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year 5, quarter 3
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The crackle of a fire. The hushed tones of fellows quietly speaking to one another.
As he took a few seconds to adjust, Ignis was able to take in the scents and sounds. The full-bodied aroma of coffee still tantalizingly stroked his senses, yet he was also picking up on something fresh. Herbs. Ah, tea, definitely different types of tea. Lavender, and oh, was that earl grey? All of the delicate smells twisted and twirled together, warming his chest and causing his shoulders to relax. How long had it been, since he’d sat down with a simple cup of tea to do nothing more than admire the weather?
It felt like an eternity.
“Welcome to the café Master…”
A familiar voice caused Ignis to turn his head sharply, searching for the source. That tone, he knew it. The blonde opened his mouth, but closed it as the name threatened to leave his tongue before he could catch it. The warmth of crackling fire and the lulling scents of coffee and tea had warmed his senses and his body, but hearing a familiar voice warmed his very soul. It was the first time, since he’d awoken to darkness in this world, that Iggy had heard the same voice more than once.
“My apologies Master Ignis. I am humbled you have arrived. Please, have a seat by the fire. May I take your coat?”
Cissnei.
Hands softly guided themselves underneath his elbow and upon his arm, gently leading him into the room. The further he moved with each step, his cane slack in his grip, the warmer the air became. It was quickly becoming stifling in his coat, Ignis barely registered, as he struggled to come up with a coherent thought of what to say to Cissnei. He owed her his life, after all. It was she who found him, blind and bleeding in the forest, and patched him up. She had taken him to a doctor, to get the help he needed. Without her, would he have been slain by daemons? By common monsters? He was a defenseless, helpless man, howling in pain and sightless.
“Cissnei, I--,” Ignis began, embarrassed by the way the words fumbled about his mouth. What could he say? What should he … No, no she was working, clearly. He would have to find the time to snag her for thanks as other people began to shuffle out of the cafe. Ignis cleared his throat, “That would be … lovely. Thank you, miss.”
Ignis missed the top of the seat with the first swipe of his hand, but located it the second time, only taking a seat after Cissnei had gently removed his coat. He truly wished he could have removed it himself, but it would have been strange, given the environment he was in. Ignis was a customer in a cafe for the gods sakes -- if it had been anyone else in the world, perhaps he wouldn’t have felt so awkward about it. Instead, he wished he’d gotten the opportunity to show that he was fully capable of taking care of himself. No, no, there was likely a coat rack somewhere else in the room, and he would have looked strange, sitting with his coat on the back of the chair.
The blonde took a moment to make himself comfortable, carefully snapping his sight cane back into its travel size to slip into his pocket. No need to potentially have someone trip over it, after all. Ignis heard the door jingle open once more, the cool air only temporarily brushing past as the door was shut. From the entrance Ignis could have sworn he heard a child giggling, but he attempted to ignore it for just a moment to speak to Cissnei.
“I understand you’re working,” Ignis muttered, feeling she was close by, but not wanting to call too much attention to himself, “But, I would love the chance to chat, if you have the time. Perhaps, after a cup of coffee?”
Small footsteps hurried their way toward the table. Ignis cleared his throat, forcing a small smile onto his face, in order to appear more friendly, and less confused and flustered. Curses, he hoped to be over such flustering soon enough.
"Hi Cissnei! Oh... I'm not interrupting am I? I assumed you two had finished but..."
The voice was much higher pitched than Cissnei’s -- the sound of a younger girl, but not that of a child. Her tone was immature, in an adorable sort of sense. The kind of unabashed, eager natures only younger teenagers could have. The younger girl seemed to know Cissnei as well, though, and Ignis remained politely silent, so the two could converse.
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.
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.
There was a ruckus in the streets that rumbled louder than even the machines that pumped the city full of its vibrant life. Ignis tugged his coat closer as the icy wind kicked up once more, bringing with it the undeniably unpleasant scents of the city. Finding the city of Sonora was a piece of cake, even for a blind man. He could smell it miles and miles away. However, things seemed much more chaotic than even he expected. There was talk of dragons and other such destructive activities that were plaguing the area.
The thought of a giant, winged beast swooping down on him caused Ignis to grimace, yet still, he persevered onward. Despite all of its flaws, there was something about the city that felt familiar. More nostalgic than the quiet cottage outside of Mount Hotan, or the seaside air of Provo. The sounds were more familiar, the roar of crowds, the clink of machinery. Had he been from a city? Or, was Noct from a city? Despite all of his urging, the memories refused to reach back out to him.
Another smell wafted through the air -- something pleasant and bold, that instantly warmed his heart. The aroma of coffee. Oh, by the gods, it had been so very long since he’d tasted a cup of coffee, warm or cold. He still had a little gil to his name … Maybe enough for a warm cup of coffee, and a conversation with a stranger while he formed an idea or two of how to proceed in the city. He needed to come up with a plan for a place to stay, and a job if he intended to stay off of the streets for more than a couple of days.
Ignis followed the scent down a sidewalk, his sight cane tapping in front of him to avoid objects, cracks, and holes. The winter weather was unkind to the pavement, making it even less so to a man who couldn’t rightly see it. Other scents began to mix and meld with the coffee -- was he in a restaurant district? Eventually, he came to where the wafting aroma of coffee seemed to originate. He felt for the door, finding the handle and pushing past the very light resistance.
Warm air welcomed the blonde, soothing his windblown cheeks. He shut the door quickly behind him, to keep out the frigid air as his body temperature began to slowly adjust to his new surroundings. Ignis listened carefully, but only found the low hum of a few guests. Oh, my, hopefully he hadn’t wandered into a closed cafe? His cheeks, already flushed from the wind, tinged even slightly more pink.
“Ah, hello? Would you happen to be open?” Ignis spoke to the room, mentally cursing his blind condition that kept him from being immediately aware of his surroundings. Gods, hopefully he didn’t look the fool that he felt. With his black coat still pulled tightly against him, he awaited a response. Oh, curses, his glasses were likely fogged as well, weren’t they?
He didn’t bother reaching for them.
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.
Ignis awakes in a strange place, with a grievous injury to his face and unable to see. He's helped by two strangers, Cissnei and Caius, who take him to Provo for treatment. Regrettably, he doesn't remember very much other than their help, because of the pain.
Recovered from the physical aspect of his injury, Ignis has taken to exploring Provo to the best of his abilities. He happens upon a young woman named Aera while searching for herbs, offering to help her.
On his way to Sonora, Ignis happens upon another young man traveling the road alone. Cloud shares his meager shelter, while Ignis offers to cook for the both of them.
Finally making it to Sonora, Iggy wanders into a cafe to warm up. Strangely, it's run by the very same person who saved him when he woke up in this world.
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.
The kind stranger held no hesitations in shaking hands with a blind man. Ignis felt the cool, smooth texture of leather against his fingers briefly as he shook hands with the young man; displaying a smile at the firm grasp. Cloud Strife, hm? His soft voice betrayed the strength of his hand, and Ignis couldn’t help but wonder exactly what his new companion looked like. The name Cloud -- soft, far away, endlessly wandering the sky above. But, Strife? Now, that was unfortunate.
Hopefully the young man’s life didn’t live up to such a last name.
The thought left the blind wanderer’s mind as soon as it had come as he listened to the sound of wood smacking flame, new angry licks and crackles as the fire searched for a way to eat away at its new fuel. Ignis took the moment to shrug the heavier coat from his shoulders, kneeling down to gently fold it and tuck it aside. The fire was plenty warm, he would be sweating in the extra layers given enough time. Instead, he stayed on his heels, unbuttoning his travel bag as Cloud broke the silence between them.
"You been on the road very long, Ignis?"
Too long for his own liking, he mused to himself as he nodded and answered calmly, “I believe it’s been a week, at this point. It’s been a little more difficult to track than it used to be.”
Had he the ability to smile and offer a reassuring wink, Iggy would have considered it. However, with his left eye lame, it would have looked like nothing but a strange blink. Instead, he kept the conversation moving as he felt around the contents of his travel pack, “I’m assuming you’ve been on the road quite a bit yourself, Mr. Strife. Your stomach speaks a little louder than your voice.”
Ignis was teasing him, of course. His tone was light and good natured, and he hoped not to offend the kind young man. His fingers found their target, pulling out something wrapped in parchment paper from his rucksack as he continued to kneel near the fire.
He had food to share. Ignis Scientia was resharpening all of his former talents on his journey, and though he knew he could no longer be the cook he once (vaguely) remembered being, he could still try his best. Wrapped inside of the parchment paper was the salted flank meat of a creature that was rabbit-esque -- gamey, but not too tough given the right touch. Cuts of meat were apparently similar across worlds, and it hadn’t taken Ignis long to memorize the feel of the different muscles and fats. Along with the herbs he’d found along the way, and the spices he’d managed to trade for … He had enough to feed the poor young man before him.
“You were kind enough to share your shelter,” Ignis spoke toward the fire as he slowly unwrapped the parchment paper, “I’d like to share what I can, as well.”
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.
SORRY I WAS REALLY FEELING THIS THREAD APPARENTLY LMAO
"Don't worry. I'm too tired to be lookin' for trouble."
Ignis released the breath he’d held in his chest, relaxing his shoulders as far as they were willing to droop. Not far, but enough to take the strain from his upper back, at least. The voice didn’t sound threatening. If anything, the young man simply sounded just as he’d described himself; too tired. He could sympathize, honestly, if the stranger had been trekking along the same road just as long as Ignis himself had been. Legs and feet aching, knowing they would ache even harder after a night’s rest.
“That would make two of us,” Scientia replied, giving a strained smile in the direction of the stranger. Or, so he hoped. He could feel the heat creeping from the vicinity of the hut now, rolling over him in a tantalizing wave of temporary comfort. It raised to brush his cheek, but as the wind whispered around him once more, it brought with it the familiar, stinging cold. Ignis furrowed deeper into his black coat, lined with wool but not enough to break the frosty breeze.
The fire hissed and whined as it churned through its fuel -- ever hungry for more.
"C'mon in and take a seat, then," Ignis heard the young man turn on his shoe, too rough to be a smooth loafer, perhaps it was a boot, "There's plenty of... floor."
That drew a brief, full-hearted chuckle from Iggy. My, how long had it been since someone had been so casual with him? “Many thanks,” the blind man replied, hiding his smirk behind a gloved hand, “I will happily take a floor around a fire rather than that blistering wind and nothing but an unfriendly bush for shelter.”
Ignis tapped at the ground, feeling out the landscape as he moved forward toward the voice and the crunching footsteps as the young man moved. The terrain was a tad uneven -- mostly overgrown weeds and the occasional stone or broken piece of wood. He did his best to be careful with his footing, after all, he didn’t want to come off helpless to a kind stranger. He didn’t want to come off as helpless at all. The blonde took in a breath as the air got warmer, flooding his remaining senses with smoke and comfort.
Thankfully, fire was quite easy to feel, even through a coat. Ignis mentally mapped out the location of the small blaze, before meandering through what was left of the hut. He tapped along what remained of the walls, feeling where wood gave way to the elements. The occasional board or nail snagged his cane, but not for long. It was all over in a mere minute, but Ignis was satisfied. He’d mapped his escape route, in case things were to somehow become sour.
Gently sitting down his bag of supplies on the ground, he straightened himself up to look as presentable as possible. Ignis couldn’t say for sure how well his clothes had fared thus far -- the white button up was likely at least smudged with dirt, but his black trousers should have hidden any further wear. The black leather straps attached to his pants were still lightly snug at the shoulder, meaning he’d at least not lost those buttons.
“I believe introductions are in order,” Ignis smiled, friendly as he snapped his cane to its smallest size, placing it in the travel pack attached to his thigh. He held out his hand toward the stranger, “Ignis Scientia, at your service, for as much as I may be worth these days.”
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.
"Perhaps," Ignis offered a response to the young man on the bike who had stopped to check on him, "Considering how long it's taking, though, I can't say I'm confident in his abilities."
He could do nothing but picture the young man's shrug as he took off further into the distance on his motorbike. The young man was far from the first to chide the blind man for his insistence on traveling by foot. Though most, seeing his sight cane, ignored him and moved onward, a few kind individuals had stopped to offer Scientia a ride, or directions at the very least. He had no map aside from the one in his mind; after all, it would be useless to have one for anything other than poor attempts at humor.
Ignis wanted to do this traveling alone, or at the very least, on foot. The only way to perfect living in his new condition was to truly live it, after all. He needed to feel the crunch of the gravel underneath of his boots. He needed to listen to and identify the sounds of all the creatures of both day and night, and everything in-between. He needed to tap his sight cane along the path and figure out a rhythmn. To feel and find the difference between a rock, a stump, an imprint in the dirt. It was as if he'd been reborn, and he had to re-learn the most basic of activities.
It didn't bother him, however. Not as much as it had in the beginning. Ignis still had all of his other skills, mastered after years and years of practice.
Not that he remembered much of that practice, but that was a different problem altogether.
Noct remained elusive in Ignis's travels thus far. No one had heard of the young man before, and the former royal retainer couldn't explain much aside from the name. That name plagued Scientia's mind day and night when he allowed his conscious to drift.
The wind began to whip a little harder as Ignis continued his way down the gravel path. He shuddered, pulling his wool-lined coat closer with his free hand. Against his hip bumped a bag, filled with supplies he'd collected along the way. Not even blindness could save the small creatures from Ignis's patience and practiced dagger throws. He could easily gut a small mammal in his sleep, and he'd managed to trade the occasional food-pest for spices or greenery.
Foraging for berries and other roots was a little trickier, without someone more familiar with the land. And Iggy had no desire to be the first to do a blind taste testing with random berries picked from a bush.
The sun was beginning to set. It was a little difficult to tell, but Ignis could still detect some faint light from his right eye. The slowly fading light warmed his front against the slightly chilly wind, but it did signal an end for the day. Even though he felt comfortable walking through the night -- he lived in constant darkness as it was -- he was not ready to run into a potential daemon. Though he hadn't encountered any yet, Scientia was considering it a lucky break.
After all, despite his stubborn insistence, his feet were aching and his stomach was churning. Traveling alone had its drawbacks.
The wind blew fiercely, drawing with it a familiar scent. Ignis paused on the path, furrowing his brows. Swirling in the air was the smell of fire. Nothing out of control, likely a campfire considering the scent of charred wood. Was there another lonely soul on the road, calling it quits to rest their laurels for the evening? Well, there was only one way to find out. Ignis followed the familiar scent as it tickled some far nostalgia in his foggy memories, pulling a small, but troubled smile to his face. A campfire ... it made him feel relaxed, and welcome.
Hopefully, he wouldn't be running into any trouble. The last thing Ignis wanted was to stumble upon a group of ruffians.
The scent grew stronger as he continued up the gravel path. He was getting closer, and yet, he couldn't hear the distinct sound of crackling wood. Perplexed, the blonde reached down and grabbed a small pebble from the path, tossing it far in front of him. Clink. Hm, there seemed to be something ahead of him. A structure, maybe? A home, or a cabin? He took a few more steps forward, tapping his cane along the side of the road. There seemed to be nothing but long grass there, so what--?
"Hey. Somebody there?"
One lone voice, partially obstructed. From the smell of it, his fire had mostly died down as well. That, or maybe it was being used in a chimney of sorts inside of the building.
Yet, the voice -- it sounded like a young man -- was clearer than it should have been it he was completely enclosed in a home. Well, there was no sense in denying his presence, he couldn't move silently. Ignis took a few more steps forward, his sight cane tapping along until he found something solid; a plank of wood.
"If I say yes," he spoke in the general direction of the voice, "I'm hoping there will be a mutual understanding of peace between us. I'm simply in need of somewhere to hunker down for the evening, if you don't mind sharing."
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.
Ignis heard a lot of things these days. That was most of his experience with the world now, of course, after losing his sight -- but the world simply seemed to be abuzz with all sorts of different exciting information all of the time. From tell of dragons and strange people, religions he’d never heard of and languages he didn’t understand; there was simply much to take in. His day-by-day activities had become much more restricted than they once were, if he had to hazard a guess, but Ignis never let himself, nor his daggers, become dull.
A combination of adventure and luck had found the former royal retainer working as a chef on a small farm, in the valley just east of Mount Hotan. The family he worked for was quite kind, giving him a room with a warm bed to sleep in, compensation for his stay and work, and most of all; treating him as if he were still human. Ignis hadn’t been awake for long in this world, and adjusting to a world of no sight took time. People tended to avoid him in the cities as he tripped over uneven stones or spoke in the wrong direction to others. Worse even, they pitied him.
Someone had seen he still had sharp skills to use, and plenty of talent to use it. Thanks to the generosity of the Howsier family, Ignis Scientia had resharpened his culinary skills, and practiced his combat at night against the hay bales. He helped with every day farm tasks; caring for livestock, cleaning pens, laundry -- anything a typical person could do. Everything took a little longer to learn, but once he knew what he was doing, Iggy did what he did best, and perfected it.
However, after some weeks with the family, word of something interesting came to Ignis. He was peeling potatoes when the oldest son entered the kitchen, taking two steps in before Scientia stopped him with a quick, “Shoes first, Morris. Your mother will be quite upset if you track mud through her home.”
The young man, Morris, scowled openly as he began to kick his boots off. Ignis smirked as he heard the bits of hardened mud bouncing off of the dirt mat and onto the hardwood. “Hey, this is hardworkin’ mud,” the teenager complained, with a touch of humor in his voice, “Ma should be happy I’m even here, Mr. Ignis. I could’a went on a trip with some of my friends.”
Without missing a beat, Ignis swapped out his perfectly peeled potato for a new tuber, an eyebrow raising with curiosity at the boy’s statement, “A trip with your friends, hm?"
“Yup. We were gonna go to the World Sight. It isn’t that far from here, y’know?”
The young man crossed the room, collecting a glass for water as Ignis continued his work at the sink. The World Sight? He’d only ever heard of such a thing through whispers on the streets in the city. Apparently, something had occurred there shortly before he’d arrived into this world. A pillar of light that, supposedly, called to people of all types. That was all he’d ever really heard about it, however. He found most people not keen on speaking with strangers.
Ignis tossed the potato in the air, catching it before it hit the bottom of the sink, “Dare I ask why your friends want to visit such a place?”
“Why wouldn’t we? After that whole big light thing--,” Morris paused, taking a drink of his water, clearing his voice before continuing, “Wait. I forget you ain’t been around here long. You can’t even see it out the window there.”
A thin smile spread across Scientia’s face, “Correct. I’d no idea it was even in viewing distance, until now.”
“Yeah, so,” Ignis heard the scrape of wood on wood as the teenager pulled out a chair at the table, his half-full glass of water hitting the table with a thud, “All the legends say that the World Sight is actually a tomb for some warrior of light from long, long ago, or somethin’ like that, right? Well, then the tower just shoots out a crazy light one day and suddenly all sorts’a people are flockin’ to it like bugs to a fire. Then, after a while, the light went away. I heard someone say that somethin’ done got took, but ain’t no one allowed to go up there, y’know? It’s protected by some real scary folk.”
Ignis scraped the skin from his current potato without trouble, despite how intently he was listening to the story. Something about it felt … strangely familiar. A tomb of a warrior -- why did that feel important to him? His heart quickened at the mention of it, and his mind was suddenly screaming at him that it was something important he was supposed to be doing. Not … cooking dinner. Finding this tomb. But, why? The blonde slid his finished potato into the second bowl, forcing his fingers to grab another to peel. He missed once, despite knowing exactly where the bowl was. He was too caught up in thought.
“Are you okay, Mr. Ignis?” Morris asked, still seated at the table, “You got awful silent all a sudden.”
“Right, yes,” Ignis acknowledged the check-in with a patient smile, working on his next tuber, “I was simply caught up in imagining this story, that’s all. Go wash up for dinner, will you? And call your brothers in as well.”
He spent the next few hours following dinner and clean up lost in the train of thought that led, well, really nowhere. It was a whim, a notion, a feeling that tugged on his heartstrings. Ignis exhaled harshly though his nose as he finished drying the dishes that evening, listening to the bugs of the valley chirp along their nightly songs. Logically, he felt that following such a strange calling with barely any evidence to his missing past would be a mistake. Though he felt comfortable in his own skin, for the most part, Ignis was still severely lacking in his normal grace. He struggled to tell apart night and day without sound cues. He couldn’t follow a map. He couldn’t easily defend himself against larger, dangerous creatures.
He had a life, here. A job, food, a place to sleep, a sense of belonging and yet …
His heart felt empty.
Ignis silently cursed himself as he led one of the Chocobos quietly out of the barn. Momo, a very intelligent girl, her feathers particularly coarse against his fingers just under her beak. She nipped appreciatively at the greens in his other hand, chirping. The blonde wasn’t sure how he knew the quickest way to saddle up a Chocobo, but he wasn’t in the mood to question that particular mystery of his past. In moments Momo was saddled up, and Ignis took his place on the bird. With what little he needed for the trip in the pack on his back, he nudged gently at the bird’s sides.
Forgive me, Howiser’s. I’ll beg for forgiveness upon my return.
Tracking the passing of the days became more difficult as Ignis traveled further from the valley where he’d been staying. The shadows of the mountains chilled his skin as he drew back further into his borrowed coat, his fingers shaking against the Chocobo’s reigns. It was chillier here, as he supposedly approached the mountain that housed the famed World Sight. However, it wasn’t quite enough to cause the blonde to turn around and give up his strange search, pulled along by nothing but a feeling or a thought deep within his mind.
I must explore this supposed tomb. I simply must.
There was still daylight when he first heard the footsteps of others within the vicinity. The ground was cooled and the grass somewhat crisp, helping Ignis to notice that he was far from alone. Somewhere, much further in the distance, he could hear the shift of metal on metal. Right, the tomb was guarded, likely by … knights? It seemed like something more out of a fairy tale, and Scientia scowled as he realized he couldn’t easily dispel the silly thought without seeing what was in front of him.
In truth, he had no idea what he was looking toward. The World Sight … it must have been quite tall. How many stories, he wondered. Was there snow near the peak of the mountain? Was it clear where this tomb was located? Just how far was he, from the tower itself?
Frustrating.
Footsteps in the distance drew Ignis from his silent grumbling. Someone had wandered nearby, taking steps forward, but then stopping. Well, there was no sense in him staying on his chocobo’s back any longer -- the bird wouldn’t be helping him to investigate the tower. Ignis slid himself off of Momo’s back, giving her a firm pat as she chirped in appreciation. He held onto the bird’s reigns and carefully stepped forward, toward where he’d heard the footsteps end; now listening for the rustle of clothing in the gentle breeze.
He hoped the other traveler had dressed better for the weather. Ignis himself was wearing the same outfit he’d had the day he left the family farm with their chocobo; a pair of dark trousers and a striped, white button up with a dark vest fastened over the top of it. His black coat was lightly lined with rough wool on the inside, helping to keep his upper half warm. He felt odd without a nicer pair of shoes on, but they’d been traded out for boots considering the climate.
Of course, his glasses remained perched upon his nose, despite the fact he really didn’t need them now. However, they had been tinted dark, to help protect his right eye which could still open despite the scarring.
Ignis was unsure if he was truly facing the World Sight, nor was he completely sure he was close enough to the individual who had stopped nearby for conversation to not be truly odd. However, he found himself rarely caring for such an appearance these days; more concerned with simply surviving than he was manners.
Such a thing really, really bothered him.
“Does it live up to expectations?” Ignis spoke up to the person who had stopped nearby, as Momo the chocobo pecked absent-mindedly at the crisp grass close to his feet. He gave the stranger (he hoped) a small, polite smile, “I’ve heard this place means a great deal to many people.”
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.
For Ignis Scientia, there were a lot of how’s and why’s and what’s currently in his life.
Some of the bigger questions were somewhat answered. How did he get here? The same way other people seemed to mysteriously arrive in the world. Why? Who knew. What was he to do now? No idea.
There was a lot of unknowns in the world for a man who couldn’t see a thing. Every morning, when Ignis awoke, he opened his right eye in a false attempt to try and catch anything aside from a faint and distant light. His left refused to open, and the doctors were sure it would remain that way. Instead, the young man would close them both and push his newly tinted glasses up to the bridge of his nose -- starting another day in an unknown world, on an unknown path, unable to collect information the way he was once accustomed to.
Ignis could no longer write anything down. Well, he could, but it would be fruitless to do so. He couldn’t study a map. He couldn’t identify strange sounds without asking for help. And ah, that was the problem, wasn’t it? Asking for help. While he wasn’t adverse to the idea of asking for assistance from time to time, having to do so constantly had been an unbearable weight on his shoulders. At times, he was simply too embarrassed. The blonde could tell, in the hints of voices of those who gave him assistance, that they felt awkward doing so.
Having spent enough time relying on others, Scientia decided there was only one thing he could do to improve his life in this strange world; and moping wouldn’t be a part of the plan. Instead, he decided to travel. There was no way to memorize the world as he once knew how to, but he simply needed to develop something new. Instead, he listened to people as they spoke about their surroundings. He asked for the names of towns and cities. He let his feet carry him for as long as they could, down an unknown path -- stubborn and willful. He would stop and peel off his gloves, feeling the grass and plants around him, memorizing the feeling of the path underneath of his shoes.
He could detect light just enough to tell where the sun was, most of the time. That was as good a directional cue as he could take. Ignis kept all of his notes as organized as he could in his mind; there seemed to be quite a bit of real estate there, as he couldn’t remember much about his past as it was. He let the new sensations overtake him. The sounds of creatures. The whispers of people. The feel of the world around him. Occasionally, the young man traveled with a caravan, to have safety in numbers. Some seemed to judge him for his brazen activity -- a blind traveler, armed with nothing other than a walking stick? Did he have a death wish?
Absolutely not.
In an attempt to gain some further understanding of this world and his new surroundings, Ignis traveled to a place referred to as The Crystallus Divider. The journey had been rather boring, thankfully, and had given him plenty of time to think over other such things that were bothering him. There was only so much his mind was willing to recall from his previous life; that much he’d mostly given up on, for now, in place of coming to terms with and overpowering his newfound disability. However, there was another curious connection he couldn’t quite place.
The first time he’d encountered a creature mostly on his own, Ignis had managed to summon a weapon into his hand. A dagger; one, and then another. While the fight was difficult, and most of the damage was done by the other travelers, the once-retainer couldn’t help but feel it was … natural. Battle was natural. However, the ability to summon these weapons was rather tricky for him, at first. It took a certain amount of will, and he could only seem to pull them forth from nothingness when he recalled the only person from his past that was still living in his mind’s eye.
Noct.
The sun was beginning to set, as far as Ignis was aware. The weather, which was rather pleasant in this region, was beginning to cool as the brief amount of light he could detect was fading. Thankfully, he had made it to the Divider, and followed the hushed sounds of the few other people in the area. He tapped his walking stick along, finding several blocks scattered throughout the area. Thank goodness, or he would have rammed his shins on them several times by now. There was an energy abuzz in the area … Not quite magic as he thought of it, but something. Ignis thinned his lips in thought, pulling his black coat closer as he considered what the feeling could be, if it was anything at all.
Again, he thought of the strange power he had to summon a weapon forth. Perhaps he shouldn’t have considered it so strongly, as a temporary weight formed in his pocket, before promptly falling out. Ignis frowned, pausing for a moment as he considered turning around to search for and grab the weapon.
No, instead, this would be a decent opportunity to attempt to make it go back to … wherever it was it was coming from. The dagger seemed attached to him in away, and so Scientia chose to ignore for a moment, instead stepping forward a few more paces to find a place to sit down. A few taps later led him to a stone that seemed flat enough to sit on; turning to rest against the cool stone. Ingis relaxed his body, tired from the constant journey, ignoring the way his feet ached. With one hand he snapped the walking stick back into its smaller, more travel-friendly form, stuffing it into his pocket. He then rested a gloved hand against his dark jeans, intending to carry his focus to the dagger that was left lying in the dirt behind him.
What he hadn’t expected was to hear the sounds of footsteps drawing closer. The young man frowned in curiosity as the stranger approached. Having done nothing but listen since he’d landed in this world, Ignis could tell a few things without really trying. Whoever it was, they were either short or young. The shuffle of fabrics indicated they were wearing cotton. Just as he and every other traveler did, he could detect the scent of sweat.
“I am sorry to bother you sir, but it appears you have dropped this."
The voice was young, but not that of a child. A teenager, perhaps? Ingis sat still for a moment as his calculations caught up with the rest of his mind, before allowing a tired, pleasant smile to spread across his features. He didn’t want to come across as rude, after all.
“Ah, thank you for returning it,” Ignis replied as he crossed one leg over the other, reaching forward to take the dagger from the teenager. It took a few fumbling swipes at the air before his calloused fingers made contact with the handle, and he gently removed it from the other’s hand, “That was quite the kind act. Anyone could have taken it, and I would have been none the wiser.”
There was a quip in his voice that he hoped the young man would ignore. He hadn’t quite come to terms with his situation, it seemed.
“Are you here traveling with your family, Mr …?” Ignis kept his tone cordial as he let the question hang in the air, expect the young man to give his name. After all, even though the kind teenager was young, there was no sense in treating him as such. He would treat him as respectfully as he would anyone else -- even if it did seem overbearing.
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.
