has always been insecure, uncertain of himself, and Noctis often does the best he can to allay those fears, even if he isn't the best equipped person to do it. But he wants them to know -- he wants them to know that he will allow neither of them to be hurt on his watch, not anymore.

Words caught in his throat, Noctis lets the silence drag between them, uncertain of what to do. He looks down at the ring on his finger, returned to him by Nyx on the day he had ended up here, as if staring down at it could give him answers. ]

But why...? Why would he need me in there?

[Another good question, and one that still represents a blank space in the puzzle of pieces and facts he's begun to fit together. It's a little odd how comforting it is to simply sit and work the puzzle, examining each piece in turn, fitting it here and there to try to see what sort of secrets it holds for the greater whole. It's easier to work a puzzle than it is to cope with the horror of the revelation that he's going to lose his eyesight at Ardyn Izunia's hands. It's much easier to just distance himself from the personal connections of all of it and pick through the clean, cold facts with rationality that cuts like a knife.

It's better than thinking about how, in some capacity, whatever it was that happened to Prompto at the chancellor's hands is his fault. He should have been the bait, as intended. Then Prompto would never have had to be.

What a failure he'd been, in the choices he'd made.]

...Two questions, Prompto. See if you can recall for me, though it's all right if you can't.

[He barely remembers to temper his questioning with that slight reassurance, so inclined as he is to simply grasp for whatever information he can and avoid the emotional side of things as much as possible.]

First: do you recall who had possession of the Ring of the Lucii, at the time all this transpired? And second...how long were the days, when we reached the Crystal? How many hours of daylight?

[It's confusing for a second, the idea that anyone could have the Ring but Noct. But then Prompto remembers, they're from Altissia. Lady Lunafreya would've still had the Ring, at least when Noct was from, and Ignis wasn't from the end of it, either. He could believe maybe someone took it.

Prompto nods.]

Noct had the Ring. He's had it since Altissia. [This he addresses to Noct; unable to meet his eyes, Prompto ends up looking at the ring on his hand instead.] You were wearing it when... when you guys got me out of where he was keeping me.

[He finally pulls his hand away from Noct's arm and cradles the back of one wrist in the opposite palm.]

As for the daylight, um... when I was with Aranea, I think we got up around ten? And the sun was already setting by two. It was getting shorter, too, but after that, I, uh. Well, I didn't have a good way to track it inside.

[There weren't any windows in Zegnautus Keep.]

[ There were no windows where Prompto was. His gaze follows his best friend's movement, the words bringing with it a measure of dread -- the nights are longer, the days drawing short. Ignis is singularly capable of drawing out all the information they need as Noctis hangs back and listens, carefully watching the both of them as he fights not to reel from one revelation after another.

The ring seems deceptively light on his finger, he thinks, and where Ignis examines and cross-examines, Noctis only feels the weight of it all and simply nods, not knowing what to say. What can he say, when this all feels like it's going to shit around him? Ignis is putting things together in that familiar way of his, and Noctis wonders if this isn't him retreating in his own way, after all. ]

Are you hurt?

...Noctis had it...?

[That's — again, he has to recalibrate, overturning his own assumptions and reexamining the picture he'd thought he'd been constructing in light of new information that doesn't quite fit. So no one took it, then — not Ravus, not Ardyn. But why would Ardyn leave it, if it would mean that he would have both Crystal and ring?

...No, Ravus had caught on to the answer to that, hadn't he? The ring and Crystal are useless without someone who can use them, and the only one who can do that is Noct.

So Noct had the ring, and Ardyn hastened him to the Crystal, and according to Prompto it...swallowed him? Trapped him. Removed him from Eos, perhaps.

Took away the Chosen King of Light at a time when the days were already growing shorter, keeping him from the throne he needed to sit upon in order to banish the darkness.]

I think, Noct...that whatever the Chancellor was up to, it was a means of preventing you from achieving your destiny.

[But...if that's how it is, then why not just kill him when he had the chance...?]

[That seems odd and Prompto can't put his finger on why. He shakes his head instead, glancing at Noct so he can quietly assure him.]

I'm fine. Ignis gave me a potion.

[And once he was safe in the house, Prompto ducked away to take care of the rest of his injuries himself, so no one could linger too long over the marks of unmoving, unforgiving steel around his ribs, circling his wrists.

Now, he stares at the lines of his palm, cleaner and gentler than all the other lines his skin has borne, and finally ventures:]

But if he's trying to stop Noct, why did he take us through to Titan, back then...?

[Eventually, he groans and lets his face fall into his hands.]

I don't know, I don't understand what he's thinking at all--and I don't want to.

[ Reassured that Prompto is fine -- at least, physically, Noctis settles to tackle the biggest problem: Ardyn's purpose. None of it makes sense, least of which the actions of the crystal. ]

But it doesn't add up. The crystal is controlled only by -- well, this ring, right?

[ Why would a Niflheim Chancellor have any measure of control over it? He doesn't doubt that Ardyn was probably trying to thwart him from something, or so it looks like, and what Prompto says reinforces those doubts. Why would he take them through to Titan, then? What can he possibly mean to gain from that?

There are so many missing pieces of the puzzle that Noctis can't see the whole, and he looks back at the both of them, his gaze lingering on Prompto's wrists, Ignis' eyes. ]

Guess I just have to beat it out of him when I return.

[ He says grimly, after a pause. Beat it out of him, and then some. ]

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We walk with smiles like chalk, quick to wash off

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