Regis drops his cane and puts up a magic barrier a split second before two assailants armed with automatic handguns round the corner. They fire repeatedly at the barrier, but the bullets simply ricochet off. Behind the transparent blue wall, the King and Prince both hold their swords at the ready.
“If neither Clarus nor Gladiolus can make it to us,” Regis says, voice strained, “Then we will have to fight.”
Noctis nods. He watches one gunman load a new magazine into his gun before continuing to fire. “Next time one of them has to reload, let down the wall just enough to let a warp strike through. I can get them both if I’m quick.”
“Well then be quick, Son. Here comes your chance.”
An empty magazine clatters to the floor. Regis relaxes his hold on the magic protecting them and the light from it dims and flickers but does not go out entirely. Noctis quickly raises his sword and thrown it like a javelin. Noctis and the sword seem to disintegrate into a shower of white-blue sparks, only to reappear in a cracking flash across the hall as the spectral weapon pierces the gunman’s chest. The second enemy turns on his heals and takes aim at the Prince. His shot goes past Noctis’ head, and in one swift motion Noctis pulls his sword from the dead enemy and slashes at the second enemy, cutting him deep across the chest. In a matter of seconds both assailants are down and Noctis stands there in the center of a sort of triangle formation of three bodies in shock. The only dead body the sixteen year old Prince had ever seen was at the funeral of Lilly Amicitia, wife of Clarus Amicitia, who had lost a battle with postpartum depression after Iris was born and taken her own life. He had only been four years old at the time. Now he had witnessed a murder and taken two lives.
“Noctis...” Noctis turns to his father, who stands stiller than a statue staring straight ahead, not directly at Noctis. “Well done.”
Noctis nods, unable to speak...until he sees it. A growing patch or red on his fathers lower abdomen. “DAD!” he screams and runs to him just as the King collapses onto the ground. Noctis drops to his knees and presses on hand to the wound and supporting his fathers head with the other. “Come on, Dad. Stay with me, the safe room’s not much farther.”
“No, Son,” Regis’ voice trembles and cracks. “Go. Get yourself to safety.”
Noctis shakes his head. “What did I tell you before? Not a chance. I’ll drag you if I have to, come on!” He places one of his fathers hands on the wound. “Keep pressure on it. There’s a store of potions in the safe room, you can make it ‘till then.” He hooks one of his arms around the older mans waist and hooks his fathers arm around his neck. It is a struggle, but he manages to haul them both to their feet.
The two limp their way to the throne room, and Noctis grunts as he shoulders open the heavy doors. “Not much farther,” he assures Regis, “Just hang on.” He almost looses his grip on his father as he carries half of his weight on one side to the North wall, but miraculously he reaches the place where a hidden piece of panel serves as the entrance to a concrete and steel room that it was said nothing could penetrate. Knowing he would need both hands free to open the panel, he gently sets his father down and props him up against the wall.
“End of the line.”
Noctis spins around and sees a woman step out from behind a support pillar. She has a gun pointed at them, and Noctis freezes.
“River?!” Regis gasps.
“Oh, so you remember me? Good. Then I you already know why I’m about to shoot your baby boy in the head and smile while you cry and bleed to death.”
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timeasmymeasure
Fill Part 2: Regis & Noctis, Noctis protecting injured Regis
Date: 2017-11-14 04:28 am (UTC)“If neither Clarus nor Gladiolus can make it to us,” Regis says, voice strained, “Then we will have to fight.”
Noctis nods. He watches one gunman load a new magazine into his gun before continuing to fire. “Next time one of them has to reload, let down the wall just enough to let a warp strike through. I can get them both if I’m quick.”
“Well then be quick, Son. Here comes your chance.”
An empty magazine clatters to the floor. Regis relaxes his hold on the magic protecting them and the light from it dims and flickers but does not go out entirely. Noctis quickly raises his sword and thrown it like a javelin. Noctis and the sword seem to disintegrate into a shower of white-blue sparks, only to reappear in a cracking flash across the hall as the spectral weapon pierces the gunman’s chest. The second enemy turns on his heals and takes aim at the Prince. His shot goes past Noctis’ head, and in one swift motion Noctis pulls his sword from the dead enemy and slashes at the second enemy, cutting him deep across the chest. In a matter of seconds both assailants are down and Noctis stands there in the center of a sort of triangle formation of three bodies in shock. The only dead body the sixteen year old Prince had ever seen was at the funeral of Lilly Amicitia, wife of Clarus Amicitia, who had lost a battle with postpartum depression after Iris was born and taken her own life. He had only been four years old at the time. Now he had witnessed a murder and taken two lives.
“Noctis...” Noctis turns to his father, who stands stiller than a statue staring straight ahead, not directly at Noctis. “Well done.”
Noctis nods, unable to speak...until he sees it. A growing patch or red on his fathers lower abdomen. “DAD!” he screams and runs to him just as the King collapses onto the ground. Noctis drops to his knees and presses on hand to the wound and supporting his fathers head with the other. “Come on, Dad. Stay with me, the safe room’s not much farther.”
“No, Son,” Regis’ voice trembles and cracks. “Go. Get yourself to safety.”
Noctis shakes his head. “What did I tell you before? Not a chance. I’ll drag you if I have to, come on!” He places one of his fathers hands on the wound. “Keep pressure on it. There’s a store of potions in the safe room, you can make it ‘till then.” He hooks one of his arms around the older mans waist and hooks his fathers arm around his neck. It is a struggle, but he manages to haul them both to their feet.
The two limp their way to the throne room, and Noctis grunts as he shoulders open the heavy doors. “Not much farther,” he assures Regis, “Just hang on.” He almost looses his grip on his father as he carries half of his weight on one side to the North wall, but miraculously he reaches the place where a hidden piece of panel serves as the entrance to a concrete and steel room that it was said nothing could penetrate. Knowing he would need both hands free to open the panel, he gently sets his father down and props him up against the wall.
“End of the line.”
Noctis spins around and sees a woman step out from behind a support pillar. She has a gun pointed at them, and Noctis freezes.
“River?!” Regis gasps.
“Oh, so you remember me? Good. Then I you already know why I’m about to shoot your baby boy in the head and smile while you cry and bleed to death.”