The carriage wheels creaked against the cracked stone path as we left the Sanctuary behind, the golden spires of the holy city shrinking into the horizon. The sky over Azareth stretched vast and endless, its usual amber hue dulled beneath the looming shadow of the dunes. The desert winds whispered through the open windows, carrying the scent of sunbaked earth and something dry, something ancient.
No one spoke.
Not at first.
The silence was a heavy thing, thick as the tension pressing between us. Even Lucian, who always had a quip ready for moments like these, simply sat with his arms crossed, staring out the window, his expression unreadable. Elaris sat across from me, her fingers knotted in her lap, her emerald eyes flickering between me and the shifting sands outside.
Gareth and Callen had retreated into their own thoughts, the former running a gloved hand over his temples as if the events at the Sanctuary had left a dull ache in his skull. I wouldn't blame him. It left one in mine, too.
And then—
Alaria broke the silence.
"Alright," she said, her voice cutting through the weight of it all. "I think we need to talk."
I exhaled through my nose, bracing myself.
Because I knew exactly what she was about to ask.
She was sitting directly across from me, her emerald eyes locked onto mine, no longer teasing, no longer playful—but searching. Her fingers drummed restlessly against her knee, a telltale sign of the storm brewing inside her.
And when she finally spoke, her voice carried none of the sharp-edged suspicion that Daren had once thrown at me that day.
Instead, it carried something else.
Something softer.
Something almost pained.
"What the hell happened back there, Noctis?"
I glanced at her, at the way her crimson hair caught the dimming sunlight through the window, the way the desert winds stirred it ever so slightly. She was tense, but not afraid—not like Daren had been.
That day with Daren… there had been accusation in his voice. Distrust.
But Alaria?
Her voice was something else entirely.
It wasn't just questioning.
It was concerned.
I didn't answer immediately.
Not because I didn't want to.
But because I didn't know how.
Alaria leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her gaze never leaving mine. "We all saw it, Noctis," she said, quieter now. "That… thing inside you. Veylara. She was controlling you."
Elaris stiffened beside me, her fingers curling around the fabric of her sleeve. "He took control back," she murmured, almost defensive.
Alaria's gaze flicked to her. "Yeah," she agreed. "But for how long?"
Elaris flinched.
And I hated that she did.
Because that meant Alaria had just voiced the same fear that was already gnawing at her.
At all of them.
At me.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Alaria—"
"No," she cut me off, voice firm but not unkind. "Just… just answer me, Noctis. What is she? What the hell does she want?"
The carriage rattled over a rough patch in the road, the jolt rocking us slightly, but no one moved. No one took their eyes off me.
And I knew—
I couldn't avoid this.
Not anymore.
I glanced out the window, watching the endless dunes ripple beneath the fading light. The shadows stretched long across the sand, reaching, grasping, like something just beneath the surface was trying to claw its way out.
Maybe it was.
Maybe it always had been.
I closed my eyes, inhaling through my teeth.
"Veylara…" I finally said, my voice low. "She's old."
Alaria's brow furrowed. "How old?"
I hesitated.
Then, "Older than the Rift."
That got their attention.
Gareth's head snapped up, his sharp golden eyes locking onto me with alarm. "That's impossible," he said. "The Rift is the source of all anomalies—everything unnatural, everything outside the laws of the world. Nothing predates it."
I met his gaze. "She does."
A heavy silence settled over us.
Alaria exhaled, shaking her head. "And she's inside you?"
"More than that." My fingers twitched against my knee. "She's bound to me. I made a pact."
Lucian let out a low curse, finally breaking his silence. "And let me guess," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "this pact wasn't just for show, was it?"
I shook my head.
Alaria stared at me, long and hard, before leaning back against the seat, her expression shifting—less anger now, less frustration, and something… else.
Something almost like realization.
"And back at the Sanctuary," she said slowly, "when she took control… it wasn't the first time, was it?"
I didn't answer.
Because I didn't need to.
Her lips parted slightly, her hands still fidgeting in her lap. "You've been fighting her this whole time, haven't you?"
A lump formed in my throat.
I swallowed it.
"Yes."
Another beat of silence.
Then, softly—
"That's why you hesitated that day."
I blinked. "What?"
"That day," she repeated, her voice quieter now. "Back at the ruins, when Daren called you out. When he left. You didn't say anything back then because you didn't know how to explain it, did you?"
I let out a slow breath, running a hand through my hair.
"No," I admitted.
Alaria stared at me for a long moment. Then, without warning—
She kicked me.
Not hard. Not to hurt. Just enough to make me jerk in place.
"Idiot," she muttered, arms crossed, her emerald gaze burning into mine. "You could've told me."
I arched a brow. "And what, exactly, would you have done, Alaria?"
She scowled. "I don't know! But at least you wouldn't have been dealing with this alone!"
I blinked.
She looked away then, frustration flickering across her face, but beneath it, beneath all of it—
There was something else.
Something achingly familiar.
Something I'd seen before, felt before.
It wasn't anger.
It was worry.
For me.
And that realization made my chest tighten in a way I wasn't prepared for.
Elaris glanced between us, her hands still clenched in her lap. "We're not going anywhere, Noctis," she murmured. "No matter what's inside you, no matter what you're fighting. You're not alone in this."
The others nodded.
Even Gareth, though reluctant, gave a small nod.
Even Lucian. Even Callen.
And then—
Even Alaria.
I looked at them, at these people who had seen what I was becoming, seen what Veylara could do—and still, they stayed.
Still, they chose me.
And for the first time in a long, long time—
I wasn't sure if I deserved that.
The carriage jolted over a rough patch of road, but I barely noticed.
I was still staring at them—at the people who had every reason to be afraid, every reason to turn away… and yet, they hadn't.
Not yet.
But how long would that last?
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know how this ends," I admitted, voice quiet. "I don't know if I can keep fighting her forever."
Elaris's hands clenched in her lap. "You will," she said firmly, almost desperately. "You have to."
Alaria snorted, leaning back against the seat, one arm draped over the backrest. "You think he has a choice?" she muttered. "It's not like he can just shove her out of his soul and call it a day."
Gareth nodded grimly. "And even if he could, what happens next? If she's older than the Rift, then we have no idea what breaking that bond would do to him." His sharp golden eyes locked onto mine. "Or if it's even possible."
That thought settled over the group like a shadow.
The air inside the carriage turned heavy again.
And then Alaria, ever the one to break the silence, exhaled sharply and dragged a hand down her face. "Okay, you know what? Screw all this doom-and-gloom crap. Let's talk about what actually matters."
I arched a brow. "And what's that?"
She gestured vaguely in my direction. "What do you want, Noctis?"
I blinked.
She leaned forward, her emerald eyes narrowing. "Forget what's supposed to happen, or what some prophecy says, or what the Divine Children think. What do you want? What's your endgame?"
That was a harder question than I wanted to admit.
Because the truth was—I didn't know.
I had been so focused on survival, on just getting from one battle to the next, that I hadn't stopped to consider the bigger picture.
Veylara wanted freedom.
The Divine Children wanted me dead.
And me?
I just… wanted to keep going.
But going where?
I exhaled, leaning my head back against the carriage wall, staring at the ceiling. "…I want to make it through this without losing myself."
Alaria studied me for a moment before tilting her head, her expression unreadable. "And?"
I frowned. "And…?"
She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Noct. That's not a real answer." She tapped her fingers against her knee. "What happens when you win? What happens if you somehow beat this whole 'Veylara-is-living-inside-you' thing? Where does that leave you?"
I hesitated.
Because the truth was—I didn't know if I even could win.
And even if I did…
What would I be without the Rift?
Without Veylara?
Without the power that had carried me this far?
Elaris must have sensed the conflict in me because she reached out, her hand gently brushing against mine. "Noctis," she said softly, "if we're going to fight for something, we need to know why."
I swallowed.
She was right.
But I wasn't ready to answer that yet.
Lucian, who had been silent for a long while, finally sighed, rubbing at his injured shoulder. "Look, whatever the answer is, we're here for now. And we're not about to let some ancient deity turn you into her meat puppet."
Alaria smirked at that. "Glad to know where we stand on that, Luce."
Lucian shot her a deadpan look. "I mean it. Noctis, you might be dealing with the worst possible scenario here, but we've already decided." His gaze hardened. "We're not letting you deal with this alone."
I looked at him, then at the rest of them.
Even Gareth nodded. "Like it or not, we're in this together."
Callen thumped a fist against his chest. "Where you go, we go."
My throat tightened.
I didn't deserve this.
But I wasn't going to waste it.
I inhaled deeply, nodding. "Alright."
Alaria raised a brow. "Alright?"
I met her gaze, something steadier settling in my chest. "Alright," I repeated, firmer this time.
Lucian gave a small smirk. "Good. Because I'd rather not have to stab you if Veylara takes over again."
Alaria scoffed. "Speak for yourself. I'd take the first swing."
Elaris shot her a glare, but I just chuckled, shaking my head.
And just like that—
The weight wasn't gone.
But it was lighter.
For now.
The carriage rumbled forward, carrying us deeper into the shifting sands of Azareth, the golden horizon stretching endlessly before us.
And I couldn't shake the feeling—
That something was waiting for us ahead.