ＳＩＮ-ＥＡＴＥＲ

|| Me, reading through three-year-old IMs. 

“This...is you...and me”

he slowly forces his fingers together, the tone of his voice ripples with the seductive volume of a man so desperately in love with himself. Oh, what it were to feel such emotion. Such narcissism! He may have despised the darkness within his soul, but by the god’s did he crave it also! His lips curl upward into a smile; his voice growls with lust. 

♫  “What do you do with a drunken Viper~?

         What do you do with a drunken Viper~? 

              What do you do with a drunken Viper~?

                                   You pop her on your head.” ♫

{continued}

So this counterpart of his from another dimension, he was an Accursed too. Centuries pasting was only evidence of that. Indeed the years haven’t been kind, being erased from history, the people he once healed were not grateful for the temporary peace he allowed them to have. The astrals making him into a monster of sorts, oh, but Ardyn knew; he knew it was as much his fault as theirs. He knew the healing was changing his very person, that he was absorbing some evil thing into himself, but he began to like the power he received, and allowed it to corrupt him in such ways.

It was true, even as hard as the years may have been for him, his age didn’t show. He still looked as he did at age thirty-eight. The year of his apparent death.

He watched as his counterpart lowered himself to the dirt, not seeming to have a care in the world if his clothes got dirty… neither did Ardyn himself, yet, he chose to remain standing. Ah, so he knows the name. Ardyn Izunia, he took that name too, it seems. His once neutral mood turned into annoyance however as he heard Lucis Caelum being uttered.

Don’t. Say. That. Name.

God, he hated it. Whilst the family were still around, albeit, only one remains and that’s the Chosen too, Ardyn still can’t stand to hear it, especially when given towards him. He was not a Lucis Caelum, not anymore. He rejected that name as soon as he was cast out! As soon as they decided to torture and attempt execution on him, he didn’t want to be part of such a family anymore.

Quickly regaining himself from his little inner turmoil, he regained the ability to speak once more, “Don’t call me that.” A glare was aimed towards his counterpart, “Just… don’t.” Ardyn wouldn’t exactly put it past himself to not bring harm to his other self if he pushed his buttons enough in such a way. Naming him Lucis Caelum, it just wasn’t allowed. That was a name Ardyn decided to get rid of, help rid himself of the terrible memories the family did on him. Their own blood. They spilled their own blood just because the astrals proclaimed him dirty and that he was no longer worthy of the throne.

No family should do that. It didn’t matter what Ardyn did to stop them, they were relentless to put him down. They would stop at nothing to see him dead. Too bad they never got their wish. Ardyn lived on, they died through time, and now he was close to revenge, although stuck within the wrong Eos it seems. He wondered though, does this one have the same goals?

“Tell me, the fact you know of that name, do you seek to kill someone by the name of Noctis Lucis Caelum?” Had Noctis even been born within this Eos yet? Was Regis even still alive? There was one million possibilities here, differences between realms could be a thing to think about.

His face became rigid with a lackluster smile; conceited emotion. Despite the grin, his expression was almost entirely joyless. This incarnation of himself...the reflection from the waterfall...reminded him not only of himself in vision but ten-fold in regards to the bitterness of a mention of his past. Or even a name tied to such events. 

However, should one thing have parted the men ; it was the scent of blackness to emit from the other. 

Ardyn’s soul had been ripped from the clutches of Angels by the talons of devils themselves, yet his bitterness had long since made way for a tranquil malevolence. Any fury shown toward those who had persecuted him had festered long enough. The many faces of his anguish had been long forgotten; replaced with a sense of brooding. A suicidal tribute to the darkness to have made him what he was now. 

But this Ardyn; this man before him...he stank as plague did back then; a time when the disease reigned supreme and neither king nor queen could stop it. A time of sacrifices. 

This man’s spite...Ardyn’s spite. His demand hadn’t fallen gently from wine-coloured lips, no, he’d spat the words as a dragon breathed a flame. However, this dragon failed to snarl; there was no crinkle across the bridge of his nose, nor was there too much incarnation that he hurt in some way when pierced with the sharp edge of the name. Instead, his words had formed in a way close to Ardyn’s own. Grotesquely close. 

He notes the shadow’s response to their former name, but he quietly shifts it from his mind. Such would be a fact to perhaps later dwell on; for this Ardyn held no ill will toward his former name. Only toward the one he wore today ; a cursed name for an accursed man. 

Ignoring certain factors, he smirks a truer and more genuine smile toward the others rather blunt question. His lips pucker as he tuts, like a man quietening another. 

Kefka’s excitement was just winding down. In his mind, he could still hear Titan’s final cries of agony. It pleased him even more seeing the smile on Ardyn’s face. It was one that the God of Magic happily returned.

“Very well. Do you believe that they will realize what happened quickly?” The area Titan was in struck Kefka as rather isolated. Regardless, the God was in no hurry. He’d found himself spending most evenings with the Chancellor at this point and to be honest, drinking with Ardyn was rather enjoyable.

Ardyn was rather enjoyable.

Their discussions often went to places that no one had spoken with Kefka about before. The past, life, existence in general. It was nice having someone who could actually stimulate him in an intellectual sense. It forced his mind to focus and to block out all the inner noise and chaos.

The mage brought his hand out in front of his face and focused for a moment, becoming enveloped in his own magic and shifting in appearance to look like he had before the magicite had altered him so terribly.

In front of Ardyn stood the once-esteemed general of Emperor Gestahl’s military.

“I may as well blend in if we’re spending time out,” he said. It was just an illusion, regardless.

“Lead the way. I trust your judgment more than my own in this world.” He had to admit that fighting the Astrals had made him rather thirsty. 

“Who’s next on the list? Leviathan?”

Ardyn took a moment to admire the shift in attire ; Kefka still resembled himself, although he was somewhat more human. In a strange sense of delight, Ardyn rather enjoyed the similarities between the pair. Their disguises, the extravagance of their wears, even the way they both disguised their malevolence beneath such shallow pretenses. Kefka's attempt at blending in being that of a rambunctious military general and Ardyn's ; a coy, over-the-top chancellor. 

Well, it would be hard to suggest that the pair didn’t have a penchant for the delightfully macabre.

Ogling eyes aside, the accursed ex-royal shone a smile wide enough toward Kefka to make himself almost look happy. He lingered for a moment, appreciating the moment shared before his lips could no longer reign in his words. 

“Never mind the list as of right now...” he chuckled “more important - is our date.”

Suddenly the rendezvous with a radio and good drinks had become a full-fledged but date, but honestly Ardyn wouldn’t mind if Kefka didn’t. Altissia would only be a short way away should the two have decided to teleport and there, they could drink ; enjoy the blissful sight of Leviathan’s waves and then when all was said and done...kill the bitch. 

“I don’t…I don’t understand.” Noctis wasn’t stupid by any means, but he had only been fed certain parts of the story – the parts the Astrals wanted him to know, not the parts he needed to know. Luna painted the picture of him being some ‘Chosen One.’ She said that when he was older he’d form…cove-somethings with the Gods and he’d destroy the starscourge.

Noctis had been unsure. He was just a kid – nothing special. The idea that he was supposed to be some kind of champion for the Astrals seemed unreal. But he had put on a confident facade because he had wanted to impress Luna.

Nobody had told him how he was expected to do it though. Nobody had told him about the sacrifice he would have to make.

Ardyn seemed to know something Noctis didn’t though and Noctis didn’t like that. Before he had no reason to suspect that he was being kept in the dark but now…now Ardyn had captured his childish curiosity and the Prince wanted – needed to know.

But he still didn’t know if he could trust Ardyn.

“The Emperor tried to have me killed.” He said after a long while, his gaze finally lifting to meet Ardyn’s. It was no secret that the Empire had been behind the Marilith attack and it was because of them that Noct had been hurt. It was because of them that Noctis was haunted by nightmares and it was their fault that he sometimes struggled to walk, even being healed by the Oracle.

Noctis may be afraid of Ardyn, but he was utterly terrified of the Emperor.

“Why should I trust you?”

"Who said anything about the Emperor?" 

His words fell like lead. Any of Ardyn's true intentions now shone ripe through the amber of his gaze. There was no emperor; no Niflheim. No MT's or even the Nox Fleurets'. This was between Noctis and Ardyn; a brew concocted over the centuries and now served up fresh and hot. Too hot to touch. Too scolding to perhaps even consider. 

For the empire, for Iedolas, Verstael and even Noctis’ own father ; this conversation was nought. This tangent of betrayal was nigh for even their ears. 

No. This was between Ardyn and Noctis. The man and the boy.

He threw his hair back, sliding a palm over it’s wavy lengths, straightening them somewhat into a neater display, and then he slowly approaches the young prince. Eyes staring down at him, a continuation of his words ready to drop from his lips at any given moment. 

He watches Noctis for a second. Waiting for speech, a response. Even a sigh or a scream. 

❝Good!❞ He said as he started to follow the man. Leo started to yawn because of the tiredness. He really wanted to sleep after those hours of journey and he didn’t know where he was. The place didn’t seem very dangerous; of course, when the town finished there couldbe dangers but that was normal. He kept walking by putting his hands behind his head.

“Good man!”

The chancellor exclaimed his pride in the stranger, partnering his good will with a heavy pat upon the other’s back. Hard enough to be friendly and insulting all at once. Walking the man further toward what Ardyn could discern was the main forest path; he turned, eyes blaring through the darkness toward the other. 

“I see, you wish to learn more about these since you never seen them before in your life? I remember you saying there was a Crystal here as well? Also, yes, my home world is one I wish to see but found myself lost here with no way to return..”

Bartz replied as he still felt a uneasiness with Ardyn but why? Why was the essence of the Wind Crystal telling him to run and run far? Was there something about the Chancellor that spelt trouble or anything? He kept his guard up as he continued to speak with the man, curious of this world as well.

His brain still scratching to figure out why the essence was warning him of something he had yet to fully understand as it pained him so.

“Precisely. Only ever have my eyes bore into one crystal and even then ; its body was cracked...” he talks as a man almost entirely lost in thought “cracked...but magnificent.” 

His thoughts flicker through the first instance he’d shared with the marvel...when he was a young man, chosen by it’s divination to exact righteousness upon the world. His memories were as damaged as Eos’ crystal ; as worn, too. But that would not stop him, he would persevere.

FOR EVERY “⏳” I RECEIVE, MY MUSE WILL OPENLY TALK ABOUT A BIT OF THEIR BACKSTORY.

"It's curious really..." he fades in and out of consciousness; tired from their day but aware enough to tell a tale "I've lived on both sides." Although he appeared talkative, the chancellor weaved a certain sort of misery throughout his tone. A lamenting, almost. 

“I understand our enemies more than they know. More than they could grasp, even.” Although now he somewhat doubted his words. Now, he almost toyed with the idea that he had perhaps forgotten some of his earlier life. “I once stood where they stand now. At the helm of brilliance; corrupted by nought. Pure of heart.” He exchanges a glance with his lover, but then he quickly pulls his gaze away. Almost as if he’s...ashamed. 

“When you change...you feel it, don’t you?” His question was rhetorical, but he almost knew Kefka would understand and perhaps even have an answer. “My power was so absolute then. The will of the gods. Yet I knew...” he hummed “I knew when it had all changed.” 

“The day I approached man with intent so good...only to leave with stained hands. My will had changed that day ; my spirit, darkened. It was a child, my love...” he shook his head, recalling the memory with no fondness “a child in need. Yet the whispers of my heart demanded no aid upon this youngling. I left the child to rot...under the curse of the blackness.” 

A silence sits between them, until he finally speaks some more. Ending his tale. 

“By the time I had realised my wrongdoings; I ventured back to save her. Do you know how this tale ends? Well...of course you do. I’m here now. No different to how I was then; in that moment. Hands only capable of inflicting ill upon the masses...a heart, black. The child was dead and I...too late. Alas, that was the moment I knew.” 

He seemed awfully sensitive when it came to his standard Earth vehicle. Despite everything Hal didn’t have the heart to tell him how little it seemed to be worth, the thing practically looked like it was rusting. She could probably optimize it if he let her, not for Ardyn, of course. More to keep herself from going mad with boredom. She leaned back, her posture somehow always defiant. IT was as though she was testing him.

“…I think the only word that made sense there was ‘airship’, my dude.” she looked confused, at least it seemed as though Hal was dropping the ‘human’ act somewhat. He didn’t know the specifics, he didn’t need too. It was when they got to where they were going that bothered her.

Better to go the way that took the longest, she could bide her time easier; figure out exactly what she was going to do.

“We can take this thing, I guess, if I get to drive!” she beamed at him, “Kidding… kidding. Uh- unless you were gonna say ‘yes’.”

There was something almost sweet about her earlier perkiness arising once more ; though the use of 'my dude' would certainly be met with the raised brow of a man now feeling far older than he actually was. Such was in-keeping with the company of elderly leaders and middle-aged warriors. One simply didn't hear such terms of endearment. Funny really, how an 'alien' knew more of youth and pop culture than him. Although, he wouldn't necessarily change such fact.

He starts the car up with much tinkering (supposedly his vehicle required the special touch of it's owner simply just to go). Once started, he shoots her a side glance ; a serious peak into the rear-view mirror at her and a very silent, yet firm 'no' in response to her hopes of going anywhere near the driver's seat.

“This thing?” Ardyn sounds almost offended. “My child, this work of art on wheels is almost certainly older than you are. More experienced to boot. Such a materialistic marvel only rarely comes around and thus should be appreciated” he speaks as if she’s more of a girlfriend than a car “she is my Magdalene. My Christine. You wont be driving her anytime soon.” He ends his confession of love with a small grin before the two take off. It would be a while before dark and Galdin Quay was just a short way away. 

As soon as Ardyn mentioned the courtyard, Even already knew where they were headed. He could hear the gravitas in the other’s voice. It was solemn, weighty, mournful.

Even trailed behind Ardyn by a couple of steps as they walked through the halls. Tension creased Ardyn’s back and shoulders, stiff as boards beneath his flowy shirt. They passed through the halls in their grandiose melancholy. Even remembered the first time he’d seen them, the tones of black and grey so different and yet somehow a somber parallel to the white and purple of Radiant Garden. The ancestors of the line Lucis Caelum looked down upon them, including the most revered Lucii themselves, immortalized in paint.

Upon arriving in the courtyard, Even stopped at the entrance and let Ardyn go to where his sister lie buried. The blond remembered when Ardyn had mentioned his dear sister, who had died shortly before they had arrived at school. From then on, her place in the throne room was always covered in a black mantle, and none would sit there again.

He was sure that Ardyn would be all right, but he kept his attention on him in case he was needed.

The prince lowered himself to the foot of the grave, casting a sombre gaze atop it’s thorny embrace to the ground. The weeds had not been plucked from it’s cracks and grass formed at the base of the pedestal in a mucky web of moss. From a distance, the grave had looked pristine and yet a closer look would remind the future king of the family’s isolation. 

It’d been long since Ardyn’s mother had tended to the viny grips of Abeline’s fingers grasping for life once more. Even his father, who was a concise, neat man had rarely ventured to the grave site. The child had been denied mourning; even a whisper of a lullaby from her parents. 

“Soon, it’ll be completely grown over” he looks solemnly toward the stone; now alone with only Abeline and Even. “When I’m gone...” his eyes remain dry; denied of any further tears “you’ll tend to this for me, won’t you?” He spoke in a sombre tone and yet desperation clung to every word. 

The thought would torment him enough...the image of her grave overrun with thorny weeds. It was a fate unfitting of the child; one she’d never deserved. 

Even glanced over to his friend as he spoke, knowingly immediately what that look was. His brow furrowed. Skipping class? “Hmm…” The anxiety fluttered at the bottom of his stomach. Ardyn was partially right. The instructor would certainly notice the gaping hole in the classroom–they usually sat next to each other–but Even doubted any strict disciplinary action would be taken. He looked at the door. He could be wrong.

But the idea of a break sounded fantastic. His hand seemed to speak for itself as it throbbed in pain.

He quickly looked back to Ardyn. “Let’s go, before I change my mind. Lead the way.”

“I quite like it when you chose to rebel, Even!” 

The boy spoke with a jeer and a blush across his cheeks. The orderly, straight-laced Even, bunking off of lesson with his best mate? Nursing a near-broken arm, to boot?! Why it was unheard of! It was danger! It was treason to the highest degree when one so lawful decided to break the rules and you know what? Ardyn loved it. 

He took Even’s good hand in his own; snatching him as he would the boy’s reluctant spirit. 

“I don’t get it. How can you have no idea? Everyone here knows what a Lilikin is and you look like one so how can you not know?” He knew for a fact this wasn’t a dream so, could it be? Was it possible? This guy could be like him? And his sister? Yet that didn’t seem right either. Still, there had to be some explanation. One that wasn’t, this is a dream. 

“Ohh yeah, this is real fantastic.. al. What are you so thrilled about anyway? Shouldn’t you be more worried? You look like you’re having the time of your life.” Lann furrows his eyebrows disbelief on his face. How could he just be smiling so causally over this situation like it was no big deal? “Did you lose your memory also?” Surely that would explain this right? Sure, he didn’t believe the other to be like his sister or him, but perhaps he had some form of amnesia? “Can you tell me anything about yourself? Your name? Your favorite color?” He peers down at the Lilikin looking at him curiously. Lann wouldn’t know the answers, but if he wasn’t given any answers, then that would be proof the stranger may have forgotten his memories. Then again the other could make responses off the top of his head that were lies, but Lann was going to assume he wouldn’t. 

A thought occurs that causes him to ask one more question. “Do you feel like you’re missing something or forgetting something?” It had occurred to Lann that it was possible this guy could have been like him who retained some of his memories but wasn’t aware he had lost the others. Still, he wasn’t a God like Enna Kros so what could he truly do except ask vague questions and hope something clicks. 

If amnesia wasn’t it well it was back to square one all over again of him trying to figure this mystery out. 

The boy’s persistence was enough to bring even Ardyn’s jaw to a sharp snap of a close. His teeth clenched together, though they felt less like teeth and more like strange, fleshy gummys in his mouth. Whatever vile curse had poisoned him had even made the gnashes beneath his lips cute! Oh, the horror! 

Ardyn chewed the edge of his tongue, desperate that between his lips would form a word and not the numbing pain of idle chewing. Did he feel like he was missing something? What was his name?  His favourite colour? Gee, what WAS his favourite colour? 

Eventually the interrogation wears thin upon the completely befuddled immortal and he gives into the basic query of the boy. 

“You can help me Sir? You know how to use Crystals to create portals and such? Didn’t know you could do that, if you could, I would greatly appreciate that.

Thank-you for this generous offer and I guess I could show you the various Job Classes I carry with me, couldn’t hurt right since you want to help me out with returning to my world.”

Bartz bowed his head politely as he smiled a bit to Ardyn, appreciating the kind gesture and concern the Chancellor was giving by the looks of it.

Well holy hell, he’d cracked the shell and now reached that rich, gooey centre...and boy was it tasting sweet! The luscious savour of a shallow victory. 

Bartzs’ earlier rebuttals for any and all mention of the crystals had now happily been replaced with an influx of offering. Tit for tat and all that. Ardyn had no doubt in his mind that the boy was true to his word; should one give, one would receive after all.

Yes, he did rather like it. He enjoyed Ardyn’s flirtatious nature quite a bit. It was refreshing for the God to have someone speak to him the way the Chancellor did

And there was that smile. Ardyn’s smile did rather please Kefka. During the time they’d grown to know each other, he’d learned just how truly unhappy the fallen king was, and just how important the vengeance was to him

Kefka gave a little bow to Ardyn, allowing him to move forward for the kill.

“You may refer to me in any manner you desire, Your Highness,” he purred. Hungrily, he watched the undying slice the Astral in two with that powerful sword of his. Even more hungrily, he flitted forward to absorb the dying Astral’s power. His eyes were a pure gold as he consumed it, feeling the essence of another amongst the many Espers.

Red ashes fall. He supposes it’s the equivalent of the earthen Astral’s blood. Regardless, he finds the sight riveting and he uses the opportunity to approach what he perceives as his partner.

“We do make a lovely team, don’t we?” His eyes are just becoming blue again.

“Shall we celebrate this victory perhaps?” They’d teased at the topic before, although they’d lain together plenty of times, though Kefka was never one to initiate a relationship.

Witnessing he fall of Titan was stupendous ; a feat to be marvelled at. The astral had crashed as Ardyn had himself, once before. Only this time was different, very clearly so. Ardyn had no longer had any patience for theatrics ; his last strike had been the crushing blow. Complete devastation. 

War on the gods, waged with a pleasured hand. 

He’d have to be damned not to have enjoyed the chaotic justice. Annihilated by the pair. Hell, Ardyn was the damned and thus any preposition of justice regarding the astral would fall hilariously short of his conscious. 

He looked toward the mage; eyes smiling with a cocktail of relief and malevolence, he searches for a smile...Kefka’s smile. And his was as fading as Ardyn’s. A grin laced with toxic vines, the seeds bloomed of a poisonous past. Both men could laugh, smile or even bask in such terror yet their humour had birthed from grim beginnings. Honestly, Ardyn rather liked that about the mage. Humble beginnings and all that. 

Despite any disguised feelings, Ardyn could appreciate the beauty of the moment. Kefka’s delightful laugh, the Titan’s scream. Twas perfect. 

Was this being trying to test his patience? because it was working; he could feel his nerves starting to twitch slightly. What this man was was not human, now that he got a better look at him, a better look at his aura and the smell was that of a darker being. “Oh, you’re scared now are you? I would have thought the threat alone would have sent you packin, oh and what do my eyes see another old man?” This side of him had not been seen in centuries one of his original state, unlike the fragmented half that had made itself known moments ago, threatening the man’s life. 

“Why don’ ya be on yer way before I have ya fer super and use yer bones as a toothpick, though then again with how old you smell yer bones might just turn ta dust.” He growled stepping just a bit closer, but being stopped by the accursed chains that wrapped his wrists, neck, and ankles. “If you wanna see a beast I’ll show ya a beast but it’s a pain to change forms with this shit on me, why don’ ya help a guy out and break em?” He motioned to the metal that held him to a certain point.

“Oh my” the chancellor’s facade faded into the expression of an agape jaw and widened eyes. He flatfooted it backward from the demon. The curtain had almost certainly been raised upon his performance and yet he failed to find himself at the foot of a bed of roses. No. This reception was anything but. Hell it was none of the roses and all of the thorns but goddamn, it left an impression. One both sharp and vivid enough to encourage a hefty grin across his expression. 

“Quite the introduction” he shrugs off the comments regarding his age. Well, two-thousand-years did that to you (even if Ardyn was under the impression that he was looking quite well for his age!)