No one rested. No one spoke. The three sat and stared in silence for an hour, maybe two. There could be no question, the man sharing this final campfire with them had returned. Still Noctis, but changed; he'd aged, and not just in years.

No matter how he tried, Prompto could not raise his eyes, he'd seen enough worry and concerns over the previous ten years in the faces of those he'd met, but none with the immensity of sadness carried by his friend. His hair had greyed , fine lines carved an unfamiliar weariness contrary to Prompto's memory.

The two watched as Ignis' meticulous movements cleared the counter from the remnants of dinner. A soft cough meant to grab Noct's attention pulled his focus to Ignis before Noctis settled into the couch. If the prince intended his friend to join them, now was the time to ask. "So, Prompto."

"So . . . Noct." The grin widening on Prompto's face quickly turned to laughter. Had Ignis not sighed in annoyance, the prince likely would have joined in.

"You're coming with us, right?" His voice hopeful, Noctis waited for Prompto's reply.

Eyes widening, Prompto's jaw followed suit, dropping in surprise. "Wait. Me? With you? But . . . but I'm not like Ignis or Gladio."

"Nope. But you're my friend, and . . . don't you want to come along?" Noct ignored the pointed stare from Ignis. They'd discussed the reasons to include Prompto, and the prince strayed almost immediately from Ignis' advice. "You're always talking about seeing what's out beyond the wall. Think about it. Think of all the pictures you could take."

"Yeah," his wistful tone revealed Noct had found the right words, "there's so much I want to see." Shifting in his chair Prompto's enthusiasm ignited. "So, you mean it? I can really go?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Chasing away the memory, Prompto shifted his attention to the fire, apprehension filling the silence. He couldn't understand why Noct's return saddened him. The King's hands disturbed him most. When their comfortable teasing mixed with laughter and sharing of stories had ended, Noctis retreated within. Hands clasped tight, thumb rubbing against thumb and forefinger, grinding until Noctis would switch hands and repeat the motions opposite from the other. Prompto believed one thing, whatever troubled Noct, would test them all.

He searched for a story, something light, something funny and finding none angrily wiped a stray tear gathering in his eye, before it threatened to fall.

_

Noct sighed yet again , Ignis thought, waiting a few more moments before reminding His Majesty of their readiness to lend an ear or plan the assault. Even without his sight, he read the discomfort and unease. Sighs had never been rare through the years, often the only audible sign of the prince's discomfort.

Sitting at the breakfast bar, Ignis checked his lists of what they would need packed and prepared. "Pity everything we will need can't be carried like weapons," he mumbled. Calling upon their gear to appear would guarantee nothing left behind in the short time to prepare. "Noct. Rather than sighing to get my attention, it might be easier if you shared what has you so distressed."

"Talking about stuff," Noctis said, "right -because I do that so well."

Even Ignis understood the dilemma facing Noct. An arranged marriage, traveling outside the Crown City, and knowing upon his return, the prince stood even closer to the throne of Lucis; even though Niflheim orchestrated the path, Noctis would face a future he'd not yet planned to entertain.

Gathering his papers to slip inside a folio, Ignis swiveled around on the stool. "The Marshall will help Prompto, a bit of a crash course, I'm afraid, but he will join us when we leave for Altissia." Seeing no change in the prince's expression, Ignis wondered if he'd misread the situation.

"It's not that. I don't see why Prompto has to go through anything, I invited him." Gripping the back of his neck and grumbling as he leaned forward, Noctis continued. "Why does everything have to be like this?"

The normal response to one of Noct's vague and leading questions was to try to drag the truth out in a series of more direct questions. Ignis decided another tactic might be appropriate for the situation. "This isn't about Prompto."

Shaking his head, Noctis fell back against the cushion. "What do I say? Hey Luna, sorry about the Empire and all that, are you ready to get married?"

Ignis understood. "The marriage is an arrangement in accordance with the peace. I believe we can safely assume the Lady Lunafreya well knows of the circumstances."

"It's been so long. I'm not even sure what to say."

Ignis stood, grabbing his briefcase. "Then may I suggest an appropriate greeting- hello always seems to work best no matter the situation."

Chastising himself for not always understanding the difficulties facing Noct, Ignis sought the cleansing warmth from the campfire, turning his face away from Noct's chair next to his. He'd heard the feigned laughter since the return, wondering what lay beneath the surface, hiding. Ignis searched for the perfect words. Every opening seemed more contrived than the last, mechanical and unfeeling when what Ignis wanted to do most was offer support. Noct's silent melancholy had enveloped them, and Ignis hoped to lead him back. "Noct. You're not alone. Where you lead, I will follow."

Prompto and Gladio expressed them same, but it was Gladio who spoke with the most conviction. "No matter what happens, I'll be there-right next to you." Clasping his hand in a fist to underline his words, Gladio met Noct's weary eyes.

Through an unsteady exhale, Noctis found his voice. "Not this time, Gladio."

"Never been any different and I'm not backing down now."

Ignis pushed past Noct, pointing to the chair near the elevated bed. "Sit there, please." Turning to Gladio, Ignis asked several questions, his voice low.

"I'm fine, Iggy. Get him home," Gladio said, "I'll talk to Cor and Monica. This is nothing."

The physician pulled Gladio's face forward, removing the bloody towel. "You're lucky. We might be able to lessen the possibility of a scar, we have a healer if you like."

"Hey what do you think, guys? A badass scar. Leave it." Gladio's laugh did nothing to lighten the somber mood. "Come on, I'm fine. It's a scratch." The concern from Ignis and Noct coaxed a long groan. He'd have to convince them both before they would leave, asking the doctor to step outside to give them the room.

Ignis followed, closing the door for privacy. "I've already contacted Monica to report an incident had occurred, but explained his Highness is well and there was no cause for alarm. Are you sure you want to let this go?"

"Yea. We're letting this go."

Noctis, his face long and pale shook his head. "It's my fault." The man on the stairwell had been drunk, shouting at Noct claiming he didn't deserve to be happy. When he'd pulled the knife, Gladio's quick reflexes and protective nature prevented a tragedy at the expense of his face. "You could have. . . I'm sorry."

Brow furrowed, the scowl on Gladio's face stressed his anger. "Listen to me." He said, shifting off the bed to stand before the prince. "This is my choice, you hear me? I'd do it again, even if I knew what was coming." He placed his hands on Noctis' shoulders, his expression softening. "No matter what you face in life, remember, I will always stand at your side."

There could be no more delays, Noctis owed them the truth. "All right." He nodded, willing the words to come. "You know Ardyn is the one controlling all this- well, there's a way to stop him."

"Now we're talking," Gladio clapped his hands together, "keep going."

A frustrated laugh threatened to release Noctis' full irritation; hands clasped tight he exhaled loudly before speaking again. "The thing is," he paused, unsure how to explain, "ten years ago, I didn't understand, but now?"

Ten years prior

Gather strength, O Chosen. The fate of this world falls to the King of Kings; his Providence consecrated in the divine Light of the Crystal. So it is ordained. . .the revelation of Bahamut.

The ethereal light high above Bahamut illuminated the vastness around him. No end, no beginning, just existence. Colored wisps of light shimmered in and out of Noct's vision, giving no clues to his location. Looking behind him, Noctis wondered what happened to the others.

"Where are my friends? Are they," unable to finish his thought, his heart pounded at the thought of their loss.

They stand against the darkness and abide in hope, sustained in faith unfaltering that their King shall arise and bring deliverance.

His first question asked, Noctis wondered how the sight of Bahamut- this armor-clad god, his immense hand supporting Noctis- hadn't frightened him. The lightness of his heart and mind within this place a mystery. "What is this place?"

You rest within the heart of the Crystal, wherein lies the soul of the star and it is within this place that the King will gain his power to fulfill his calling. By the covenants awakened, the Six have seen the coming of the prophesied hour; a time when the Crystal shall have shed the entirety of its Light unto the ring. Only then once the sacred ring is replete, can the True King complete his Ascension. And only by the True King's hand can the Immortal Accursed be banished, and the Light restored to this world. Only the True King, chosen by the Crystal and guarded by his forebears can end the Accursed's madness.

"Ardyn," he muttered. Thinking on Bahamut's words, Noctis' eyes widened, despite a thought growing the compulsion to ask outweighed fear of the response. "And what exactly is Providence?"

It is the sole means of ending the immortal Accursed. A power greater than even that of the Six, purifying all by the light of the Crystal and the glaives of rulers past. Only at the throne can the Chosen receive it, and only at the cost of a life–his own.

Denial and anger pulled the three to their feet. Gladio's face twisted in rage. "The hell? No!"

The King pushed up from his chair, his motion to stand heavy and deliberate. "Gladio. There is no other way."

The youngest of the three grabbed his head and paced behind his chair. "No. No. There has to be another way. Ignis? You can find one! There has to be! Noct . . .you can't. Don't you see?"

Eyes welling with tears, Noctis' calm steps and outstretched hands reached out to Prompto. "I wish. . . there were." Pulling away, Prompto turned, his shoulders twitched unable to stop the flood of emotion.

Only Ignis stood, his expression blank. "Then," his voice cracked, causing a deep inhale to steady himself, "I shall walk with you until," another pause, his resolve weakening with each word until the last words fell in a whisper, "until it is time, my King."

Words failed. Noctis didn't know what to say. "Ignis."

Steeled once more, it was Ignis who took control. "This is the chosen path of the King. We serve at His discretion." His voice softened, "we would do well to rest."

It fell to Gladio, clasping a strong hand on Prompto's shoulder, "Iggy's right." Nodding, Prompto returned to his chair.

Instead of doing the same, Gladio's confident strides carried him to stand before Noctis. "If we find another path, then we'll take it, but I'm in. No matter what."

"Thank you, Gladio."

Once more the silence descended, the three still stunned. Noctis, for his part, struggled to find a way to tell each of them how they had filled his life and meant so much.

"The four of us around a campfire, how long has it been?" Noctis asked, despite the incredulous looks from Prompto and Gladio, this was the best way Noct could share what he felt.

Ignis made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. "An eternity."

Another frustrating silence covered them, Noctis' nerve dwindling. "So . . .yeah." He opened and closed his mouth, unable to find words, stumbling through his speech. "I. . .um."

Looking out into the deep darkness, Gladio couldn't wait for Noctis to pull his thoughts together. "Out with it."

Noctis balled his hands into fists, "I just," he began, "dammit. The hell is this so hard?" He sat back, looking to each of them. "I've made my peace, knowing this is it." Someone gasped, Noctis unsure who, and yet he continued. "Still . . .and seeing you here now?" His lips quivered, all pretenses dissolved, his tears falling free without restraint, his words trailing off in his admission. "It's more than I can take."

Head in his heads, Prompto spoke first. "You're damn right it is."

Gladio turned away, hiding the tracks of tears, forcing his will to remain in control. "You spit it out." He hadn't meant to sound as harsh. Despite his duty, his promises and his convictions, if this was their last campfire, the time to speak was now.

Ignis, hearing the edge to Gladio's voice, sought to reassure. "Noct. It's good to hear."

In that moment Noctis found the words, a reminder of the bond shared, as Cid had spoken to all of them many years prior. Remember, those ain't your bodyguards, they're your brothers .