The expression on the young hunter’s face shifted, now closer to surprise than tears.
“How . . . ?” she mumbled, the word seeming to escape from her throat of its own accord.
Then after another moment, “That’s exactly how Luna put it. How did you know?”
“How could I not?”
After their sudden parting as children, Noctis and Lunafreya had never again spoke face-to-face. Yet a thread of written words had always kept them bonded.
No. She had kept them bonded. Lunafreya had worked to understand Noctis, and he’d done nothing to reciprocate. In that sense, too, he’d depended on her, as a child would. After he thought she was gone from the world, he’d lived with the regret of never becoming close enough to her to understand her tribulations. He would not make the same mistake again.
“Sol,” he said, with sudden clarity of mind. “I’m not stopping at Hammerhead. I’m going straight on to the city. Pass the word on to Gladio and the others.”
“You’re not gonna wait for them? The garage is just up ahead.”
“You said it yourself. Luna’s anxious to see me. I can’t keep her waiting.”
Waiting for you. She’d written the same thing back then, as he and his companions prepared to embark for Altissia. She’d waited, but he hadn’t made it in time.
He wouldn’t make her wait again. This promise was one he would keep.
“All right, I’ll let the guys know. You can bet good money they’ll be racing after you as soon as they hear.”
A mountain of problems to which he had no answers still loomed. He didn’t know how he was going to protect Lunafreya. She had already turned. He might not be able to find a means to cure her of the scourge.
Still, inside the Crystal, he’d sworn that not another life would be lost. The only option was to move forward. He’d have to deal with everything as it came.
Maybe he was being too optimistic. The gods had always demanded that sacrifices be made. In the distant past, they’d chosen Ardyn, and the man gave his life that he might deliver his people from the Starscourge. Lunafreya had offered up her own to forge the covenants. Noctis, too, was commanded to lay down his life at the throne to deliver the Star from darkness. Yet even their sacrifices brought no certainty that the gods would save everyone. Ardyn had not been able to heal all of his people. Somnus, who refused to accept that some of those infected would be saved when others were not, had deemed it more fair to have everyone touched by the scourge killed. How much suffering could have been averted if the gods had deigned to decide that every life should be spared such a cruel fate?
By such thoughts, his path became clear. Fulfilling his calling was not enough in itself, and neither was driving away the darkness. Noctis had to see that everyone was delivered from peril, equally and without exception. Not a single life sacrificed. If the gods would not ensure that everyone could be saved, then it was up to him to do so, even as just a mortal king.
He would go to Insomnia. He would travel the path toward the future he wished to see―the path he’d promised his father he would take.
“I wonder if I might ask for your aid.”
Lunafreya stared up at Ardyn. That was when she noticed the throne room’s other occupants: several large puppets dangling from chains, each made to resemble some personage of importance to Lucis. A likeness of Regis hung among them. It made Lunafreya’s heart ache. How would Noctis have felt if he’d been the one to encounter this display?
She resisted the urge to look away and, instead, kept her eyes trained on Ardyn.
“My aid,” Ardyn drawled, a look of comically exaggerated surprise on his face. Then with a mocking little shrug, “Do you frequently invoke the aid of those whom you’re sent to kill? What a charmingly unique habit.”
“I have been commanded by the Draconian to confront and to slay you, that much is true. The life and strength I am given now are for that purpose.”
“Of course they are. You―”
“However,” she interjected, “I do not wish to kill you.”
“And defy the duty bestowed upon you by your precious gods? How shocking.” Ardyn pondered for a moment, then added, “Or rather, you would carry out your duty but can’t bear the thought of bloodying your own hands and possibly dying in the attempt. So I am to chivalrously take my own life to spare you such hardships. Really, who knew what dark thoughts lurk behind that innocent countenance.”
“That is not what I would ask from you. Your death serves only to further the Draconian’s scheme. Please, you must believe me.”
Ardyn’s lips carried the same hint of a smile they always wore.
“What’s this? A marionette that takes no joy in its master’s success? I find that hard to fathom. Not that I have the least bit of interest in doing so.”
“The Bladekeeper aims to purge the darkness and the rest of the Star along with it. Man, daemon, and everything else are all to be destroyed. For that purpose, he sends me to amass the scourge and―”
“Destroy everything, you say? How delightful! And here I thought I’d have to do everything myself, when it turns out I can just let the sword fanatic handle it for me.”
“You would perish along with the rest of us.”
“Your point being?”