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year 5, quarter 3
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With portions of her memory lost, Aera had taken to some creative ways in trying to gain back pieces here and there. While on her travels she would take up what many considered "odd jobs" in areas of familiarity, and today it was plants. Specifically, she was helping out one of the farm owners in Provo by gathering herbs just out beyond town.
She'd not strayed too far from the main road leading in, for fear of daemons or whatever other ilk this world hosted, but plants were sparse this close to town--regularly passed over by roadside livestock and travelers' horses.
Her pacing was slow, and by midday she'd only managed to fill five baskets of the needed seven. It should have gone quicker, but the blonde was stopping at every new plant she encountered, trying to identify each from memory. The exposure to the flora was the entire reason she'd taken up the task at all, and with no set time limit for returning back other than "sunset," she was free to move as she pleased.
Still, her memory fought her. Some things came easier than others. What should have been a simple task--she felt in her bones it was something she knew--would persist in stumping her every so often. She'd just finished loading a handful of healing herbs into the sixth basket when another new species caught her eye. Bright jade leaves... It looked so familiar, as if she'd seen it a thousand times over. A quick inspection of the plant would leave her at a loss, and on a whim she decided to taste it. The bitterness of it brought a hard grimace to her face.
"Oh, my. Gysahl leaves..." She tossed them aside to the dirt. She wasn't out here for that particular vegetable, but another tiny gap filled in her mental encyclopedia was worth the unpleasant taste. And with that memory came another, of her riding a chocobo as a young girl. Perhaps...the first time she'd ridden one? It was a flash of imagery and nothing more.
And so, she carried on. The baskets wouldn't fill themselves.
Sorry for the rambling, I'm having this thread take place earlier in Iggy's timeline C:
To say that Ignis was still finding his footing in this strange, new world would be an understatement. Or, at least, he assumed it to be a new world, given that he didn’t recognize the names of any cities, any people, or much else at all. His mind was rife with information, though it seemed most of it would be useless without his sight. The only name that ever drifted to his mind, Noct, had yet to surface. No one, other than the people who had saved him outside of the city and the hospital kind enough to house him for the moment, even knew who he was.
For some reason, that felt the strangest. To be unknown. In the back of his mind something screamed, day and night, that he was supposed to be doing something very important. It caused his chest to ache, and his one functioning eye to painfully water in the middle of the night. Drowning, in the unknown.
Yet, each day Ignis rose with a purpose and desire to better himself. He was recently blind, that much had been made clear by Cissnei when she bandaged his wounds in the forest, and though the flesh was still painfully healing, Ignis didn’t let it hold him back from pursuing life once more. With the help of a compassionate physician, he’d begun a rocky recovery. Getting used to a sight cane would take time, he was told, and Ignis was desperate to conquer the tool and his newest affliction as quickly as he could.
As to why, he couldn’t tell. There was nothing but the burning desire to live.
Familiar with a certain path that led toward the quieter, greener edge of the city, Ignis Scientia set about a particular task he’d been attempting to conquer. He no longer had his sight to identify creatures, plants, spices … There was nothing but his other senses left to help him. Dressed in his white button up and dark pants, the blonde made his way down the familiar path, the rhythmic tap, tap of his cane against the stone a welcome distraction from the flurry of questions that constantly plagued his mind.
Eventually, the path turned from stone to dirt. In the distance, Ignis could hear the distant calls of farm animals. The wind no longer carried the scent of sea salt, but fresh cut greenery, fertilizer, and blooming flowers. The local farmers were fine with the blind blonde foraging about, so long as he didn’t take too much, or accidentally stomp about a field. Stick to the path, don’t stray onto someone’s property.
It had less to do with kindness, and more to do with pity.
He’d set about, day after day, feeling along the plants to remember what they were. To memorize their textures and environments. Ignis was feeling more comfortable with typical farm vegetables. Carrots, corn, the stalk of nightshade that hid potatoes underneath the dirt. Those he could find in markets, of course, but with little money to his name other than what he’d received out of pity, identifying the plants in nature would likely be necessary.
Today, he was focused on attempting to find certain herbs. Though the clinic provided him with free, small meals in order to sustain his health while he adapted to his new condition, Ignis couldn’t help but miss the tang and pep of herbs and spices. He missed the burn of pepper, the umami of garlic, the floral notes of basil and thyme. Finding herbs was particularly difficult without sight, as many of them didn’t betray their wonderful taste until they were snapped or ground down. However, a wild patch of dill not far off of the main road had caught the blonde’s attention days earlier -- and if growing conditions were right for such a sensitive herb, perhaps there were others nearby.
With his sight cane strap lagging around his wrist, Ignis felt along the shrubs just off of the beaten path. He’d found the patch of dill, its soft leaves tickling the ends of his fingers. Kneeling down, the blonde felt along the patch, noting where it softened out to dirt, before coming along to a tender stalk. His fingers danced further up the plant, feeling the leaves against his skin. Tender and crisp, not fuzzy. More of an oval shape, perhaps just bigger than his thumb. In the distance, Ignis could hear someone else moving about the brush, but the presence didn’t bother him. After all, most people ignored him, once they saw the state of his face and eyes.
He broke apart the leaf, taking in the scent. It smelled like spring, but … that was it. Likely not a familiar herb, after all.
"Oh, my. Gysahl leaves..."
A woman’s voice drifted along the brush, along with the noticeable sound of a mouth working out a particularly strong flavor. A sound he’d slowly begun to find familiar, the more he simply sat and listened to the world. Ignis smiled, though not at the young woman’s misfortune. He, too, knew what it was like to rediscover certain textures and tastes, feeling foolish for never having paid things much mind past their appearances.
“Ah, the bitter taste of discovery,” Ignis spoke through the foliage, still on his knees by the patch of dill, “I believe I made a similar mistake just days ago. You have my condolences.”
Should he have just remained quiet? Perhaps. The blind blonde wasn’t looking for another person to awkwardly avoid him, nor to pity him. But, just maybe, he missed the human interaction that used to feel so … natural.
But its too late, to go back. I can see the darkness, through the cracks. Daylight fading, I curse the breaking. The day is gone.
While the bitterness would soon work its way from her tongue, a new sound drifted over to her ears. A voice. It was obscured some by the shrubbery but she could tell roundabout where he was kneeling--or perhaps sitting? Aera looked over and there, knelt to her right, was a lone wayfarer. The sight of his eyes and the cane would tell her that he had severe, if not complete, vision problems. What had marred his sight so badly, she wondered?
"Thank you," she said softly, appreciating the show of sympathy. "With mistakes come knowledge, though I've found lately that learning's been quite the insatiable beast." Mistakes aplenty, that was for certain. They were little things, mostly. Things she'd forgotten. But then there had been a bit of a rough patch during her initial stay in Sonora and being clueless as to the cultures of this land had not helped in the slightest.
"You are out gathering herbs, as well?" she guessed, picking up another to add to her own batch. She inspected another plant but found it wasn't at maturity yet and left it to its own in the dirt. "I'm on errand for one of the farmers in Provo. The land here is new to me but the soil is not." Potentially phrased a smidgen too figuratively, but Aera was comfortable with plants and earthen chores. She could plant and harvest and nourish anything green, but the where was the precious foreign piece of the puzzle she'd found herself in. Sonora had been a hurdle, though Provo felt significantly more laxed in comparison. Slower. More peaceful. Maybe because of the nature of tasks like this one, the pace of daily life and trade, the essence of more simplistic trades...
Aera spared another glance to her company out here in the field. A taller stature, well dressed, cordial in tongue. Perhaps...royalty? Or a servant to such. And he was out here alone, which meant he was either too trusting or more capable than he appeared. She hoped for the latter.
There was a brief pause where the young woman moved about lightly, likely searching for him among the brush. For a moment, he wished she wouldn’t, fearing that when she saw him, she’d behave like many others had. Avoidance. Awkwardness. For him, at the time, it was better to be nothing but a disembodied voice that could share something so simple as the taste of a bitter leaf. Instead, he was bodied-- not able bodied, and a sore sight for many eyes.
However, her response was tempered and soft. Ignis could almost picture a light smile spread across her lips. The tone of her voice carried something that whispered familiarity. Was it the accent, or merely the wordage?
Ignis was lost in his thoughts, still kneeling in the dirt as the young woman continued, “You are out gathering herbs, as well? I'm on errand for one of the farmers in Provo. The land here is new to me but the soil is not."
The land here is new to me, but the soil is not.
Those words resonated with him. The blonde furrowed his brows as he considered what the young woman said. Was she implying what he thought she may be? Or was he simply looking too far into things? Ignis pushed himself up from the dirt, rubbing his hands together in a useless effort to shake as much of the soil from them as he could. It didn’t take sight for him to know that the dirt clung to his hands, deep in the rivets of his palm lines and under his nails. There was simply no avoiding it when one was gardening or foraging, after all.
“I’m afraid I’m not out here to collect any today,” Ignis spoke in the direction he figured the young woman was in, based on her last movement, “I’m … re-learning how to forage for them, I suppose.”
It felt strange to say that out loud. Of course, he’d been digging around in the dirt for a few days now, but admitting to someone else that he was teaching himself how to, once again, be self-sufficient was … different. Ignis had really only admitted his newly found weakness to himself. He pushed his hand through his limp hair, a nervous habit, before cursing quietly to himself. How much dirt had he sullied his head with? Did he even appear clean to begin with? How awful and sad he must have seemed, a blind man wallowing in the dirt ---
“Where are my manners?” Ignis blurted out suddenly, forcing a polite smile to his face, pushing himself far from the pit of despair his mind would try to pull him toward. He bowed for a moment at the waist, before rising to his full height once more, “My name is Ignis Scientia. I would be happy to assist you best I can, of course, if you would like the company.”
But its too late, to go back. I can see the darkness, through the cracks. Daylight fading, I curse the breaking. The day is gone.
So, they were both on a journey of discovery, it seemed. The stranger in the field nearby was trying to relearn foraging, which she wondered the larger purpose for. Was he a survivalist? A healer? A chef? Or just a hobbyist with plants? He didn't elaborate, and for the moment she wouldn't question him further, only giving a nod (out of reflex) and a quiet, "I see." Her voice was soft, unjudging. She could empathize with the gruelingly slow process he was in the middle of. Aera herself was going to be in the middle of her own for quite some time. Memories returned on their own time, not hers.
The Oracle reached for another handful of one of the bitter roots she'd been tasked with gathering, and the stranger seemed suddenly jarred away from his own task by lack of etiquette and offered her a smile and a bow. How kind. Ignis...Scientia? She didn't recognize the family name, and there was, actually, no reason for her to. But a part of her had wished that she had--if only to be able to grasp onto something familiar.
The offer for aid would earn a bright smile from the woman, and while Ignis would not be able to see it, he would likely hear it in her tone. "That would be lovely," she said. "As long as I'm not keeping you from anything pressing." Foraging didn't sound pressing, but it was only polite to make certain.
"My name is Aera Fleuret," she told him, wondering briefly if her family name was known in this land. Her kin had been prominent before her death, though she was yet unaware of the heights her bloodline had risen to in the years following, back in Eos. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ignis." There was only a very certain ease in her voice, the woman clearly unfazed by his appearance, or the dirt, or anything else the man was potentially feeling self-conscious about. There was, to her, no need.
"There is a strain of bitter roots I'm gathering. The leaves are waxy with sharp edges. They're ready to harvest when they pull easily from the dirt." A small tug would indicate if the opposite was true and the plant would yet remain rooted. It was the most abundant in this area of the field by far, though the sheer number of them that she'd been asked to retrieve would mean it wasn't something quickly done.
"That would be lovely. As long as I'm not keeping you from anything pressing."
While he couldn’t see it, Ignis could very much hear the happiness in her tone of voice -- like sunshine, peeking through the parting clouds on a spring day. He drank it in all the same, just as the sun’s rays would warm his skin, having someone to speak to warmed his heart. The blonde kept his simple smile, shaking his head as he acknowledged her words, “No, of course not. I’m more than happy to help.”
Ignis removed himself from the patch of herbs, walking a few steps forward, a hand coming forward to find the tree he knew to be to his left. Where was it -- ah, there -- the bark felt cool against his fingers as he grounded himself, keeping his mind aware of his position in the field. The wind continued its gentle lull, blowing in quietly from the west. The leaves in the trees barely stirred at the subtle movement in the air, but it was enough for Ignis to be sure of where he was standing, and what might lie ahead.
"My name is Aera Fleuret."
The name gave Ignis pause as he blinked his eye, confusion and recognition both fighting at once for his attention. Fleuret? He … knew that name, did he not? The only name he truly remembered, Noctis, wasn’t the same, yet he could have sworn he’d heard the very same name come from Noct once before. Yet, the more he reached into the darkness of his blank memories, the more the name eluded him. He saw something -- white and red. Kind eyes.
It was gone, as soon as it had come to him.
“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Aera,” Ignis continued, nodding his head as he pushed the thought from his mind at the moment -- no need to appear anymore addled than he already was. The young woman seemed every bit as pleasant as she sounded, as if a permanent smile were curled at the end of her lips. He listened to her describe the type of plant she was searching for, and it seemed easy enough instructions for him to follow. Waxy with sharp edges … It reminded him of a type of bush that he was certain he once fell atop, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where or when that had happened in his life.
The sense of that familiar itch and prickle, though, when the edges of those leaves had touched him could be his guide to help out the fair lady. Ignis turned back toward the green area, bending down every foot or so to feel at the plants. Thin twigs came his way, and once, the delicate petals of flowers. He frowned, fingers dancing over the foliage as he searched along, not wishing to bother Aera by asking for any further assistance. He could do this. He could.
“Might I ask you a personal question, Lady Aera?” Ignis inquired instead, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he bent back down at the waist, hands eagerly searching the flora, “You said this land is new to you ... Where is it that you've come from?"
It seemed the only non-strange way to ask if she’d woken up in a new world. After all, Ignis didn’t take the news well when he’d been found in the forest, either. Disoriented and injured, he’d taken days to accept the fact that none of the city names sounded familiar, nor did any of the people. Instead, in his mind, he contained an encyclopedic knowledge of … well, of a place that didn’t exist, as far as these people were concerned.
Her voice didn’t fit in, among this world and its people. Neither did her name, his mind quietly whispered.
Something prickled at his fingers. Ignis let out a small noise of triumph as he felt the waxy texture of the leaves, his fingers carefully tracing down the length of the stem until it touched the soil. He attempted to pull the root from the surface, though, it had little give. The blonde gave a hmph and let it be. If there was one here, there were surely more.
But its too late, to go back. I can see the darkness, through the cracks. Daylight fading, I curse the breaking. The day is gone.
More than happy to help, and helping a stranger, no less. What a kind soul. Aera noted the lack of recognition to her family name, though that didn't guarantee it wasn't known where Ignis himself hailed from--only that it hadn't sparked immediate familiarity. She made no comment, instead moving on to pull one of the needed roots from the soil. It was freed easily from the earth and she added it to one of the baskets.
A soft hum would acknowledge the man's cordial return. He was so polite. More proper than many of the farmers in Provo she'd met thus far. Or many of the common folk, for that matter. And then...a personal question? She nodded with a soft, "Sure." If it was too personal--to provide an acquaintance the answer, anyway--she could refuse. But that didn't bar him from asking it.
His inquiry was about where she was from. And that...seemed natural, really. Others had asked her the same thing. And oh, the trouble she'd gone through in Sonora when she'd first arrived as some otherworldly foreigner, the looks she'd received... Revealing the same to Ignis now was no more than she'd already done. "Eos," she answered. "But it was a different time. The technology here is new to me, as well. I..." She paused, wondering how deep into her cumbersome backstory she should go to give him proper context--and then decided that less was better for now. "Might I return your question? You stated you were re-learning some things, though I feel that may not be entirely due to what has befallen your sight." She had phrased it as gently as she could, trying to be understanding whilst also trying not to insult him by being too blunt with the obvious.
Ignis almost missed the rest of her explanation as his mind attached to that one, familiar word. His fingers fumbled amongst the greenery, diving down into soft dirt as he caught himself from falling forward in his crouched position. He swallowed dryly, uncertainty filling his lungs as the name tumbled over and over in his mind. That was the name of his world, was it not? Or was he simply longing for such familiarity that the word inserted itself into his vocabulary?
Preposterous. It was no common name. The only explanation had to be that … It was the same place.
However, Lady Aera Fleuret seemed convinced she was from a different point in time, mentioning the technology around the area was new to her. For as much as Ignis couldn’t remember, he did recall machinery and tech quite easily. The grind of gears, the whir of electricity. Big machines that seemed too impossibly large to move, flying through the sky with ease. Cars cruising along the roads. If anything, Provo seemed too quiet. It was missing the constant buzz of technology that would sing along with the movement of humans. There was plenty of machines in the area, of course, but not the sheer number that Ignis felt there should have been.
This information altogether … What did it mean? The blonde hardly had the time to begin to piece it together, before the question was turned around on him. Ignis kept low to the ground, his hands retracting from the dirt as he considered how to answer that specific question. Would he be revealing a vulnerability of himself? He couldn’t lie, but without a perfect memory, he couldn’t be sure if he were telling the truth, either.
Lady Aera had hit the nail on the head, so flawlessly. He was missing more, so much more than his sight.
“You would be correct,” Ignis replied smoothly, clearing the hesitation from his voice as he relaxed his shoulders, “I woke up in this world with a grievous injury, and quite the case of amnesia I’m afraid.”
He didn’t have much to explain, for better or worse. The few key memories he had all involved a boy named Noct, and the fierce desire to protect him was ever present. Aside from that, everything he seemed to know was … Situational, educated type of knowledge. The names of beasts, cities, weapons. Detailed maps in his mind, now useless in another world. Historical knowledge. He had a name, he had power, but other than that Ignis had very little to treasure.
Dusting his hands free of the dirt, Ignis rose to his full height for a moment, stretching his long legs, “I came from Eos as well. I know that I am from Insomnia, the crown city of Lucis, but other than that I …”.
The fog in his mind taunted him, refusing to part even now, with another suffering soul so close.
“I don’t remember much else.”
But its too late, to go back. I can see the darkness, through the cracks. Daylight fading, I curse the breaking. The day is gone.
Waking up injured and without memory...what a frightening combination. Aera had had the fortune to have been brought away from the astral plane in the slumber of death, and while she had arrived confused and with slight memory issues, it was nothing compared to what Ignis had been dealt.
"I see..." Her tone was saddened, soft. She continued her work with the roots, though, plucking another and placing it in the basket. Ignis stood and stated that he, too, had come from Eos. The same world as her. And from the crown city? Did that mean he was of royal descent? He'd given her his name and he hadn't implied such, but she did wonder.
Aera gave a gentle nod. He didn't remember much beyond that, and she understood. "It's all right," she assured. "I've met others with memory problems. Those from other worlds. And I've heard about the gates. It's a strange thing, happening here. I pray every night to the divines that they guide us through, well, whatever this is." She didn't have a proper term for any of it. Perhaps it didn't need one.
"At the least, it is comforting to meet another from my world," she said in a brighter tone. "While from different times, we are of similar origin and share similar struggles. There's something to be said for not suffering alone." It was a common sentiment among people. In her travels she'd met many of the sick who had found solace in simply not being alone--no matter how bad things got.
Aera wasn't sure if Ignis planned to continue helping with the gathering, but she would do so, focusing again on her task for the moment and plucking three more bitter roots from the dirt.
There came the sadness, the pity that Ignis had been used to hearing as of late. He wasn’t offended, of course. She was not sad for the state of his eyes, but for everything -- as he was as well. Losing his sight had been difficult, but not near as difficult as losing his memories and his knowledge had been. Every day felt like a new day of discovery, and while that could have been exciting, for him it was simply frustrating. Frustrating that he could remember so little about his very own life.
Aera had met others with similar memory problems. Well, that was certainly new information. Though he knew he should simply feel terrible for those in the same boat as himself, he couldn’t help but feel a slight comfort. He wasn’t the only one, then. With that knowledge, he could comfortably continue on as he had before; waking every day with the mission to remember more, experience more, and retain every bit of it.
He felt strange, standing still in the middle of the unknown. For a moment, Ignis felt a slight sense of panic, having felt he’d forgotten how many steps away he was from the path. To distract himself, he knelt back into the brush, hands searching for the leaves that Aera had described to him before. At last, success. The waxy leaves and stems gave way easily to a plucked root. The scent of freshly moved earth filled his senses, as Ignis felt along the root itself; cool from being under the ground, a small film of moist earth, the root end like a tail, covered in small trichomes.
There is something to be said, for not suffering alone.
“Right you are, Lady Aera,” Ignis confirmed, feeling around the grasses for more waxy textured leaves, “I hate to say that I find some comfort in knowing I am not one-of-a-kind, from our world. Perhaps, there is hope for me to find the only friend I do remember.”
Another root was plucked from the earth, joining its sister in Iggy’s left hand. Two roots hardly seemed helpful, but really, he felt accomplished for having discovered even one in this state. He would remember how the leaves felt against his fingers, how they pricked at the skin. He would remember the feel of the roots, and the subtle scent buried underneath the smell of fresh earth. He would remember this.
“Your name … It sounds so familiar to me,” Ignis admitted, pushing his glasses back up his nose as they began to dip with him being bent over for too long, “I wish I could place it. Fleuret. All that comes to mind is … blonde. White patterns. Important, to Noct.”
No more waxy leaves met his fingers, and so Ignis stood, offering out the few he had managed to collect for the time being in the direction he heard Aera moving.
“I do recall quite a bit of historical knowledge,” the blonde murmured, more to himself as the thought sat more comfortably amongst the rest of his strained mind, “Different times … Do you remember? Anything, from your time?”
But its too late, to go back. I can see the darkness, through the cracks. Daylight fading, I curse the breaking. The day is gone.
