Chapter Text
When Noctis had his father’s sword plunged into his chest and met Ardyn in the hereafter to finish their duel, he had expected everything to summarily come to a close with Ardyn’s death.
But… No.
Apparently not, he surmised, as he came to.
He was sore ― familiarly so, he dared say. A steady spark of pain flickered up and down his spine, down his hip, through his leg. His knee ached. It was just the same as he had felt every morning for many years prior to his time in the Crystal.
However, oddly, he could not quite place where he was. Certainly not the throne room, where he had done away with himself in order to do away with Ardyn. The light beating down on his closed eyes was too bright, the ground too soft beneath him where he lay. Someone must have moved him.
He spared no thought toward who, because it was too likely to have been one of his retinue.
That was… Fine.
He laid there with his eyes closed several moments longer, waking himself as gently as he could given the pain.
The thought occurred to him he may well be dead, in the afterlife, but he dismissed it ― any afterlife where he still felt this pain was an afterlife he wanted no part in. He’d not been a bad enough person to warrant it, he didn’t believe.
He considered calling out for his retinue, but something stopped him.
It occurred to him that everything was quiet around him ― too quiet.
He strained his ears for the sound of something, anything familiar. The sound of Prompto taking pictures, Ignis cooking, Gladio working out… But no such sounds came. He heard only the soft buzz of insects an unknowable distance away, the whisper of wind somewhere above him, and his own tense breath.
Finally, peeking his eyes open, he saw trees above him, then the open sky past them. The sun beat down on him through the foliage, and he squinted.
Odd, the closest forest to the capital was miles away. Surely he hadn’t been moved that far? It just didn’t make any sense.
It didn’t make any sense at all.
Finally, his straining ears picked up on footsteps. The swish of fabric.
A gasp startled him, and it took a strange amount of effort to turn his head to the side, to look toward who had found him. The voice had sounded almost like…
He found himself staring at a blonde woman, dressed in white. She could have been Luna’s mother, he thought ― if only he hadn’t known what Queen Sylva looked like, he may have thought she was.
“Oh, my,” She said, and she sounded a bit like Luna as well. “Are you― are you alright?”
His mouth was dry, but he managed to swallow. Open his mouth and say, “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.”
She approached, then, kneeling at his side with concern evident on her face. The concern only seemed to grow when she’d gotten a good look at him.
Her hand came to brush his hair from his face, brow creased. The worry looked out of place on her features, but the subtle wrinkles in her forehead and at the sides of her mouth spoke of a lot of it. He couldn’t help just watching her in turn as she felt his forehead, then pressed the back of her hand to his throat.
“You don’t seem to be ill,” She uttered, softly, “Are you able to stand?”
“Given time to get to my feet, yes,” He said, joking by instinct because he’d long-since learned to make light of his pain, or ignore it entirely, to reassure Ignis.
This woman reminded him of him a bit, as well.
The joke seemed to work, because she smiled a bit.
She offered a hand to help him into a sitting position, and despite making light of it for years, ignoring it for years, the pain was still enough to have him wincing through the experience. This was precisely why he hated camping ― not that he’d ever tell Gladio that. Better he thought Noctis was merely acting prissy.
The ground always made his back ache like one wouldn’t believe.
The concern had returned to her face by the time he was upright.
“Are you injured?” She asked, resting a hand on his shoulder as if to steady him even though he was still only sitting.
“Not recently,” He replied, because he felt no pain where he’d been stabbed or where Ardyn had landed strikes on him ― only the old pain of a wound that never quite healed right despite the best efforts of most involved, “The pain is… It’s an old wound. Nothing to worry yourself about.”
That didn’t seem to stop her.
He gently waved her off as he got to his feet, and found his footing stable even if he was still oddly sluggish. And perhaps he was slow on the uptake, but he was realizing as he looked down that he was not wearing what he’d died wearing. This looked more like his old clothes ― the fatigues he’d worn ten years ago. With purpose, he reached a hand up to scratch his chin. He felt no facial hair.
So, he was ten years younger again, in an unfamiliar place, with an unknown but familiar woman. Was it a stretch, then, to assume he might be dead after all?
Maybe.
“This… Old wound,” The woman said, carefully, “Where is it?”
“My back,” He answered, easily, “I was struck in the spine as a child. It’s long-healed, but I’m rarely without pain.”
A low hum. But she seemed to accept it as fact.
She came to stand before him, looking into his eyes.
“Oh,” She said, looking surprised suddenly. “Your eyes, they… You have Somnus’ eyes.”
Somnus?
The Founder King?
Suddenly, he found himself wondering if perhaps he might not actually be all that far from where he died… In distance, at least. In time…
In time, he suspected he might be a long way off.
Perhaps it was outlandish to assume something like that, but… No one in Lucis referred to the Founder King by his name in casual conversation, and there was no record that said he was the source of the Lucis Caelum line’s blue eyes. Only someone who knew him in person was likely to know that. It had long been assumed by the family, in fact, that the eyes had manifested later on, through a union with an Oracle, who were also known to have blue eyes.
“Somnus?” He asked, nonetheless, just to be certain.
“Mm,” She hummed, nodding, brushing his hair from his face again, “His hair, too. How… Odd.” A small frown tugged at her lips, “You could pass for a third brother.”
Not only had she not answered his question, she had given him several more.
He hadn’t known Somnus had any siblings, and he had to wonder if by ‘third brother’ she meant a third Lucis Caelum, implying two brothers, or an actual third brother, implying four Lucis Caelums.
The fact she felt no reason to elaborate told him he was meant to simply know. It must be common knowledge.
“Come, let’s get you into town,” She said, taking one of his hands and tugging him away, toward where she’d emerged from.
He didn’t fight it, but he did decide he’d need to fib like his life depended on it if he wanted any answers, “Wait,” He said, “Who is Somnus? For that matter, who… Are you?”
She paused, turning to look at him. She seemed doubly concerned now.
“I had thought you recognized me,” She said, not accusingly, “I take it you had mistaken me for… Someone else?”
“I had,” He confirmed, “You… Closely resemble a childhood friend of mine. I thought, maybe…”
She nodded, understanding and patient. Then, as she gently tugged him along once more, she said, “I am Aera Mirus Fleuret, and the Gods have chosen me to act as their Oracle. It is my duty and honor to use my power to assist the people of the world in every way that I can.”
He smiled at the answer, and he found himself thinking, Luna would have liked her.
But it rung true ― Luna had told him about her forebear, Aera, the First Oracle. Told him her name, at least.
Like Somnus, not much was remembered about Aera.
“Somnus,” She continued, “Rather, Somnus Lucis Caelum, is the younger of the Caelum brothers. He is… A war hero, I suppose.” She didn’t seem… Happy about it, truly. Something about Somnus seemed to bother her. But then she was continuing, “Were you not so old, one would almost think he was your father ― the resemblance is truly uncanny.”
He wondered how true that was, but he supposed if he was here terribly long he would find out.
… More importantly, though, he had to wonder about the fact that Somnus was the younger brother. He had an elder brother?
Something Ardyn had said to him before the Crystal ― though the memories of the moments before entering the Crystal were foggy at best ― occurred to him. Ardyn’s name had been Ardyn Lucis Caelum.
He wondered.
“Allow me to put your mind further at ease on the subject.” He said, lightly, instead, “My father’s name was Regis, and I’ve been told I got my hair and eyes from him.”
Aera chuckled. “I don’t treasure how much that relieves me, truly.” She said, then, “It occurs I neglected to ask your name.”
Ah.
Well, he couldn’t very well tell her he was Noctis Lucis Caelum.
… What was mom’s maiden name? He wondered, Wasn’t it Arceo?
Yeah, he was fairly certain.
Aulea Arceo sounded… Correct.
He reflected for a moment on the irony of her name’s translation being, more or less, “I close the curtain,” while his could be taken to mean “last night of the sky’s light” ― though his father had preferred “light of the night’s sky” ―, because, truly, both of their names seemed to prophesy his end.
He shook away the thoughts.
“Noctis Arceo.” He answered her, a little delayed.
“Noctis,” She said, as if testing the name on her tongue, then laughed softly, “The similarities to Somnus continue ― that means night, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” He confirmed.
They stepped out of the trees at last, and Noctis found himself breathless. Was this what Insomnia had looked like, once? So… Rural, but so homey. So comfortable and quiet. People greeted Aera as soon as they saw her, all smiles, and even offered him smiles. Some of them did double-takes, but none seemed surprised or angry to see her leading him out from the woods and into the town. He stayed at her side, still holding her hand as he limped along with her patient steps.
“You mentioned Somnus was the younger brother,” Noctis finally said, after a long silence, when she’d brought him to a little house and gotten him to sit down at the table by the front window, “Who is the elder?”
Aera smiled ― warm, radiant, happy. Her voice was soft with adoration when she answered, “My fiancé, Ardyn, is the elder.”
He swallowed the instinctual reaction, the instinct to laugh at the very idea of someone loving Ardyn. The fear that bubbled in his stomach didn’t heed his attempts to quash it, but he had little doubt he managed to keep it off his face. Emoting freely was something he wasn’t good at, thank the Six ― he didn’t think he’d ever been grateful for his inability to express his emotions properly before, but he had plenty of reason now.
For whatever reason, Aera was obviously very deeply, truly in love with Ardyn.
He had more tact than to laugh in her face about someone he didn’t even know, someone she adored.
Truly, he had no way of knowing what Ardyn had been like as a Lucis Caelum. He had only ever known him as Izunia.
Perhaps, though it felt foolish to hope for, Ardyn had been a kinder person before the founding of Lucis.
“Congratulations,” He said, instead, giving her the best smile he could.
“Thank you,” She said, seeming truly pleased by that response.
Then, she set about… Making tea?
“So, Noctis, where are you from?”
“I’m… A little unclear on that, if I’m honest.” He said ― unfortunately, fibbing to her was the only way to avoid revealing too much. Though she was an Oracle and would likely come to know the truth whether he told her or not, he felt it best not to tell her outright that he was Somnus’ distant descendant, that he was from over two millennia in the future, born probably not two miles from where they sat, “I recall my father and my childhood friends, but little else.”
Aera frowned, but nodded, “Is it possible you came from across the ocean, I wonder?”
“Anything is possible,” He said, maybe too sagely for his twenty year old face, “Though I wish I could understand how and why I ended up in the woods.”
“As do I.” She sighed, but then shook her head, “No matter how or why, you have a place here ― that much, I promise. Are you skilled at all in any sort of labor?”
Mostly, he’d admit, he was only good at fighting.
It was what he’d been trained for since childhood, and what most paying jobs required outside of Insomnia. That said, he did have a couple of other skills… May as well lay it all out for her.
“I know I was trained to fight,” He said, carefully, mindful of the distaste she seemed to hold for Somnus and his ‘war hero of sorts’ status, “I believe I mostly used that skill to hunt large game, but I know I was trained to fight other people to protect myself.” She nodded her understanding, seeming to consider that, so he continued, “I also know how to cook, and how to fish. I’m not unskilled in menial labor such as cleaning, either.”
“Does any of that… Aggravate your back injury?” She asked, still seeming to consider something.
“Hunting and fighting do, at times.” He admitted, “As I recall, at least. I believe I’ve learned to adapt my fighting to put the least possible strain on my injury.”
A nod. “If you wouldn’t mind, I can ask around and see who might need assistance with the skills you have.”
And seeing as he had no idea how long he’d be here, and he knew he had to earn his keep somehow, he smiled at her. “Sure, however I can help out, I’m happy to.”
Things were moving so quickly. He’d probably only woken a half hour ago.
It was a good thing his adventure had taught him to take things so quickly in stride, he supposed, otherwise he might still be floundering over what to say to Aera. And more than that, it was a good thing he’d gotten used to working for his food and a place to stay, because he might have some unkind things to say if it hadn’t.
Nevertheless, she smiled at him in turn.
Then, handing him a cup of warm, amber liquid, she said, “Here, this may help ease the pain.”
“Thank you,” He sighed, taking an odd amount of solace just in the warmth of the drink.
He sipped at it carefully over the next few minutes, and Aera sat across from him quietly. He imagined he may have, once, felt some discomfort at being watched as he tried to drink, but now it was hardly even something he felt the need to give much thought to.
When he’d sipped down about half of the tea, he felt the ringing pain in his spine recede into a dull throb. It was better than nothing, and he sighed his relief.
“Thank you,” He said, again, just for good measure.
“Of course,” She said in turn, smiling warmly at him.
By the end of the day, Aera had given him a comfortable little cot off behind some hanging fabric in her home, which he thanked her profusely for. He imagined that come the following afternoon he would have some sort of job.
As he laid himself carefully into the cot, listening to Aera go about extinguishing the lanterns in the rest of the house, he took stock of what all had happened since he woke this afternoon. It was… Difficult to swallow.
He’d found himself, evidently, some two thousand years in the past ― and not only that, but he’d found himself ten years younger, as well ―, he had met Luna’s forebear, he’d learned something he’d never known about the Lucis Caelums, and he’d had to lie his ass off about who he was, where he was from, and why he was here the entire time. It was like something out of a novel Gladio would have liked.
It was worth wondering if maybe that was all this was ― some pre-death dream based on the plot of a book Gladio had told him about during one of the late nights where his Shield had sat up with him when he couldn’t sleep.
If it was, then what was the harm, he wondered, in playing along?
If it wasn’t, if this was real, then how horrifically would things be changed by his presence alone, let alone whatever meddling he got up to?
He took a deep breath.
Ramuh’s beard.
This was a lot.
He let the breath out, slowly. Sat up a bit to lean over and extinguish his own lantern ― no use lying awake with the lights on.
Thank the Six for Gladio’s camping obsession. He’d have no idea how to work the old thing if not for his Shield insisting on using lanterns.
He settled back in.
Listened for the sound of Aera putting herself to bed.
Okay.
For now, he supposed, he would play along. He would let Aera help him, help out around town, and keep his head down.
Should he encounter Somnus or Ardyn, he would feign ignorance of their identities, pray Ardyn hadn’t also been transported back and that he was a nicer person before Lucis was officially founded, and refrain from asking Somnus any stupid questions about his questionable ruling practices and family traditions. He’d also have to avoid asking Aera any stupid questions about the Six.
… Although, if he were to ask anyone those stupid questions, Aera would certainly be his best bet, and she would likely humor him on account of his spotty memory.
Alright, forget that step, then.
Truthfully, there wasn’t much he could actually do, for the moment, so playing along was really all he had in his repertoire until he figured out how he’d gotten here, why, and how to get back to where he was meant to be without ruining anything in the process.
Still, putting that aside did leave him wondering something.
Why, he wondered, had the younger brother been the one who was made King, while Ardyn ended up a two thousand year old genocidal daemon? Had the two events been related? Was there a correlation? Did one cause the other?
He didn’t like the idea of that, no matter what way he spun it ― if Ardyn becoming the embodiment of the Starscourge had made Somnus become the King, then why had Ardyn become the Scourge? If Somnus becoming King had made Ardyn become the Scourge, then why had Somnus become King? And if they had happened separately, but at the same time, then what had caused that?
More concerningly, he thought, with a pit growing in his stomach, what had happened to Aera?
The history Luna had been taught, and thus the history he’d learned, had been vague as to what happened to the first Oracle. There was no clear fate written for her for them to study. As far as they knew, she had simply remained the Oracle until she had a daughter who was old enough to do it in her place… But that didn’t necessarily mean that was what had actually happened.
Clearly, someone, somewhere along the way, had covered up the existence of Ardyn. It wasn’t impossible that someone had decided to lie about what happened to Aera, as well.
He could hope she survived, but was that truly something to hope for when he knew what happened to her fiancé, who she seemed to love so dearly?
Losing Luna had nearly killed him, and truth be told he’d never been sure that he loved her as a husband ought to love a wife, so he could only imagine how devastating it would be to Aera to lose Ardyn.
It would destroy her, he thought.
She was much stronger than he was, of that he was certain, but even the strongest person has a weakness.
He wouldn’t be surprised if hers happened to be Ardyn.
… But, then, he guessed he couldn’t be surprised if Ardyn’s was her.
He wondered how much that had to do with his descent into ‘madness’, if anything at all.
He shuddered, a cold chill seeping into his bones.
He tried to turn his mind to lighter subjects, but none came to him. Instead, he found himself dissecting his last days of life. A foggy recollection of the brief moments before the Crystal, a recollection he couldn’t seem to make clearer no matter how hard he tried. An immeasurable time in the Crystal ― an instant and an eternity all at once. Two or three dark, dark days reunited with his friends, forever changed by the ten years he had been gone, the ten years that Ardyn had blanketed the world in bitter darkness. A battle that lasted nowhere near as long as it should have.
A moment of hesitance.
His father’s sword pinning him to the throne.
His consciousness flitting away.
Meeting with his ancestors, with Luna, and vanquishing Ardyn.
And then waking up here.
And when he drew his mind away from the topic, from analyzing each second of each of those memories, he found no happier musings waiting for him. He found only heartache, wondering what would happen to his country, to his people, in the absence of the royal family and the Oracle. Wondering what would become of his dear, loyal friends.
He felt tears stinging his eyes at the thought of them, drawn and solemn, overseeing his burial. A knot in his throat grew, tightening further as he wondered if Prompto’s cheer would ever return to him, or if he would forever be the serious, quieter man he’d become. If Gladio would be able to handle not having the one purpose he’d been raised for, or if grief would consume him. If Ignis would hold steady, hold strong, or if he would finally, finally break and give himself over to despair.
He laid in the darkness and wept for them, for the unsure future laid out before them, for the mess they still had to clean up before anyone could hope to rest.
He kept a hand over his mouth, chest tight with the effort of keeping quiet.
He had never been one to cry loudly, to cry hard, but the sobs wracking his body as he laid there would not be silenced, only muffled.
He didn’t know how long he laid there crying. He had no way of measuring the time in the darkness. He only knew that by the time he was done his throat ached and his eyes hurt.
He removed his hand slowly from his mouth, wiping still-hot tears from his still-hot cheeks with a distinct tremor in his arm. He swallowed, sniffed, swallowed again. He scrubbed his eyes and hoped Aera hadn’t heard him.
He turned onto his side slowly, closed his eyes, and stubbornly tried not to think about anything at all until sleep took him.