So the boy knew – that was good. For once someone was informed – or as informed as they ought to be. Bahamut was very aware what would happen if the knew the True King was destined to die. Honestly, the fuss mortals made about such a thing... but it didn't matter. It wasn't why he had started this conversation in the first place.

Ignis regarded the man suspiciously, a frown pulling at his lips. For a moment, he wasn't certain what to say to the messenger. He was well aware he should be polite to the man, and how powerful he was, even if his own inclination was not to be particularly devout. Nor did he appreciate someone criticizing Noctis so harshly.

He enjoyed cooking. It had started out as a way of taking care of Noctis, and bringing some happiness to a dark time in his life, but had become something he was quite passionate about. He would not at all mind sharing some of his cooking with the Glaives.

Oh. She was going to get at him for that later. She’s not sure how, but she’s going to at some point. Though the faint curl of the corner of her lips made it clear that Johanne didn’t take offense to it. “I’ll remember that, Scientia.” And remember she will as she slid into the driver’s side after Ignis.

“Hm. That’s fair.” It’s no different from after the fall of the city that she pulled up every Hunter contact her late father had enable to get the rest of the loyal Glaives at the time to where the remaining Crownsguard were.

Ignis chuckles softly at her response, nodding slightly. “Indeed he does not. But I am glad to know you are comfortable at his side. Noctis has few friends, and I am glad that he has you.”

Oracle or not, she is Noctis’ friend, and though he may not admit it, Ignis is sure that he appreciates her, cherishes her friendship. Given how hard both of their responsibilities are, it is nice to see they have each other.

❝Likewise.❞

For Ignis’ reputation had preceded him. Even back in Tenebrae, when the Prince and Princess were first coming to know one another, Noctis spoke so fondly of his closest hand. For a boy with so much on his shoulders, Ignis had offered a much-needed and well-earned reprieve.

"I see. Did you contact Gladio and Prompto already?" he questioned, since they might have a clue as to Noctis' whereabouts. Regis wouldn't panic yet, not when he knew his son's tendencies.

    ❝ Are— are you sure? You don't need anything? ❞ It's things like this he just cannot let go of. Though Ignis' determination is admiring, the concern Prompto felt was almost 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆. If his heart beat any harder, it may just burst out of his chest. It's not the first time. Most likely not even the last time. He did care deeply for his friends.

    ❝ Looks painful . . . ❞

"I am quite certain, it's just a minor burn."

It hurt, of course. Burns always did. But he was well familiar with them, too. While he had always been purposeful and careful when cooking, accidents happened, even to him. And that was to say nothing of his own propensity to use fire when fighting.

As with many things, however, the loss of his sight had seemingly heightened the sensation of pain.