Rayne Drops (FFXV)

LI) In the Dark

            I step outside first, though I'm not met with the stun of sunlight as I previously hoped. Merely the bitter cold bites back at me through the darkness that's completely consumed Gralea. Prompto has the same reaction of wonder, exchanging a look of surprise with me. Gladio grunts, shaking his head and urging us further out of the labyrinthian's exit.

"We're not safe yet," he reminds us, resting a hand on Ignis's shoulder to guide him around a pile of rusted scrap metal.

"Guess you could say we're not totally out of the dark," Prompto quips, forcing a weak laugh. I give him a gentle smile, looking up into the pitch-black sky. Even the moon is obscured by the blackest, most dense clouds I've ever laid eyes on. Only the slimmest sliver of murky light pierces the edges of its dark rival.

"The sun won't be back until Noct is?" I ask, tearing my eyes away from that single gleam of hope.

"It seems so," Ignis sighs. "However, recent reports over the radio advertise open shelters welcoming all from any location to take refuge."

"Dave was inviting 'em all to Lestallum," Gladio nods. "Guess he knew about the $#%^ show out here."

"Won't daemons be out constantly?" I frown, looking around at our temporary refuge amongst the empty shells of train cars. Even as a child, the dark never scared me. But now... There's an eeriness dripping from every corner of Eos and sending sharp prickles down my spine. I refuse to cling to others, and yet, putting all my faith in Noctis is part of my job description. It's not even in the fine print. I've never felt more like an uneasy child in my entire life.

"That's the point of the darkness," Prompto huffs, sitting on the rough steps leading into an engine. "To bring out all the daemons and wash the world over with pure evil. Isn't that all Ardyn wanted?"

"Perhaps," Ignis replies. "But then I must ask why he helped Noct get to the Crystal."

"He's got something else in mind," I grumble, shuddering as his words replay through my mind. His past as a savior, my mother's role... My role. Gods, I don't even know what it is anymore. Gladio glances over my rough and bloodied appearance before tearing his eyes away to look at Ignis.

"Where should we go, Iggy?"

"I suppose we shall ask Aranea where we can find refuge to regroup for now." There's a long pause in conversation as we wait impatiently. I don't want to leave Noctis behind by himself. But... Part of me knows he isn't here anymore. He's becoming the Chosen King. What that entails I don't know. I can only await his return and the cleansing of this darkness I feel lingering from Ardyn's grasp. When did I become so dependent?

"I think I can hear them coming," Prompto says suddenly, jumping to his feet and backing up to search for the Empire's signature engine. Bright red lights flash rhythmically in the distance, the familiar hum of the aircraft reaching my eager ears. We're finally getting out of this living hell. But... We're entering a bigger one with one less member, the most important of us all.

In the long run, it wouldn't matter if I had died in Altissia alongside the image of Arma that Ardyn portrayed. It wouldn't matter if Prompto's heart stopped in Gralea or if Gladio fell trembling at the hands of Gilgamesh or if Ignis's brain had been shredded instead of his brilliant green eyes. All that matters is Noctis and the gods. You'd think we'd serve more purpose than broken-hearted meat shields. That's what I thought, anyway. Looks like I was wrong.

The engine comes to a halted hover over our heads, whipping sharp winds around us that tug my hair every which way. The large black door drops open like a gaping mouth, revealing the figure of Aranea waiting expectantly, hands rested on her hips. Gladio reaches down and helps Ignis off the steps of an empty train car that he was resting on. Aranea waves a hand of dismissal, reaching behind her and throwing down a rope ladder.