Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once, there was magic. 

It existed still, however humanity did not recognise it as such. A coeurl could cast lightning, a morbol produce poison and a cactuar throw more needles than it actually had. 

Nevertheless, once there was magic, and now there wasn’t.

There were no ships sailing the skies, no carts drawing themselves, no means to communicate with people far away in an instant. There were no tinctures to vanish scars or ways to make new limbs for those in need of them. There was no architecture high enough to touch the sky, no platforms floating up and down to reach the top, no fires that never went out. 

It was all gone. Gone and forgotten, only to be remembered in barely recalled dreams and whispers.

Magic was gone.

Out of reach for humanity. A punishment for their own hubris, for their belief that they could be better than the Gods. That they dared to try and act on said belief. 

However now there were new whispers rising among the people. Whispers barely believed by even the desperate. 

Magic was coming back.

Chapter Text

Ardyn sat in the corner of the play room, pushing a few wooden blocks from left to right and back again. There was a heavy pout on his lips and he refused to let it go away. Felizitas was looking after his little brother, who was at the other side of the room, kicking his legs and rolling around the floor. His mama had gone away to talk to someone else about rocks - Ardyn couldn’t figure out what was so interesting about the rocks. 

He looked up only to see Felizitas looking at him. He did his best to imitate his father’s frown. Felizitas sighed and turned back to Citrus, cooing how well he was doing as he rolled from his back onto his stomach again. Ardyn did not understand what was so interesting about it. 

The tower of wooden blocks he had started to build rather absentmindedly toppled over in a noisy clatter. Ardyn suppressed a sniffle. He wished Izunia was here, but ever since their adventure she hadn’t been allowed into this room anymore. It was her punishment, papa had said, just like Ardyn wasn’t allowed to leave his room without an adult present. It was absolutely unfair. 

Seemingly without a reason Citrus started to cry. At once Felizitas picked the squirming baby up. 

“Oh no, little Ducus, what is wrong? Are you hungry? It is about time for lunch to be ready,” she said, gently rocking Somnus in her arms. 

He did not stop crying. Ardyn threw one of the wooden blocks. Felizitas gave him a reprimanding look. 

“Ardyn, please, behave,” she said. “When you were his age, you weren’t any better.”

Somehow Ardyn doubted that. Still, he followed the nanny and his little brother out of the room. He was getting hungry himself. It had already been ages since Severin had brought them all a little snack. 

Lunch was simple. Ardyn ate as many olives as he could before Felizitas took them away and pushed the still warm bread in front of him. The small loaf was filled with onions and meat. His little brother got milk and still continued to cry after that, so Ardyn simply followed Severin out of the room when he came to take the dishes and Felizitas was distracted. 

They were barely halfway towards the kitchen when Ardyn saw Izunia’s head peeking around the socle of a bust. His smile when he saw her was larger than it had been in days. 

“‘Zunia!” he called, running towards her at once. 

The large, fluffy cat answered with equally loud cries of her own. She jumped out of her corner of the atrium, meeting Ardyn halfway. Her head gently butted against his chin, though the weight of her body pressing against his nearly made the boy fall over. He giggled and slung his arms around her to keep his balance. 

“Missed you, ‘Zunia,” Ardyn mumbled into his friend’s orange fur. 

Izunia gave an answering miaow and started to lick Ardyn across his cheeks. He ducked his head and tried to push her away, but she was having none of it. 

“‘Zunia,” the boy complained. 

“Ducus Ardyn,” a voice called, startling the boy. He had forgotten about Severin. The servant looked at him, balancing the tray of dishes in his hands. “If you want to keep to your father’s command, please follow me.”

Ardyn scrunched up his nose, but took a step back from his friend to dig the fingers of his left hand into her fur. Together they followed the family servant into the kitchen. 

It was a busy place and Ardyn looked around in wonder. He hadn’t been allowed into the kitchen back home too often - not after Izunia had gotten into the fish. The room itself wasn’t very large, but it was hot and crowded. 

Three fires burned merrily and aside from Severin and Ardyn there were three people present: a man, a woman and a boy. As the house servant put down the dishes next to a huge stone basin filled with water, the boy stood up from where he had been tending to one of the fires to start scrubbing. The crown of his head barely reached Severin’s shoulder. 

“Severin! Come, sit down, you deserve a small break,” said the woman, her dress nearly vanishing under an undyed linen apron. 

She pressed a plate and a cup into his hands and pushed the man towards a small table crammed into a corner. Severin sat down after a token word of protest. Ardyn could hear his knees crack. 

“No animals in my kitchen!” the man called, giving Izunia the stink eye. 

Ardyn pressed closer to his friend and scowled right back. Usually, he had learned, the servants tended to back down, if they didn’t have orders from his parents, but this man simply glared harder and made a shooing motion with one hand. 

“Out!” he yelled loud enough for Ardyn to startle and for the boy doing the dishes to look up. 

With two quick steps the woman was next to Ardyn and pressed something into his free hand before gently herding him and Izunia out of the room with an apologetic smile and a wink. The air outside the kitchen was suddenly rather cold. 

“Where now, ‘Zunia?” the boy asked in a loud whisper. 

Izunia turned her large eyes towards him, blinking slowly. Ardyn blinked back. She started moving so quickly he nearly stumbled, and led him straight into the laundry room where they hunkered down in a woven basket big enough to fit the two of them. Finally Ardyn looked at what the woman from the kitchen had given him. It was a small pastry smelling of nuts and honey. Izunia stretched her neck and licked at it, before turning up her nose at the treat. Ardyn giggled and stuffed it in his mouth. It was delicious. 

“What game we play now?” he asked in a loud whisper, so no adult would hear him.

A loud purr was his answer. Izunia pressed her weight against him until they lay curled around each other in the large basket, hidden from view. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but Izunia’s fur was soft and her steady purr was making Ardyn sleepy. He yawned. 

“Sleepy time, ‘Zunia,” he mumbled, his eyes growing heavy. “Ni ni.”

Ardyn was asleep within moments. 

He stood in a sea of fog, unable to see much of anything. The smell of wet grass reached his nose in a gentle, but persistent wave. His toes dug into soft earth and grass. Somewhere it sounded like water was bubbling merrily over stones in a river bed. 

Ardyn blinked slowly. The image of shifting grey did not change. Where was he? Was this another adventure? Where was Izunia? Should he go looking for his mama?

A whisper in the distance made him startle and turn around. There was nothing but more fog. Had he imagined it? Tears pricked hot in his eyes. He wanted to go home. Maybe his papa would find him, if he wished for it strong enough. 

The whisper came back again. However this time it did not stay the silky soft murmur of hundreds of voices overlapping with each other. Instead, a very distinct and familiar sound reached Ardyn’s ears: the loud miaows of a cat. 

“‘Zunia!”

Without a second thought Ardyn ran through the fog towards the sound. He had taken barely a handful of steps when, suddenly, the fog was gone.

The sky stretched out above him, blacker than Ardyn had ever seen it, but that did not matter because the stars - oh the stars. Ardyn had barely noticed that he had stopped moving to look up, utterly transfixed. There were so many stars that the all consuming blackness between them was barely visible. Had there always been so many of them? Not all of them were simply white. Some bore colour. From red to blue to green to yellow, they formed colourful clusters that looked like clouds. 

Every single star in the sky glowed and winked merrily, but still there was no light. It was so dark Ardyn could not see his hand as he lifted it up until it blotted out a part of the stars. He could not see the grass under his feet or the large plain he stood upon, but somehow, through ancient instincts humanity had long forgotten, he knew it was there, knew what it looked like and was not afraid. 

Another miaow, loud and insistent and right next to him, made Ardyn look away from the stars. The moment he did, he already missed looking at their enchanting tapestry. An ache he did not understand, settled deep into his chest. 

“‘Zunia!” he called again.

She sat there, right within reach, looking at him like he was the most important thing to her. It made the achy feeling in his chest go away and replaced it with a fond warmth. Her ears flicked. Tiny, glowing sparks flew up like motes of dust and followed the movement. Ardyn watched, fascinated. 

“You glow!” he said, awe audible in his voice. “I glow, too?”

“Mrrp.”

Izunia stood up and stretched, each movement made more tiny, glowing sparks flow up and settle down. She walked around him, rubbing her head and side against him, leaving glowing motes sticking to his clothes. Every single step she took sounded like the soft ringing of a bell. 

Ardyn clapped his hands in joy, giggling. He had always known his best friend was special. One tiny hand reached out and sank into her soft orange furr. The sparks made it look like there was a fire burning within it. It felt warm and tingly. 

“‘Zunia? Where are we?” he asked.

In way of an answer she pressed her head against his jaw before she began to guide him over the grassy plain he knew was there but couldn’t really see. Ardyn raised his head to look at the stars, knowing Izunia would not let him fall. 

They walked for a long time. At least it felt that way to Ardyn, though his legs did not tire like they usually would. Izunia’s steps were the only thing he could hear. The bells were a sweet, silvery sound. He turned away from the stars to look at her, his best friend - and maybe spirit? His papa had told him a story once about spirits living in trees. Maybe this one had turned into a cat for him? In the end, Izunia was his friend and it did not matter.

The next time he looked up at the sky, the moon was looking back at him. It was bigger than Ardyn had ever seen it, silvery and round, with a golden hue he could only see because it was so big. It felt like his mother was watching him.

He waved at it. 

There was light now, thanks to the moon. It made something within Ardyn weep with joy and sorrow in equal measure. Tears gathered in his eyes and fell in big, fat drops down his cheeks. Hiccuping, he brushed them away with his free hand.

Some of the stars were gone, those clustered in colourful clouds. In exchange he could now see something other than Izunia. There was a horizon in the far, far distance, it was entirely flat. The grass was nothing more than a grey mass, but it was visible nonetheless. A silvery band snaked through it, shining like the moon. A river. 

Ardyn wanted to walk towards it, however Izunia pulled him away rather insistently. He pouted, but followed her. 

“When are we there?” he could not help but ask.

It had been such a long, long time since they had started walking. He felt neither tired nor hungry, nor thirsty, but still. How much farther did they have to go?

Izunia did not answer. She simply guided him along a path only she knew about until a bright, blinding light started to dye the horizon a startling golden red. It was a shock to see it after going without for so long. He started to cry again. 

Slowly the sun rose into the sky, its watchful gaze turning towards Ardyn and Izunia. They had stopped and watched the colourful spectacle. The light tingled his skin, making a warm feeling settle into his stomach. Like he had been drinking a cup of warm milk sweetened with honey. 

Somewhere a bell tolled, deep and sorrowful. 

And

Ardyn woke up.

It was dark when he opened his eyes. The feeling of soft fur under his fingers and the press of a familiar weight against and over him, were the only reasons he did not start struggling. Izunia was here and fast asleep, so there was no reason to worry. She was always grumpy when woken up, so Ardyn did his best to be quiet.

A bit of careful wiggling and an outstretched hand told him that someone must have thrown a sheet on top of the basket they were in. Whoever it had been, they mustn’t have seen the two curled up inside, otherwise Ardyn would have been brought back to Felizitas. 

The memories of the dream he had had were already fading, but he could still remember that it had been dark, that he had been unable to really see anything. Ardyn did not want to be in the dark right now, but he could not move to push the sheet away because of Izunia. He wanted there to be light enough to see. 

Ardyn whimpered and screwed his eyes shut. One of Izunia’s ears flicked against his cheek. He wanted there to be light. He wanted it to not be dark. His chest felt ready to burst open with an unfamiliar pressure. He choked down a breath and on his nex, stuttering exhale there flickered something behind his eyelids. 

It was Izunia purring that got him to open his eyes again. He blinked.

There was light now.

He blinked again, gaze falling to the hand buried in his friend’s fur. It was glowing. For a long second he stared at it with large eyes, then he jerked upright, ignoring Izunia’s protesting jowl. 

Scrambling to get up, Ardyn tripped over the edge of the basket, nearly falling down, and got himself tangled in the linen sheet which had covered him and Izunia. He could barely see, but that was alright. He barrelled through the door and into the atrium as fast as his legs could carry him. 

“Mama!” he called on top of his lungs. “Mama!”

Frantic steps sounded from somewhere inside the house. It did not take long for Minerva to come sprinting down the stairs, hitting her upper arm on the corner. Her hair was falling out of her carefully styled updo and she had hiked her skirts up to her knees for better mobility. 

“Ardyn! By the Gods, Ardyn! Where have you been?”

The moment Ardyn was within her reach, she fell down on her knees and wrapped him in a tight hug. He could feel his mother tremble against him.

“Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me? I was so worried something had happened to you,” she said in a tone of voice Ardyn could not identify. 

“Sorry, mama,” he mumbled against her shoulder. 

Then he leaned away as far as Minerva would let him, to shove his hand into her face, the linen sheet pooling around him. 

“Mama, look! I glow!”

“I… see,” she said. 

Ardyn pouted. This was not the reaction he had expected. He looked down only to notice that his whole body was glowing. An audible sound of awe tumbled out of his mouth. 

“I a star,” he said. 

His mother pressed her lips together in a way that looked like a smile but also kind of not. Ardyn tilted his head. Worry was starting to stir. 

“Mama okay?”

Minerva released a deep breath. Her next smile was much more normal. Ardyn relaxed. 

“Yes, little spark, I am okay. Especially now that I know where you are.”

At those words she cuddled him close again. Ardyn giggled. Minerva bundled him into the sheet pooling around him until he was nearly entirely covered. 

“Can you promise me something, Ardyn?” she asked, tone and eyes serious.

He nodded, wordlessly slinging his arms around her neck as she picked him up.

“Promise me you won’t show your little trick to anyone outside this house, Ardyn. It is important. Bad people could come otherwise.”

The boy’s eyes grew large in horror. The glow of his skin began to reduce almost immediately. He could still remember the bad man in the backyard who had grabbed him. It had been so, so scary. 

“I promise,” he said.