Lunafreya was slapped into restraints and carried back to Lestallum via dropship. Sol, not permitted to ride along, raced after them as fast as she could on Regina.
“If she truly is the Oracle, I assure you that’s blood we don’t want on our hands.”
Aranea was doing everything she could to keep Luna alive. She seemed to feel no small amount of responsibility now that her own savior was bound and locked away. But the way Aranea said it―overemphasizing the word “truly”―seemed more for her own benefit than for the others engaged in the argument. Aranea was still struggling to convince herself. It was a bitter conflict between her hatred of daemons and the recognition that she owed this particular daemon her life, two strong emotions that were hard to reconcile.
In any case, the response to Aranea’s sentiment was cold.
“We should dispose of it.”
Short. Matter-of-fact. That would be Cor.
“Assuming she is the real deal, how do you account for her being here at all? Are we supposed to believe she came back to life? Ignis, you were there. You saw her die.”
“Yes. Lady Lunafreya most certainly passed from the mortal realm. But . . . ”
“But what?”
“I also witnessed something else. The Oracle’s body seemed to, ah, vanish that day.”
“It ‘vanished’?” This next, rather charged exclamation was undoubtedly from Gladio. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Precisely how it sounds.”
“Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing they never found the body . . . ”
“Even if she turns out to be the Oracle, that doesn’t get around the fact that she’s become a daemon. We need to get rid of her.”
Sol crept away from the door. If things kept going the way they were, Luna was in trouble. Sol had to find a way to save her. Simply breaking her out of confinement wouldn’t be enough. Unlike the former empire, the area around Lestallum was well-populated. Any time spent lingering nearby would mean recapture and death for Luna. Someone would have to remain behind while Luna fled, to keep any potential pursuers occupied.
Luna had said she wanted to get to Insomnia. A journey like that required a pretty hefty supply of equipment and food. Fortunately, Sol had refueled Regina when she got into town, and had packed up some equipment and food as well. She’d had a hunch things might turn out this way, from the second she saw the cold and rough way the Glaives and hunters had handled Luna back in Ralmuell. That was why she’d been willing to push Regina to the limit on the road to Lestallum. She’d kept nearly constantly on the move, with only the bare minimum of breaks, then half threw herself and the bike onto a departing ferry. It was due to luck alone that Regina had managed the journey.
And as for Lunafreya, Sol owed her more than she might ever be able to repay.
She wouldn’t let them kill her, no matter what. This was the woman who had answered her prayer, who had saved the only family Sol had left. Now it was Sol’s turn to help see a wish fulfilled.
Lunafreya knew she was dreaming again. She was clothed in the pure white of her wedding dress. In her hands was a sylleblossom bouquet. Confetti swirled and danced through the air, and the scene was set to a chorus of cheers. Reaching out to take her hand was her beloved―the person she’d waited so long and so desperately to see. Her gaze traveled up from their joined hands, but before she could see his face, consciousness intervened.
Another dream, she thought. Why do I continue to torture myself?
She squeezed her eyes shut, not to return to sleep but to stave off tears that might know no end. She swore to herself that she would not cry. It was painful as ever to know that she would never be beside Noctis again, but she had managed to bring back the person who meant the world to Sol. That was a wonderful thing. A joyous thing. So there was no need for tears now. She would carry on with pride.
“Lady Lunafreya.”
A familiar voice reached her ears, sudden and unexpected.
Lunafreya’s eyes shot open. Her pitch went high with surprise. “Gentiana!”
Then after a moment, she asked, “Is this another dream?”
She was not in the hotel at Lestallum. Surrounding her was the same void as before, dark like the color of the deep sea. Gentiana’s form floated amid the black, green, and blue haze.
“There is little time. Heed these words.”
The High Messenger, always so calm and elegant, seemed unusually rushed.
“Do not be deceived by the Bladekeeper’s words,” Gentiana continued. “The Star is in peril, as are its people. To endeavor for the calling is to invite destruction complete.”
Lunafreya’s voice trembled. “Gentiana? What are you saying?”
“The flow of fate was altered when the Accursed turned from the gods. This much is truth. But the Oracle’s new powers will not stay the Usurper. They have another purpose. The Bladekeeper seeks darkness, for which the Oracle is now a vessel. The Oracle is tasked with harvesting of all of the world’s darkness, including that inside the Accursed.”
“But why should that lead to the end of Eos and its people?”
Gentiana gave a single word in response. “Teraflare.”
After a pause, she continued. “To cast it, the Bladekeeper seeks to increase his power by drawing on those of both daemon and Oracle. Once before did blades supreme threaten the Star, but in that age long past, the power fell short. Destruction was stayed, the Bladekeeper’s ends unrealized.”
“The Great War of Old,” Lunafreya murmured.
Bahamut, the Draconian, weary of the fighting between god and man, had endeavored to see everything wiped from existence. The other gods had held him back, just managing to spare the world its judgment. It was a story Lunafreya had heard from Gentiana countless times before.
She remembered a conversation she’d had with the Messenger when young.
“Gentiana, why did the Draconian try to destroy everything? Why would he want to do such a horrible thing?”
“Among the Six, the Bladekeeper stands apart. From the heavens high above, the Star and its lives seem distant.”
“But I thought the gods protected the world. I thought they looked after all of us.”
“Man is to god as flower is to man. When a girl walks among the fields of sylleblossoms, does she see each flower in its own right? Or is one the same as any other? Destruction wrought by the Bladekeeper is not vengeance against man. It is the work of a gardener, pulling from the field flowers among which disease has spread.”
Horror swept through Lunafreya. Was that what Gentiana was implying?