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[A hand comes up to rub at his face, briefly, before he let a breath out through his teeth.]

Mm. Was, you said. There is, of course, always the option of not applying the responsibilities of your past life to this one, though... I understand that's easier said than done.

[He gestured at Noctis while he spoke.] Still, that doesn't mean that you must change how you act and how you feel now, am I right? The obligations do not carry over. There has to be time to process this information, and neither of us are even in possession of the full story.

[ Noctis makes a face, shifting his glance away. ]

Sounds like, if I am what's in these memories, I'm King of Nothing with an abysmal outlook.

Would have been fine with blissful ignorance.

[ He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. ]

Still, I can't exactly help but wonder what all of this means. What or... Who caused this.

[ Noctis looks to Ardyn. ]

There... Were bodies hanging from the ceiling of the throne. In your dream. Do you know who they were?

[His mouth twists into a deeper frown, that memory coming back to the surface. Those bodies, hanging like marionettes. In the dream, they were laughing at him, commenting upon all of his thoughts — but he knows that in his memories proper, they still existed. Dead things, swaying gently in the dark. Something black oozing from their features, but he could not recall their faces. This still remains locked in his head.

He wonders if this is something he ever wishes to truly know.]

…No.

[That, at least, is the complete truth. He doesn’t remember who they were.]

But I feel as if they were important, somehow. Someone mentioned that they must have been on display for a reason, for that isn’t something done on a whim.

[ He can't get any of this out of his head. Noctis struggles to make connections because everything is... Scattered. The Crystal, the Daemons... Magitek soldiers, darkness, a war. Everything is intertwined somehow, but he can't decipher a start and finish. Nothing makes sense.

He's King. Prince. He's not sure what, but he's heard both, so somewhere along the way, the "reigning" King either passed away or stepped down from the throne. He doesn't even know who the King is. Obviously his father, but he doesn't have a name or face to it.

He traveled with three men. Presumably making money as a monster hunter, but... Why were they traveling in the first place? They were making way towards something.

The war. The destruction. When did all of this happen? Noctis leans forward and pinches the bridge of his nose. He didn't recognize any of those people hanging from the ceiling either. Why were they on display like that? ]

There's... I mean, there's gotta be some sort of antagonist in all this, right?

[ He pushes the hair back from his bangs, visibly confused and lost. ]

Why did I disappear for ten years? And where did I go? I can't even place when on the timeline that the Citadel was destroyed. Obviously in the war, but...

[ His gaze shifts back to Ardyn. ]

Maybe it's about time we... I don't know. Try to establish a timeline? Lay out all our memories.

It's starting to bug me.

[There's gotta be some sort of antagonist in all this, right? Ardyn doesn't respond immediately, he only shifts his weight in his chair, looking like he's settling in for a long conversation. He might be. His eyes, gone bright amber, almost gold, thanks to Retrospec, flit over Noctis' face.]

I wonder.

[He tilts his head back slightly, looking up at the ceiling in thought. He wanted to draw a timeline? That was only fair, and perhaps it would benefit him as well, but there was so much that he was uncomfortable talking about. So much he had to cut away at, to toss aside, so that he could keep it to himself for now, before he decided how to tackle them head-on. But there is guilt in hiding all the details. It makes him feel like a liar, a hypocrite. He hates it, but he cannot tell Noctis and Prompto or hardly anyone about the anger and hate and the desire to destroy that he felt in that past life. He does not want to lose any of them, and he's already pushed Prompto so far away.]

Well... [He exhales, closing his eyes, then looks at Noctis again.] My memories -- some of the first I ever received -- began with me being a healer, traveling the land. Do you remember anything like a sickness plaguing our world, Noctis?

[ He knows that there's going to be a large portion of this conversation that leaves a bad taste in his mouth. While some of the memories have been tame, to a point, a lot of what he's recalled lately has been daunting. Nevermind the recurring nightmare of that Crystal. He's avoided talking about it, because he feels as though he's welcoming this into his life. Into his sense of self. And he rejects this, but all the same...

Noctis leans forward a bit, elbows at his knees. He looks about as surprised as one blissfully ignorant should be. ]

Sickness? No.

I remember darkness being a big problem. With the daemons crawling around, but no plague.

You know I possess a healing power.

[Ardyn shifted again in his seat, getting comfortable to explain all of this. He wished the tension in his back would uncoil and dissipate, but to no avail.]

That much was shared with that other me, long ago. Some of what I can only assume are his earliest memories, he... I travelled the world, healing those that were afflicted. It was something dark, something painful. Eventually, it turned people in daemons.

[Strange, then, how the daemonification process was used to create MTs then, isn't it?]

[ Noctis listens intently, expression falling into something of focus and intrigue. But there’s a seriousness here that he doesn’t usually display. If anything, it keeps him from getting too uncomfortable, because he truthfully dislikes talking about this to an extent. He’s realizing that he doesn’t have much of a choice these days.

He recalls Ardyn’s healing ability, mostly because it didn’t work on him. And he has to wonder if it somehow made it worse, because Noctis lost consciousness shortly after...

But that doesn’t make sense. Why would it? If it’s worked on others?

He’s not able to linger on that thought for long. The last part of his explanation has Noctis sitting upright rather fast. ]

It what?

[ Noctis actually has no idea that MTs are tied in to all that. He’s aware there’s a connection, but only because he’s aware of Prompto’s identity. ]

Exactly what I said.

[He sighed, letting breath out through his teeth.]

It would cause pain, sickness... but how it truly manifested was how it changed people into daemons. I remember some of them, even.

[They were the first of his memories, ironically enough.]

Edited 2018-03-12 17:06 (UTC)

[ It honestly worries him. Noctis feels his gut coil because he knows fully what Prompto is. Does that mean he’s ill? Would this hurt him? The idea of Prompto turning into some daemon horrifies him and hurts him beyond belief. ]

Does it happen quickly? There’s a way to avoid this, right?

[ Because what if Retrospec decided to bring this forward... ]

I don't know. I...

[He pauses, hesitant.]

I don't know if it's the same process across the board. I do remember that when I healed others, the transformation they underwent was slow. There was a window for them to be saved with my magic.

[ A sickness... A threat of darkness. Are they somehow connected? Noctis sits up as Ardyn continues. ]

Did you end up in Insomnia? Like living there.

If we're related, that means we're both royalty. Do you remember being in the Citadel before war broke out?

[His brow furrows, peeling back through his memories as if he hadn't done so a thousand times before. As if something might spark, as they are often wont to do.

Nothing rears its head, not just yet.]

I don't think so. But... that doesn't mean that I hadn't been. There are still great gaps in my memory.

[He pauses again, as if standing on the precipice of a conversation he's not quite sure he wants to entertain. But Ardyn makes the choice to do so anyway.]

Beyond the one memory that you're aware of. The throne room, couched in darkness.

[ Not a whole lot of memories from this past are whimsical by any means. Some are more upbeat than others, but most involve these strange feelings of dread and fear. Noct’s posture starts to slack a little, when the throne is brought up again. Noctis recalls the image of rubble and darkness that spilled from broken windows. A large throne seated atop an eternity of stairs.

Noctis narrows his gaze. His stomach sinks when he adds: ]

The Crystal was there.

[ Not in the strange keep he’d originally remembered it in. ]

What’s that thing’s purpose anyway? It comes up constantly, it was obviously a large part of the war.

I don't know. It was powerful, I think -- there was magic radiating from it, in that strange vision of mine. And it was seated above the throne itself. A symbol of power, if not more than that.

[He knits his brow together, just thinking on it. Noctis saw it himself, he didn't need to explain it again.]

To say that it was important, I think, is not a wrong assessment.

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