hugtopia_logs | those crystal blues

[He huffs a humourless laugh, hunching down a little.]

Guess if anyone was gonna, it'd be me. [A day like today probably deserves a morbid joke or two.] It's... not like I regret asking for help, when it saved my ass.

You shouldn't regret it. I'm grateful that you did.

[Noct's smile shifts, rueful and faint, and finally bites into the onigiri. He's quiet for a long moment, chewing thoughtfully, musing over his situation and trying to determine if he should keep eating or if he's liable to throw up instead. One step at a time. Or one... bite. Anyway. So far so good.]

...I... wasn't supposed to live this long.

[Ardyn closed his eyes with a quietly resigned hum of acknowledgement; he hated it, it was beyond unfair and cruel, but unfortunately it was the truth of the matter.]

...No, the gods and Crystal don't seem much for long-term plans.

[Wear out their chosen weapons to complete and utter oblivion as quickly as possible to serve the desired purpose, whether it was Ardyn, Noctis, or the hundred-something generations in between.]

[Noctis nods, reluctant but unable to evade the truth of it. There was nothing long-term about what they'd decided would be his fate. They were fireworks meant to burn out fast and spectacularly, tools to be used and discarded. He'd felt it before, in short bursts, in doubts and fears and a quiet resistance to the enormous thing he'd been asked to do. He'd been reluctant, yes, but... willing. He'd been preparing himself, all this time, to walk tall and proud towards his demise, just like he'd been asked to.

This, though...]

I was thinking... no, I... I couldn't understand... why? Why was it necessary to give me all of this? I did everything they asked me to do, I got their blessings, the ring, the crystal... I didn't argue, I didn't fight him when he told me I had to die. I thought- that should be enough, right?

[He lowers the riceball, his appetite waning.]

But... it wasn't. They needed... security, I guess. All those memories... they were pushing me into it, reminding me... Eos has a history, and unless I die, it won't have a future. And no matter what I choose, I won't- [He stumbles on his words, hunching over.] ...It's not even a choice anymore. It's just making sure I don't die for nothing.

[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.

I thought so, too.

[Ten years of darkness, of daemons, of countless fighting and too much death. That's what he'd heard, what he'd seen through visions of his future self. The dawn began to die when Luna did, and it wouldn't return until he followed her to the grave, dragging the Accursed with him. It made sense when you laid it out plainly without the nitty-gritty details, a hero's tale of sacrifice against a villain who chose the wrong path. Good versus evil. The gods chose this for them, and what an honour.

He can't see it like that anymore, though. He'd struggled with it since his arrival, more or less, having met Ardyn as he was and being thoroughly confused by the difference between one and the other. The answers had come gradually, through Besithia, through the research papers, through Izunia's own confession, how it all happened. They were still missing pieces, but it was easier to point fingers and go this choice, or that mistake that made the world go wrong. Ardyn turning Ifrit into a daemon and absorbing his hatred. Somnus betraying his family in a misguided attempt to save the world. Niflheim following Izunia's crusade to crush Insomnia and steal the crystal, turning their whole city to daemons in the pursuit of power. Countless other decisions that led them down the wrong path, all the way back to Solheim. Humans. All humans, making choices, ruining the world. It was easier because he is human, and he knows how flawed he is, they all are. The gods are supposed to be omniscient and untouchable, guiding them from afar.

But. But.

The gods started the war that carved the world apart, fighting amongst themselves, because Ifrit's pride couldn't bear to be ignored. The gods gave the crystal to the world with no instruction, power shared only with a handful of flawed and struggling people to use and interpret for themselves, leading to many mistakes made along the way. The gods had given the power to heal to one man alone, a false power that didn't truly heal like Luna did, but rather absorbed, infected. The gods... made the Accursed who would destroy the world. They built a sword and then spent two thousand years trying to make a shield that wouldn't shatter beneath it.

They made the Accursed. He saw it. The memories are buried now, hidden behind a wall that the crystal embedded in his chest built inside him, but he can feel it and know it to be true without all the details to help him understand. They betrayed the world twice over and now it's on him to clean it up.

Exhaling heavily, he bows his head and buries it in a hand, eyes tightly clenched to try and hold back his frustrated grief at the realization of that... betrayal.]

Is this... how you felt? You must've... [His breath catches again, and he shudders.] No wonder he hated everything so much...

...

[There wasn't a response at first, Ardyn running a hand through messy hair and letting it fall back into his face. Gods, when had it even turned this garish purple tone? Had he still been alive when his eyes stopped matching his brother's, or was it something that set in with the soul-deep corruption over time in Angelgard? He didn't know and didn't really want to consider it, but no matter how he chose to overlook the truth it still felt to him like one additional cosmic insult marking him as inhuman, stealing even a facet of simple family resemblance while casting him out.]

It was...easier not to think about it. Foolish of us all, in hindsight. I never questioned why I had something Somnus didn't, even knowing our powers were near identical otherwise. In a time when the prevailing way of life tended toward what most here would call 'superstition', something like that was regarded as a divine miracle. I was grateful for it, and I was still grateful even as things became complicated.

[A slow inhale, and a quiet sigh as he tried to place his thoughts in the right configuration to shape how he really felt. Anger? Sure--anger was just what grew from resentment, and he had plenty of that. For his brother's poor choices, for the people who fell in line and opted to forget him, and for the gods who put them all in those positions then and now. Regret? Yes and no. Regret destroying himself for others, no. Regret not questioning why this, why him, why anything had to be that way...that all felt like more of a mistake now.]

I'm not about to pretend any of it was easy. I was on my own for the most part, and it could be...

[Frightening. Agonizing. Torture. But it's fine, isn't it? Because it's fine if it's you, isn't it? said his own voice in his head. No one should have worried about him, because there was no point in worrying when the outcome was already certain. Ardyn bit back the urge to brush it all off with the word 'difficult' sticking in his throat, shaking his head and starting again.]

...I was afraid. Afraid that even one person would look at me and not see what I needed them to. Afraid of the constant awareness of how sick I really was. Terrified that I would stumble or falter, and the whole kingdom would know their savior was scared to die even knowing it would save their lives.

Knowing what I do now, and thinking about the idea that this was the gods' intent from the beginning...then if all we tore ourselves apart over was ultimately pointless, I would say that even I feel no small amount of anger at the idea.

[Easier... yeah, that checks out. He loves to take the easy way out more often than not, and this questioning thing he's delving into today really, really sucks. Like his whole world is kind of shattering around him and he has no idea how to cope with it. He was told most of his life that he was chosen by the gods, for great and heroic things. That his failing magic or busted leg and spine didn't matter, that he'd still be capable enough to help Luna and do whatever the Six demanded of him. For Lucis, for the world, for everyone. How great, how brave.

This feels so... hateful, though. It clashes in the ugliest way with the gentle way Shiva had beseeched him to free her love and save their Star. He wonders if it's all Bahamut or if she, too, was lying to him. Or Titan, the "gentle giant" as Cabuncle had promised. Or Ramuh, who had only ever asked him to touch a few trees for his blessing.

...He could totally see Leviathan wanting to make his head implode under pressure if he didn't satisfy their prophecy. That's a no brainer.]

What... are we supposed to do with this feeling? Just choke on it and accept that it's their will and nothing to be done about it? It's not like we've been given a better alternative. Thousands of years of history and I think if someone had come up with a better idea, it would've stuck out.

[He has no way of knowing that, of course. The whole thing had been a blur, and he can't exactly sort through them now. But nevermind those thousands of years- Bahamut had existed for much longer than that. The crystal was given to the humans, it hadn't materialized on the planet at its inception. That's how the story goes, at least. Regardless, Bahamut's had plenty of time to think about this. That's an awful lot of prep time to risk leaving it to the whims of what is, essentially, a child's tantrum. How he feels doesn't matter to the gods, as usual.

How depressing.]

Maybe it's simply that no one thought to try.

[He spoke without really thinking on the implied suggestion one might or might not have taken from those words; far too worn-down to ponder the exact right wording now that he'd actually spoken honestly on the simple fact that he hadn't wanted to die to begin with.]

The pair of us certainly didn't. We were so caught up with arguing over which of us was right that neither paused long enough to contemplate whether sibling rivalry was ever something the gods accounted for. If it had been as I thought and my power was meant to help, then why wasn't it given to both of us? I'm aware nothing is quite so clear as hindsight, but if we hadn't been so caught up in ourselves then perhaps one of us might have realized the contradiction.

[We couldn't have known, he told himself again, and then finished the thought in a half-murmured fragment:]

...because we trusted that the Astrals were infallible.

[How could Ardyn possibly have known he was making himself the greatest monster the world would ever know, fueling his own eventual resentment by giving everything and refusing to consider any other course of action? And Somnus could never have realized that his own misguided attempt to protect the kingdom would curse himself and a hundred generations of his descendants to fleeting embers created only to kindle a larger flame.]

We each thought the other was the obstruction to the world's salvation, not that the path itself was merely framework to something a thousand times greater.

[It made him sick to think about. The purpose given to their family by the gods had cursed him to eternity in soul-deep darkness and the agony of being neither dead nor alive. Had turned his brother from a too-serious child into a king with a heart wrought of the frigid iron of an executioner's blade.]

[Upon consideration, it was more the latter of the two that made him feel something like anger. If this was really the plan working as intended--that the gods or at least Bahamut had wished the kingdom's inception to be stained in fire and blood, then-]

[Then it's a terrible plan, isn't it? said his own voice in his head. Hesitantly, he had to agree with that.]

...I've told you before. I'll defer to you on this matter, because you're right. What matters is the safety of the world, and if the price is my life, I was already as prepared as one can be for that.

But can either of us really trust that's where it will stop?

...I... don't know.

[It's a terrible feeling, the idea that after their deaths it might not be over, that someone else would have to take on the mantle of this awful, awful responsibility. The line of kings will die with him, the family of Oracles and the emperor are dead- with that, aren't all of the royals in Eos gone? People will be free to live the way they want, form their own leadership. The world might one day be in danger again from something else, but it won't be daemons or starscourge, it won't be the wrath of the fire god who hated mankind. It would (he hopes) be a danger of their own making, something normal for any other world, something that wouldn't require centuries of preparation and suffering or the gods' interference or kill millions before it's over. Conflict will always happen. This conflict was made worse because the supernatural dug their fingers in and humans didn't stand a chance against that. He'd felt what it was like to be powerless, and he never wants that again. Everyone feels like that, though. That's what it means to be human. They can live on. Magic needs to die. He-

His hands twist together in his lap, grip tightening- though still weak from his condition, his knuckles go white.]

That was- their promise, wasn't it? They promised. They kept so much a secret, but- they kept their word to me. Once we do this, the world's supposed to be free and safe. People can live without magic, they just... need the daemons gone, and the war over. I have to bring back the light. I have to- I can't do this unless I believe that the world will be better for it after. [He lifts his head to look at Ardyn, blinking back tears, quietly desperate despite knowing he doesn't have the answer any more than Noct himself.] Won't the world be better? Without daemons, without us?

[Ardyn didn't answer right away, but the stricken and pained look he met Noctis with spoke two thousand years' worth of volumes.]

[He tried desperately to come up with a response--tried to articulate how little he trusted the word of the gods now, knowing what they allowed done to him. For deciding the future should be built on a river of Lucian blood, demanding the life of a child be the last given to save the world. He tried to put into words what once would have been called heresy; that the gods were wrong to ask this of any of them. That there had to be something else, anything else to solve this problem. Ardyn would have turned around that instant and offered his head to the damn Draconian if it would just end this.]

['Once we do this, the world's supposed to be free and safe.']

[I just have to last a little longer, he'd thought, two thousand years ago. Once I do what has been asked of me, then the world and her people will be safe. And how did that turn out?]

[For just a fleeting second, looking at Noctis whose face reflected Somnus' so well and yet so differently in pain and desperation, he understood a fraction of Ardyn Izunia's rage and hatred. How dare he, how dare any of the Astrals take Ardyn's only brother and replace him with a stranger wrought of cold tempered steel. How dare they ask so much and give nothing in return. How dare they torture his family just to make sure they got their desired end result. No gods so unfeeling and indifferent to their followers deserved the piety in the first place.]

[Would a star under that kind of guardianship ever truly be safe?]

[Ardyn couldn't answer any of that; not Noctis' questions, and even less so his own. They both knew as much, surely. All he could do was put his arms around his shoulders (high and cautious as always, mindful of the old injury) and pull him into a gentle hug.]

...I don't know.

[Noctis wishes he could call the mutual non-answer comforting in some way, but it truly isn't. Neither of them know. Neither of them will know. And to hear that it's up to him to decide whether they obey or rebel against the ancient gods who've organized their family's entire relationship between life and death for two thousand years, that it's his call if they save or doom the whole planet... terrifying. It feels like the moment when Cor confirmed the death of his father, that he was king now, and that every decision he made going forward would ripple outwards and affect so many more people than himself and his small group of friends. Broken as Lucis was, people still looked to him for guidance. And who the hell was he? Barely an adult, sheltered and protected his whole life, hardly knew a damn thing about the politics and geography of the world he'd never seen until then. He'd fought gods, but not for real. He'd fought daemons but not fate itself.

Was he just... taking the easy road again? Doing what he's been told, acting as the obedient puppet against the best interests of their home, believing that obviously the gods know best and are instructing him like an adult might direct a small child in the ways of the world. That can't be so, can it? Bahamut chose this because it's the only way. Anything he might attempt on his own terms would only fail and doom everyone. Countless failures in his own past should have taught him that much. Relying on this plan is safer, and it's not like it's easy to die. It's...

...he doesn't know. He doesn't know. His head's too full to think straight about it, anyway, and all his thoughts only run in circles and hit a hundred different walls trying to make sense of it all. Ultimately he just chokes on a breath and slumps into Ardyn's hug, clutching at his shirt, trying not to sob like a child over all the things he doesn't know and all the things he knows now but shouldn't. It's too much. All of this is too much for one or two people to carry, but somehow they're expected to, every time.

He doesn't know, and he hates it.]

[Ardyn didn't know for sure what course of action was best--how could he? His own view of the greater picture was only slightly wider than most, colored by his own resentment and carved in by eternity in darkness. Of course some part of him wanted to curse and resent the gods if this miserable existence was all part of the plan to begin with. Maybe it would be right to do so, but would it help anything?]

['Ever the dreamer. Sentimental hopes do not foundations form.']

[Somnus would have been able to follow through with something like this. Had followed through on it, casting aside his heart to do what was strictly necessary. Was it the right decision...even Ardyn knew that was a question with no simple answer. It was pragmatic. It would be just as practical and realistic now to follow through with what the divine ordered them to do and let blood be the price for the world's safety.]

[...Ardyn had never been much for the realist approach. He'd grown here to accept it as a necessity at times, to be sure; but having only pragmatism or compassion in extremes would (did) help no one. If Bahamut was before the pair of them today, Somnus would have accepted every word and done as he thought he should. Ardyn, meanwhile would scream himself hoarse at the Draconian in a thousand heresies demanding he do the work himself rather than pushing it on sacrifices he clearly cared nothing for.]

[Neither option would yield a satisfying result, and he concluded there had to be something. Some middle ground where no one else had to die.]

[Or at least, he thought, biting his lower lip in frustration until it momentarily bled a cursed black, where only one of us does.]

...There's no reason to finalize the matter right this second--one way or the other.

[His voice was quiet, attempting both to be reassuring and force the look of frustration off his face. None of this mattered at this instant; what mattered was the smaller picture. What mattered was that Noctis was buckling under the weight of what he should never have been asked to bear, and if he could do nothing else Ardyn could be the support he never allowed anyone to be for himself.]

You're not alone in this. If there's any answer to what you ask...then I've every intention of helping you find it.

[Noctis remains quiet for a bit longer, though he does offer a slight nod in response, feeling too exhausted to do much else. He's already running on fumes, and this whole situation - the theorizing, the anxiety, the second-guessing - is draining him more and more with every minute. When Ardyn reminds him they don't have to resolve it now, all he can feel is a rush of relief, and he tries to push it all from his mind. If it were that easy he'd live a simpler life, of course; all of those churning thoughts will remain, hovering over them like a stormcloud waiting to strike when it's least convenient. For now, though, this will have to be enough.

He draws back a little, finally, enough to unmuffle his voice.]

I'm tired... I'm so tired of all of it.

[An absurd thing to say to Ardyn of all people, he knows. Still, he can't help how he feels. Like he'd managed to live several lifetimes worth of grief in two decades. It's not that he wants to die, it's just he can't help wondering if by the time he faces Izunia in the end, they'll both welcome oblivion, after everything they've suffered.]

I know. I am as well. [Which went without saying, but he sympathized all the same.] Just worry about recovering for now. If you should wish to revisit this when you're feeling better, then we can do that.

[He pulled back slightly as well, brushing Noctis' hair out of his face with a look of concern.]

...You really do look exhausted, Noct. Is there anything I can do to help?

I dunno...

[He closes his eyes for a long moment, 'tolerating' the gesture somewhat self-indulgently. He doesn't know what to think at this point, nevermind how to make any decisions. For himself, or for anyone else. He's glad the door is open to consider things later, at least. He might decide to, or he might opt to just keep running from it. But that choice can be far away from him, just for a little while. As for now...]

...Help me think of what to tell my dad?

Hm...well, I suppose telling the entire truth isn't something we're collectively prepared for? Not at this point, at least.

[Things were difficult enough at present without the most difficult conversation imaginable looming overhead as well.]

Definitely not.

[The answer comes automatically, and after a few moments of hesitation, he adds more cautiously,]

Is that... wrong? To want to keep it from him, as long as I can?

Well...'wrong' isn't the word I would use. We can't keep it from him forever, but I can understand why it's something you would wish to hold off on. Though I would caution you, I do not think any amount of time will fully prepare either of you for that conversation.

...No. Probably not.

[He rubs a hand against his forehead, feeling a return of that headache again. It's not just the memories, it's... a lot. This situation is a mess.]

He kept all those secrets my whole life... more than a decade, he knew what was going to happen, and he held it in so I wouldn't have to deal with this. He might disagree with me, considering how pissed I was when the truth started to come out, but I'd like to return the favour if I can.

I don't think there's a right or wrong answer for something as complicated as either situation. No matter when the truth comes out, it's liable to hurt all the same. Wanting to postpone that isn't in itself a terrible thing.

If he's upset with you--and I seriously doubt he will be--you can go ahead and tell him I said that.

[Noctis sets free a quiet huff of laughter at that; it's brief, and with a wince, but glad to feel it nonetheless.]

Yeah, I've got a feeling he'll be a hell of a lot more charitable about it than I was.

[He'll cut himself a little slack, as he'd been running awfully high on a hundred emotions at the time. Still, he can't imagine his father having that harsh a reaction. His dad was far more often sad instead of angry.]

I'll keep that in mind, though. Thanks.

I told you--you're not alone in any of this. I'll be at your side as long as I'm able, in anything you need of me.

I'm gonna tell him you were in on it, then.

[Partners in crime. It's only fair.]

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