Chapter Text
The ground quaked as the serpent emerged, its coiled body a mass of obsidian scales that reflected faint glimmers of light from the cavern like shards of broken mirrors. Its head was monstrous, shaped like a viper's but far larger, with crimson eyes glowing like molten embers embedded in pools of black ichor. A pair of slitted pupils fixed on the trio with an intelligence that didn’t belong to some mindless beast. Its forked tongue flickered out, tasting the humid air, and the sound of it was like a wet whip cracking in the tense silence.
The serpent’s roar filled the cave, a sound both guttural and high-pitched, as though two different throats were screaming simultaneously. It reverberated in Ardyn’s chest, shaking loose every ounce of his composure. He stifled a wince, pulling his coat tight around his body to mask the shiver racing down his spine.
“Well,” he muttered, licking his dry lips. “Aren’t you just the loveliest host...” His voice carried its usual flair of sardonic wit, but even he couldn’t ignore the weight of the beast’s gaze. It was studying them, not with hunger, but with purpose.
A sudden lunge, fast, too fast. The serpent’s jaw snapped toward them, fangs gleaming like polished ivory. Terra barely had time to throw up a protective barrier of magic, the translucent shield cracking under the sheer force of the strike before shattering like glass. She staggered back with a sharp breath, trembling as sparks of her crumbled magic fizzled in the air. “It… it broke through my shield like it was nothing!”
“No time to marvel at its strength, my dear!” Ardyn dove to her side, narrowly avoiding a sweep of the serpent’s tail that left a trail of cracks along the stone floor. “Unless, of course, you’d rather be added to its décor!”
Gilgamesh surged forward with a bellowing laugh, a sword in each hand, each blade practically vibrating with his energy. “Now this is a proper foe! Come, serpent! Face the might of Gilgamesh!” He swung with all his strength, blades digging into the serpent’s scales, but the impact barely left a scratch. The beast recoiled, its tail whipping back and slamming Gilgamesh into the cavern wall with such force that dust and shards of rock rained down around him. He slumped to the ground with a groan, more dazed than injured.
Ardyn caught sight of the mural again as his eyes darted for an opening. The unyielding image of Noctis burned into his mind. Every carved detail mocked him, the etched tension in Noctis’s face mirroring the unease buried within his own. He shook the thought, clenching his jaw as the snake let out another thunderous cry, roaring loud enough to drown out the chaos of Gilgamesh staggering back into the fight.
Terra, knees trembling, had barely risen to a defensive position. Her wide eyes flicked back to the mural, drawn like a moth to its condemning light, and then back to the monster. The connection pulled her taut. Ardyn knew that look; it wasn’t terror, it was doubt and guilt.
“Snap out of it!” His voice cut through the clamor, sharp and commanding. Not a trace of aloofness remained. Ardyn’s hand shot forward, gripping Terra’s arm as the serpent arched its massive body, preparing another strike. “Whatever nonsense that’s painted on the wall, it means nothing right now! Focus, or we’re all done for!”
Terra flinched at his words. Her lips parted as if to protest, or perhaps agree, but no sound came out.
Gilgamesh stumbled toward them, swords raised in defiance, but his bravado lacked its usual fervor. The mural still clung to his thoughts, a parasite of doubt siphoning away his joyful zeal. His steps faltered as another thought took form: Bartz, his ever-loyal companion, poised with blade in hand… against him.
Ardyn's teeth clenched as he saw hesitation bloom in both of them. His fingers flexed against the hilt he’d drawn from his coat. That hesitation wasn’t just their burden, it was his, too. The image of Noctis gnawed at the edges of his mind like a splinter he couldn’t dislodge. When had this place transformed from a mere cave to a stage designed to suffocate? He shoved the thought into the recesses of his mind, focusing instead on calculation.
With a flourish, he disappeared, warping several feet into the air above the serpent's head before reappearing in a flash of ruby tinted light. He came down hard, slashing at its monstrous eye with calculated precision. The blade glanced off its eyelid as the serpent snapped its head back, bellowing in rage.
It thrashed violently, its colossal body smashing into the walls as it tried to shake him off. He warped again, vanishing to a point just below the serpent, only to reappear mid-strike at its flank. But the beast wasn't fooled. It coiled with terrifying speed, its tail sweeping above him like a guillotine and slamming him out of the air.
The impact sent him careening through the cavern, his body slamming hard into the unyielding ground. Pain flared in his chest as his barrier of invulnerability collapsed momentarily. No black blood spilled yet, but he didn’t need to check to know it had been a close call.
Before he could attempt to rise, a pair of hands caught him by the arms, steadying him. Ardyn blinked up, disoriented, to find Terra and Gilgamesh on either side. Gilgamesh was grinning, albeit shakily, and Terra’s usual timidness had given way to a flicker of resolve.
“Didn’t think we’d let you take all the glory, did you?" Gilgamesh chuckled, adjusting the grip on his mismatched weapons before casting a wary glance back at the ravenous monster.
Ardyn slumped into their support for a moment, the faintest crack in his smug exterior showing as he caught his breath. “Much obliged…” His lips twitched into a half-smile. "A pity we can’t tame it… Imagine the havoc we’d wreak with a pet of this size...”
The serpent roared again, its ire redoubling as it reared high above them. Whatever humor had momentarily dulled the intensity of the moment faded quickly. Witty banter wouldn’t save their necks this time; strategy would.
Ardyn rose fully to his feet, shaking off Gilgamesh and Terra's hands as he straightened his coat.
“Warping is useless…” he admitted, brushing away specks of dirt clinging stubbornly to his gloves. “The damn thing’s clever enough to anticipate it. And brute strength alone…” He flicked a glance at Gilgamesh’s lackluster results, “...isn’t going to make a dent.”
Gilgamesh jabbed a thumb toward himself, recovering some of his eccentric confidence. “Its hide’s tougher than dragon scales! If we don’t find the weak spot, it’ll outlast even my limitless stamina!”
Terra’s fingers curled into fists as her gaze darted between the monster and their surroundings. When she spoke, her voice was uncharacteristically firm, even if quiet. “Fire…” She lifted her hands slightly, her green eyes glowing with the soft beginnings of magical charge. “Its scales… they’re strong, but if it’s real, or even if it’s just made of darkness, fire will weaken them!”
“Fire?” Ardyn’s brows arched slightly as he considered it. “Well, isn’t that delightfully destructive! Do proceed…”
Terra didn’t hesitate this time. She closed her eyes, her breathing slowing as an aura of energy began to radiate from her form. The air around them grew warmer, drier, despite the damp chill of the cavern. Sparks ignited as she extended a hand toward each of them. Their weapons burst to life with flames so bright they seemed to consume the darkness itself.
Gilgamesh’s mismatched swords looked almost elegant in their fiery transformation, the heat licking upwards from their blades. Ardyn examined the fire dancing along his saber with an almost morbid curiosity, testing the weight of his weapon anew before offering Terra an approving nod.
“I daresay you’ve outdone yourself, my dear.”
“Save the flattery for later,” she replied, her voice trembling just slightly now as the effort of maintaining the spell began to show. “Strike… together!”
The trio moved as one, Terra hanging back to keep the enchantment steady while Ardyn and Gilgamesh surged forward. The flames illuminated the serpent’s massive form, casting grotesque shadows on the cavern walls as the battle reached its peak.
Gilgamesh shouted another battle cry, his fiery blades slashing down onto the serpent’s flank with renewed vigor. This time, flames bit into the scales, leaving charred lines in their wake. The serpent recoiled, hissing in pain, its movements more erratic now.
Ardyn warped closer this time, careful to avoid the thrashing tail. With precision and a flourish, he dragged his ablaze saber across the creature's underbelly, the flame scorching the sensitive flesh there.
The serpent shrieked, its immense body writhing wildly as it tried unsuccessfully to douse the fire growing along its wounds. Terra kept her focus, guiding the magic toward their blades and keeping the flames alive even as sweat beaded her brow.
Ardyn spotted it then: an opening. “The throat!” he called out sharply, his mind cutting through the chaos. “Together, now!”
Gilgamesh hurled himself directly under the creature’s head, fists gripping his swords tightly. “Let’s end this snake’s dance!”
With its throat exposed mid-roar, Ardyn plunged his blade in with ruthless efficiency, the fire consuming the flesh around the wound. The strike was joined by Gilgamesh’s blades burying deep into its neck from either side. The beast let out one final, ear-splitting cry, its massive body convulsing before crashing to the ground in a wave of displaced air and smoke.
The cavern went silent save for the heavy breathing of its remaining occupants. The serpent began to dissolve into plumes of thick, black smoke, the last vestiges of its form scattering upward and fading into the shadows of the ceiling.
The flames on their swords flickered out, leaving their steel cool and untouched as if the magic had never been there. Terra dropped to her knees, exhaustion tugging at her limbs. Gilgamesh wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, grinning despite the scrape on his cheek and the weariness in his stance.
Ardyn sheathed his saber, letting out what might have been a relieved sigh, though it was so faint it could have been mistaken for simply catching his breath. “Well, that was invigorating…” he remarked, running a hand through his disheveled hair. His voice carried its usual nonchalance, but even he couldn’t fully bury the tired relief that laced his words.
For a moment, no one spoke. The three warriors sat there, the remnants of the serpent’s oppressive presence still weighing heavy on them. But the mural, and the questions it raised, lingered just as heavily in the backs of their minds.
The world reeled for a moment as a warp spell took hold, Ardyn’s magic ripping the trio from the blistering heat of the cavern and hurling them back into the crisp, open air of the world outside. They reappeared in a blur, collapsing onto cold, dewy grass illuminated by the hushed glow of the evening moon.
Ardyn straightened first, bracing himself with one hand while the other tugged his coat back into place. His head swam, not from the effort, but from the lingering tension clawing at the edges of his mind. Even now, the ghost of the serpent’s shrieking roar echoed faintly in his ears.
“Everyone intact?” His voice came out smoother than anticipated, a practiced sense of shallowness that barely masked the knot twisting in his chest.
Gilgamesh groaned dramatically, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Intact? HA! I’ve faced foes with twenty swords and twice the malice, and even they didn’t hit as hard as that oversized worm!”
Terra came next, sitting upright with her hands planted in the grass, her breath uneven but steadying. Strands of green hair stuck to her face, but she didn’t bother to fix them. Her shoulders slumped as if releasing a weight she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying since they entered the cave. “I… I’m fine,” she said, though her voice trembled faintly. It was difficult to tell if it was from exhaustion or something deeper.
Ardyn allowed his gaze to linger on her before nodding. “Good.” He leaned back, planting both hands on the ground behind him as he scanned the horizon. The fading light painted the landscape in hues of muted gold and blue, a tranquil facade that stood in sharp contrast to the chaos they’d just survived.
“That thing was no mere beast,” Ardyn said, tilting his head as if addressing no one in particular. “Something unnatural stirred in its essence… though with who we’re up against,” his lips curled into a thin, sardonic smile, “should we really be so surprised?”
Gilgamesh groaned again, shifting onto one elbow as he glowered up at him. “You’re doing it again…”
“Doing what?”
“Talking in riddles! ‘Unnatural essence,’ ‘we’re up against’- just spit it out, Ardyn! You’ve clearly got something churning up there, right?”
Ardyn chuckled softly but said nothing. He pushed himself to his feet, brushing bits of grass and dirt from his coat with exaggerated care. His gaze slipped to the cave entrance behind them, where shadows clung thick and heavy around the jagged maw leading into the abyss.
Terra stood as well, less graceful but resolute. She followed his line of sight, her green eyes narrowing slightly. “It wasn’t just the serpent,” she murmured, almost to herself.
Gilgamesh gave her a puzzled look as he climbed to his feet. “What do you mean? We took it down, didn’t we? Fire-blazed and swords flying, and it was glorious!”
Terra shook her head slowly, her lips pressing together. “I mean… the mural. The images we saw on the walls. They…” Her voice faltered, and she rubbed her arm as though the memory itself was abrasive.
“Ah, yes. The mural,” Ardyn mused, his tone light but his expression unreadable. “An artistic touch, wouldn’t you say? Such craftsmanship, such detail… Whoever carved it truly aimed to inspire unease.” His voice dropped, and for a moment, the facade cracked. “And succeeded brilliantly...”
Gilgamesh frowned, his usual boisterous energy dimmed. “That thing was madness carved in stone… Whatever half-wit artisan put that there oughta be given a-”
“It wasn’t madness,” Terra interrupted, her voice quiet but firm. She lifted her chin slightly, meeting Gilgamesh’s gaze. “It… it was a warning.”
Gilgamesh blinked, taken aback, but recovered quickly. He sheathed one of his swords with an exaggerated flourish, the clink of metal breaking the uneasy silence. “Warning or not, it’s behind us now, isn’t it? No sense dragging something like that back to Queen Cosmos…”
“Oh?” Ardyn regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “And what, my dear friend, do we tell her instead? Simply regale her with thrilling tales of the serpent we vanquished? Spare her the, shall we say, darker undertones of our little adventure?”
“Exactly!” Gilgamesh slammed his fist into his palm. “The Queen doesn’t need to worry about some spooky etchings on a cave wall! We’re the Warriors of Cosmos! It’s our job to handle this stuff before it reaches her ears… right?”
Terra glanced between them, her expression conflicted. “But… isn’t it her decision to make? If the mural is connected to Chaos or…” she hesitated, “...or something even worse, not telling her would be like lying. If it’s important, and we hold it back, what happens if-”
“It’s not important!” Gilgamesh interjected, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “It’s just cave nonsense! Stop giving it so much weight!”
“And yet,” Ardyn drawled, stepping closer, “it’s carved itself rather deeply into your mind, hasn’t it?” He tilted his head, his amber eyes gleaming with faint amusement. “For something so ‘unimportant,’ it certainly seems to have struck a nerve with you...”
Gilgamesh stiffened, his jaw tightening. “I don’t-” He started, but let the words die in his throat. His stance slouched slightly, and he turned away from them, muttering under his breath. “It’s just dumb drawings, that’s all…”
Ardyn sighed, a rare weariness threading through his voice as he paced a few steps ahead of them. His boots crunched softly against the gravel path leading away from the cave. “Perhaps. Or perhaps not.” He stopped, lifting an arm theatrically as he gestured to the horizon. “Regardless, we have a choice to make.”
Terra spoke before he could continue. “We have to tell her,” she said, her voice firmer now. She took a step forward, her hands clenched into small fists. “If we don’t… and it turns out to be important… we’ll have failed her. And the kingdom...”
Gilgamesh groaned audibly. “You’re making it sound like a life-or-death thing! We handled the serpent, didn’t we? That’s one less monster for Chaos to throw at us!”
“Did we handle all of it, though?” Ardyn asked, turning his head to look at them over his shoulder. His expression was pointed, but not unkind. “Or have we merely stumbled into the edges of something much larger? Perhaps… perhaps Light was onto something…”
Gilgamesh opened his mouth, ready to retort, but Ardyn’s words caught him off-guard. He stared for a moment before closing his mouth again with a frustrated huff.
Terra stepped beside him, her green eyes searching his face for a glimpse of understanding. “You saw the same thing we did,” she said quietly. “It wasn’t just random pictures, It wasn’t meaningless…”
Ardyn let them stew on that as he resumed walking, forcing them to follow. The soft crunch of their footsteps filled the silence. The castle loomed faintly in the distance now, a beacon of stability that felt increasingly fragile.
Finally, he spoke again, his voice lighter but no less sincere. “It’s clear you both care deeply about our dear Queen’s wellbeing, as do I. And it’s precisely for that reason that we must tell her.”
Gilgamesh groaned again, louder this time. “But why? It’s just gonna make her worry! She shouldn’t have to deal with everything! That’s why we’re here! To handle the messy stuff!”
“And what if this ‘messy stuff’ becomes uncontrollable?” Ardyn countered, spinning on his heel to face them. His expression softened slightly, and his tone lost its usual theatricality. “If Cosmos knows, everyone, including her, stands a better chance of preventing that mural’s grim predictions from ever coming to pass.”
Terra nodded, emboldened by his words. “She’ll know what to do, that’s why she leads us!”
Gilgamesh scowled, but the fight left him. He looked between the two of them, his hands balling into fists before finally unclenching. “Fine!” he snapped, throwing his arms into the air. “We’ll tell her… But if she spends the next week losing sleep over it, I’m pinning it on you.”
Ardyn smirked faintly. “Duly noted.”
They returned to walking, the castle now close enough that its grand spires gleamed faintly in the moonlight. The silence between them wasn’t tense, but thoughtful. Each of them seemed lost in their own reflections, the weight of the mural still lingering but beginning to dissipate under the clarity of purpose.
When they reached the castle’s front gates, Ardyn stopped, gesturing gallantly for Terra and Gilgamesh to step through first. “After you, my friends, let us deliver our little tale with all the pomp and drama it deserves.”
Gilgamesh rolled his eyes but trudged forward, his reluctance tempered by a faint smirk. Terra hesitated only briefly before following, her steps lighter now, though her resolve remained firm.
Ardyn lingered for a moment after they passed through, his gaze flicking once more to the horizon behind them. The shadows of the night seemed deeper now, as if the darkness had shifted somehow, though he couldn’t quite place how.
With a sigh, he adjusted his hat and followed them inside, the gates closing behind him with a low, resonant clang.