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Their first encounter was something Noct wouldn’t easily forget. It had caught him off guard though really, thinking back it shouldn’t have. When he and his friends found the Imperial base on their way it had quickly been decided that they would bring it down. That came to no surprise.
So they had set out, Prompto’s eyes shining with rare determination, Gladio’s hands clenched into angry fists, Noctis’ eyes glowing slightly with the gods’ fuchsia and Ignis showing that scary demeanor, reminding everyone around him that no one should mess with mama.
His first hint had been that Commander’s rambling about the Chancellor sending Highwind to watch him and whatever else he was complaining about. But without heeding it they captured that Uldred dude and went to crush the base when suddenly things went from good to bad in no time.
Ignis arrived, mentioning the Nif escaped the hunters and before they could make their leave the threatening sound of MT-engines filled the air. He barely noticed the weird color before his eyes stuck to the woman literally jumping them. She was elegant and graceful and she was no doubt dangerous.
Long story short the fight had been harsh and hard and afterwards Noctis hoped he wouldn’t have to face that woman ever again.
Yet of course – just as with his hopes of not seeing that damned Chancellor again – he found himself face to face with one Commodore Aranea Highwind yet again when they were looking for Mythril. Considering the big guy wasn’t with them he was pretty glad she was on their side, more or less.
“Nice cover, runaway prince.” She tilted her head, somehow managing to fit naturally into her surroundings despite her armor and all the layers of fabric and coats. “Thanks!” If looks could kill his traitor of a best friend would fall to the ground as said runaway prince put his hands in his hips. “Oh come on!”
Yet, Aranea just shook her head, the hint of a smile in her green eyes. “At ease, ‘recruits’. There is nothing in it for this ex-mercenary to turn you in. Let’s get this show on the road.”
So, he honestly didn’t know what to think of her. Physically speaking she was gorgeous. Long legs, pretty face, lean body, and the way she moved would do to drive any straight man mad. He shouldn’t exactly think that way, should he? She was years older than him and he was promised to his childhood friend – something that was still kind of weird to him. He loved Luna, sure, but not in that way. Considering her fighting he couldn’t help the satisfaction he felt at seeing the daemons on the other end of her lance instead of himself. He knew how they felt. And he felt so not guilty at all. As for her personality, it was really hard to judge. He rather kept listening instead of talking, leaving the conversation mainly to Ignis. He easily noted that she fit his sass, giving her own smug remarks without provoking a quarrel.
Noctis tried not to think about her too much but really, there was something about that woman that fascinated him. Not that he had much time to dwell on it. They were surrounded by solid stone and there was no way to quickly escape this tomb – which was exactly what that place was. Unfortunately, many of the skeletons seemed more interested in causing trouble than in the whole rest in peace idea. So they would lay them to rest in pieces instead.
The breathy groan of a Reaper was followed by the gurgling sound of a Flan rising from the ground. There was little time to actually think about it before the battle started. Blue and orange lightened the room as the prince dodged a Reaper’s scythe just to do two quick warps in a row, one giving him a nice distance, the other bringing him right back into the enemy, crushing bones and vibrating through his arm. His blade remained stuck between two ribs, so he just abandoned it, not even watching as it dissolved into blue shards while he summoned the Sword of the Mystic to block some skeleton’s slash.
The air loaded with energy that unleashed in a sharp sting of cold as Ignis casted an ice-spell against the mushy daemons, the sound of shots ricocheted through the ruins. Noctis could taste something quite similar to copper at the back of his throat, not blood but pure adrenaline making him hyperaware of his surroundings. And he didn’t like what he witnessed. The foes didn’t seem to lessen, instead more and more of the fiends filled the large room they had fallen into. But what really worried him was the quake shaking the whole room and making dust fall from the high ceiling. Something big was approaching them. And the prince doubted that he wanted to fight whatever that thing was.
He ignored Aranea’s cursing and Prompto’s complaints to fully concentrate on the task ahead. There was indeed an Iron Giant coming for them and he seemed keen on attacking Noct in particular. The greyish-black blade reflected the light of a Reaper’s scythe, casting an eerie glow across the room as it swung the enormous weapon over its head to bring it down in a slash that not even the strongest of men could hope to block. So the Chosen did the only thing he could, dodging the attack that had the sword caught in the ground right where he just had been.
Noctis was quick to react. While the daemon was still busy freeing his blade, he jumped onto it, balancing over the dull edge until he reached his mark and could land a hit with his Ancestor’s axe right onto the beast’s head. It was one of the rare moments Noctis was thankful Ignis had forced him to take acrobatic lessons. But there was no time to express that gratitude. His attack had been way less effective than he would have hoped and the daemon unfortunately managed to get his weapon free.
What happened afterwards was a blurry of movementss Noct couldn’t care to think about. They had been drilled into him until they had become as natural as breathing. So he wasn’t even sure what he was doing, he was just acting. Until he sensed a change in the air.
It wasn’t easy to describe. Something in the way his heartbeat was thrumming in his ears and the vibrations of the attack he had parried cursed through his sore arms. There was a tingling sensation in his scarred back where he sometimes felt as if some of the late Oracle’s healing magic still remained. The same sensation he felt those little times he had been to the crystal alongside his father. It was different from when he released his blades or even his whole arsenal. It felt rougher and more primal, a soaring, raging energy that had every hair on his body stand on end.
He never knew how he did it, it was a mere instinct as he somehow reached out to this power. For a split second he smelled ozone before time seemed to slow down and he was caught in the sensation of wild magic filling not only his whole body but his whole being, making him stumble over. He felt as if he would burst, forever caught in a raging current that threatened to rip him apart. He couldn’t hear, couldn’t see, couldn’t taste or smell. He could only feel and what he felt was overwhelming.
What seemed like a lifetime was no more than a second before his control and his vision returned to him just in time to witness a giant scepter of sorts impale the Iron Giant, cracking the floor and spreading lightening through every single foe inside the hall. They fell like peasants before their king, like sectaries before their saint they stumbled and were forced to their knees before laying to rest forevermore, pulled back into whatever unholy realm the creatures came from.
“So… guess the rumors are true.” Aranea didn’t even try to hide that even she was a tad bit out of breath. She had dealt some great deal of damage to their attackers too though, before Ramuh decided that maybe it wouldn’t be too stupid to keep their precious Chosen alive.
“I know I said it before…” Prompto panted, bracing himself on his knees. “And I am pretty sure I’ll say it again… but I’m glad the gods are on our side…” Ignis was already treating a slash on his upper arm while. “Indeed.” The advisor agreed with the blonde gunman.
They were given less than two minutes of rest before Aranea spoke up: “We should keep on moving. Considering our luck the Mythril is somewhere at the very end of this complex and I don’t really want to be in here when the sun rises.” Noctis could only agree. Once the sun rose they would most probably be locked in here and while daemons couldn’t trail in the sunlight there were countless shadows for them to exist inside those ruins.
The Commodore’s words proved to be right. Before they found the Mythril they reached a grand hall. It was beautiful to say the least. They had discovered that they were underneath the water. The light shining through it casted glittering shapes among the walls and floor, reflecting on Aranea’s armor and making her seem even more mysterious than she was to begin with. The wavering lines were disturbed by the shades of fishes swimming above them. But the most glorious – and at the same time most scary – thing that hall offered to see was the giant creature clinging to the far off wall, watching them to see if they dared enter its domain.
The Quetzalcoatl was a great four-legged creature. While its overall shape reminded of the dragons of ancient fairytales its body was covered in blue and whitish blue feathers. The wings were only partially feathered, the other part was leather. Its horns were glimmering, as were the strong, thornlike bones of the wings that reminded of corals on a reef. It looked like the perfect lovechild of water and air, in a way Noct couldn’t quite grasp. He tried, really, but all that came to his mind was graceful and beautiful. It was a shame that they seemingly had to battle and kill it.
It fought as glorious as it looked. Giant claws ripped open the stone as easily as a knife would cut through butter. Its teeth glistened like ivory daggers as it got dangerously close to his face. And lightening searing around it, rising from within the beast in an act of defense and offense. They had only just begun and Noctis already knew that things were going to get rough.
While the gods’ magic was an overwhelming mess the power of his ancestors was different. Softer, gentler, a tingling in his whole body that filled the air with a taste he couldn’t start to explain, but that triggered the most beautiful memories. Memories of his father’s gentle hand on his skinned knee, healing the bruise that was cause by his childish playfulness. But there was no time to dwell on those beautiful days in the gardens as silverish-blue glaives surrounded him. Enough playing around.
A growling shriek echoed through the dungeon as spectral blades impaled the beast. He was feeling the drain of the weapons on the energy he had accumulated over his fights but with his armiger active it at least didn’t eat away on his very life. He let go of the perfect control, unleashing all at once against the creature, the wavering silver lines of the water-filtered moonlight mixing with the crystalline hue of the glaives of old.
Yet that beast was not about to go down that easily. Instead it spread its glorious wings and took off. The ceiling was high, high enough for Aranea to use all her tricks and high enough for the Quetzalcoatl to move rather freely. Which was even more bothering than it had been on the ground. Ignis couldn’t reach that high and Prompto barely got the chance to shoot without risking to hit Noctis.
The prince was incredibly glad to have the ex-mercenary in their team. Unlike his regular companions she too could fight up in the sky which left bringing the beast down to the ground not to him alone for a change. And he had to admit they were a great team. While he charged the left wing she took the right, forcing the feathered beauty to stumble midair. It was that well trained routine again where time was not measured by passing seconds but by the way his lungs burned from exhaustion and how much his muscles tired.
Yet even within the way his brain shut off and his body took over he was not completely perfect. At the same time as the Quetzalcoatl started to fall he miscalculated an air-step, losing his magical footing. The ground approached with worrying speed and all he could do was to throw his weapon and warp to reduce the damage he would take to a bearable level.
Just as he manifested right where he had thrown his weapon he felt the wind knocked from his lungs. It was strange. That cracking sound he heard didn’t make sense. Until pain exploded in his chest and blood filled his mouth. He didn’t even have the wits to count the amount of broken ribs. Noctis stumbled. He was almost blind in pain as he tried to get away from the creature. He just needed a view seconds to take a curative. But he could hardly think straight enough to summon one up.
“No slacking off now.” The moment he fell Aranea was there, crouching down to next to him. As blackness tried to creep up on his vision he heard glass breaking and all of the sudden the pain ebbed away. “Thank you…” he uttered under his breath as the potion probably saved his life.
The prince would forever blame it on his near-death experience but before they could stand up he turned and swiftly pressed a kiss to Aranea’s lips, only understanding what he had done when he pulled away. The prince blushed all the way up to his ears. Yeah, alright he had been fascinated by her, but he hadn’t thought he would go this far. Not that it had been more than an innocent peck but still.
“Wouldn’t let you die on my shift.” The Dragoon stated, as if nothing had happened. Then she stood, pulling him up with her. When they turned it was only to see his friends kill the amazing foe that had almost finished him off.
All things considered it at least had been worth the trouble. Right there at the end of the hall they found what they were looking for. Mythril-ore, ready for the taking.
“That concludes our business here.” Ignis stated, calm as ever. Though Noctis was sure he would be fussing over him once they were at a haven or a motel. “Say, Commodore.” Prompto spoke up just to be interrupted by said woman. “Aranea.”
“You said the Empire uses daemons to make ‘weapons’?” He tensed at the mention of that. He had barely listened their conversations. He probably should have. “Listen, you’ve seen Magitek-Troopers right?” She said.
“MTs…” Noctis muttered under his breath. It went unheard as the woman continued. “They’re born from daemons, in a lab.” – “Born from… daemons…” He could see the horror in his friend’s eyes. The thought alone made unpleasat shivers run down his spine and had his scars tingle uncomfortably.
“Darkness is coming. If I were you, I’d watch my princely ass…. Uhm… kingly ass.”
Ever since their little trip with Aranea things had been a constant up and down. Their road-trip was far from over, there were weapons to be gained and they had decided on achieving all that were on Lucian ground before setting off to Altissia. They had to make a living too which had them run errands and go on hunts, some easier than others.
After Aranea had promised them more ‘special training’ and let them off at Lestallum he didn’t think he would see the Commodore again. Not that soon at last. But less than a week later she arrived as they fought some Iron Giants and quite literally saved their asses. From there on out it became a sort of routine. She would help them out in hard battles and sometimes even stay the night at their camp. If she did, he would be in for training in the morning, and sometimes a talk or two during breakfast or dinner. And though he shouldn’t admit it, whenever she left he was looking forward to her next appearance.
His friends had grown accustomed to it too. Prompto kept teasing him, having Gladiolus join in. And really, he had no idea why he still thought Ignis might help him. The advisor only ever topped their corny remarks. Eventually he gave up trying to deny what a blind man could see.
It was early in the morning. Too early, of course. He never liked getting up. Especially not with the first rays of sunlight. But it was one of the occasional nights Aranea had stayed at their camp. And she was a cruel, sadistic woman, waking him with the sun to train. Which gave him about half an hour afterwards before Gladio got up and decided that if he was up he could as well train with him too. Or he was lucky and Ignis had him help with breakfast.
It was that blissful period of 30 minutes where every muscle was sore but it was only Aranea and him. The guys were still asleep, and if they weren’t they at least pretended to be. So there they sat, next to each other, looking at the morning sun that still managed to paint the skies in hues of rosé and orange though it was already dissolving its kiss with the horizon.
They had kept a comfortable silence for a while before the gorgeous woman next to him spoke up: “Hey, Prince Charmless?”
“Hmm?” He was getting used to that nickname. It was still better than Gladio calling him princess.
“You know, I remember you stealing something from me.” Now he looked at her in shock. Stealing from her? He would have never done something like that. He might be wayward – sometimes – but he was not a thief. “But don’t worry. I’ll just take it back.”
Blue eyes widened in surprise and he only ever understood what was happening when he felt her soft lips against his. The kiss lasted a bit longer than the peck in the dungeon, but it held the same gentle curiosity. He was nervous as he returned the kiss and no doubt he could make any tomato jealous with the color his cheeks had. They were burning.
But if that was the punishment for thievery he might just have to steal another kiss from her.