[Ardyn listened in silence as Noctis spoke, eyes lowered to a spot on the floor without really seeing it. The larger shape of the matter was uncomfortably familiar (as most things tended to be when they spoke about their apparent purpose) and the broad strokes painted in a way that set a terrible ache where a heart used to be.]
[ It's just making sure I don't die for nothing.]
[No gods had ever come to a Lucis Caelum barely older than Noctis and explained the power only he carried. No terrible purpose had ever been laid on his shoulders so clearly; he'd had to come to the conclusion on his own in step by agonizing step. And like Noctis, he hadn't argued or even questioned it. He hadn't questioned choking on his own blood as it began to run black, writhing in pain night after night and doing all he could to hide it in daylight, and he didn't even question the gods when it started to seem very clear Ardyn didn't have long to live. Because if it was only him, then that was fine. If it was only him--not his brother, not his betrothed, not anyone else on the entire star--then it was worth it. Even if he wanted to live, dying for such a purpose was worth it. And why question the gods when what they seemed to offer had so small a price?]
...We couldn't have known.
[That came muttered under his breath, a hand raised to his face as he'd briefly lost himself in thought. If Ardyn had ever once known or even suspected that any of this was the true outcome--that generations would burn out and die before all of this would see its end--then the patient acolyte would have turned to heresy just as wholeheartedly as he'd turned to faith.]
This is all wrong. [When he spoke a little more clearly, it was with a brief shake of his head as if to clear out lingering thoughts covered in thousands of years' worth of dust.] It's...there was no reason for this. Not with you, certainly. There was already no choice given what I've been told of the state of the world by then.
no subject
[ It's just making sure I don't die for nothing.]
[No gods had ever come to a Lucis Caelum barely older than Noctis and explained the power only he carried. No terrible purpose had ever been laid on his shoulders so clearly; he'd had to come to the conclusion on his own in step by agonizing step. And like Noctis, he hadn't argued or even questioned it. He hadn't questioned choking on his own blood as it began to run black, writhing in pain night after night and doing all he could to hide it in daylight, and he didn't even question the gods when it started to seem very clear Ardyn didn't have long to live. Because if it was only him, then that was fine. If it was only him--not his brother, not his betrothed, not anyone else on the entire star--then it was worth it. Even if he wanted to live, dying for such a purpose was worth it. And why question the gods when what they seemed to offer had so small a price?]
...We couldn't have known.
[That came muttered under his breath, a hand raised to his face as he'd briefly lost himself in thought. If Ardyn had ever once known or even suspected that any of this was the true outcome--that generations would burn out and die before all of this would see its end--then the patient acolyte would have turned to heresy just as wholeheartedly as he'd turned to faith.]
This is all wrong. [When he spoke a little more clearly, it was with a brief shake of his head as if to clear out lingering thoughts covered in thousands of years' worth of dust.] It's...there was no reason for this. Not with you, certainly. There was already no choice given what I've been told of the state of the world by then.