[ Him bringing the light to his world-- it sounds as if there is a darkness against which the gods must employee the aide of humans to combat. They've made a sword out of him to suit their designs, or are so desperately attempting to. Yet as refined as his edge might be, as mighty as the powers he wields are, indeed he is his own person. He should never think of himself as a weapon, Chosen or not.
I'm still me.
What is within his heart-- feelings, emotions, hopes, desires, that " I don't want people to die. And I don't want to die, either"--... He should keep them. Even if all is preordained, if choice is but an illusion to those of his world, what lies within his heart is still worth having, preserving, honoring, feeling.
She cannot say for certain that the one who shares his face shares the same sentiments; she hopes that Noctis' smile will be preserved, that at the end of his journey, he will still be... himself. ]
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I'm still me.
What is within his heart-- feelings, emotions, hopes, desires, that " I don't want people to die. And I don't want to die, either"--... He should keep them. Even if all is preordained, if choice is but an illusion to those of his world, what lies within his heart is still worth having, preserving, honoring, feeling.
She cannot say for certain that the one who shares his face shares the same sentiments; she hopes that Noctis' smile will be preserved, that at the end of his journey, he will still be... himself. ]