Mercy. It is certainly a beautiful sort of word. Shining and pristine, held atop a pillar of goodness and decency.
Ignis feels the bile on the back of his throat, and worst besides.
There is nothing merciful in the idea of showing him Noctis's death. Every single blasted second he has ever been with Noctis, he has been glad for such small things, even when it drove him half mad. What other life would he ever desire? To know he was safe after every battle, to see his smile at his favorite dish, to lay besides him as they took a rest after a long day of travel and battle and survival....
Ignis has never had to be reminded to treasure his days with Noctis. He felt it the first time they ever met, and Noctis held on tight to his hand with both of his own.
But with this vision, even just the thought of Noctis walking into that consuming dark all on his own because- because -
A power greater than even that of the six, purifying all by the Light of the crystal and the glaives of rulers past. The King of Kings shall be granted the power to banish the Darkness, but the blood price must be paid. To cast out the Usurper and usher in dawn's light will cost the life of the Chosen. Many sacrificed all for the King, so must the King sacrifice himself for all.
Beneath Ravus's gentle pressure, he can feel the way Ignis's hands tremble again - but not in fear this time. Now, the look in his eyes has gained not only focus but a focus, and, for all the greenery in his irises, his eyes burn harder than the flames they reflect.
"Then I hope she may forgive me," he murmurs, low tone already so set that it is clear he will push forward regardless of forgiveness, "but for my own selfishness, it is the latter that I will choose to believe."
Because no. No. He refuses to live a life of surrender, of letting Noctis simply slip from his fingertips, and those of all others who love him so dearly and even now rest in bed with him. How dare anyone to say otherwise, to believe they can take him away.
With the fear no longer so sharp and painful as it had been fresh from his awakening, clarity feels as though it returns to him. Clarity, and outrage.
What grand claims that blasted prophecy had made! For Noctis to be stronger than all of the Six - there is no doubt in Ignis's breast just how incredible his Noct is. And yet he can remember how desperate all of them were in Altissa - it was only yesterday for him. Not even that long. That arrogant, feckless, wretch of a snake -
Perhaps Ignis should hold more respect for the gods. He doesn't think he shall.
Power is not necessarily worthy of respect, after all, and if Noctis were truly more powerful than all of the Six combined... But no, it's in connection with something else as well, isn't it? The Crystal, and the ring... But why now? Why should he sacrifice his life? Did even a single one of the Six ponder why his life was worth both more and less than them trying with their own?
A memory stirs in his mind. It has been many years since he once sat down with Elidibus within the Hall of Rhetoric, explained a great deal about Insomnia and so much about the city. The Crystal. The Six.
Your Astrals are a curious group. Willing enough to involve themselves in the affairs of man as they deem it to be just, but not so much as to provide further succor to those who look to them for comfort. Of them all, if the Crystal indeed possesses a will of its own, it seems the most benevolent of them all.
Would it be a blaspheme of me to wish you and your world see a time that you are rid of them?
Back then, he had mentioned to Elidibus that the old tales claimed the Astrals bestowed the Crystal upon the Lucis lineage. What truly is stopping them from sweeping clean the Starscourge? What would hold them back from bringing back the dawn themselves?
A furious emotion, almost physical, burns in his throat again. Many sacrificed all for the King, so must the King sacrifice himself for all. Is that so? And yet it seems as though so much more have sacrificed themselves for the gods, who have yet to so much as grace them with anything but earthquakes and floods and a blasted temper tantrum. A disgraceful way to refer to the divine, perhaps, but he is far past the brink of caring. Still, if that is the way the gods deign to frame it -
So lost in his own head, the sound of the kettle whistling outright startles him, and Ignis blinks, pulled back into reality. He seems off-kilter, in fact, coming back into his own self awkwardly.
"Ah, my apologies," he murmurs, reaching forth with one hand to take it away from the flames. The heat licks at his skin, just enough to warn of pain. It helps, if one could believe it. Almost as much as Ravus's hand still laid over his own helps a bit. "Allow me to make you a cup. And... thank you for your words, Ravus." Ignis closes his eyes for just a brief moment, eyelashes resting along skin long since warmed with their proximity to the hearth, and his gaze focuses on his companion when he opens them again. "Perhaps you are not Lady Lunafreya, but there is a beautiful grace and kindness within you regardless."
Not to mention... "If we are to believe the gracious option, then perhaps your paths were more parallel than you would have known."
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Ignis feels the bile on the back of his throat, and worst besides.
There is nothing merciful in the idea of showing him Noctis's death. Every single blasted second he has ever been with Noctis, he has been glad for such small things, even when it drove him half mad. What other life would he ever desire? To know he was safe after every battle, to see his smile at his favorite dish, to lay besides him as they took a rest after a long day of travel and battle and survival....
Ignis has never had to be reminded to treasure his days with Noctis. He felt it the first time they ever met, and Noctis held on tight to his hand with both of his own.
But with this vision, even just the thought of Noctis walking into that consuming dark all on his own because- because -
A power greater than even that of the six, purifying all by the Light of the crystal and the glaives of rulers past. The King of Kings shall be granted the power to banish the Darkness, but the blood price must be paid. To cast out the Usurper and usher in dawn's light will cost the life of the Chosen. Many sacrificed all for the King, so must the King sacrifice himself for all.
Beneath Ravus's gentle pressure, he can feel the way Ignis's hands tremble again - but not in fear this time. Now, the look in his eyes has gained not only focus but a focus, and, for all the greenery in his irises, his eyes burn harder than the flames they reflect.
"Then I hope she may forgive me," he murmurs, low tone already so set that it is clear he will push forward regardless of forgiveness, "but for my own selfishness, it is the latter that I will choose to believe."
Because no. No. He refuses to live a life of surrender, of letting Noctis simply slip from his fingertips, and those of all others who love him so dearly and even now rest in bed with him. How dare anyone to say otherwise, to believe they can take him away.
With the fear no longer so sharp and painful as it had been fresh from his awakening, clarity feels as though it returns to him. Clarity, and outrage.
What grand claims that blasted prophecy had made! For Noctis to be stronger than all of the Six - there is no doubt in Ignis's breast just how incredible his Noct is. And yet he can remember how desperate all of them were in Altissa - it was only yesterday for him. Not even that long. That arrogant, feckless, wretch of a snake -
Perhaps Ignis should hold more respect for the gods. He doesn't think he shall.
Power is not necessarily worthy of respect, after all, and if Noctis were truly more powerful than all of the Six combined... But no, it's in connection with something else as well, isn't it? The Crystal, and the ring... But why now? Why should he sacrifice his life? Did even a single one of the Six ponder why his life was worth both more and less than them trying with their own?
A memory stirs in his mind. It has been many years since he once sat down with Elidibus within the Hall of Rhetoric, explained a great deal about Insomnia and so much about the city. The Crystal. The Six.
Your Astrals are a curious group. Willing enough to involve themselves in the affairs of man as they deem it to be just, but not so much as to provide further succor to those who look to them for comfort. Of them all, if the Crystal indeed possesses a will of its own, it seems the most benevolent of them all.
Would it be a blaspheme of me to wish you and your world see a time that you are rid of them?
Back then, he had mentioned to Elidibus that the old tales claimed the Astrals bestowed the Crystal upon the Lucis lineage. What truly is stopping them from sweeping clean the Starscourge? What would hold them back from bringing back the dawn themselves?
A furious emotion, almost physical, burns in his throat again. Many sacrificed all for the King, so must the King sacrifice himself for all. Is that so? And yet it seems as though so much more have sacrificed themselves for the gods, who have yet to so much as grace them with anything but earthquakes and floods and a blasted temper tantrum. A disgraceful way to refer to the divine, perhaps, but he is far past the brink of caring. Still, if that is the way the gods deign to frame it -
So lost in his own head, the sound of the kettle whistling outright startles him, and Ignis blinks, pulled back into reality. He seems off-kilter, in fact, coming back into his own self awkwardly.
"Ah, my apologies," he murmurs, reaching forth with one hand to take it away from the flames. The heat licks at his skin, just enough to warn of pain. It helps, if one could believe it. Almost as much as Ravus's hand still laid over his own helps a bit. "Allow me to make you a cup. And... thank you for your words, Ravus." Ignis closes his eyes for just a brief moment, eyelashes resting along skin long since warmed with their proximity to the hearth, and his gaze focuses on his companion when he opens them again. "Perhaps you are not Lady Lunafreya, but there is a beautiful grace and kindness within you regardless."
Not to mention... "If we are to believe the gracious option, then perhaps your paths were more parallel than you would have known."