Noctis was alive.

It was in another time, in a future that he himself would likely never witness, but Noct had survived. Somehow, they had brought about the end of the Starscourge and prevented the blood sacrifice required to do so. A part of Ignis wanted to beg for the answer; tell me, what is it we did to prevent his death, please, I’ll do anything. However, he held back, keeping the desperate part of his soul from lashing out. There would be time for questions later, if necessary. The answer … how important was it, in this new world where everything was different, everything had changed, and their own world was … possibly so far away.

Was the Starscourge even in this world? Had Ardyn come along with them? So very much was completely different in this world where Kings of Lucis weren’t known and Oracles didn’t command the favor of gods.

Caius’s sacrifice, of course, had not escaped Iggy’s attention. He bowed his head politely for a moment, and through the immense relief he felt Ignis replied, “Thank you. For keeping him safe.”

With that bit of knowledge now tucked away, Iggy figured a change in topic was coming. It wasn’t kind, after all, to continue to focus on the time of another man’s death – just as Caius had realized it was painful for Ignis to speak much about his own recent, horrifying experience and subsequent recovery. Iggy released a held breath, calming his nerves as he shifted just a bit on the bed, working a small ache from his legs.

However, the topic didn’t change. Instead, it seemed, Caius had intuitively picked up on the tone of Ignis’s voice. Iggy froze, his still polite smile in place, and considered for a moment how he should reply to the glaive’s inquiry. It would be easy enough to say that he was simply concerned for Noctis’s well-being, no matter what world or future he was in. A believable excuse. But, was it truly necessary to lie? The man inquiring had given up his very life to protect Noctis, after all. If anyone deserved the truth…

Well, Noctis did, first and foremost. He and Prompto … if they didn’t already know, he should tell them. He would, when the moment presented itself.

Ignis let his smile naturally fall away into something more sad and somber. He moved his unseeing gaze away from the window, instead turning his head down – as if staring at his hands, crossed in his lap. His fingers threaded together, the pad of this thumb rubbing against his nail.

It was simply cruel, that one of the very last things he would ever see would be that terrible scene.

“I was … granted a vision, prior to losing my sight,” Ignis muttered, wishing more than anything he could forget what he’d seen – the truth of their future, “For Noctis to become the Chosen King, a sacrifice was to be made. In order for him to purge the Starscourge, to wield a power beyond that of the gods and the kings – he was to give his life.”

It haunted Iggy so very often, choking him like ice freezing his lungs. Seeing Noct, grown and regal and strong, impaled again and again on the throne. To see him fight and win his battle against the darkness, only to vanish away into nothingness. For that to be his fate … it was unacceptable, to Ignis. Had Noct not suffered enough, his entire life? How was it fair to him, to have been born a sacrifice? If anyone deserved to bring peace to the world and get to experience the fruits of their labor, it was Noctis.

I want to share my tomorrows with him, Ignis recalled thinking, while he was remembering the cursed vision of the future trapped in his prison cell, He deserves to feel the sun on his face each and every day for the rest of his life.

Iggy swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat. There was no sense in lingering on the thought; after all, it was a vision of a future he wasn’t even sure was possible at this point. His resolve would not waver either way – Ignis would care for Noctis, until the very end. However, he would not allow the end to come so early; not if it could be helped.

“Clearly, we must have managed to avoid such a thing in your future,” Ignis allowed himself to stop fidgeting with his fingers, a small, sad smile coming back to his scarred face, “I … will do whatever it takes, to keep Noctis alive. To ensure he is able to live happily and comfortably. That is what he deserves. Not what the gods demand of him.”

A hand made contact with his own, and in a moment it was wrapped in a warm and comforting embrace. Ignis took in a quiet breath, his eye widening just a bit as reality finally cemented itself into place. Prompto really was here in the room with him, he was here and he was real and he was safe, and everything else his dear friend was saying was true. Despite his true exhaustion, Iggy curled his fingers around Prompto’s hand and held on as tightly as he could.

When he blinked, he felt the next tear fall. But, he couldn’t bring himself to mind it.

Ignis was content to listen to Prompto speak, smiling weakly – but truly happily at the blonde’s stories. Normally, he would have urged Prompto to relax, knowing well that he tended to ramble when emotions were running high. In a different time and place, Iggy would have gently rubbed his friend’s back and urged him to keep taking calming, deep breaths, having him focus on what he really wanted to say rather than saying everything that came to mind. But right now, getting to hear the everything was much more soothing than anything else truly could have been.

However, it seemed Prompto had been struggling to fill more shoes than just his own – as anyone would. If Ignis had more strength, he would have put guilt on his own shoulders for not having been there to protect Prompto from nearly taking a punch. But at the moment, weak and exhausted and in pain, all he could do was find quiet solace in the fact that Prompto and Noctis were both okay; even if Noctis had tried getting them in trouble with the usual, occasional bad idea.

“Maybe now…,” Iggy muttered quietly with a shaky smile, swallowing in the pause to try and clear the rough, hoarseness from his voice, “... You’ll help me stop … his bad ideas … rather than contribute to them…”.

His chest shook with quiet laughter for only a moment before Ignis spoke again, voice cracking as more tears slipped from his eye.

“I won’t … leave you both alone again … I promise. I promise.”

The hesitation in Caius’s movements did not escape Iggy’s notice. He’d always been an avid studier of people; the movements of their gaze, the twitch of a hand – little things that would give away how they felt or betray their intentions in the grand scheme of things. While he had lost plenty with his eyesight, his talents for reading others had thankfully managed to adapt, survive, and thrive. The half second delay, the deep breath, they told Ignis all he needed to know to set the tone of this meeting.

However, Ignis made no mention of the awkward tension in the air, choosing to keep his small, polite smile. Caius was kind in turn, inquiring about Iggy’s well-being first and foremost. It was a question he wished he could simply wave away because, as kind and wonderful as everyone around him had been regarding his recovery, Iggy was quite tired of being asked how he was feeling. It was something the nurses had to ask him several times a day. It took him quite some time to learn to be honest with his health care team – rather than automatically replying fine even though he wasn’t, but it was still easy enough to dodge with others.

“I’m healing up quite well, or so I’m told,” Ignis replied honestly, crossing his hands over his lap and lacing his fingers together, “The progress is slower than I would like, as you might imagine. But, there’s nothing more I could ask of anyone at this time.”

They had all fretted over him enough as it was, after all.

Caius seemed to know such an answer was coming, as he acknowledged Iggy and then moved the conversation onward into something new and surprising. Ignis couldn’t help the way his eyebrows lifted toward his hairline as he listened to Caius’s tale. He was aware that everyone in this world seemed to come from different places, even times – that much was evident when his last memory and Prompto’s didn’t quite match up. However, to be from somewhere so far in the future, Iggy had some difficulty grasping the concept. In Caius’s world, the Starscourge was no more and Ignis himself had played a part in it?

Ignis took a quiet moment to digest this information, his brows slowly knitting down in concentration as he felt something, a fuzzy memory perhaps, buzz in the back of his mind. Forcing his manners to the forefront, Iggy was sure to keep a polite smile and bow his head slightly, “It’s … comforting to hear that, somewhere out there, we were able to bring about the end of the Starscourge.”

He could only imagine what that world would look like. The scourge had plagued humanity for such a long, long time, it shaped the very essence of the landscape, her villages and cities, the bonds between her people. Though Ignis was pulled from his world, or however this worked, Lucis still saw peace at some point, and there was confirmation of that from someone who witnessed it first hand.

Still, something bothered him. Ignis cast his blind gaze toward the light he could barely detect from the window; his smile suddenly unsure.

“Noct…,” he trailed off, his tone curious and quiet, “In this future of yours, is he … alright?”

Ignis was well on his way to recovery.

It was a long sought victory to be sure. He had gone from spending the majority of his time unconscious in the hospital bed, awake only for brief enough moments, to now being conscious the majority of the day. He was still somewhat fatigued and bedraggled for sure, but it was reassuring to be toward the end of his recovery rather than stuck at the start. While imprisoned, each day had been focused solely on survival and the constant adrenaline needed to stay alive persisted over the pain. Now that he had time to focus on addressing each issue, time to rest and revive and recover, he had become all-too-aware of the near permanent damage caused by his incarceration.

Iggy was certainly looking forward to things once considered mundane that he now found exciting. A haircut, for one, he thought as his fingers brushed back a too-long lock of dirty blonde hair. Being able to explore different coffee choices for another. The now finished mug on the bedside table had been an acceptable cup of joe, but it certainly fell short of everything he was able to once get in Insomnia. That said, the first drop of coffee to touch his lips after freedom had been nothing short of blissful. Being able to walk the halls freely and dress in his usual fashion, rather than loose bottoms and a hospital gown. Those days were growing ever closer.

There were still many things to be discussed, of course. Ignis had spoken with both Noctis and Prompto several times at this point, but each conversation seemed to steer clear of anything too terribly stressful. Iggy could feel that they were doing this for his benefit, not wanting to overwhelm him – possibly at the request of the medical staff. However, it was also somewhat annoying, as a man who tended to know all the ins and outs of the world. Being blind was limiting enough, as he could no longer read a newspaper or easily take notes; his only source of information was now the spoken word, whether or not he was intended to hear what was said.

Perhaps he was being paranoid, but there seemed to be a lot of things going unsaid, these days.

Ignis reached toward the bedside table, picking up a shirt he’d been working on mending. A project, something to keep his mind and fingers occupied when boredom dared to set in or he became overwhelmed. Needle and thread were something that didn’t require his eyesight, but without that sense he had to focus more on the feel of what he was doing. The remaining aches and pains of his body slowly faded into the background as his fingers found work, carefully threading through a tear in the fabric.

He wasn’t sure who’s shirt it was, nor did he really care, to be frank. Anything to occupy the time while alone.

The quiet was, blissfully, not meant to last it seemed. Iggy heard the sounds of approaching footsteps – heavy boots and a long stride. He paused for a moment, frowning in thought. It wasn’t an immediately familiar gait, but it was one he’d detected outside of his door a time or two. Likely not an employee with a footfall such as that one. The door slid open, and a masculine voice carried over the silence.

A man named Caius. The name rung a bell. Ignis furrowed his brows in thought, attempting to place the name and voice. It seemed … a long time ago, perhaps? Oh, it had been right when he’d awoken in this world, hadn’t it? Bleeding, freshly blind, confused. Iggy recalled very little from their encounter through the panic, exhaustion, and pain, but knew that the man was to be trusted. He’d also come out of the woodwork to help with the rescue plan, if Ignis was correct from what he’d been told.

“Yes, I do remember,” Iggy admitted, sitting up straighter as he set aside his needle and thread project, “Though, I’m afraid, I don’t recall much from our initial meeting. I was in quite the state.”

Amused at the irony of him saying such a thing from a hospital bed, Ignis couldn’t help but chuckle, “Not unlike my current situation, I suppose. We need to stop meeting like this, as the saying goes.”

Ignis gestured to the chair he knew was close to the bed, beside the window, offering for Caius to take a seat, “Please, make yourself comfortable Caius. Is there something I can do for you?”