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[daemonized]

ardyn izunia.

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[verflair]

[ X’rhun had suspected that any response to his missive, if there was to be any at all, was going to take some time. It gives him some time, as well, to mull over what he would say when he and Ardyn eventually crossed paths again.

He did not expect the man to just show up at his door, even though X’rhun had given him the option. It’s a small miracle that Ardyn catches him at home, since X’rhun has been busy helping Wyver put itself back together in the wake of the chaos. He opens the door, looking weary, a smudge of ash brushed over one cheek, like he had just collapsed into bed to sleep as he was after getting home. His clothes are plain, since his Duelist uniform remains ruined and bloodstained, shoved into a chest to deal with when he has more time.

There’s no mistaking the relief that passes over his face when he sees Ardyn there. His ears perk, and behind him, his tail waves. He eyes the scarf around Ardyn’s neck. ]

I was right to think that color would suit you, it seems.

[daemonized]

[Ardyn stands there, the same smile on his face. The same demeanor to his form, flippant and a bit uncaring. X'rhun perhaps knows him well enough, by now, to realize that this state of his is insincere in many ways. A mask, tossed out to the forefront, to shield himself against the unknowns of this conversation.

A hand comes up to tug at the scarf, the one not grasping the book-statue in his hand.] I think any hue suits me, when cast against the color of black.

[He holds out said statue, glittering in the light. X'rhun looks tired and worn, but Ardyn does not bother to even remark on it.]

This is yours, I believe.

[verflair]

[ Ardyn’s guard is up, and he cannot blame him. He is quite aware that offering to build a bridge does not mean they both won’t go plummeting over the edge anyway. ]

Aye, that it is. Thank you.

[ He takes the book-that-is-not-quite-a-book from Ardyn, stepping aside to admit him through the door. ]

Please, come in.

[daemonized]

[Ardyn is under the impression that the whole of this will be a waste of time. That bridge will crumble under the weight of all that he is, all that he cannot apologize for, and so shall they plummet to the chasm below. Heart and steel, indeed. He was in need of neither.

Regardless, he will entertain him. He steps in when invited, glancing around. It looks much the same since he was last here, and Ardyn gestures vaguely in his companion's direction.]

You've been kept busy. Did I come at a bad time?

[verflair]

[ It smells of coffee inside, which may be the only notable difference. ]

I’ve been helping put things back together in the wake of the… celebrations. [ The air quotes around “celebrations” are practically audible. ] But if you’ll forgive me for having just rolled out of bed, it’s not a bad time at all.

[ He motions towards his small kitchen table, one chair already pushed out some, in front of which sits a cup of coffee and an open book. ]

Take a seat. I don’t know about you, but I’ve no desire to dance around the reason you’re here for much longer.

[daemonized]

And neither do I.

[Ardyn moves towards where indicated, taking a seat on the other side of the kitchen table. He leans in elbows forward, pressing into the surface, the smile keen on his features. He ignores the scent of coffee catching in his nose.]

Ask your questions. But, as you might suspect, I am not here to discredit anything Prompto might have told you. Undoubtedly, it was all true.

[Most might say that the accusations could've been mired in hyperbole. What does it say about what he's done, then, that he does not even think that this applies?]

[verflair]

[ X’rhun reclaims his usual chair, closing the book and setting it aside, the golden book statue on top of it. The mug remains untouched, steam rising from the contents. ]

I suppose my first, and biggest, question would be… why? I can guess, but that seems to be all I ever do where you’re concerned.

[daemonized]

[Why, indeed. The answer was complicated and yet very simple at the same time. The truth of the matter, kept very close to his heart, and not to be revealed to anyone. That lingering wish to die, to rest, to fulfill the prophecy and show that yawning stretch of his hatred in the process.

He just laughs, looking amused.]

'Why' to which part? You'll have to be a little more specific than that.

[verflair]

Any of it. All of it. Why the deception? The games? The death? Why set your sights on Prompto and his friends specifically? Why steal away the sunlight?

[ X’rhun has his doubts about being able to wring the whole truth out of Ardyn, even with the ugly stuff at the forefront, but he has to hope for something. ]

[daemonized]

['All of it' would be his overall goals, then. He leans back in his seat, considering X'rhun for a moment before continuing. It was easy, to water it all down to something singular, the reason behind why he feels spite constantly clawing at his insides -- even more prevalent than the way the Starscourge perpetually churns under his skin.]

Because I wanted an end to my family line. Revenge against those that turned their back on me, their precious light, their precious Crystal. I was written as the villain in Eos' story, its sad little prophecy. It was so very easy to find myself filling that role without even thinking.

[verflair]

[ That is not surprising in the least, and in fact was just what X’rhun had figured. Despite good intentions at the outset, there is darkness – literal darkness – that lives in Ardyn now, has turned him into something other than human. It would be easy to look at that and to condemn him for it.

After so long being painted the villain, why not play the part? ]

I had suspected as much, to tell you the truth, but now that you have mentioned it… care to tell me about this prophecy?

[daemonized]

[He wonders if he's feeling generous enough to entertain this conversation. It is true that X'rhun asks out of curiosity, a desire to understand. But the prophecy, that destiny that he fell into by way of trying to avoid it, forever remains something that sticks bitterly at his spirit.

But he humors him, for now. There was no harm in enlightenment, though Ardyn's grin has become a bit facetious at this point. He recites something from the Cosmogony, without missing a single beat.]

'O'er rotted Soil, under blighted sky,
A dread Plague the Wicked hath wrought.
In the Light of the Gods, Sword-Sworn at his Side
'Gainst the Dark the King's Battle is fought.
From the Heavens high, to the Blessed below,
Shines the Beam of a Peace long besought.
Long live thy Line, and this Stone divine,
For the Night when All comes to Naught.'

[He hums a little, a sound of satisfaction coming from his throat.]

The Starcourge, as I told you before, is something that plagued all of Eos -- but this was not a new development. Millennia ago, it existed. Its spread was finally delayed, quelled for a time, the darkness receding in that ancient age long past. But the Astrals, the gods, they knew it would return. That at some point, darkness would once more encroach upon the land, and so they granted my star the Crystal, an ancient artifact that dispels the dark with its light and immeasurable magic.

And to guard the Crystal, a family line, chosen to found the kingdom of Lucis, to become its royalty. To eventually... [He can't help but laugh here, again.] To eventually produce a True King, a Chosen King, that would fight against the darkness when it returned. One that would finally destroy the Starscourge and the avatar of it, at the expense of their own life.

But why wait for the Prophecy to fulfill itself, when there was healing to be done? When I could end the pain of others, stop their transformations into daemons, one individual at a time? Even if it meant taking in that darkness into myself, I would do so. Just to help my people — I wanted nothing more. But when it came time to ascend to the throne, as a proper Lucis Caelum should, I was denied because of that corruption alive in me. Called impure of heart and soul, and by workings of gods and family alike, I was exiled from my home. From everything that I cared about.

[It was like having his heart ripped from his chest. It did so much more damage than anything the Starscourge had twisted him into. This, he knows.]

In trying to aid the Light, I became Darkness. I wonder, sometimes, if that was always what I was meant for. That my good intentions were only the moving pieces of a great, cosmic joke, and that I was always destined to be crushed under the heel of fate. But it didn’t matter any longer, I had a part to play, and motivation to see it through to the end.

[Sometime during all of this, Ardyn's body had grown taut. Tense. Only when he's finished does it seem to uncoil, slowly.]

Is that explanation enough?

[verflair]

[ Despite how weary he had seemed when he first opened the door, X’rhun listens now with rapt attention, blue eyes locked on Ardyn as he tells his tale.

He once drew similarities between Ardyn and Arya, the pupil that still lays asleep on the Natha’s station. The girl with the blood of a voidsent in her veins. At the time, he hadn’t known just how on the nose that comparison was, but where Arya was able to break free of the shackles of her fate, Ardyn is a prisoner to it still. He wonders, if there had been but one soul to reach out to Ardyn, to care, would the story have been rewritten?

It’s useless, wondering about that now when this tale has been thousands of years in the telling already. ]

I did not expect you to be so forthright, actually. So, thank you.

[ It throws some things into perspective. The long and dark history of Ardyn Izunia is much darker and longer than he can truly fathom. It’s more than even Prompto probably knows. ]

I imagine, then, you spent your very long life waiting for this “true king”, and for the prophecy to come to pass. I also imagine this time wasn’t spent idly.

[daemonized]

[It was forthcoming, but the deepest, most painful truths lay hidden. That is how Ardyn would prefer it, always.

But one thing is obvious: at this point, X'rhun knows more than Prompto, though he thinks that's not saying much, for Ardyn always kept everyone in the dark until it was convenient for him.]

A truth for a truth. It is only fair that if Prompto tells you what he knows, that I do the same. Now you may let it coalesce together in your mind, so that you can come to the same conclusion -- that it will be impossible for you to overlook the lives that I took, the way the world writhed and slowly died in the dark, regardless of what pity you might feel. Keep it to yourself, X'rhun. I have no need for it.

[But the other man's words imply more explanation, and Ardyn deigns to give it.] Much of my time spent in Eos was that of a wanderer. Biding my time. I only joined Niflheim once I knew the chosen king was soon to be born.

[Easy to judge, when the state of the Starscourge could be measured with a thought. How it grew and desperately wanted to rise up, to fulfill what it existed to do.]

So yes, I waited. And now, I still wait. He sleeps in a pod, high above our heads now. Prompto's friend, you see.

[verflair]

[ He has things he’d like to say, about the lives that lay lost at Ardyn’s feet and what that means to him – what that means for them, but the conversation marches onward, and he would rather give that the moment it deserves.

On the subject of Prompto’s friend, however… ]

What would you do, were he to wake?

[daemonized]

There is nothing for me to do. Make his life difficult, perhaps, because it amuses me?

[But he cannot kill him. Noctis would be that small, sliver of hope that if things could go back to the way they were, maybe... maybe he could continue down the path he walked once before.]

He's been awake before, but not as I remember him last. Ten years younger, just like Prompto. Useless, weak. Not fit to fight me, not even close to becoming a king. He would die in an instant.

[verflair]

I cannot begin to wrap my head around how it is that there is a ten-year gap between you and everyone else, though I have experienced such a phenomenon myself, among those from mine own star.

[ Some unfathomable effect of the Storm, some quirk of the Natha. Paltry explanations at best, but he figures that the real reason is just as incomprehensible to him. ]

So, did you not get to confront him before Eos was lost?

[daemonized]

No.

[Oh, there's that wave of bitterness again. Reminding him of how close he was to finally achieving what he wanted, after so many long years.]

He was to confront me in the Citadel's throne room. In the interim, I had summoned Ifrit to keep him busy, but-- well. Here we are now.

[verflair]

Thousands of years of waiting, all for naught.

[ He can't fathom what that must be like, either. ]

Ifrit, though? Funny, you're not the first person here to have told me they summoned a god -- Astral, Primal, whatever you wish to call it.

[daemonized]

[All for naught. Yes, he's gotten to the core of the issue, though it's obvious enough with the explanation that Ardyn's given him.

His brow arches at that last bit, however.]

And who else here has summoned a god before?

[Not that he should be particularly surprised. Anything goes, really, when it comes to the other refugees of this place.]

[verflair]

Someone from home – [ he says it simply, spreading his hands. ] – summoned a Primal in an act of desperation. The whole of their story is not mine to tell, so I will leave it at that.

We remain friends, however.

[daemonized]

[A little tidbit to be stored away for later, but not so prominent in his mind that he will press for the entire story.]

And you and I? Do you still call me friend after what you now know?

[verflair]

[ And here they are, at the true crux of the matter. X’rhun sighs, rests his elbows on the table to lace his fingers together in front of his face. ]

I am well aware of what you’ve just laid in front of me. It is as if I find myself sitting across from the Elder Primal himself, left to judge him for the destruction he has wrought.

[ And indeed, the comparison to Bahamut is not terribly far-fetched. ]

There is no denying your many sins, the lives you took in the name of vengeance or prophecy or whatever else, the pain you have caused, but in the end… your judgement is not mine to give. I do not like the things you have done, as you can imagine. To learn of all this… it makes me sad, makes me angry, but to cast you away seems wrong.

And I know, I know, you think I look at you and see some pitiable wretch, a monster, a puppet pulled along helplessly by the strings of fate and that I feel sorry for you. I don’t. I look at you and I see a man worth trying to save. I’d not have leapt in front of you if I thought otherwise.

[daemonized]

[He watches X'rhun, and his lips press into a thin line as he hears the other say that he is a man worth trying to save. That he is not pitied, but rather viewed as something salvageable, as if there was anything still left in that dark mire that is himself.

He isn't sure what wells up first. Exasperation, frustration, anger? A prickling of regret, as sharp as broken glass, jutting up in the wreckage of it all? Hate, even -- hate directed at his circumstances, both of the past and now. Irritation at the naiveté being tossed his way, the push and pull of others not being able to understand, and Ardyn unwilling to fully explain.

He hates all of it. He hates that he lives in a universe where he cannot rest, where he must keep existing as this awful thing, he hates himself for being cursed in this way, he wishes he could turn back the hands of time and just crush Eos into nothing, even before Noctis was born. At least, then, something would have been accomplished. More than just wallowing in a world that wasn't his, suspended in an oppressive limbo, while everyone else moved on without him.]

Then you're a fool. All of you are.

[He thinks of Prompto, his implications about humanity and how he had called it ridiculous. It was ridiculous. It still is.]

There is nothing worth saving. The sooner you realize that, the easier it will be for you.

[verflair]

I know well my own foolishness. You don’t have to tell me.

[ He is the sort of fool who believes in the good of others, who believes that no one is not worth saving. Who would fling himself in front of an immortal man to shield him. ]

What I don’t understand is you. You lied to me to, what? Prolong the inevitable? Now here I am, telling you that this is not the end you thought it to be, and you’re still pushing.