The Dawn of the Future

by Jun Eishima

  　If they had indeed waited all these years, then it was crucial that Noctis hurry to find and rejoin them. They would fight side by side as brothers once again, and this time, Noctis would be ready to keep them safe. He would not only save his retainers and Lunafreya―he would see dawn returned to the world for all. Not one life more would be lost.

  　Noctis couldn’t bear the thought of any more deaths. And Lunafreya . . . Never again would she have to offer up her own life for the sake of others, her duties as Oracle be damned.

  　“No longer will I abide a world in which there is such sacrifice,” he vowed.

  　The writings of the notebook did not detail what Lunafreya’s new calling might entail, but if that, too, involved her sacrificing her life, he would do anything and everything to prevent it. From now on, Noctis would see an end to all such things.

  　On the final page, he found written, Waiting for you at the Citadel.

  　A few pages earlier, there had been another passage that drew his attention. Lunafreya again mentioned the inhuman power she’d been given―a strength not meant for mortal hands―as well as her hesitation to use it. What did she mean? What was this power of which she wrote?

  　Thinking to send Umbra with that question, he found an empty space in which to write . . . then realized he had no pen at hand.

  　“Just my luck,” he sighed, then realized that there was no need to write. They’d see each other soon. Noctis had his own business at the Citadel.

  　“Thanks, Umbra,” he told the dog. “I’ll give this back to Luna myself.”

  　Umbra gave a single bark in response, signaling his understanding. After ruffling the thick fur around the dog’s neck again, Noctis urged Umbra aboard the vessel and then hopped on himself.

  When they pulled up alongside the pier at Galdin and disembarked, Noctis couldn’t help but voice his surprise aloud.

  　“They really are all gone.”

  　Not a soul was in sight. In the past, Galdin Quay had been a resort, bustling at all hours with all sorts of people come to enjoy a moment’s respite from the daily grind. During the daytime, the blues of the sea and sky shone so intensely they were almost blinding. At night, dozens of lights lined the walkways and hung from the ceilings to keep the dark ever at bay. It was a place bright to both eyes and spirit.

  　Now not a single light was lit. Inky darkness covered everything. The pier stood lonely in the water, no longer host to vacationers enjoying casual spells of fishing. As man and dog walked along its planks, the only sound was of their own footfalls.

  　The instant Noctis had emerged from the stone corridors of Angelgard and observed the pervasive darkness that was not night, he’d suspected this world would be far different from the one he remembered. Lunafreya’s account, too, had given warning: uninhabited save for Lestallum.

  　He’d grasped the concept intellectually, yet the reality still took him by surprise. The complete absence of people at Galdin Quay left him feeling as if perhaps everyone in the world had vanished, and now he alone was left. Even when he tried to reassure himself that this was not the case, unease still hung heavy upon him. Noctis heard nothing from the world aside from the rolling surf.

  　Then, without warning, Umbra was barking. Not a hostile bark, warning of danger, but a bark of recognition. Someone friendly was approaching.

  　“Welcome back, Your Majesty.”

  　Words spoken aloud. A human voice other than his own. Noctis had to pause to be certain he’d not imagined it. He looked in the direction of the sound and could just make out someone running toward him.

  　“I’m not wrong, am I? You are the king, right?”

  　The speaker appeared to be a young woman about twenty years of age, more or less. A shotgun was strapped to her back, and Noctis presumed her to be carrying a variety of other armaments: as she drew near, he heard the clinking of a great deal of metal.

  　“Huh,” the woman added. “You’re a lot more handsome than I would have expected.”

  　She stared at him without any hint of reserve. Noctis began to wonder if she might not be so unknown to him after all.

  　“And you might be . . . ?” he ventured.

  　“My name’s Sol.”

  　His hunch proved correct. So this was the companion of whom Lunafreya had written. The walking armory who was good at cards and bad at cooking.

  　“I was wondering how much longer you were going to keep me waiting,” she said.

  　“You’ve been waiting here for a while?” Noctis asked.

  　He could see that it would take more than a few daemons to faze the young woman, yet it was still hard to fathom anyone waiting long in a place so desolate and devoid of all other souls. Clearly, Galdin was no longer any manner of haven.

  　“Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I was here twenty-four/seven. But I’ve been coming by two or three times a day to check on the place.”

  　She grinned. “Guess I ended up pretty lucky with the timing.”

  　But the smile lingered only for a moment. Sol’s next words were solemn.

  　“There’s something you need to know,” she began. “Luna’s alive.”

  　Had he heard it from Sol’s lips before reading the notebook, it would have been too much to take in. Noctis would have been at a loss for words and quite likely unwilling to believe, his logical mind dismissing the possibility outright. It was fortunate, therefore, that Umbra had reached him first, bearing that small but incontrovertible bit of proof.

  　“I know.”

  　“You do?” Sol’s surprise was apparent.

  　And well should she be surprised. Noctis and Lunafreya had never told anyone else of their quiet correspondence. There had been no explicit promise between the pair to keep the notebook and its contents secret, but as the messages continued, it naturally began to feel like something private, a matter shared only between the two young lovers and Umbra. If anyone else had been aware of it, perhaps Gentiana was the only one, but even of that Noctis wasn’t certain.

  　“Talk about a letdown,” Sol mumbled. “I thought you’d be blown away by the news.”

  　“Sorry to disappoint you.”

  　“Nothing gets past the king, huh?” she said. Then, “Anyway, we got bigger fish to fry. Come on. Car’s this way.”

  　Noctis recalled the location of the parking lot. He did not need Sol to lead the way but followed nonetheless. They passed through the quay’s main building and crossed the narrow boardwalk, through drab surroundings of endless gray. The vibrant hues Noctis remembered of Galdin were nowhere to be found.

  　As they crossed from boardwalk to shore, Sol said, “You sure are trusting.”

  　“Why wouldn’t I be?” Noctis responded, perplexed by the comment.

  　Sol made a face, equally perplexed. “I mean, you don’t even know me. You’ve never seen me before in your life.”

  　“That doesn’t mean I have any reason to doubt you. You’re a friend of Luna’s, aren’t you?” To Noctis, that alone seemed reason enough to trust her. “Then, I believe you’re here to help me.”

  　At some point along the way, he realized Umbra was no longer with them. The dog seemed to have run off or vanished, as if his task was specifically to ensure Noctis’s safe rendezvous with Sol, and now that his task was fulfilled, he was free to return to wherever it was he’d come from. It occurred to Noctis that the timing was too perfect to be a coincidence, and that was exactly why Umbra had come along on the vessel.

  　Sol began to speak but was interrupted by her smartphone. The ringtone was a familiar trill. For an instant, it had Noctis remembering an earlier time.

  　“Oh come on!” Sol was saying on the phone. “Your timing is almost creepy. How do you always seem to know right when stuff happens?”

  　Sol flicked her eyes at Noctis. Once more, Noctis felt a premonition about who was reaching out.

  　“That’s right. I’m with him now,” Sol said. “Yo
u wanna have a word with him?”

  　There could be no doubt now. Ignis, Gladio, or Prompto. So which of the three was holding the phone? Noctis felt certain it had to be one of them, but he couldn’t make out the voice at the other end of the line.

  　“Huh? Oh. Yeah. We’ll be there soon,” Sol said, then breathed a small sigh as she slipped the phone back into her pocket.

  　“Who was that?” Noctis asked.

  　“Gladio. Says he’s got some visitors, so he can’t stay on the phone long. But they’re near Hammerhead. We can meet up with them there.” Sol added, “By ‘visitors,’ he meant they’ve got some daemons to take care of.”

  　Noctis gave a small laugh. What a Gladio way to put it. He envisioned his sworn Shield in battle, the man’s greatsword arcing effortlessly through the air. Then an unpleasant thought struck.

  　“Are all three of them okay?” Noctis asked.

  　Prompto would be at a considerable disadvantage in this new era of darkness, with his strong preference for guns. And if Ignis had not regained his sight, survival in a world overrun with daemons would be no easy feat.

  　What if one of them has . . . ?

  　Sol’s interruption was merciful. “Of course they are. Could anything kill those three?” she laughed. “Prompto spends most of his time around Hammerhead, trying to impress Cindy. He helps out whenever she needs a little muscle on the road. Ignis hunts, too. Says if anything, he’s more used to the darkness than we are.”

  　It seemed clear that Sol was quite close with all three.

  　“They’re gonna be real glad to see you. Not just your retainers, either. Everyone’s been anxious for the king to return.”

  　So they’d been waiting after all. For ten long years. Everyone in the world had carried on, believing that this day and this hour would come.

  　“We oughta hurry, too,” Sol said. “Come on, jump in.”

  　Noctis slid into the passenger seat at her urging. No sooner was his door closed than Sol had the vehicle in motion.

  As Sol drove, she related the story of her encounter with Lunafreya and their first few days together.

  　“There I am, cruising down the highway on my bike, and out of nowhere this woman in white rolls right out onto the road.”

  　“She rolled out onto the road?”

  　“I know, right? Figure she probably slipped off an embankment up above. She was in a real hurry.” When Sol had slammed on the brakes, Lunafreya had jumped right into the sidecar without a word.

  　“She was being chased,” Sol recounted, almost casually. “Apparently, the thing had been after her for a while. But that bike’s an antique, y’know? Doesn’t get the kind of speed you need to outrun a determined daemon. ’Specially not if you’re lugging around extra weight. So I make a point of mentioning it to Luna―as a joke, right?―and guess what she does next.”

  　“No idea.”

  　“She goes, ‘Right. What should I dump?’ and flings the bag with all my food in it out onto the road.”

  　Noctis snorted, at which Sol griped, “It was not funny. Food isn’t easy to come by out in the wastelands. I was so mad I was fightin’ back tears. The next day, we had to go back and pick it all up.”

  　Sol began to talk about what a pain it had been, how they’d crawled around in the darkness on their hands and knees, picking up cans one by one. As she recounted the details, she mimicked their actions, stooping low and reaching her arms out to swipe up imaginary cans, not seeming to care that in reality, she was behind the wheel of a moving vehicle. According to Sol, Lunafreya had been much better at finding the cans.

  　“That was pretty much how it always went, right from the start. Luna was full of surprises. Same name as the dead Oracle. Then she tells me she is the dead Oracle. And then she turns out to be crazy strong, even though she’s got that dainty little princess figure.”

  　“What do you mean by ‘crazy strong’?”

  　Lunafreya had mentioned in the journal entries that she was battling daemons alongside Sol. Noctis assumed she would’ve handled herself well enough given her training, but he wouldn’t have expected this “walking armory” to describe the Oracle as an outlier in terms of physical strength.

  　“The way she fights, y’know?” Sol responded. “Packs a real punch. Terrible at cards, though. Oh, but there was this other game we played, and she was unbelievable at that one. Five Finger Fillet. You ever heard of it?”

  　Noctis had. “The game where you stab a knife between your fingers?”

  　It involved spreading one hand palm down against a table, then using the other hand to stab a blade down into the spaces between fingers, moving back and forth as quickly as possible. He’d played it with the guys on a road a few times. Ignis hadn’t approved.

  　“It was so frustrating,” Sol continued. “She claimed it was her first time, but she was going faster than me! Apparently, her brother was real good at it. She said she was just copying what she’d seen him do.”

  　Noctis was surprised to hear that Ravus had played the game. It seemed the man had another side Noctis had never seen, far removed from the stiff, unapproachable high commander they’d encountered at Aracheole. Maybe Ravus was more easygoing in the presence of those he was close to. Or maybe he’d been another person entirely, before his mother died.

  　Sol kept on talking. “But the thing that really floored me was when Luna said she was gonna face off against Ardyn. Claimed it was her ‘calling’ ever since she came back to life.”

  　Noctis turned involuntarily to look at Sol. “Did she really say that?”

  　The words gave Noctis a start; for a moment, he thought he must have misheard. Was that truly the new calling that Lunafreya had written about? How could she be the one destined to stop Ardyn? That was the True King’s duty, bestowed upon him by the Draconian, inside the Crystal.

  　At Noctis’s evident disbelief, Sol scrunched up her nose. “Please. Couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.”

  　“Sorry. It just caught me off guard.”

  　“Guess I can’t blame you. I felt the same way. Told Luna that was a joke if I’ve ever heard one.”

  　It was strange, though. Nowhere in the notebook had Lunafreya clearly spelled out what her new calling was, and she made no mention of going after Ardyn’s life. If anything, she seemed to be suggesting the opposite, writing that she hoped to speak with Ardyn. Her message on the final page also told of the encounter with the soul of the first Oracle at Ralmuell, and of her plea to deliver Ardyn from his suffering.

  　He recalled the entry’s words:

  　I imagine how painful it must be for you to think back on what Ardyn has done, but I beg for your understanding. I would attempt to speak with him. I think that perhaps . . . No, now is not the time. I shall explain in detail when we are reunited. Waiting for you at the Citadel.

  　And there was the question of why Lunafreya was approaching Ardyn at all. This was the man who had stabbed her at the altar in Altissia. Though the covenants she’d forged had already worn her life down to a thin edge, Ardyn had delivered the killing blow. Yet her words seemed to indicate an honest desire to communicate with him, rather than to seek revenge. Something pivotal must have happened for her feel that way.

  　If Sol’s claim was correct and Lunafreya had indeed been called to kill Ardyn, the notebook’s message was all the more troubling. It suggested that Lunafreya had turned her back on the gods’ will. For one who had always lived a life of prayer and dedication to the gods, such a decision would not have been made lightly.

  　In the Crystal, Noctis had learned that the Ring of the Lucii provided the sole means to destroy the Immortal Accursed. Lunafreya wasn’t in possession of the ring and neither was she a descendant of the Lucis Caelum line, able to wield it. He could see no logic in sending her to confront Ardyn. Why would the Six call on her to do so? Why send two people for a job that required one?

  　He then remembered ano
ther passage from the notebook, where Luna had mentioned the new, inhuman power she found herself possessing, as well as the disquiet it invited.

  　“Tell me,” he asked Sol, “did Luna mention any sort of . . . new power she was able to use?”

  　He intentionally omitted the word “inhuman.” Whatever this power was, he was reluctant to describe it the way Lunafreya had.

  　Sol stared straight ahead and answered stiffly. “Yeah. She can absorb the scourge.”

  　The breath caught in Noctis’s throat. There was only one other person who possessed power like that. And the Crystal had revealed the tragedy it had drawn down on him two thousand years ago.

  　“She claimed one of the gods gave it to her so she’d be able to face Ardyn.”

  　“Do you know which god? Was it the Draconian?”

  　“I dunno. She never said.”

  　Regardless of the source, Noctis wanted to know why Lunafreya had been given the power to draw the Starscourge. And why had she been commanded to kill the Accursed with the very same capability he possessed?

  　There was also the fact that Lunafreya was worried about using this ability. As Noctis understood it, the power would allow her to absorb the scourge but not to purge it. Each time she did so, the menace to which she was host would surge in strength. The Crystal’s memories had made Ardyn’s agony clear. To think of Lunafreya having to endure the same was intolerable. How could the gods do such a thing? Responsibility for killing Ardyn fell on the shoulders of the True King. Why drag Lunafreya into the equation?

  　“How much do you know about it?” Sol asked.

  　“About Luna’s power? I guess I’ve got a pretty solid understanding.”

  　As solid an understanding as anyone could have. He’d witnessed every detail of Ardyn’s suffering two thousand years ago. Perhaps Noctis had already seen more of what would happen to Lunafreya than she had yet discovered for herself.