Chapter Text
It was quiet and peaceful in town…before dawn sunlight caressed it.
Northern Insomnia, a boring town in a place of Eos, did not require to be told twice to awaken almost in the same second the sun did: five minutes after the first rays of light made their entrance, the streets would start getting crowded as if though everybody was hiding behind the doors, only awaiting for the signal to appear on stage all at the same time.
There was a house, nearby the town hall and the most popular windmill, that was constructed on top of a tiny hill; the height, only a few feet above most of the other buildings, gave it a good two minutes of anticipation: the first rays of sunlight to wake the town laid always on the roof of said house, and slowly slipped down until reaching the upper window.
And they landed softly upon a twenty-two-year-old young man’s face, who had taken the attic of the house to turn it into his room.
His eyes would always open softly but quickly under the light, as if though sleeping was only an obligation and he decided to interrupt it as soon as the day asked him to, in a perfect natural schedule. And so, he would go into his routine: sick and tired of it, but comfortable in it nonetheless. Sit up. Stretch quietly. Clean himself. Get his glasses. Comb the hair back. And as he woke up with the sun and it would still be relatively early for breakfast, he would take a nest, tiptoe downstairs and across the living room, take his small bag of money, and exit.
That was when the rest of town woke up: almost in a monotone, precise and exact clock, activity in town would start at the same time he closed the door of his house.
Windows flew open, and the ladies behind them would greet each other as they shook cloths and rugs in the air. All the shops would open their windows and doors, and the people would start crowding around in their usual activities, all regarding cleaning something, buying things or heading places.
Light haired and with gracious steps, the young son of the man that lived in the house on the tiny hill walked through the town, oblivious to the people’s stares upon him. Basket in hand and coins safely trapped between his belt and his immaculate white shirt, he walked in entire focus on reaching his destination with no distractions.
“What a strange guy that is, isn’t he?”
“What a weird boy, indeed” some people.
“He behaves even more formally than his uncle or cousin.”
“It’s almost like he’s royalty, if there was some” the commentaries of every day.
“There he goes, odd and gracious like always. Good morning, sir.”
“Morning, my lady.”
“Who, mommy?”
“The man over there, nearby the bakery, sweetie. Ignis Scientia.”
“Scientia? As in the son of the mayor?”
“No, the mayor’s nephew. Good morning, over there” a mom and her child, and some distractions in between.
Ignis, the mayor’s nephew, and son to an odd inventor, standing by the bakery and requesting for two pieces of bread. In reality, he was not oblivious to the way people stared and he was not deaf to what they said behind him, but he had grown too used to that to consider it important or out of the ordinary. It was like listening to them talking about the weather, like he was not the Ignis everybody talked about.
“He’s too well behaved to be son of the inventor.”
“I need 12 eggs!”
“That’s too expensive, are you sure?”
“He’s always reading something; what is the point? How do you earn money out of reading? Poor man, has yet not grown up.”
“And still, he behaves as if twice his age: formal, kind, smart.“
“What is this guy? Why hasn’t he married yet? What with being so gorgeous.”
“The good looks don’t take from one the uptightness and rudeness, my lady.”
While other people discussed on whether he should be married or not, Ignis was busy thanking the baker, who, by his part, was too busy yelling at his son to hurry with the rolls to reply. Not minding the behavior and yelling of everyday, the young Scientia smiled briefly and walked away.
“He’s strange, no doubts.”
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning. How is your family?”
“He’s never hanging with more people. Never part of a crowd. But he doesn’t seem to mind, hm?”
“How much for this tomato?”
“Good morning, over there. How is your wife?”
“And there he goes again, into the bookshop. Does he not get tired? Do you think he’s feeling well?”
“He may behave like a prince, but he’s still the inventor’s son. What were you expecting? Anything but ordinary, that’s for sure. How much for this apple?”
“Good morning, miss Liber” Ignis greeted softly, the ringing of the little bells of the doors musicalizing his words as background.
“Good morning, Ignis. What can I do for you today?” miss Liber, an old lady still in shape and constant activity around her bookshop, asked. She cleaned her hands on her soft dress as she approached him with a smile.
“I came to give you back the books I borrowed last week” Ignis smiled as he took said objects from the nest he was carrying, already too well acknowledged with the shelves’ order to need of orientation, and looked for their right place himself.
“I know you’re a fast reader, Ignis, but I doubt you tried all the recipes in about a week” miss Liber laughed softly at the end of her sentence, standing and watching as Ignis climbed onto the stairs of a shelf to put the second book back where it belonged to. “That is, unless you cook ten times per day, boy.”
“Oh, no” Ignis said softly as he came down the stairs, turning to face the lady. “It is not that. I had previously acquired this number of Oric’s Culinary Chronicles: I only needed to borrow it again, seen as I missed to copy down a few important ingredients needed for one my father’s favourite meals.”
“Ah, yes, your dad” miss Liber smiled carefully, nodding. “How is he doing?”
“There has not been any change, not up nor down” Ignis replied with a his usual serious look upon his face, taking another one of the books nearby to start skipping through its pages. “The doctor said that so long we don’t expose him to too much stress or cold or other sort of shocks we should be seeing some progress. That’s the best we can expect from a non-curable illness”
“Not curable, but it is treatable” Miss Liber reminded him as if he did not know himself. “Don’t you worry, Ignis; you’re the most wonderful son Caleo could have asked for.”
Said that, she got closer to him and gently took one of his hands, massaging it very softly with her thumbs.
“You wake up early to prepare him breakfast with the freshest ingredients every day, you buy him the best medicine no matter the cost, sacrificing even your own desires for it, and you have never left his side when young men like you usually feel the need to leave and explore the world” Ignis stared down as she listed, but there was a tiny, subtle smile in his lips. She patted the back of his hand. “You are a very good son, Ignis…may the Astrals pay you back one day.”
“So long my dad can live happy and relatively healthy, it’s not a sacrifice, miss Liber” Ignis stated. “That would be the only thing I could ask from the Astrals.”
Miss Liber nodded at him with a sweet glance. None said anything for a moment, before Ignis held up the book he had previously taken.
“I know I might have become bother by now, out of every time I come into your store, Miss Liber, but…if I may…”
“You know what, Ignis?” the old lady replied with a sly smile. “Keep it.”
“Miss Liber” Ignis raised the eyebrows in surprise. “But…”
“You love the kitchen, Ignis” she said and let go of his his fingers to put her hands on her waist. “And nobody ever looks at those books except you. Keep it.”
Ignis took some moments before he smiled a bit more widely than the usual in him and put the book in the basket he was carrying, before he presented a solemn nod of the head to the lady in front of him.
“Thank you greatly, miss Liber.”
“It’s okay, Ignis” she chuckled. “And stop being so formal; your uncle may be mayor, but that doesn’t force you to be uptight the whole time. You’re 22. Enjoy of your life!”
He furrowed the eyebrows but kept the smile as he went back to the door.
“I shall try. Good morning.”
“Good morning, Ignis! Send my regards to Caleo!”
After thanking her again, Ignis exited and closed the door behind him. He gave an innocent glance at three ladies that were standing in front of the window to the bookshop, all staring away of him as if embarrassed and keeping a secret, and, for a reason he really did not grasp despite the obvious, all blushing. He, kind almost by an obligated nature, greeted them with a Good Morning as he left.
The three sighed and regrouped to share a screech of excitement, as quiet as they could make it. They failed on discretion, but it was not like Ignis noticed either.
“Isn’t he dreamy?”
“What a shame he’s so cold and serious. I want a husband, not a second dad” a little laughter.
He left towards the marketplace, and shared a few more random conversations every now and then. They either asked him for news on his uncle (they tended to pressure him like he was the mayor and not just an unimportant family member of said man) or tried to earn some conversation from him about subjects Ignis either did not quite understand or was not interested in.
“Poor guy…he tries hard, but for some reason he just doesn’t fit in.”
“You should be more patient with him. He tries.”
“Trying never got anyone anywhere. He should get adapted; it’s easier one guy gets adapted rather than a whole town adapts to him.”
“Good morning, Ignis! How is your dad?”
Of course, the third most treated subject Ignis dealt with, every day. He shared some conversation on the matter with the man of the vegetable stall while he, at the same time, checked on some tomatoes.
“You’ve always taken him to the doctor, but have you tried with the Healer, Ignis?”
Ignis picked the tomato on his left hand. It was fresher than the one on the right, which he left back on its place. The doctor had kept it clear that the fresher and better the food Caleo consumed the better it would be for his health.
“Healer Izunia is a very busy man” Ignis replied distractedly. “He has checked on my dad once or twice…but I prefer to stay with the doctor.”
“Whatever you want, Ignis” the man of the vegetable stall replied in a raspy voice. “But you should consider the Healer’s abilities. He can do anything.”
Ignis did not reply.
After buying what he needed and paying to everyone he needed to, he hurried back home, without running.
The fresher the ingredients, the better it would do to his health, the doctor said.
--
“Well, well, well, isn’t this Ignis Scientia on the go?”
Ignis looked up when he heard the familiar voice from a side. He turned to find his blonde friend standing there, smiling like always, crossing her arms by her chest and looking up at him sweetly, sisterly.
“Good evening, Cindy.”
“Evening” she greeted and got closer but rounded Ignis as if he was not as important as the bag he was carrying on his shoulder. The young man did not mind and just let her do as she basically jumped on him to take the bag and lower it, open it and take a peek of the inside. “What’re you doing now? Buying more stuff for your good ol’ man?”
“Indeed” Ignis nodded, letting her slightly hyperactive friend looked into the bag and mess with the gadgets in there.
Cindy was a terribly curious girl with a passion for devices, gears and constructing stuff. Would she have the hair darker and the eyes a different shade of green had she passed perfectly fine as Ignis’ dad’s real daughter, inventor and inventor. Sometimes Ignis wondered if there had not really been a mistake in the universe and it accidentally put him where Cindy was supposed to be; Ignis was terrible for inventions, and he was way too serious in contrast with his dad, who was…well, more like Cindy.
“He sent me to town for a few pieces he needs for the machine” Ignis commented after a few moments in silence in which he guessed his friend was expecting for an answer.
“Ah, right” Cindy blinked, toying with a too-big screw she found in the bag. Ignis was looking at her from over his shoulder, but she did not pay attention; her mind was busy on the gadgets. “The one he’s presenting in a few days, huh?”
“The very same one.”
“Huh, wish I could give him a hand. Makes me curious” she said while toying with a little spring as if though it was the latest in technology. “Are you going with him, Ignis?”
“I am still trying to convince him” Ignis’ eyes went down at the comment, and his eyebrows furrowed very subtly. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before continuing. “My cousin is out and won’t be back in time to attend the ceremony of a few days at the hall.”
“So?” the question sounded as if Cindy already knew the answer and was only trying to make Ignis reconsider what he was to say next.
“My uncle needs a second hand” Cindy sighed shortly at the words. “I am required to take the role in the cases my cousin is unable to attend for any reason”.
“But it’s your dad, Ignis” Cindy reminded him. Like the man was not feeling guilty enough already. She left the things back in his bag and rounded him to face him this time, hands on waist and worry on the eyes. “He’s…I know you don’t need to be reminded of it as often, but he’s a bit sick.”
“He’s very sick” Ignis corrected her. “Still, so long he doesn’t pressure himself, he should be fine. I worry nonetheless, but I also trust everything will be alright” he gave a half nod, and his voice deepened a bit. “It’s a journey of one day only before he reaches Northeastern Insomnia. It’s okay.”
Cindy looked at him some moments, and then she rolled the eyes with a ‘Pft’.
“You’re too perfect as a second hand, Ignis” she stated. “Giving everything up just to take some notes for your uncle when it even isn’t your duty, even when that kills you of stress and worry, and doing it without a complaint…”
“I wish to be of service to the people of town if I can.”
“Your dad is one of them” she reminded him, pointing at him with a finger. “But I understand, Spectacles Boy” Ignis adjusted his glasses by reflex; he was a bit embarrassed whenever Cindy called him that. “I don’t agree with your extreme sense of service, but I understand. I admire you. You’re like the perfect figure of a king’s second hand of fairytales.”
Both started walking side by side.
“I will accept that as a compliment.”
Cindy gave him a small nudge, and he smiled down at her; Ignis never said it, but he was thankful for having her as a friend. Even the hit of an elbow felt like a token of appreciation, so long they came from her.
“You’re an idiot, Spectacles Boy” she smiled back. “But I meant it. I admire you.”
--
“Father?”
Ignis toyed with a small compass he held in hands. The basement smelt like dirt and humidity, and it still looked like a mess: everything was in order, for Ignis had not controlled himself a few months ago and cleaned up and put everything somewhere right, but there were just too many things of a wide variety; despite the existing order, this ridiculous quantity of stuff made it look like a chaos.
“Yes?”
“Do you think…I’m weird?”
Ignis' dad, Caleo Scientia, was known as the town’s inventor, but he was more of a mathematician. The title of Inventor first appeared as a way of making fun of him: he did try every now and then to invent something, despite it not being his main branch of study, but he was incredibly famous by failing at everything he tried to build. Mathematician and academic in general, the man had very poor skills with the hands; he could build but could not make things work. That was the reason the people of town started acknowledging him as “the inventor”, despite not being the only one in town.
Caleo, too loyal to and too in love with the people of town, had thought they were praising his hard work, and accepted the nickname as a compliment and motivation to keep on giving his best into it.
“Weird?” Ignis heard his dad laugh from under the medium sized machine he had been working on for the past 2 years. “Where did you get such ideas, Ignis?”
“I don’t know” Ignis sighed softly, resting his lower back against the table behind him, taking a small wrench and starting to throw it up just to catch it as it fell. “I am aware that people speak no matter how great one develops in life, but I sometimes feel that I have become a…usual subject of conversation.”
Caleo Scientia started coughing. Ignis stopped toying with the wrench and only listened. The coughing grew worse. Before Ignis acted, Caleo stopped coughing and went back to work. The older man, however, soon slipped from under the machine and sat up, looking up at his son with curious eyes.
“And since when do you care about what they say about you?”
Ignis looked at his dad. The man was sick, not agonizing: he could stand, walk and even run on his own. He just had a very poor resistance; grew tired very soon and easily, and sometimes he had breakdowns; he could act relatively normal, but at random times he could fall out of weakness. His heart had some troubles. His immune system was poor. He did not need to stay in bed the whole day, but he still needed to be constantly watched over, just in case. And still, he looked…normal. A bit older than he really was, a bit too tired for the relatively calm routine he held, but he did not look like dying.
Ignis snapped out of his thoughts and his attention went back to the wrench, fidgeting with it in his hands.
“I don’t care” Ignis shrugged slightly. “I just…had the sensation that I don’t quite fit in. It is not new, but…I feel strange sometimes.”
“Ignis” Caleo stood up with a groan and a bit of effort. He took some steps towards his son to be standing at his side, and Ignis left the wrench on the table to look at his dad. “The weird one here is me.”
Ignis side smiled at him, eyes slightly down. Caleo smiled back with amusement; if one did not make fun of oneself, life could get complicated, and Caleo liked to leave easy and calm. Opposite to his brother, for example.
“And you are not like me. You’re like your mom.”
Ignis looked up at his dad for a moment, the smile smaller. After a few moments into that, his eyes went down, but he did not look sad…rather thoughtful.
“Brave, smart, loyal…and a bit uptight” Ignis chuckled at that. “But not weird.”
“Like mom” Ignis said softly. “Sometimes I wish I could remember her a bit clearer than I do.”
“Just look at the mirror” his dad suggested, taking a hammer from the table and returning to the floor, this time at a side of the machine instead of under it. “You’re identical to her.”
“Just with a ridiculous haircut, I know” Ignis rolled the eyes, smiling. That was his dad’s usual phrase from whenever he recalled on Ignis’ looks.
“It is sort of ridiculous, son” Caleo said. “All sticking upwards. It’s a mess.”
“What did mom keep her hair like, then?” Ignis asked.
“All the way down, on the front and back” Caleo recalled, and like it was about a poem, he added slow as if reciting: “Long, long, very long.”
Ignis nodded even though he knew his dad was not seeing. Both stayed quiet some moments. Caleo coughed a couple times, but nothing out of what had become the ordinary.
“You know, Ignis” his dad called after he had managed to clear his throat. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you, but when your mother was pregnant, we were almost sure we would have a daughter. I was sure she would be identical to her, so I chose the name for a baby girl. That’s why you’re called Ignis; when it was a boy and I was not prepared for that, your mom only laughed at me and picked a name herself. She was not prepared either, but she thought patiently until coming up with a good name for you. And not that Ignis is for boys only, but the name we had thought about was specifically for girls, so…”
“What a great disappointment it must have had been” Ignis said as a joke, except he was awful at delivering them and usually came out dryly. Caleo, knowing his son by all life, knew this and only laughed softly in response. “What would you have named her?”
His dad took some moments. He needed to stop and cough yet again. Ignis reached for a glass of water and offered it to him. Caleo drank and thanked him before returning to his work. After a few moments, the man sighed and remembered.
“Belle.”
Ignis nodded, slowly. Both stayed quiet some more moments, and after a while, Ignis sighed.
“And was mom disappointed when a boy came out?”
“Not for one single second.”
More silence. A few moments passed by without a word.
“And you?” Ignis asked. “If you could, would you have liked to have raised a daughter?”
“Ignis” Caleo stopped his work again and looked up at his son. “I would not change anything. Not even a single lock of your hair.”
Silence.
“Not even a single lock of your ridiculous hair”
“I shall take that as the greatest compliment you have ever given me, dad.”
Both smiled at each other. Caleo stopped his work only to gift his son a thoughtful look, followed by a small blink dedicated to him, speaking with no words. Ignis smiled at him and nodded, understanding.
The Scientia stayed quiet some moments. Ignis took a mug he had brought with him downstairs and held it with both hands, but he really was not thirsty. He subtly watched as his dad, with some effort, walked across the room to get a small cloth. Ignis kept the eyes on the older man, watching him clean his hands and forehead.
He had tried to take a sip from his coffee, but he only managed to press the mug to his lips. The heat caressed the tip of his nose, and even though he had always loved the smell, right in the moment he was oblivious to it, too focused in his thoughts.
Eventually, as his dad returned to the machine, Ignis put the mug down and could not help his words.
“…I should go with you to the invention fair, father.”
“We have already discussed it, Ignis” Caleo stopped his work again, staying on the ground and looking up. Ignis, strangely, was out of his usual composure; he always walked around as if he was a prince, or like he was a leader that knew perfectly fine what goes where and how to put order, but in home he had no reason to pretend anything. Right there, he was just staring down, looking worried and upset. Looking properly human for once. “I will be fine.”
“It doesn’t feel right” Ignis insisted, quietly. “Every time I think about you leaving alone…something doesn’t feel quite right” he looked up at his dad, but his eyes quickly went down again. “It’s…sort of a presentiment, if I may.”
“Son.”
Ignis looked up when his dad stood up and in front of him. Having reached twenty-two, Ignis had grown taller than his dad. Both Scientia looked at each other, and then, Caleo moved a hand up to take a gentle grip of Ignis’ shoulder.
“I will be fine” it was but a whisper, which only filled the meaning of the words with an intimate sensation Ignis could not ignore. He fought with all his will not to let his eyes water, and succeed. “Trust me.”
Ignis stayed quiet some moments. He stared down again and hesitated a bit. His dad’s hand never moved away; he and his family had never been too much of physical treatment, so the touch meant quite something to him and moved him inside.
Eventually, he nodded.
“Alright.”
Caleo smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder a bit more tightly before letting go of it.
“I’m going to win the competition, you’ll see” the man said as he caressed his own back, groaning in some bothering ache as he went down on his ankles at the back part of the machine, and started fixing some things in there. “When I do, I’ll get the prize” he kept listing. “And when I do, we’ll get the best doctor in all of Eos.”
Ignis blinked.
“And when we do” his dad continued, excited and sighing from the effort, but smiling nonetheless. “We will get a new, greater and brighter beginning of a life.”
Ignis looked at his dad.
The man’s eyes swam in tears, but his dad pretended not by trying to cover that with a huge smile.
“For both of us.”
Ignis stayed quiet. He looked at his dad some moments before he could nod.
“You’ll win, dad.”
Ignis was not worried whether his dad won the competition or not. He just wanted him to go and come back in total safety.
It was not distrust.
It was this terrible presentiment…
--
“Nox is well fed, father.”
Ignis caressed the mare’s forehead lovingly, staring at her with subtle sadness. He watched as his father made sure the machine would not fall from its place on the cart the mare would be pulling from, excitedly. Ignis had been the one to put his dad’s invention on the cart (with a little help from the neighbor), so his dad did not have deal with big efforts. He had asked his dad to not be shy and ask for help once he reached the fair, and kept showering him in instructions; his dad shrugged it all off with a couple of ‘Yes, I know’.
Sometimes, son behaved like father, and father like son.
“Excellent” Caleo sighed as he watched the bulge of his machine under the cloth, proudly. “Well, it seems like everything is its place. I’ll go get the food.”
Ignis watched as his dad left to go inside the house again. The young brown-haired returned his attention to the black mare and continued caressing the forehead.
“Nox” he whispered. “Please, take care of dad. Okay?”
The mare did not reply further moving an ear. Ignis, however, liked to believe that had been an agreement from the animal. He thanked the mare and hugged it. Having lacked a sibling and not getting along with his cousin, Ignis had grown with the mare as an intimate friend. Of course she would be missed. Ignis patted her forehead a last time, and looked at his dad as he came from the door, heading to the cart and dropping the nests of food on it.
Ignis made sure a last time everything was in its place. When everything was ready, he accompanied his dad to the exit of town. Once there, they faced each other for a goodbye.
“Well, I’ll continue from here on my own” Caleo spoke. “Thanks for everything, son. Take care and relax, okay?”
“I will try” Ignis nodded. “You take care.”
“I will” his dad replied. “Good luck at the hall’s event with your uncle.”
Ignis only nodded again. Caleo, watching the hesitation in his son’s eyes, moved a hand up and kept it in between their chests.
“Hey” he called. Ignis looked up form the ground to him again, quiet. “I’ll be fine. The way is all east; there are many signs over the roads. I can’t get lost. I have plenty food cooked by the best chef in Eos. I won’t starve. And I’m feeling alright; I’ve been treated by the best nurse all of my life.”
Ignis, despite the hesitation, could not help a tiny smile.
“Ignis” his dad called again, quietly. “It’s okay. You can’t carry me around all of my life. I have to be independent and grow up and explore the world.”
Ignis laughed at the way his dad joked by reaffirming their positions with Ignis as dad and Caleo as the son. It was rather amusing for both; despite having always put himself as the man of the house, Caleo had had degrading health the past couple of years, which had brought him to become a vulnerable human being, and which forced Ignis to grow up earlier than he should have. Hence the amusing inversion of roles.
The younger man nodded and moved his hand up as well to grasp his father’s. Both squeezed and let go. No hug required: the Scientia were not too much into physical intimacy.
“Good luck, father” Ignis wished. “And take care.”
“I’ll come back with our future in a bag, you’ll see” his dad promised. “I’ll see you in a week.”
Ignis offered his hands as an impulse to make it easier for his father to hop onto the horse, so he could do the less effort as possible. Once on it, Ignis made sure the saddle was alright, and took a step back after patting Nox’s head.
“Take care, dad” the third time he said that.
“Understood, son” his dad said and smiled at him a last time, before gently commanding for Nox to start moving.
The cart squeaked a bit as it started moving. Ignis waved a last time and stood there, in the exit of the town, watching as his father’s figure grew smaller and smaller until he could cover the shadow with a thumb. He stood there until he could literally not be seen anymore.
With a sigh, Ignis tried to calm himself down. Everything was fine.
He turned around and started heading back into town, and straight towards the hall.
He had government work to do.