The Dawn of the Future

by Jun Eishima

  　But as the king exchanged blows with Ardyn, his surprise grew apparent.

  　“Such power . . . !” he gasped.

  　“Yes, I’m afraid that trait seems to have skipped a generation or two.”

  　Battling the Royal Guard had been a bore. The Crownsguard foot soldiers were even worse. But Regis put up a proper fight. It was exhilarating. The kingly barrage would have proven fatal had Ardyn been a man of mortal flesh. Still, Regis’s movements lagged just a moment behind those of his undying opponent.

  　“This monster must be contained . . . ” the king gasped as the fight raged on. “He’s too dangerous. He must be stopped!”

  　“Must I? Really? By whom, may I ask?”

  　Ardyn’s body was immortal. Nothing could fell it, not even a king of Lucis. Even if he were stabbed in the chest, or his throat torn out, though blood would gush forth for a moment, the ragged edges of the wounds would quickly knit together, his flesh made smooth and whole once again.

  　But for Regis, every nick and scratch would sap his strength. Each blow landed upon him would slow him down, and in the end, no matter how great the power granted to him by the gods, his mortal body would know its limit.

  　“What’s the matter?” Ardyn smiled. “Can’t keep up?”

  　Ardyn whirled, a circling shadow of miasma, reforming behind the king. He thrust forth his hand. One sure grasp and the scourge would flow. Oh, what a pleasure it would be to turn Regis into a daemon before striking him down. The king was unfortunately swift, however, and Ardyn’s fingers closed on air.

  　But though his grab may have missed, his blade struck true. It opened a great gash in Regis’s side, and the fight was over.

  　Anguish filled the defeated king’s eyes. “I swore to protect my people . . . ”

  　He groaned and pressed one hand to the wound, as if he might stop the flow of blood. He staggered, and although he did not fall, neither did he manage to stand and raise his blade.

  　“Done already?” Ardyn taunted. “But the fun’s just begun.”

  　Do you hear, dear brother? his mind added. The king of Lucis groans in agony. Do you see? Your scion is a wretch, brought to his knees in disgrace.

  　Ardyn towered above Regis and issued his command.

  　“Summon the Old Wall.”

  　Regis stared up in disbelief. Ardyn kicked him, and the king’s bloodied body tumbled across the flagstones of the courtyard. Regis came to rest faceup, his features contorted with strain, as if he were determined to lift himself back to his feet. If that was indeed his goal, the struggle was in vain: his body remained motionless on the ground.

  　“How do you know about that?” Regis’s words came in broken gasps.

  　“I’ve heard the souls of kings reside within those statues,” Ardyn said. “Of course, that’s only hearsay. Why not summon the Wall so we can see for ourselves?”

  　Regis’s hands trembled. He began to curl one into a grip, but it quickly fell limp again. It seemed the man could not summon forth the Royal Arms.

  　“What I wouldn’t give for a chance to speak with the Founder King himself!”

  　Ardyn kicked Regis’s bleeding flank once more, then shouted to the sky, “Come out, Somnus! The longer you wait, the longer he’ll suffer!”

  　Nothing. Not a trace of the Old Wall. Not a trace of Somnus. Ardyn’s anger turned savage. He kicked the downed king again, driving his heel into the man’s chest. He continued until his ferocious assault had bruised every inch of Regis’s body, then he stepped back.

  　Where was Somnus? Why wouldn’t he appear? Was this a game to him? Perhaps he thought he was calling a bluff, certain his brother was incapable of murder. If so, he was wrong. Ardyn was a savior no longer. The kindly Lord Caelum who was beloved by the people of his age was no more.

  　“Huh?”

  　Regis had stopped moving.

  　“Is he dead?” Ardyn wondered aloud. He bent, placing a hand on Regis’s wrist to check for a pulse.

  　“Oh dear. Perhaps I don’t know my own strength.”

  　And then a blinding light flared from the king’s body. Ardyn stepped back involuntarily. It was the ring. That same ring, now passed through generations of Somnus’s line. The gift from the gods to the rulers of Lucis sat securely on the downed man’s right hand. The ring’s beam widened and began to trace a silhouette in the air. Ardyn’s assault had worked after all. The Old Wall was coming to defend the king.

  　“Well?” he drawled. “I’m waiting.”

  　The spreading light took on a human shape―a towering giant clad in armor―upon which Ardyn gazed with a triumphant grin.

  　A giant voice boomed down at him. “Brother!”

  　“Somnus! Haven’t seen you for years,” Ardyn replied. “Two thousand, in fact.”

  　The giant manifested by the ring was outfitted not unlike the amplifiers’ Guardians, with thick plates of armor and a giant weapon. In this case, a sword.

  　“What’s wrong, ‘dear brother’? Too afraid to put down your expensive toy and face me yourself?” He sneered. His brother acted in death as he did in life. No fair fights. Never relying on his own strength alone. “I won’t let you forget what you did to me.”

  　“You were tainted,” Somnus boomed. “Unfit to sit the throne. That is why the Crystal rejected you.”

  　The man was a fool if he thought his words would save him.

  　“The Crystal. Is that who exiled me as a monster and erased me from the face of history?” Ardyn shouted back.

  　“Please, Brother. Return to the darkness from whence you came.”

  　“Now? But I’m having so much fun! To think I’d get the pleasure of killing you myself!”

  　There was no need for further discussion. Not that there ever had been―Ardyn was not interested in any excuses his brother might wish to provide. Blades summoned forth from the Armiger now rained down on Somnus’s apparition.

  　In a distant past, Ardyn had similarly drawn his sword in anger. But back then, his point had faltered, failing to pierce his brother’s heart. He knew not what stayed his hand back then. It was a mistake he’d relived over and over while chained in the darkness. But here, beyond his wildest dreams, was a chance to right it.

  　Ardyn slashed again and again at the great stone legs, then warped up high to strike at the giant’s face. Each attack fed his lust.

  　A small part of him still yearned to put fist to flesh. Would that he could take out his anger upon Somnus the man, one blow at a time, until his hands were numb with fatigue.

  　The giant stepped back in the face of Ardyn’s assault. “This is preposterous . . . How could one so impure possess such power?!”

  　Power from impurity? Ardyn mused. Hardly. This strength was born of hatred. What you feel is two thousand years of longing to see you dead by my own two hands.

  　“I was right to have sealed you away. You truly are a monster, Brother.”

  　“Yes. A monster, indeed.”

  　In life, Ardyn had ever yielded to the gods’ commands. He’d been willing to give everything to aid his people. Yet the only fruits of his devotion were this inhuman power and immortal body. And with naught else left to him, those were the tools he would use to exact his revenge.

  　Swords alone would not suffice. Let Somnus burn in the fires of retribution. Let him writhe and wail in pain.

  　“O Infernian, lend me your strength,” Ardyn intoned. “Help me burn this wretched nation to the ground.”

  　Astral hellfire enveloped Somnus. Scorching tongues of flame lapped at the giant stone figure, its limbs cracking and groaning from the sudden heat. Ardyn leapt into the air, concentrating every bit of anger and hatred he’d ever harbored into one final blow.

  　“This is where it ends,” he said as steel met stone. And then, at long last, Somnus’s knees buckled, and the giant form was crashing to the ground, its blinding blue light diffused and fading. A great laugh erup
ted from Ardyn’s lungs. His eyes were squeezed shut in delight. When the laughter finally subsided and his eyes were open again, he saw Somnus was no longer encased in stone. The figure on its knees before him was his brother as he’d known him two thousand years ago.

  　“At long last, ‘dear brother,’ vengeance is mine.”

  　“The gods blessed you as their chosen,” Somnus began. “The people adored you as their savior. I was neither powerful nor popular . . . just envious, perhaps. I yearned desperately to be special, yet I had nothing to set me apart. Nothing at all!”

  　“Until you stole it from me.”

  　Somnus lowered his gaze.

  　“What I did to you was unforgivable, but I did it for the future of our kingdom―of our people. Our line has done everything in our power to protect our people, just as the gods bade. I was merely fulfilling my calling.”

  　“Our line”? I think you meant yours. You and the one hundred and twelve kings who followed. I suppose you think you’ve done a wonderful job carrying out the gods’ bidding.

  　He remembered Aera’s words. Your devotion shall not go unnoticed. The gods will doubtless be watching over you. He and Aera had been the ones to abide by the will of the gods. Not Somnus.

  　“And here I thought I was the blessed one,” he spat, “but it was you all along.”

  　It was not only the throne that had been stolen from him. Not just his future. Somnus had taken all that and more. Ardyn had lost everything he’d ever known.

  　His brother’s reply was soft. “I dare not ask for your forgiveness, but I do ask for your understanding.”

  　Ardyn’s fury boiled over.

  　“What?!” he demanded.

  　Did Somnus think he could apologize? That his words could erase the past? That he could change anything at all?

  　“You took everything from me―everything―and you ask for my understanding?”

  　The humbled request. The lowered gaze. Pathetic gestures acted out for his own sake, just like everything he’d ever done in life. Now he felt remorse for his past crimes? Was he so desperate to erase the guilt that plagued him?

  　To hell with him!

  　Ardyn grabbed at his brother but caught only air. Somnus’s form began to dissipate as the statue’s had.

  　“I pray your soul find repose, Brother.”

  　Repose? Repose? How dare he proffer such garbage. He was the one to cause all this!

  　He wished to hurl more words of hatred at his brother, but it was too late. Somnus was already gone. Ardyn stood alone in the city.

  　His brother’s death was supposed to be the answer. Killing Somnus was supposed to bring the relief he’d craved through centuries spent in solitude. But now that Somnus and his great stone puppet were toppled, Ardyn felt not even a flicker of joy in his heart. All he found inside was grave exhaustion and an unbearable emptiness.

  　Why? This wasn’t the ending I imagined to my tale of vengeance.

  Ardyn wasn’t certain how or why he had ended up back at the site of the previous battle. His mind was clouded, his body moving of its own volition. But when he looked down, Regis lay at his feet.

  　Of course. My revenge is not yet complete. I must end Somnus’s line, destroy his legacy. Perhaps Regis’s death will fill some part of this void in me.

  　Ardyn summoned his sword, hand tight on the grip. One quick thrust, straight through the downed man’s heart, and it would be over. The king would lie dead on the stones of the courtyard. Ardyn lifted his sword overhead, poised for the killing blow.

  Ardyn Lucis Caelum . . .

  　An inhuman voice, awful and immense. It seemed to come from everywhere at once.

  I command thee to halt and kneel before me.

  　Each word was a cacophony that crashed into his mind. Ardyn pitched forward as countless towering blades rained down from above. They drove deep into the flagstones of the courtyard, forming a great circle around Regis’s unconscious form. The intent was clear: no harm would come to the king.

  　From high above came a dizzying light, and the world was washed in white. Ardyn looked toward the heavens, squinting through the glare, and beheld something of greater size, strength, and presence than he’d ever known descend upon the earth.

  On my honor as the Bladekeeper, Bahamut, I shall not let thee become a slayer of kings.

  　The Draconian. The God of War. Bahamut. Whilst the rest of the Six slumbered after the Great War of Old, this god alone vanished to a place unknown.

  　“Why . . . ? Why do the gods deny me my revenge?!”

  　As Ardyn cried out his dismay, his surroundings shifted without warning. He was no longer in the world but suspended in some strange void. He stood, though not on ground, and in every direction he saw light the color of night sky and ocean depths intermingled. It was a place far removed from reality, so much so that Ardyn could not think to question where he was.

  　In that void, he faced the God of War.

  Because thou hast been chosen to serve a different purpose. To spread darkness throughout the world is thy true calling.

  　Calling. It was a word engraved upon his heart, but one he’d not had in mind for some time. It caught him off guard. All he could manage to do was parrot back a single word. “Darkness?”

  Soon, the True King will be born unto Lucis. He shall lead the people as their beacon of hope and drive away the darkness.

  In turn, thou shalt be his sacrifice―the limitless shadow that ushers in the light.

  　“Why must I continue to suffer? Have I not already sacrificed enough?!”

  　Bahamut continued, unfazed and uninterrupted, not seeming to care whether his words were understood or not.

  When the True King awakens, summoning the power of his forebears, he shall at last relieve thee of thy suffering.

  　It dawned on Ardyn that he had no need to ask. The things of which the Draconian spoke poured into his mind, played out as moving scenes as clear as anything Ardyn had witnessed with his own two eyes.

  　The birth of Regis’s son. The child who would be known as Noctis. The Crystal, which would name that child the Chosen King. Ardyn himself crossing swords with the boy grown to a young man. In the same courtyard where he’d clashed with Regis just moments ago, Ardyn would be defeated by Noctis. Noctis would sit on the throne of Lucis and offer up his life, using the power of the ring to open the door to the Beyond.

  　The Beyond. It was a mysterious realm linked to their world by way of the Crystal, unreachable by mortal flesh. Two thousand years ago, Ardyn’s soul had become trapped there, separated from his body, when the Crystal cast him away.

  　He’d thought his immortality had been granted by the Starscourge that coursed through him. In truth, his spirit was trapped in the Beyond, while his body remained in the mortal realm, soulless and cursed to walk the earth until the True King arrived. And when Noctis was ready, he would cross over to this realm through the power of the ring and put Ardyn to rest once and for all.

  Then the line of Lucis shall come to an end, and the revenge thou seekest shall finally be found.

  So it is ordained, and so it shall be.

  　Ardyn would be gone forevermore, as would Noctis, Lucis’s True King and also its last. The line would end with him. And in exchange for Noctis’s sacrifice, the Crystal, now host to all the Starscourge that had plagued the world, would shatter. Eos would be cleansed.

  　A glimpse of a world to which light had returned flashed before Ardyn’s eyes. Then it was gone, along with the Bladekeeper’s other visions, and Ardyn was again in the place that was at once like dark sky and deep sea.

  　He stared at Bahamut. “You say I am not the savior of man, but his sacrificial lamb. And that I live only to die by the hand of the heir to an ill-gotten throne.”

  　Two millennia ago, Ardyn had believed with all his heart that to save others was his calling. He’d been ready to embrace death, if it were in service to others and brough
t an end to suffering. He’d thought it a mission of which only he was capable, and thus he’d been prepared to sacrifice everything.

  　But even at that time, he had not thought to lay down his life without a struggle or fight.

  　During his long time on Angelgard, he’d come to think the gods fools. They had bestowed but a single man with the power to stop the scourge. They had failed to imagine the Crystal’s rejection of the one whom they had chosen to be king, and Ardyn had despised them for it. But now, to hear that everything that had occurred was but a means to spawn a monster fit for sacrifice . . . It was a cunning cruelty far beyond that of mortal minds.

  　“That is the fate the gods have chosen to bestow upon me?!”

  The very same.

  Defy thy destiny if thou dare, but know that it would grant thee a life of darkness unending, devoid of death’s reprieve.

  What say thee, Adagium?

  　The war god’s words echoed in his mind, merciless and cruel. Everything that had befallen him had been Somnus’s fault; he’d been so sure of it. It was the crowning achievement of his brother’s cunning, carried on by generations of his successors, a scheme that robbed him and Aera of their happiness and future. It had cheated them of everything―even their purpose in life.

  　But now the truth was laid bare. The trap had been set by not Somnus but the Draconian. Lift the lid on the chessmen’s case, and Somnus lay there, too, another pitiful pawn in the gods’ cruel game.

  The fate bestowed upon a man cannot be changed.

  Now go. Fulfill thy calling.