The Far Edge of Fate (Final Fantasy XV)

CHAPTER 4 - STORIES UNTOLD

The weather was warm on Founder's Day.

Aaralyn stood with her hand shading her eyes from the sun as she looked out from the train station stairs into the loud crowds. The scent of frying food from stalls was thick in the air and the heat made her somewhat glad she'd worn a short-sleeved tee and jean shorts with her favorite pair of sneakers.

"See Noctis yet?" she asked Cassielle, who was bunched up beside Aaralyn, standing on her tiptoes to see a familiar mess of black hair in the crowd. She was dressed to match Aaralyn.

"Nope," Cassielle squinted. "Gods, there are a lot of Crownsguard members."

Aaralyn had to agree. The Crownsguard was out in force. She could see soldiers in the dozens and couldn't help but be obscenely grateful that the Kingsglaive didn't concern itself with affairs in the city and instead was focused purely on the warfront and things outside the wall. If things had been different, she would have been on guard duty with them and bored out of her mind.

She scanned the crowds again and this time, managed to spot a familiar figure. It was Noctis, wearing a casual black jacket with a matching shirt, jeans, and boots (Six, his fashion sense was about as diverse as a one-note tuba). Ignis, Gladiolus, and Prompto were accompanying him, with Prompto waving his camera around eagerly and already snapping photos.

"Oh, there they are," Aaralyn pointed out.

"About time," Cassielle said teasingly, taking the stairs two at a time to meet them. Prompto spotted them at the same time, hurrying up to meet them.

"Hey!" Prompto said, out of breath. His outfit was light and breathable, wearing a maroon top with cargo shorts and sneakers. His camera was slung faithfully over his shoulder.

"Apologies for our lateness," Ignis remarked. He looked as posh and professional as always, wearing a pressed white shirt and black suspenders and pants. He would have looked the picture of composed if it were not for the fanny pack he'd hilariously strung over his hips. With how bright red it was, it gave Ignis more of the appearance of a doting mother than a Royal Advisor. "I had...issues getting the prince out of bed this morning."

Noctis grumbled in response, ruffling the back of his bedhead.

"That and Prom didn't know what to wear," Gladiolus chimed in, wearing a black tank-top and khakis.

"Hey, I can't look bad for my shots," Prompto shrugged, tugging at the strap of his camera.

"Least you guys made it eventually," Aaralyn said with a grin, shaking her head. "What's the plan?"

"Dunno," Prompto admitted. He looked up at Ignis, adopting a dramatic voice and accent to accompany it. "O master of the itinerary, what's our schedule?"

Noctis snickered at the nickname. Ignis rolled his eyes.

"I'm merely trying to keep ourselves on a timely schedule if we want to attend the vigil tonight," he said plainly, folding his arms across his chest. Aaralyn couldn't help but quirk a curious eyebrow. Vigil? "But, for your information, our first order of business was one you had requested personally."

"Oh, is it all the stalls set up selling all kinds of things?" Prompto asked eagerly.

"If that's how you'd like to put it, then yes."

"Woohoo! Let's go!" Prompto said eagerly. "I can get some really good shots there! And some fun souvenirs."

"You say that like we haven't gone every year," Noctis pointed out.

"And he says that like he hasn't had to be with the parade on that giant float with his dad every year except for this one," Gladiolus snorted. Noctis punched his shoulder.