Up to that point, Noctis had depended on others for nearly everything, and all the while, he’d sulked and complained. What could he offer back to those who had helped him nonetheless? What they had given him was priceless, beyond recompense.
Receive the memories inscribed in the Crystal, that the True King’s calling may be fulfilled.
The visions spun once more, this time with intense speed. He saw himself in combat with Ardyn, the Accursed’s fall to darkness now complete.
Was this the future? It had to be. Or at the very least, it was not the past, nor one of the possibilities of the past. Noctis’s own aged appearance suggested this battle was impending, the Crystal hinting at a moment that was yet to come.
Then after Ardyn’s defeat in Insomnia, Noctis saw himself upon the throne, wielding the Ring of Light and calling forth the Kings of Yore. He would finally destroy the Accursed’s soul in the realm beyond, and Ardyn would perish once and for all.
Gather strength, O Chosen. The fate of this world falls to the King of Kings.
His Providence consecrated in the divine Light of the Crystal. So it is ordained―the revelation of Bahamut.
But the vision that unfolded alongside the Draconian’s words was hard to accept. The Old Kings arrived, and there, on the throne, it was Noctis’s own life that was ripped away. Blinding light burst forth from the ring, and the Chosen King was torn from his mortal flesh and carried to the Beyond. There, once Ardyn’s end was wrought, Noctis’s soul shattered into countless fragments of light, vanishing without trace.
A power greater than even that of the Six, purifying all by the Light of the Crystal and the glaives of rulers past. Only at the throne can the Chosen receive it, and only at the cost of a life: his own. The King of Kings shall be granted the power to banish the darkness, but the blood price must be paid. To cast out the Usurper and usher in dawn’s light will cost the life of the Chosen. Many sacrificed all for the King, so must the King sacrifice himself for all. Now enter into Reflection, that the Light of Providence shine within.
When Noctis looked down, he was seated on a throne of kings―not the throne at Insomnia, but one situated here, inside the Crystal.
So it wasn’t a dream, he thought. He stood and began to walk. His steps felt light and uncertain. How long had the vision lasted? He had no means to gauge time’s passage. It had felt like only a moment, and it might have been so, but within that moment he’d observed two thousand years’ worth of history. He’d watched as more people than he could ever count came into the world, lived their lives, and passed on. He’d known every one of their thoughts. Now all of it was at risk. If darkness shrouded the Star completely, all life would cease. And if the Star itself perished, there would be nothing left of man―not even artifacts or ruins to hint at what had once been.
I can save the Star . . . if I lay down my life.
With the darkness driven away and the safety of the Star ensured, the world of man would continue. Countless other joys and sorrows would fill the future. However . . .
Is that really how it ends for me?
Noctis brought his hands before his eyes. Use the ring, draw on the Crystal’s power, and receive new strength. Then strike down Ardyn with these same hands. Securing the future was supposed to be as straightforward as that.
But . . . death. To be erased from the world. That was the fate that awaited him. It was terrifying, more so than he wanted to bear. He wanted to run, to never have to think of it again.
I can’t. Now that I’ve seen what I’ve seen, I’ll never be able to escape that knowledge or my fate.
He thought again of the endless faces recorded by the Crystal. They brought depth to concepts he’d assumed to be simple before. The Star. Our world. Behind those words stood every day lived by every life that was or had been, as well as every life yet to be.
If I abandon my calling, all of them will vanish.
At the same time, he couldn’t help but note that he, too, was one of those lives. He’d been granted time on this star. His parents had eagerly awaited his arrival in the world. And though Noctis had lost his mother while still young, he’d been loved all the more by his deeply caring father. Ignis had been ever at his side, taking care of his every little need. Gladio, constantly honing himself for the day when he would serve as Noctis’s Shield, was stern with him when necessary and at other times protective, like an impenetrable wall keeping Noctis from all harm. Prompto was there as a close friend, plain and simple, providing Noctis with invaluable time when he could forget his title and the burdens it imposed. Their journey together had been cut far too short.
I’ll lose all of that. It’ll all be gone.
He couldn’t bear the thought. He did not want to die. He’d looked forward to the day when he could live together with those he cared about in a world that finally knew peace.
Yet without the True King’s death, Eos had no future. To secure a tomorrow for everyone else, he had to give up his own.
It’s not fair. I won’t. I refuse!
The memories from the Crystal―the knowledge of myriad lives and deaths―once again swirled through his mind. He could never escape them. They were too heavy a burden to abandon.
A light shone as if to soothe his agitation. Noctis glanced up and found a familiar face staring back.
“Dad?”
Regis looked the same as he had in the last moment they’d been together, on the steps of the Citadel as he bid Noctis farewell. The king stood with sword in hand. His expression, too, was familiar: gentle, yet with a faint trace of sorrow. It was a sadness that appeared but for an instant, like a cloud momentarily passing across the face of the sun. It was fleeting, yet Noctis had never failed to notice it in days past. Nor did he miss it now.
“You knew all along, didn’t you?” Noctis asked.
He recalled the vision shared by the Crystal, of his father on the day Noctis was revealed as the prophesized king.
“You cared for and looked after me, knowing exactly what my future held in store.”
Noctis recalled the chiding comments of friends and relatives. You’re too soft on the prince, they’d told Regis. Others questioned the king’s decision to enroll Noctis in ordinary public schools. Unsuitable for a prince’s education, they’d said. The criticism had poured in again from all sides when Regis allowed Noctis to begin living in an apartment on his own.
To Noctis, too, it had seemed nothing more than a father’s doting on an only child. He’d assumed nothing deeper, certainly not that all those choices were born of a determination that Noctis derive the most joy possible from the short time he had.
“That was why you tried so hard to smile when you sent me away.”
At the end, too, Regis’s careful regard was apparent: he had arranged for Noctis to travel by car, to ensure that the journey would take time. The prince had been sent with a minimal retinue of three. The trip was one last chance for Noctis to forget his role as prince, to experience the wide world beyond Insomnia’s walls, and to deepen his bonds of friendship. The smile given from father to son that day was a parting gift: well-wishes for the coming travels. For when they were inevitably over, so, too, would be the life of the traveler.
“I hated you for it at the time. You sent me away with a smile, and I couldn’t imagine why. I’m sorry. It must have been painful for you.”
A faint smile crossed Regis’s lips. The late king shook his head, and then finally responded in words, “It is a parent’s duty to feel concern for his child and to worry for his happiness. Those are feelings that needn’t be returned. It is enough for the child to depend on his parents and let himself be treasured. With time, even moments of hardship or frustration are looked back upon fondly.”
“Dad . . . ”
“Now you are grown. The time for you to be dependent on others has come to an end. You are a man. A king.”
His father had always been generous with praise throughout all of Noctis’s childhood, and he’d always felt proud to have his father’s approval. But all of that paled in comparison with the pride he felt now.
Then the smile faded from Regis’s lips, and his tone grew stern.
“A king cannot lead by standing still. A king pushes onward always, accepting the consequences and never looking back.”
Regis held out the grip of his glaive.
“Use it, to protect the one in your heart as well as the ones you love as brothers.”
Noctis accepted the sword, feeling its weight. Choose, his father seemed to say. Not a choice of whether to yield to the fate placed upon him, but a choice of the future Noctis wished to see.
His options were by no means great in number. It was possible that, though he could not see it, he had no means to choose at all. But whatever path he walked, his father seemed to want him to walk it decisively and after much careful consideration.
“I understand,” he said.
As if satisfied by Noctis’s answer, Regis nodded and began to fade.
The things Noctis wanted to protect were clear. There were the people he cared about and everything connected to them. There was the kingdom he’d inherited from his father. The people he’d met during his travels, and the lands in which they lived. Everything was essential, and everything was integral. The loss of one brought emptiness and sorrow to others. If everyone and everything was connected in one great puzzle, then no piece could be neglected.
More than anything else, he did not want Lunafreya’s sacrifice to be in vain. She’d expended her own life for the covenants. It was, he admitted, the one life he cared about above all others. He wished she could live again, but if that were not to be, he would at least see that evidence of her life persisted, that her memory might be carried forward into the future world.
With his father’s sword in hand, Noctis lowered himself onto the throne in the Crystal and commanded himself to think. Think well, that you might choose well.
By the covenants awakened, the Six have seen the coming of the prophesied hour―a time when the Crystal shall have shed the entirety of its Light unto the ring. Only then, once the sacred ring is replete, can the True King complete his ascension.