FFXV Kinkmeme

The healer of Lucis lay on the floor of his clinic, the skin of his knuckles cracking as he pushed himself to his knees. His long, dark red hair fell from its messy bun and pooled about his shoulders, and his lips were parted in breathless shock.

"How..." He fumbled for the edge of his worktable. "How are you still alive?"

It was like watching a door close behind Ardyn's eyes. The man's expression went blank, and there was a finality in the way he straightened, in the line of his shoulders and the shift of his feet. Yet now that Noct knew what to look for, he could feel the Scourge in Ardyn's flesh, thick and heavy in his veins, his sinew, in the very cells of his skin. It pushed outward, and for a terrifying moment Noct felt it seeking him, like a creature from the dark questing for prey. He held tight to the tabletop, not quite daring to rise.

"Such a shame," Ardyn said, and his voice took on that sing-song tone he'd used when he first met Noctis months ago: Impersonal, mocking, and faintly cold. Noct levered himself to his feet and took a step forward.

"Ardyn," he said, pressing down panic with every word. "We don't have much time. Please." He called magic to his palms, letting it pool in his fingers, and the glow it cast made the blood behind Ardyn's skin go shadowy and grey.

"Time," Ardyn said, backing away from Noct's approach, "is the one thing I have always been guaranteed." He tipped his hat to Noct, and the smile he gave him was wolfish and grim. "Your highness."

Noct tensed.

Then there was a great suctioning of air, a crack loud enough to rattle the metal grille at the entrance of the alcove, and Ardyn was gone.

Voices called out overhead, muffled and faint.

Noct stayed where he was, rocking slightly on his feet, hands bright with his healing magic. The sudden absence of the Scourge that burned through Ardyn left Noct reeling and unsettled, like someone who just ran a marathon only to find himself thrown into the open air. His breath sounded too loud and grating in his ears, louder even than the clack of the grille being opened and the rustle of curtains being drawn aside. Then there were hands on his shoulders, a voice in his ear, and Noct dropped to his knees and retched onto his only nice rug.

"Shit, Noct. Nox, sorry." He knew that voice. Nyx, a member of the Kingsglaive and owner of the only clean shower on the block. Noct leaned into the warmth of the older man's hand on his forehead, and let the magic sink back into his skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't talk like that," Nyx said. "What happened, kid? You never get sick. Bad for business and all."

"It's Ardyn," Noct said. "Did you see--" He looked up. "How did he..."

"There's no one here but you," Nyx said. "Hey, Lib, we might need a code green on this one!"

Noct shook his head, struggling to stand. He knew what code green meant: Ignis, Noct's former advisor and current interfering, all-seeing guardian, had a rule that if Noct got in over his head, he or Gladio were to be contacted immediately. It always led to awkwardness, reminders of a duty long abandoned but not forgotten, the weight of a crown that still pressed upon his brow like a phantom pain.

"Don't bother," he told Nyx. "I know what I need to do. Just. There might be a situation."

Nyx frowned. "I don't like the sound of that. What kind of situation?"

"The Scourge." Noct pushed out of the Glaive's hold and tottered for the exit. "When he dies, if his body is exposed..." He closed his eyes. He didn't want to think of Ardyn dead, slowly disappearing in the way of Scourge victims in Insomnia, his bones shifting and changing even as they melted into the street under the city's reinforced daemon lights. "There might be an epidemic."

The silence that followed this was leaden indeed.

"Fuck code green," Nyx said. "This needs to go to the King."

"Not yet," Noct told him. "I can stop it. I just need to find him. But if I can't... I'll find him anyways. We'll need to set up a quarantine, raid stores for ethers so I can start healing the infected." He lifted the grille at the entrance and looked back. "Can you make sure the Glaives are ready, just in case?"

Nyx inclined his head. Noct hoped this meant that he wouldn't go running to his father, but at this point, he wasn't so sure that involving the king was such a bad idea. Noct already felt overwhelmed, his chest tight with fear, stomach rocking as he moved.

He couldn't dwell on how or why Ardyn managed to disappear on the spot: Did he have magic? A pre-made spell flask? But Noct would have seen the fragments, and only the line of Lucis or the Oracle possessed magic.

He remembered something Ardyn had said, in the beginning. He'd spoken of the line of Lucis, the possibility that the line had branched off, carrying that healing magic with it...

And Ardyn had called Noct highness.

Noct placed a hand on the wall outside his alcove and took a breath. He wasn't sure if this would work: It had done its job when he tried it in the fountain. He just had to think of this as... a bigger fountain. A much bigger one.

"Right," he said, and called his magic forth once again.

It spread out from his fingertips, a great, invisible aura, searching for spots of sickness and disease. He found it: A whooping cough a few blocks down. A rash, a cold, the constant ache of chronic pain. Not the Scourge, not yet.

He pushed farther. Bits of the Scourge appeared in his awareness, seeds of it blooming in unknowing hosts, but none of them strong as what moved in Ardyn. He took a few shaking steps, trying to drag his magic with him, and fell into the side of the wall as he felt the faintest sinking hooks of Ardyn's corrupted flesh.

He could sense my magic, he thought, and rapidly drew the pool of his awareness back into his hands. It left him dizzy for a minute, and he had to rest his forehead against the wall, but when he finally pushed away, he knew.

He knew where Ardyn had gone.