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year 5, quarter 3
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Aranea needed the money badly as she was spending more than she was wanting to. Having put Prompto up in the inn in Provo had cost her a pretty penny and the meager jobs the people in Provo had for her weren't covering the cost of everything. Fending off beasts and roughing up some local bandits seemed to be anybody's calling now a days, so the pay for those had gone down accordingly. Too many would be heroes trying to save everyone's day. No, Aranea needed to find something niche, something only she could do well, and so she left Provo.
That's what had lead her to this place: the city of Sonora. At first it was odd. To be in a place that reminded her so much of Nifelheim after having spent so many weeks in less developed places in this world. It was cold here and not just the weather. The people here with their icy looks of indifference to one another reminded her of the people under the Empire near the end of it all before everything went to hell. People who weren't afraid to spend a little to get the things they wanted
It only took about a week really. A couple of petty robberies, a bar fight or two, and roughing up a couple of local gangs that were getting a little too violent in their endeavors for her taste and boom, throughout the seedy underbelly of the bustling neonscape were rumors of the silver haired woman. A rogue agent not tied to any of the syndicates already established. Aranea had her rules though: no murder, no harming of the innocent, and cash up front. The letter appeared an hour before the man in the suite came to escort her
"I'm going to need a change of clothes," Aranea mused looking over the desk at the portly man behind it. She turned to peer out the window of the room peering over the city skyline on the 65th floor. The technicolor lights of a city that didn't need to rest blinked and flickered as if in a hidden and disarrayed code at her as she thought. It was a pretty simple job offer as far as things went. A rival drilling company had a secret project under works that would tank this man's business if revealed. She was to attend the rival company's yearly charity soiree and find a way to infiltrate and steal the plans. A fake invitation and identity had already been produced for her. She was be the niece of one of the founders of this company who had to come visit from Torensten and would be taking her uncles place at the event. She had compromised to taking the cash afterwards after she saw the exorbitant amount they were giving her to auction with and any she didn't spend would be a bonus. Aranea turned from the window when the man said, "That can be arranged," and they shook on the deal.
The night of the soiree came fast. Aranea exited her limo looking the picture of elegance. She was wearing a sleeveless backless black satin with lace trimming mermaid dress with a two foot diameter train. She'd been practicing walking for days in the attire, relearning to take smaller daintier steps in the confines of the tight waist. Her sturdy combat boots had been replaced with four inch black stilettos with a crisscross patter over her feet. Her hair usually either pony tailed or flat, had been given a slight curl and parted over her shoulder. She hated looking vulnerable, but she played into the illusion of it all taking the man's hand after handing him her invitation waiting for her at the bottom of the steps into the atrium of the building where the event was to take place.
Aranea knew she couldn't just barge right past everyone into the private parts of the building just yet. The place was beautiful though. The high vaulted ceiling and the party decorations of black and white against the gold of the room were stunning. In the center of room a large stage had been set for the private auction and the crowd was buzzing with anticipation. Aranea snatched a glass of champagne at the first convenience and took the tiniest of sips. It would look weird if she didn't seem to be enjoying herself. Still she was alone and made her way to one of the hors d'oeuvres tables and looked over them pretending she had an appetite as she waited for the night to begin.
Well, perhaps not always. Oh no! In his youth, he would have scoffed away from reflections of hedonism and frivolity, far too invested in the good of his budding nation to care much for his own pleasure. But within the last fifty years or so? Why, there was nothing better than a night out to wallow in wealth and one’s darkest desires.
He stood by a column, not dressed in any way out of the ordinary, leaning against it with a glass of straight vodka in his hand. He didn’t feel the burn at his tongue, but he could imagine it, and that was enough for him. Perhaps if he imagined hard enough, it would even loosen his inhibitions by sheer willpower alone. Oh how he longed for that freedom!
The lights were dim against the nightfall. Golden trim reflected what little light there was, and the black tiled floors seemed nearly like the sky of another world. All about there were men in sharp suits and women in silk dresses. Ardyn winked whenever one met his eye, but perhaps they sensed the danger behind his eyes because they quickly shuffled away. He took another long drought of his drink, wondering if he would ever feel its influence again, before a gavel banged against wood and he stiffened.
He did not think kindly of that sound.
”And the golden swan goes to the lady in white! Please come up and claim your prize!” Ardyn squinted to better see the stage beyond the crowd. It was an auction of course -- that was what the invitation had claimed -- but he wished it would quiet. There were so many better things to do in the night, in the dark. He had no particular inclination to pack himself into a crowd like a herd of chocobos squawking over meaningless trifles. With a sigh, Ardyn removed himself from his perch and ambled farther away from the stage. Distance, yes. Perhaps some distance would muffle that hideous banging noise.
Ardyn was not hungry. He hadn’t been in over two thousand years, but he could still taste more or less, and thought of nothing better to do than pick at small cakes and other sweets until his mood had stabilized. Why could a party not remain merely that -- a den of raucous hedonism? He sighed. What had the modern age come to?
”Pardon me,” he said as he shouldered past a man in an ash gray tuxedo and picked at a chocolate truffle on a plate. It melted faintly at his touch and he popped it into his mouth, wondering if his sense of taste had perhaps diminished with his immortality. He wasn’t alone at this distant back table. No, there was a red-haired woman with her lover, a kind of odd old man who kept sniffling incessantly, and then there was-
He froze. His eyes took a predatory gleam. Why, wasn’t this a surprise?
”Aranea.” He smirked as his eyes flitted over her. She looked different, of course, dressed in a backless evening dress in tottering stilettos and her hair curved over one bare shoulder. She was, in a word, enticing though not to Ardyn as she would for any other man at their little party. No, he wanted something more from her than mere physical pleasure.
He wanted to play a game.
”What a truly minuscule world, wouldn’t you say? I hadn’t the faintest idea that you were attracted to high society. Are you here for a specific item, or did you just come…” His smile widened as he let his head tilt towards her. ”To browse?”
Aranea sipped slowly on her champagne glass. The finger food was adequate enough although she had expected more from such a high class affair. Her eyes turned to daggers as any man approached that was coming over for something more than a flute of champagne or a bite to eat. Thankfully for them, they seemed to receive the message well enough as their smiles turned hesitant and a soft nervous giggle escaped them as she would continue to stare with her furrowed brow until they left to begin their hunt anew.
She wasn't blending in as well as she had hoped she would. Her distaste for socializing was probably something people were noticing. Aranea sighed as she weighed her options. She could either try to remain unnoticed and slowly make her way round from table to table pretending to enjoy whatever delicacies were being offered and hopefully slide away, or perhaps she would do better to blend into the crowd for awhile, perhaps use some of the exuberant money she had been given to win something to take back to Provo for Prompto or...
And then his voice was the only thing she heard.
Aranea's fist squeezed her glass so hard it broke in her hand. She dropped the pieces and her instincts had her grab for a spear that wasn't there. She stilled as she spun seeing Ardyn amongst the glimmering shimmer of all that was around them. A disgusting darkness in this haven of artificial light. She stared as the anger surged through her body. It remembered all the pain she had gone through recovering since last they met. It remembered what he could do.
The fact that she was in a dress at a gala and not facing him in the darkness sprung back to her in that moment. Her eyes not leaving him, she let her body release from its muscle memory for battle. No, she needed to stay calm. She couldn't flat out attack him here. She didn't need to give him a reason to unleash something here. Unless of course, he had planned something for this event. Calmly as she could, she reached for another flute of champagne sipping it as if the man in front of her was just a casual acquaintance as her nerves shook.
"Ardyn." she replied her voice steely and on edge as she pushed back the urge to break this glass into a weapon. Of course he'd been able to get in here. He was always able to turn on that disgusting charm to pull his sawy she had found repugnant even back when she was under his command. "Guess sulking with things too similar to you got boring?" she shrugged slightly the dress pulling too tight against her for to do more than just the simplest of movements. That money and intel be damned now. She needed to get Ardyn away from this place, or at least figure out what he wanted here. Keep him talking for now. "Surprised you're not more dressed for the occasion. Living in the dark for so long blind you to your own looks? Or are you planning to give one of a your over dramatic and grandiose speeches anyway?"
Her glass shattered in her hand. His appearance must have unnerved her. Such a pity, it seemed that they would never be friends.
Yet still, Aranea was the symbol of composure. Ardyn had always felt the slightest of appreciation for her emotional strength. Always straight-faced in the presence of death, always courageous even when the odds were stacked against her. She would have been excellent at poker. A shame she’d never play with him.
”Guess sulking with things too similar to you got boring?” Her voice seethed with hatred only barely veiled by the niceties of societal expectation. Ardyn’s smile widened. ”Living in the dark so long blind you to your own looks? Or are you planning to give one of your over dramatic and grandiose speeches anyway?”
Ardyn chuckled faintly under his breath. Her wit was as sharp as ever.
”Now, now. Can’t I merely enjoy the atmosphere?” He sipped at the glass in his hand. The burn touched dully at his tongue. ”There is so little amusement to be had here, after all. What havoc do you imagine I’d wreak now that Lucis has fallen to obscurity?” He swirled his drink thoughtfully. ”Why not play along? Your life of endless drudgery must drain on your spirit. It all seems so dreadfully dull. ”
He winked at her. ”You’d rather not cause a scene, would you? Just think of all the poor, defenseless people!” Ardyn gave his most dramatic sigh before considering her again. Even he couldn’t deny that the situation was less than optimal. Should she attack, his cover and status would be shattered in an instant. And yet…
This gave the perfect opportunity to toy with her while her will was restricted. His eyes gleamed with malice.
”Seeing as we are both bound by societal convention,” he started and offered her a hand. ”Might I have this dance?”
Aranea didn't let her gaze or her guard down as she stared straightforward at Ardyn. It was always the same feeling every time she had to look at the man. Annoyance at the over the top manor in which he spoke, talked, and acted. Others might be swept into the overt theatrics and ,charm might be the wrong word, the man could ooze out of the man, but it had always rubbed her wrong. No one with that much abundance of creepy charisma was up to any good. And she was right after all wasn't she.
The second emotion she felt staring at Ardyn was hate. It was a deep seated hate that she really didn't know she could feel. She'd done some less than reputable things, still did in fact, but the overt darkness she had seen from him in both his demeanor, personality, and his actions not to mention his actual body. Everything about him was wrong both in the moral and purely physical sense. He had a way of eliciting both her flight and fight response in one go, and that had been even before she knew him for his true self as just a soldier under his broad command.
Lastly and worst of all she felt fear. Aranea knew what he was capable of and the destruction and darkness he could wreck. In a snap of his fingers, he could not only infect her but everyone in the room with the Starscourge, and she hated there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it. There was only one person she knew of who could resist the darkness. The best Aranea could do was stall the terror. She kept her face calm as she thought of how to keep him occupied with her and her alone.
"That's funny," she responded taking a sip from her glass as if she was standing in the shard of her first one, "I was having an amusing time before your arrival." She ignored his jabs about havoc and her own life and picked up a shrimp and chewed as he continued to talk. Her teeth gritted but she gave a simple shrug as he teased her about all the people that he could hurt. She needed to play it cool. Exactly as he said she wouldn't cause a scene. "I've never been much for drawing the spotlight to myself. Not really the life of the party type."
Aranea studied his hand for a moment when he asked for a dance. She wanted to spit in his face and tell him to go do a number of rather unsavory things to himself. Still she let out a polite as she could laugh. Keep him busy. Keep him distracted. Aranea stepped forward and took Ardyn's hand, but then raised it high to shoulder level before placing her had firmly on his shoulder blade. He could place his hand on her shoulder and fall in line or he could look dumb as she took the first step forward to show she would be leading this dance not caring if she were to step on his toes. "I don't think either of us are big on conventions," she stated her eyes burrowing upwards into Ardyn's as she waited for him to fall in step. T
At that moment, Aranea did something he hadn’t expected. In full view of all, with all of her experience in tow, she gave a small, nearly feminine laugh and took his hand. His eyebrows raised in surprise. Had she actually accepted his terms? Would she play along with his mockery?
His lips slid into a malicious smile. Oh this was just excellent!
They left for the dance floor together, and as she turned to face him, she made it clear that she would be the one leading their movements. Ardyn had no complaints nor would he have expected any different. She had accepted his offer, after all, she had every right to seize control of it. He slid into a passive role as naturally as breathing. How long had it been since he’d danced? Since the courts of Sonheim, he supposed. Not quite Lucis yet -- oh no -- but close once his traitorous brother was through with it. His eyes flashed with darkness before he quickly cleared his expression.
This was not a time for reminiscing. No, he would forge his own memories to replace what he had lost. He was still alive after all. Against all protest and reason, he was still alive.
Ardyn chuckled under his breath. ”Not quite,” he said, eyes sparkling with interest. ”You most of all. I must say, I can’t help but admire your tenacity, Miss Highwind. I’ve found it…most amusing.” He swayed to her lead and they moved together, stepping fluidly through their motions like a river’s current. Where had she learned to dance? In that silken evening dress she might very well have been nothing more than a lady of the high court, elegant and helpless. The guise was uncanny.
”Though I must ask again, what might you suspect that I might be plotting? I assure you that my only goal was the fall of Lucis and perhaps all of Eos to rising darkness. But as we’ve both noticed, the Lucis line is no more and Eos has long fled from our grasp.” He took a step out of line, pulling her subtly in his new direction. ”There is nothing worth sending to ruin.”
Aranea masked her annoyance at how well he danced by trying to trip him up. A sudden move to the left, or a backstep where there should have been a foot forward, but like any good dancer he was able to keep in time with her purposeful missteps. Her smile strained her cheekbones as they twirled in tandem. If she weren't so focused on the sparring before her, she would notice as the other couples seemed to be watching them. She grit her teeth as he began talking to her once more
Aranea held back the spit she had ready for his face. "Your admiration and amusement," her eyes narrowing as she looked up into his dark ones and a cold huff of a laugh came up, "I'd say I'd be intrigued and honored if your opinion mattered to me at all, but I have more respect for a Malboro's thoughts." If she had been paying any attention at all, it almost seemed as if the orchestra had begun to play to the tempo of their movement, but that was neither here or there to her. Her focus was solely on keeping Ardyn preoccupied.
And that's why when he suddenly yanked her, she was unprepared. She slipped forward still holding onto the man as her grip tightened to a frightening degree to anyone who could feel pain. Aranea stopped herself as her toes dug into her heels painfully. Her face stopped just an inch or so from Ardyn's chest. Before she could fall back on to her heels, his aroma assaulted her senses. Her nose wrinkled at the cacophony that hit her like a truck. He smelled of musk like sawdust mixed with cloves. Still something else something deeper, he smelled like someone in a memory like clean cloths in the wind before the smell of decay overwhelmed her and rocked her back into position.
Aranea blinked back up at Ardyn as she bit her bottom lip. That smell. Still, now wasn't the time to linger on that. She rolled her eyes at his bold faced lies as he claimed he had nothing to do now. Still couldn't Noctis be here or alive at least? That glaive was still running amok for what she knew. Still, she wouldn't say anything until Ardyn broached the subject if he knew anything. "And you honestly expect to me to believe that?" Aranea asked her voice dripping in disdain. "You'd have me believe that without the kid or Eos that you'd be content to fester away into obscurity? That you'd just fade away into the night like the last shadow in the light of dawn? You're too much a glutton for attention than for me to believe that." How could she believe him? Aranea let go of him as the song ended and stepped back. "You're rot. What other purpose does rot have but to decay everything else?"
The subtle change of power nearly knocked Aranea off her feet. Ardyn blinked his surprise, almost feeling an inkling of guilt for so rudely unbalancing such a graceful dancer. Perhaps it was the shock of motion or simply her lack of purchase in such thin heels. Whatever the cause, she toppled gracelessly forward, and Ardyn moved on instinct to catch her. She froze at their touch, nose wrinkling in disgust as he braced her by the shoulders and then their eyes met. Aranea thrust herself away from him, eyes rolling and haughty self-assurance returned to her in spades. Ardyn eyes her with a tilt of his head, eyebrows raised.
For the most fleeting of moments, Aranea’s vulnerability had crept through the cracks. He considered it with an odd kind of fascination. How very unlike her.
Hostility spit from her tongue in hateful bursts. She asked the obvious questions. How could she be expected to believe his facade? Would he ever be satisfied to “fester in obscurity” as she so called it? She called him a glutton for attention, and he supposed she was right. A smirk widened his lips, her accusations too accurate to even bother denying them.
Would he be willing to fester into obscurity? Never again.
She stepped away from him. ”You're rot,” she said. ”What other purpose does rot have but to decay everything else?"
He let the words fall to silence. Let the onlookers stop to watch this unfolding argument between man and woman. He let her words simmer, let them seethe, let them reflect on them both and only then did he chuckle himself, filling the space between them with a darkness that breathed. Then he took his own step away from her, pacing around her like a predator savoring its kill.
”How very astute of you,” he said. ”But I can’t say that I much appreciate the sentiment. And it seems that you’ve quite forgotten terms of our fragile truce. Namely, your compliance for my peaceful cooperation.” Ardyn stopped his pacing and stood some five feet away, turning to face her with a smirk that reflected every bit of the darkness inside of him.
”Consider our contract null and void.”
Ardyn raised a hand and summoned his corruption to it. In a moment, his palm was alight in a violent black that chilled the very air around them, stilling the last traces of life from the room as silence overcame them like a shroud. Ardyn chuckled to himself again. "Such a pity. And I'd quite enjoyed myself."
Then he clenched his fist. The darkness erupted from him like an aura of death and welled in the ground about them, bursting up in noxious columns that corroded any unlucky enough to find themselves trapped in its midst. There was screaming now. Scrambling towards the only door. Sobbing in fear. Ardyn only had eyes for Aranea, fixing her with an almost pointed gaze.
He would leave her alive. Yes, Aranea he would spare at least. There was till more use and amusement that he could wring from her, and a better death he could arrange than this. But the others he had no use for. Humanity was as fleeting as it was cruel, and he had no more mercy to show them.
The darkness overtook them without Ardyn needing to so much as call his sword. He simply stood back and appreciated the chaos.
Aranea turned in time as Ardyn began to circle her. She simply huffed and cocked her to the side as Ardyn went on about his "truce". She knew it was just a charade and was wondering how long it would be until he showed his true colors and here it was. Why were people just staring though? They needed to go and now. Aranea had already begun sliding her hand down her dress finding a seam to tear, so she'd have more maneuverability as Ardyn cast the darkness into his hand. As the column burst from the ground in its wretched stench, Aranea had already torn her dress clean up to her hip, but the panicked crowd her knocked her back and to the floor as she fought with her heels.
Through the mayhem, Aranea rolled over a few times until she was under a table as the darkness bubbled up in waves and streams. Aranea had the heels in her hand as she rolled out from the overturned table as the crowd all crowded towards the door. Aranea eyed the group and the her eyes filtered to Ardyn. They weren't going to make it if they all tried to filter through the door. If only one of them would compartmentalize and think, but Aranea didn't expect such from the upper echelon of the city. She'd need to create more room for escape before she tackled the darkness. She eyed around the room brimming with pillars of scourge before eyeing the heavy chairs they had for the auction
Before she had the chance to grab one, a hand grabbed one of her shoulders. She turned quickly as a patron babbled their eyes growing dark with corruption, it spilling out of their nose and mouth. The man was too far gone to be saved, and it looked as though he wanted to take her down with him. Before the thing had a chance to lunge even closer to her, Aranea's heel was already stuck through the thing's temple as it roared in pain trying to rip it out. Aranea took its head and snapped its neck between her hands before jumping back into the line of chairs. Picking up the over heavy chair, Aranea rushed to throw it through the glass of the entrance way causing even more panic as the towering entrance way of glass showered down on the crowd. Better a few cuts and bruises than plagued
With the whole of the atrium entrance now opened for more mass escape Aranea needed to control those who it was already too late for to provide time for the others escape. She cursed the lack of her spear, but she could improvise. She ran back towards the encroaching rapidly expanding darkness, leaping on a table and bounding into the air to gather a better look at her surroundings. She looked at the darkness as it seemed to cover most of the back of the room, but her eyes also caught a group trapped by another person too unlucky to have escaped the scourge. She came down her barefoot connecting with the back of the woman's skull as she crashed back down to the ground. She didn't say a word as she practically threw the stragglers out of the way of a pulsation of scourge that erupted from the floor around the former human.
Just the last of the people were running from the chaos that had taken hold of the room. Aranea ripped the sign from the wooden poles holding it up and broke the pole over her knee into a point. A makeshift staff that she ran through the hearts of a few of the just turned blighted. As the space emptied Aranae was pushed towards the entrance as the sea of scourge boiled ever closer to consuming the whole room. Aranea twirled her wooden pole in her hand as she glared across the miasma towards Ardyn. She couldn't defeat him; she knew that, but far from the cramped dark labyrinth, she thought she could at least pester him long enough for everyone to get far enough to safety. Aranea taunted him with a wave of her palm calling him forward.
Liberated from the trappings of societal expectation, Aranea danced with a precision and grace unmatched by any on the shining floors of a ballroom. She had taken to her natural element in the air, and Ardyn watched with utmost interest as she dodged his corruption and brought death in her wake armed with nothing but an evening dress and a pair of stiletto heels. He felt a sly smile stretch across his lips, eyes gleaming their amusement.
Oh yes. This was far more interesting than any party.
The cries came like the strings of a violin. The shouts echoed like a chorus, the pounding of escaping feet -- the percussion. Ardyn chuckled to himself as he bathed in the chaos that he had created. This was the darkness that he’d longed for. This was the fantasy that he’d lingered upon time and time again in the shadows of his eternal prison. That pain would come to all in the end. And for most, it would be fleeting.
Aranea did her best to herd the helpless masses to safety. Fearing death, the highest members of society barreled into each other, scratching and clawing as a carnal instinct consumed them. They snarled in their silk gowns and cleanly pressed suits as they thrust the weakest among them to the ground and trampled over them in frenzied abandon. Would they remember this moment when the adrenaline waned and they were left shivering in the snow-laden streets? Would they remember what they’d done?
Just as any movement had its end, the crowds thinned in time -- his victims either freed or dead by the graces of chance. Now there remained only Aranea, staring him down like a proud lioness. Ardyn chuckled under his breath before giving her a slight wave, grinning to himself as he turned to consider the broken window and the sky beyond. He had no further interest in tormenting her. Not here and not now at least.
There were other waters to muddy, other souls to twist, and as Aranea had so kindly put it, other means to spread his rot. So Ardyn offered her a smile and a tip of his hat as he strolled towards the gaping chasm she’d torn into the glass. His boots crushed the shards beneath them, and Ardyn took no care to avoid the jagged edges as he approached, stepping on the windowsill and tilting his balance forward. He took a moment to admire the hostile winds and the bitter touch of snow that he could almost feel. Then he brought his sword to him and disappeared in a flash of red light.
He didn’t know where he intended to go nor did he particularly care. He was but a ship adrift at sea, a wandering soul who would never know rest, and there was nothing left to seek but his own dark indulgences. And so, as he landed on an ice-encrusted rooftop and started his aimless journey into the night, he couldn’t help a slight smirk of satisfaction.
Rot he might have been, but the world’s decay was inevitable. And at the end, all which lived would join him in darkness.
