finalflight | PSL; [YOU KNOW I LOST MY MIND]

PSL; [YOU KNOW I LOST MY MIND]

how high is too low?

[Noctis’ light had swallowed him whole.

Engulfed him like he were nothing, his power finally realized and strengthened by the chains of destiny. The King of Light wielding that selfsame weapon, as much of a pawn of the gods as he was, fulfilling his very purpose for existing. And it hurts, for a few harrying moments — it hurts, the light burrows into him and makes the Starscourge scream and he’s expelled from existence like a disease destroyed, like a plague banished from the land. The darkness fallen, his mind and spirit and his very right to exist erased. And then the pain is gone. Noctis’ light, too, wanes and becomes nothing, like him.

Then there is only nothing. And freedom — finally, after so many ages — is a release he cannot even truly appreciate.

But it doesn’t matter. He’s gone now.

* * *

Until he isn’t.

Until his body feels like it’s shuddered back into existence, so much feeling in every nerve ending. Air and dust filling his lungs. The cold press of a stone floor, dull pain across every limb, in every bone. It’s impossible, and for a moment that void of nothing is filled with fear — like a vacuum letting air in for the first time — and Ardyn jolts into consciousness. Gold eyes are wide in the shadows, fingers curling into fists, then opening, then closing, then opening again.

For those few awful moments, he is unflattering. Confused and disoriented and lost in the sensation of being alive and being without a darkness that crawls beneath his skin. It’s like gaining too much and losing a limb all at once. He might have released a desperate noise from the back of his throat, he might have had nails bite into his face as he felt the contours of his features. It’s all a great storm in his head, only slowly released.

It’s only later when the anger sets in. The frustration of his rightful end stolen from him, because this was not how it was supposed to go — he was not supposed to exist, he was not supposed to be alive. Was he alive? He felt off, strange, weak and unbalanced like the healer he used to be. The Starscourge — where was it?

Where was he?

He can’t see much of anything. It’s dark, though he swears a flicker of torchlight dances just outside the exit to this stone room of rectangular shapes and oddly purposeful placements. It reminds him of Angelgard, an unpleasant association. It reminds him of a prison, or of a tomb.

A minute more and he’s shuffling to his feet, heading towards that light. What an irony.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ There is a part of him that still thinks this a dream until Ardyn’s fingers close around his own, real and warm and there, pressed against the worn leather of his glove. No claws spring forth to pierce his skin, no foul magicks that try to drag him into the maw of a beast or into the Void itself. Just two errant souls, brought back together across worlds on the wings of some unknown force, defying all odds or expectation. He heaves a silent sigh, his posture relaxing all at once.

X’rhun can hardly begin to fathom what any of this means, for either of them, for both of them, he’ll have the time to think on it later. ]

I’ve no idea, but to say I am not glad to see you would be a lie. I’ve missed you.

[ More than he would care to admit at the moment. There can only be so much heartfelt reuniting done in the belly of a defunct crypt, and he would know what Ardyn has been through, how he feels, ere he goes pouring his heart out.

His hand still joined with his friend’s he begins to guide them away from the tomb, into the winding pathways of the catacombs, and gradually, towards the exit. ]

Keep your head about you. There are voidsent that lurk in this place.

[ I’ve missed you. Such a plain statement, and yet it encompasses the strange, hollow ache he felt as he whiled away the days, the years, in the bleak darkness of the Citadel. As he waited for Noctis to push those crumbling doors of the throne room open, to meet him in one final battle that would put the both of them to rest.

He had thought at the time that he would be free of it then. Strange how being with X’rhun now, his hand guiding him through the belly of this crypt, is only accentuating the ghost of that loss further. As if he is finally paying attention to a wound left ignored for ages, only now letting its discontent catch up with him, despite simultaneously having the balm at his side.

But now is not the time for such sentimentality, if that’s even what it can be called — X’rhun would agree to him about that, too, and Ardyn’s boot kicks up a stone that’s sent clattering down the corridor.]

Oh, of course there are. Come now, as if I cannot defend myself from all manner of things that would wish to kill me from the shadows. Though I wonder if it should be possible to truly slay a dead man?

You are quite lively for a dead man, my friend. Though— [ a half turn, to regard Ardyn with a glance as they wind their way through the bowels of the mountain, as if he might hope to gauge how Ardyn feels about that statement. Probably mixed at best, which is why he doesn’t press. ]

‘Tis less the Voidsent and more the labyrinthine tunnels that concern me. Most of them have fallen into disrepair over the decades, and where was once a way out, one would only find a mountain of rubble now.

[Mixed feelings are an understatement. They are quite complicated, should he have the time to unravel them -- but at the moment? The fact that he doesn't seem to be very dead at all is frustration running millimeters beneath his skin.]

Yes, quite lively indeed. That rather defeats the point.

[He lets that be known, before tending to the idea of Voidsent and winding tunnels, which are their primary concern at the moment. Ardyn is perhaps not nearly as worried as he should be; given all that's happened to him, it's so inconsequential.]

I could phase through a piece of rubble or two and leave you to fend for yourself, swathed in the dark. But... well, that would do our reunion little good, wouldn't it? Let us cross that bridge when we get there, as the saying goes.

[ They’ll have to take the time to mull over the nature of Ardyn’s appearance here once they’re somewhere a bit less full of monsters and a bit more private. There are no displaced princes here for Ardyn to vent his frustrations against – though X’rhun cannot help but wonder at the fate of Noctis, if Ardyn is here and claiming that he is supposed to be dead – so X’rhun will have to do as a suitable target. ]

Your brilliant plan fails to take into account that I know these passages very well. There shall be no need to phase through anything so long as I am here to lead the way.

[ True to his word, X’rhun seems to know exactly where he’s going, passing by the many branching paths to head down one in particular. It isn’t much longer until the golden light of the setting sun makes itself known, peering through an opening at the end of the tunnel. His fingers still curled ‘round Ardyn’s hand, he guides the other man out of the crypts and into the late evening air – a bit arid, perhaps, but the heat of the day is waning rapidly with the setting of the sun.

In the distance, the looming walls of Ala Mhigo stand stark against the sunlight. ]

[He has no reason not to trust X’rhun’s confidence, because that same trust is a thing long earned, and he offers it easily. Led by the hand the whole way, through winding passages and deep shadows, eventually they’re out of the crypts and struck by the orange light of the fading sunset, a dry heat sweeping over his form.

Ardyn squints against the light regardless, ever unused to its touch. The sensation of warmth is just as alien to him, too, a reminder of what he has lost, or of what he has reverted back into when he no longer should even be in existence. After a moment, he releases his friend’s hand and makes a wide, sweeping gesture at the sight before him.]

Now there’s a sight. What grand stonework! Tell me, is that our destination?

[ There is a small, quiet moment of panic that buzzes in X’rhun’s heart when Ardyn withdraws his hand, as if he’s afraid the other man might scatter to the breeze, a mere memory once again once the contact has been severed. It’s a foolish fear, and a selfish one at that, so he tucks it away. Besides, Ardyn does not vanish, and instead simply takes in the lay of the land with a grand gesture so familiar, X’rhun cannot help the small smile that appears on his face. ]

That it is. Beyond those walls lies the city of Ala Mhigo. My home.

Ala Mhigo!

[He says, bringing that same hand up to shield his eyes against the sunset, taking in the silhouette of the city before them. His wine-colored hair looks as if it might catch aflame when cast such a deep red in this light.]

Your home, of which I've heard so much about. I must say- [He looks over his shoulder to glance at X'rhun, a familiar curve of a smile across his lips.] -if I am to be thrown yet into another foreign world, at least it is with a friend, and near such a grand city that I would have no qualms about exploring. You will take me sightseeing, won't you?

[Heartily skipping over the more serious discussions of why he's here and what it means for the both of them? Why, yes. Some things never change, do they?]

[ Ah yes, how easily they’ve slipped into this dance, with Ardyn glibly ignoring any pressing issues or matters of a serious nature while X’rhun is left to maneuver around him, waiting for the moment in which he must strike at the heart of things.

For now, given that Ardyn has but recently returned from what should have been a very final end, and found himself in yet another world not his own, X’rhun is content to give his friend some slack. Allow him to settle a bit ere X’rhun dives into matters, blade first. ]

In the morning, yes. She’s a bit rough around the edges with the Garlean occupation freshly ended, but she still has much to offer a tourist such as yourself.

[ X’rhun had plans to depart the city on the morrow to continue his pilgrimage, but he has no qualms about extending his stay whilst they unravel the mystery of Ardyn’s appearance. ]

But I daresay you might be tired of walking once we reach the city proper, and I’ve a room at the local inn if you do not mind sharing.

[It is, as always, easier this way. As much as he had used his flippant nature to deflect matters both serious and benign, now Ardyn deploys them to buy himself time to process all that's happened. Should he stand here and attempt to do so now, they could be speaking for hours, and there is little more that he wishes to do than to ease this newly aching body of his. The trek to the city seems long for a man no longer immortal.

He makes a noise of consideration, even if he's already made up his mind.]

And why should I mind after all we've been through? If you recall, we have shared a living space once before. I'll hardly turn my nose up to doing so again. You may fill me in on all that's happened since you've been gone; I'm sure we have many stories to exchange to while away the hours of the long night.

'Tis a far smaller dwelling than our apartment in the sky, but there is a bed and a washroom, and good food to be had at the tavern below. One cannot ask for more.

[ And so he begins the trek to the city, away from the crypts and into the wide expanse of the salt flats of Loch Seld. There are some creatures lurking about, things made of stone that seem as harmless boulders until they move, but they keep their distance. It is well and truly dark by the time they pass through the city gates, the steel still warped from the Alliance assault some moons ago. Darker still when they arrive at the modest little inn X'rhun has called home these past few days. ]

I could probably sweet-talk the innkeep in to letting us take our supper in our room, if you would rather.

[He is casual in his following, but he is also curious. Eyes moving towards the creatures they give wide berth to, the battle-worn gates, the interior of the quaint little inn that they find after night has fallen. And within the company of civilization, Ardyn wonders if he sticks out like a sore thumb, donned in many layers and unlike the dress of anyone else he has seen thus far. (Not that Ardyn dresses much like anyone on Eos, either.)

He crosses his arms, giving X’rhun a look paired with an arching brow.]

I do love hearing you sweet-talk. Let us go that route for now — a bit of privacy to be had while we refuel for the night, hm?

[ Next to X’rhun, even Ardyn’s garb doesn’t draw too many curious glances. Most of the regulars at the little establishment on the inn’s first floor have become used to the brightly-dressed Miqo’te’s comings and goings in the last few days, but he still manages to draw some gazes just by walking into a room. ]

Then I shall sweet-talk you in private. For now, make yourself at home.

[ So, saying, he fishes a brass key from his pocket, the room number burned into the leather tag that hangs about the key, and offers it to Ardyn. There aren’t many rooms, just a scant few that line the single hall at the top of the stairs, and scantly furnished as well. Each with a single bed, a simple table and pair of chairs and a small washroom attached.

If Ardyn would like a moment or two by himself to collect his thoughts, then X’rhun is offering it to him. ]

[He takes the key with a smile, giving a little faux salute—]

See you soon, then!

[And saunters in the right direction with a gait so jaunty that X’rhun would surely know there’s nothing sincere about it.

Because that much slides off his demeanor once he’s in the room — small, humble thing that it is, Ardyn is not much bothered by its homely qualities. Rather, it is the sudden solitude that slides past his defenses. The strange awareness of his body, poignantly feeling and the lack of a sickness he carried with him for so long. A weight removed, now leaving him floating and unmoored, a terrible sensation when he had been promised a death to avoid it altogether.

And so he just stands there, staring at a window rather than out of it. Catching glimpses of his own reflection as he waits for his friend to return. He isn’t sure what it is — anxiety, restlessness, an unwanted existential crisis sweeping down on him — but Ardyn feels like the floor might give way beneath his feet at any moment. Like the world will correct itself and swallow him up, because he isn’t supposed to be here.

Why is he here?]

Why…? [He breathes out in an exhale, to no one in particular. To his ghostly reflection lingering in the window panes.]

[ No, that walk is over the top even for Ardyn, which speaks volumes on its own. X'rhun spends a spare moment or two watching the retreating form of his friend, left only to make guesses about what might be running through Ardyn's head. X'rhun's own feelings aside, he can't imagine what it must be like to be in the other man's position, and he cannot help but wonder if this reunion holds any joy for Ardyn at all, or if it is only soured by the promise of rest that has slipped once again for his fingers.

The Duelist heaves a heavy sigh, and contents himself with knowing that they cannot avoid the subject forever, and the answers to his questions will come eventually - whether they are the ones he wants to hear or not.

After that, he does do a little sweet-talking to the innkeep, though it really isn't necessary considering X'rhun had saved the woman's daughter from a trio of cutpurses not long ago. Before long, she has piled a pair of plates heaped with food into his arms - though the ingredients may be modest (there's no cloned meat to be found here, thank you), the proprietress has a knack for cooking that always makes X'rhun think of warmth and family, home and hearth, and that alone is worth its weight in gold.

He makes his way to the room, and if he fumbles with the doorknob for a second, it's only to give Ardyn a moment to put himself together, if he cares to. ]

I hope I haven't kept you waiting overlong.

[ He says, shouldering the door shut behind him. ]

[He picks up all the pieces of himself threatening to drift away when he hears the doorknob jostling, realigning himself back into the usual Ardyn he shows the rest of the world. It may be a moot routine while in the company of X’rhun, and sharing a private room at that, but it comes automatically to him — so does the lopsided grin he gives the other man when he watches him try to waltz in while balancing plates in his arms. The scent of freshly-cooked food wafts in his direction.]

Not at all. Need of an assist?

[Says Ardyn, stepping forward in long gaits and reaching out to sweep up a plate or two from X’rhun’s arms, in the same vein of a grand, overdramatic gesture.]

Smells delightful. A strange notion, requiring to eat; but I suppose if it must be done, there are worse dishes to have chosen.

[ X'rhun is quick to let Ardyn relieve him of their meals. The mage isn't uncoordinated by any means, but balancing plates is not an act he has needed to perfect - honestly, how do serving girls do it?

Once his arms are free, he tugs his gloves off one by one, draping them over the back of one of the chairs at the little table set against one wall, presumably the place they will take their supper together. His hat follows, left to hang off one side of the chair's back. His ears flick in Ardyn's direction. ]

'Tis no different than it was in New Amsterdam, is it not? Though, by your reckoning, how long has it been since you were there?

[Ardyn will be setting down the plates on this same little table, one by one, as he gives a considerate hum at the question.]

Oh, no, it was no different then. But that was due to a suppression of powers — the Starscourge sleeping soundly in my veins. Not a lack of them.

[Once set down, Ardyn is quiet for a brief second, but this pause is masked by the way he begins to shrug off his own coat. The heavy article of clothing is placed neatly on the back of one chair, which he will claim to be his once seated.]

But… after New Amsterdam, I returned to the exact point in which I remember leaving Eos. After bringing down Ifrit, and waiting for dear Noctis in the throne room. [The smile on his face twists rueful, something dark behind amber eyes, but then that same gaze flicks up to X’rhun and loses some of its cloudiness.] After that, well, not much time passed at all. I would say it was like my return to my star happened yesterday, and now here I am!

[ X’rhun held his suspicions that the Starscourge had been ousted from his friend with his death, however brief, but now that he has the confirmation, he’s… not sure what to do with it. Does that mean that Ardyn is once again well and truly mortal? Will he age and die as anyone else would?

More questions, and no time yet to delve into the answers. X’rhun can be patient, and he reminds himself that right now, he needs to be so more than ever. Let Ardyn have his pauses, masked or no, and rueful smiles as he tells this story, piece by piece. ]

A mystery that will no doubt need unraveling. I know not how you came to be here… but I suppose you might wish to know that it is not without precedent.

[He seats himself with an unnecessary flourish, crossing a leg and leaning forward to inspect one of the dishes. Some sort of meat, its scent stirring up his appetite. Hopefully not cloned stuff, but he doubts it.]

Oh? [He looks across the table at his friend, amber eyes flicking upwards.] Yes, that is very relevant. Tell me more about this precedent.

[His interest is deeper than he's letting on, surely.]

[ Ah, perhaps he should not have brought that up just yet. It may well ruin their supper, but it can’t be helped – and X’rhun knows from experience that the lady of the house’s cooking tastes just as good cold, as gallivanting after graverobbers has caused him to keep some very late nights indeed.

In answer, X’rhun moves to the simple traveling pack slung over one of the bedposts. Rustling around in one of the pockets produces a piece of parchment – a clipping, to be precise, from one of the newspapers local to Ul’dah. He slides the article across the small table to Ardyn, and all at once it’s apparent why. Accompanying the story is an artist’s rendition of its subject – a young man with dark hair and a sleepy countenance, adorned in clothes many might find strange.

To those that know him, the image of Prince Noctis is very well done indeed. ]

This was some time ago, by now. I happened upon some Ul’dahn merchants talking about the article and had to hunt down a copy for myself.

[ The article itself is a fanciful and romantic sort of thing, speaking of a wayward traveler, lost between worlds, joining forces with Eorzea’s champion that he might find his way back to the woman he loves. Hopeful, to some, melancholy to those precious few that know the end to this particular tale. ]

[He’s patient while X’rhun roots around in his bag, but his eager curiosity is betrayed by how deftly fingers pluck up the parchment, amber eyes roving over its contents. Immediately, he recognizes that well-rendered face; the artist did a rather good job of capturing the young prince’s beleaguered, tiredly resigned expression.

There’s no hiding his surprise, eyes widening before his brow furrows. Perhaps the first sincere expression pulled out of Ardyn since X’rhun found him in that dusty tomb — no shock that it would be Noctis, or the footprint he’s left behind in this world, to cause it.

He deigns not to reply, not until he’s read the copy accompanying the article. And as he takes in each and every line, that same surprise transitions into a smile, slowly pulling at the corners of his mouth as if brought up by a thin thread. Wry, a little cold. The amusement in his reply seems to match.]

Ah, the King himself — or I suppose just a little lost prince at the time, if he’s hoping to return home to his still-breathing fiance, ha! But dear Noctis visited your star long before I did? He never mentioned it, that much is for certain.

[He places the article down on the table again, looking across at X’rhun with an inscrutable gaze.]

I suppose I’m just following a precedent, then. Maybe this place has a preference for those with Lucis Caelum blood in their veins.

[mentally: what the fuck]

I imagine there were more pressing matters at hand that left mentions of other words to fall by the wayside.

[ Just a guess.

X’rhun slides into the seat opposite his friend, eyes roving over his expression. But a heartbeat ago, his feelings had been made plain, genuine surprise now smoothed over into something more Ardyn – that is to say, entirely difficult to read. However, X’rhun did not come this far as Ardyn Izunia’s friend without learning to read between the lines, and that brief glimpse is all he needs to infer how the other might be feeling. ]

I suppose if you’ve a desire to unravel the mystery of your appearance, we might start with the young lady which penned this article. She may be able to offer some insight.

But you needn’t decide such things right now. Dinner first, at the very least.

I can’t imagine what.

[He says to be frustrating about it, knowing full well that there was the small matter of the star being engulfed by darkness that might have distracted Noctis at the time. Among a myriad of other issues.

Still, he watches as X’rhun settles in the seat in front of him. The food hasn’t lost its appeal, but it has been momentarily forgotten in this unexpected revelation, that he was not the first man from Eos to have unwillingly arrived here.]

What is there to decide?

[But he seems to remember the myriad of dishes before them now, and pushes one closer to him, plucking up a utensil with his other hand.]

This young lady… if we are to squeeze answers out of her, what then? I’ve no desire to return to my star in a living, breathing state. [His smile grows sharp yet rueful.] As I am now.

[ X’rhun knows by now what pieces Ardyn adds to the conversation just to be frustrating and which pieces are worth keeping, examining, and addressing. It is why his first statement is left unremarked upon, to float into the aether and be forgotten, but the rest, well. The rest is very much worth addressing. ]

I cannot claim to know your thoughts on your appearance here, my friend, or what you intend to do about it, if anything. In fact, I suspect that you yourself are still working through your feelings on the matter, which is why I thought to offer you options one way or another without the pressure of choice.

[ Ardyn had always been so fixated on the end that had not come, snatched away by and imagined Storm or the hands of kidnappers unknown, and now that he has been snatched away after it has come to pass, X’rhun cannot begin to imagine where that leaves him. ]

... You know I am willing to listen, should you need it.

PSL; [YOU KNOW I LOST MY MIND]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)