FFXV: The Promise, Chapter 3

Wow. I guess I was tired.

That was Prompto’s first thought when his eyes popped open and discovered that the sun was much higher in the sky than usual. He typically found himself stirring just after dawn these days, sunrise at the very latest, still cool and quiet enough to go for a jog around the village before the farms got too busy. But there was no chance of that at this hour. Even with the dense canopy of trees the humid air had begun to heat up. He’d be worn out before the day even started if he went running now.

FFXV: The Promise, Chapter 2

The Disc of Cauthess was the consummate wonder of the world. More bizarre than the most architecturally or technologically fascinating ruins of Solheim, more captivating than the perpetually-smoking Ravatogh, the rocky arcs and arches that made their stationary dance around the heart of Duscae never ceased to stir the imagination of those who came across it. Was it made by the Gods, perhaps when they first alighted upon Eos untold ages ago? Was it man-made, some sort of Solheminian calendrical sculpture or sacred space? Was it a simply natural formation, dramatized and aggravated by the fall of the Meteor and the presence of the Archaean? Even though the Landforger and the Meteor had both physically disappeared from the impact crater, the Disc itself still lay spread open across the land like a giant stone rose, and people still came from all over Lucis to gaze upon it, even from a distance. But it held little interest now for Prompto as he rode down the highway that ran along the southwest edge of Cauthess, because the land’s newest wonder was coming into view.

I Still Miss Someone: Prelude to a Promise

One – M.E. 766-VII-21st (Now)

The blond man awoke blinking, and immediately grimaced at the light shining at him from the window. He almost felt bad for turning on his side away from it, but the morning sun really was going to take some getting used to again. It was only the second day since they brought back the dawn, only the second time in ten years that the sun could shine unobstructed over Eos. As much as everyone had longed for the light, the impact of its return was surely going to be as unsettling as enduring a decade of darkness, at least in the short term. Though “unsettling,” for Ignis, for Gladio, and for him, would be something of a gross understatement, and there was no guarantee that any such term would be short.

Lying on his side, he looked out across the other side of the bed to the dusty furnishings of the absurdly large bedroom. His thoughts drifted to last night, when they were finally settling down after what felt like days awake and relentlessly active, having fully secured the Citadel with the help of the Crownsguard. He’d called dibs on the Crown Prince’s old room. The other two seemed taken aback but didn’t object, and whatever reservations they may have had they kept to themselves. Perhaps they shouldn’t have, he thought. Maybe they should have said what was on their minds. It’s not like he hadn’t been a regular fixture in the prince’s quarters, to say nothing of the prince’s life, for several years. But those were different times. There were four of them then. No prophecies. No sacrifices. No treaties or covenants. No race across the world. No ten years of night. Just the four of them: a bodyguard, an adviser, a pleb, and the prince binding them all together. And now…

He sputtered out a sigh as he gazed out at the sunlit loneliness of the room. “Day Two,” he whispered.

Day Two of a world without Noct.

FFXV: The Promise, Chapter 1

“Once this is all over, I say we break down the borders–come together as a nation. …I’m gonna make this world a better place. You with me?”

“Uh-huh. Ever at your side.”

FINAL FANTASY XV
The Promise

M.E. 779-VII-20th

“Welcome to Galdin, friends, and welcome to the tenth annual Festival of the Dawn!”

It was hot on the quay that midsummer noon, and the throngs of happy people crowding the place were making it even hotter. A cool breeze was trying to make its way off the water and through the crowd, but it was little competition for the warm air generated by all the clapping and cheering that went up as the mayor gave the official festival welcome. People had been steadily pouring in all morning from many miles around to take in the sights, to enjoy the games and physical challenges set up all along the beachfront of the Vannath Coast, to peruse the vendor booths that walled the west side of the widened boardwalk–and, of course, to savor the culinary curiosities of the Mother of Pearl restaurant, restored and under famous new management. Yes, the Day of the Dawn had become quite the lively spectacle over the last few years, as Galdin bore witness to its own dawn, transformed from a diminished-then-abandoned resort to a thriving fishing village and port. And everyone there who still remembered the ten years of the Long Night would have it no other way.

Well, almost everyone.