Why does it always start with light? He has had so many shown in his face since he left Earth. The thought barely finishes before it fades and he’s left rubbing at his eyes and trying to see past the spots in his vision. The ceiling is far over and the space is echoey the way storage hangers always are. His attention snaps to the abominations surging towards the small party of four. His instincts kick in. He snaps his right arm up and pure silver blue light washes up and over it. He jerks back away from it and bites back a startled noise.
A creature made of shadow and distorted flesh moves towards him and he spins to face it sweeping his arm about on instinct. It goes down. He cuts the one behind it down. He has to get to Noctis and wake him up. But the Daemons work against him. He cuts them down one after another but the tide doesn’t slow. He comes to the conclusion he has to let the memory play out just as Noctis is told to go alone.
He keeps his space safe as he waits for the decision. Yet as he listens to their words and sees their faces he feels a stab in his heart. In Noctis place or theirs this would be hard. Necessary but hard. He commits their faces to memory and the grinding of a lift warns him he needs to get moving. He turns and sprints for it, throwing himself inside just as Noctis appears in a wash of blue light. The same light he’d shown as he fought. Beautiful as that magic is...it sets his teeth on edge. How much is it taking as a price?
He sits in the lift as it descends and jerks his head up when crystal weapons spin in the air. It’s pretty but weapons always are. The short trip gives him time to think about the voice that had sounded over head. Noctis is being goaded and led. He doesn’t like where this is going. He rises and is out of the lift seconds behind his friend and reaching for the Bayard. It transforms the moment it’s in his hand into a shining blue blade that is a twin to one he’d seen before in the hands of its previous Paladin. A long cutlass like blade but, the hilt is white.
He stares at it and almost gets left him. He charges after Noctis, moving light on his feet as he cuts through daemons in his way. It has been so long since he wielded a sword like this. It feels uncomfortably like breathing. The voice speaks again and his anger flares darkening his eyes and making the sword in his hand shine like a star. Energy is building in the blade and he brings it up letting the power scream out and tear into daemons like they were made of dust. “It’s not betrayal to trust the people at your back.” He says, his voice having a hard edge to it.
He finally catches up to Noctis and freezes in horror. Ashy skin. Veins like they are made of flame. It makes him sick to see it. “Noctis.” He breathes out in horror just as the voice sounds again.
’If you wish to obtain the crystal’s power, you must be prepared to lose all else.’
His stomach drops and he thinks back to how fondly and protectively Noctis talks about his people. The thought makes him think of Hunk who had trusted him to tell him about a terrible future. Full of good and bad but. His voice is a whisper trying to convey everything he can even if Noctis won’t understand who is reaching out to him. A friend. A leader who understands. Someone who cares. “Listen to me. This already happened. Whatever ended up happening....that voice. It’s wrong. It’s not betrayal to trust the people at your back and stand between them and danger. That’s what a leader does. Even if you don’t wake up yet. Remember that. Trust them and trust yourself.”
no subject
A creature made of shadow and distorted flesh moves towards him and he spins to face it sweeping his arm about on instinct. It goes down. He cuts the one behind it down. He has to get to Noctis and wake him up. But the Daemons work against him. He cuts them down one after another but the tide doesn’t slow. He comes to the conclusion he has to let the memory play out just as Noctis is told to go alone.
He keeps his space safe as he waits for the decision. Yet as he listens to their words and sees their faces he feels a stab in his heart. In Noctis place or theirs this would be hard. Necessary but hard. He commits their faces to memory and the grinding of a lift warns him he needs to get moving. He turns and sprints for it, throwing himself inside just as Noctis appears in a wash of blue light. The same light he’d shown as he fought. Beautiful as that magic is...it sets his teeth on edge. How much is it taking as a price?
He sits in the lift as it descends and jerks his head up when crystal weapons spin in the air. It’s pretty but weapons always are. The short trip gives him time to think about the voice that had sounded over head. Noctis is being goaded and led. He doesn’t like where this is going. He rises and is out of the lift seconds behind his friend and reaching for the Bayard. It transforms the moment it’s in his hand into a shining blue blade that is a twin to one he’d seen before in the hands of its previous Paladin. A long cutlass like blade but, the hilt is white.
He stares at it and almost gets left him. He charges after Noctis, moving light on his feet as he cuts through daemons in his way. It has been so long since he wielded a sword like this. It feels uncomfortably like breathing. The voice speaks again and his anger flares darkening his eyes and making the sword in his hand shine like a star. Energy is building in the blade and he brings it up letting the power scream out and tear into daemons like they were made of dust. “It’s not betrayal to trust the people at your back.” He says, his voice having a hard edge to it.
He finally catches up to Noctis and freezes in horror. Ashy skin. Veins like they are made of flame. It makes him sick to see it. “Noctis.” He breathes out in horror just as the voice sounds again.
’If you wish to obtain the crystal’s power, you must be prepared to lose all else.’
His stomach drops and he thinks back to how fondly and protectively Noctis talks about his people. The thought makes him think of Hunk who had trusted him to tell him about a terrible future. Full of good and bad but. His voice is a whisper trying to convey everything he can even if Noctis won’t understand who is reaching out to him. A friend. A leader who understands. Someone who cares. “Listen to me. This already happened. Whatever ended up happening....that voice. It’s wrong. It’s not betrayal to trust the people at your back and stand between them and danger. That’s what a leader does. Even if you don’t wake up yet. Remember that. Trust them and trust yourself.”