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The Chance of A Future

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“It's time.” Ignis' quiet voice pierced the silence of the camp, and three of his companions stood.

Together, the four of them stepped forward, leaving the camp behind to stand on the edge of the cliff, overlooking their beloved city. The night sky was beginning to brighten, stars disappearing in the paling blue. Beyond the walls of the city, a glow could be seen.

From the camp, Cor Leonis watched on in mild confusion as the four teenagers took their places. Prompto stood to Noct's right, Ignis to his left and Gladio stood behind, between Noct and Prompto. The Marshal watched as their arms wound around each other, Gladio's hands resting on Noct's and Prompto's shoulders.

“Isn't that a sight to see.” Ignis spoke again, voice solemn. The others agreed with soft sounds, and then silence fell again.

Sensing there was some sort of moment, Cor kept quiet, simply watching as the four boys took in the sunrise as if it was the first they'd ever seen.

“We waited ten years for this boys.” Prompto spoke this time, voice just as quiet, barely heard over the distance. The words simply added to the questions that Cor had.

Eventually, the sun was high enough in the sky that the prevailing colours of orange and red became a steady blue, and the four young men stepped away from the cliff's edge to rejoin him at the camp.

“You risked daemon attacks and left the city in the middle of the night, to watch a sunrise?” He questioned, looking at each of the boys in turn.

Noct all but threw himself in a waiting chair with a soft sigh. Prompto dragged another chair close to the prince and sat beside him, Gladio copying the action. Ignis wandered to the cooking area they had set up and began to get to work.

“When you hear our story, you'll understand.” Noct said quietly, looking into the dying embers of the fire.

“So tell me your story.” Sensing it would be a long one Cor leaned back in his chair, accepting the can of Ebony Ignis offered.

Noct nodded once, also taking a can. He opened it and took a sip with a grimace. “Our story starts in the year M.E. 756.”

With a frown, Cor pushed down his urge to remind the young prince that that year hadn't happened yet. Instead, he decided to listen to what he had to say before dragging them back home.

Noct spoke of an ordeal. A trip to a wedding that never happened. The fall of Insomnia, Altissia and then the rest of the world. His retinue spoke of ten years of darkness, and the eventual return of their king. He told him of the Revelation of Bahamut and his eventual death. But the story didn't end there.

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