Enchanted [Final Fantasy XV]

❥ chapter IV

The feeling of something damp and pleasantly cool caressing your face and neck gently roused you from your deep slumber. Sighing contentedly, you burrowed deeper into the bed. You stayed like that for about a minute, just lying there and enjoying this blissful moment, listening to the muffled hustle and bustle outside, before you heartily yawned and stretched beneath the light covers.

"Ah, good, you've woken up," a smooth voice said, breaking your tranquil reverie and startling you wide awake in an instant.

Alarmed, your eyes flew open. You jolted upright in bed, ignoring the mild light-headedness that hit you, and looked around frantically. You were not at all lying on your sofa bed in your studio apartment like you had thought—hoped—you were, but in the lower bunk bed of what looked to be a spacious caravan. And you were not alone, either.

Sitting on a folding chair at your bedside was none other than Ignis. He had a magazine in one of his hands, which he now flipped closed and put on the stool beside his chair, next to a glass and a bowl of water with a dirty washcloth inside. "I didn't mean to startle you. My apologies."

At the sight of the bespectacled man, memories came flooding back to you: the mysterious antiques shop in your hometown; the rumoured magic spell book you had bought there; the true love's spell you had tried out purely on a whim ... But that wasn't all. You also clearly remembered waking up in a desert which you had unmistakeably recognized as the starter region of Final Fantasy XV, meeting the Chocobros—well, technically just one of them—and then passing out cold.

Realization struck you like lightning. None of this had been a lucid dream, vivid or otherwise. There clearly was no denying that now. As surreal and nonsensical as it was, this was very much reality. And this was the second time in a row that you woke up in a different location than where you had fallen asleep—or, well, lost consciousness. (Hopefully, that wouldn't become a habit with you.)

"[Name]? Are you feeling alright?" Ignis's voice laced with concern snapped you right out of your daze.

With a long and heavy sigh of resignation mixed with acceptance, you collapsed back onto the bed, briefly closing your eyes. "I think so, yeah." You turned your head to look at him. "I really am in Eos, aren't I?" you asked. You already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear it spoken aloud.

"Yes, of course you are," he replied as if it was obvious, and looked at you accordingly: with a tilted head and a raised eyebrow. "You're at Hammerhead, a service station in Leide, to be precise." Motioning you to sit up again, he handed you the glass of water.

Upon feeling the cool drink in your hands, you noticed that you were parched. Thus, without further ado and disregarding all good manners for the time being, you emptied the glass in a few big gulps, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand afterwards. "Ah, that hit the spot! Thank you."

Lightly shaking his head to himself—whether in amusement or disapproval, you couldn't tell—he took the glass from you and put it back on the stool. "You're welcome. It's good to see you're feeling better."

"So, uh, what happened? How long was I out cold? The last thing I remember is that I keeled over."

"You fainted from heat exhaustion around half an hour ago. We brought you here to treat you as best as we can, and I took the liberty of laundering your clothes and acquiring new ones for you while you were unconscious."

The mention of your clothes prompted you to throw off the covers to take a look at yourself. Indeed, you were no longer wearing your favourite oversized hoodie and baggy fleece sweatpants, just the embroidered sweatshirt and woollen leggings you had donned underneath, and their sleeves and legs were rolled up. It was no surprise that you had been sweating buckets earlier, what with you wearing so many layers of warm clothes in this weather.

Then again, you couldn't have expected in any way, shape, or form to be thrown from your world (where it was the middle of winter, mind you) into that of a video game—your favourite video game of all times, no less—and on top of that, straight into the hot and dry environment of Leide, of all places. Why couldn't it have been Duscae or Cleigne?

"Cindy, the head mechanic, was kind enough to give me a change of clothes that should fit you," Ignis continued, drawing your attention back to him just in time to see him gesture towards a neatly folded stack of clothes on the bunk bed across from yours.

You got out of bed to inspect the outfit this Cindy had picked out for you: short jeans overalls splattered with what looked to be motor oil; a sleeveless crop top whose yellow colouring was sun-bleached; and a pair of brown, lace-up ankle boots. In other words, the outfit didn't cover much skin.

Oh well, you had worn less on a sizzling summer day before—not exactly in public, though, rather in the privacy of your own home. But you would make do. After all, you were really in no position to refuse the clothes Cindy had so generously lent you, even if they were a bit too revealing for your liking. Maybe you would ask her for a jacket or the like later ... though you didn't want to impose on her kindness.

Ignis cleared his throat. "I'm afraid those are the only clothes around your size that Cindy could spare. I apologize for the inconvenience."

"No, no, it's perfectly fine! At least I won't run the risk of fainting again because I sure won't swelter in these clothes," you joked, eliciting a somewhat awkward smile from the slim man.

"I suppose you're correct." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Anyhow, I advise you to change into them after you've taken a shower to cool off and freshen up. The bathroom is over there," he added, pointing to a door at the far end of the caravan, next to the front door.

"Will do. Thank you very much for everything." You smiled at him.

"Don't mention it. I will take my leave then." With these words, he stood up, taking hold of the folding chair with one hand and his magazine with the other. "Do let me know if you need anything. I'm going to sit outside and ensure the others won't bother you."

You threw a quizzical glance over your shoulder as you grabbed your new clothes. "What do you mean?"

"They're all eagerly waiting for you to come to. If I hadn't locked them out of the caravan earlier, they would be besieging you right now. You needn't hurry," he reassured you when he saw the troubled look that crossed your face. "They will simply have to wait a little longer."

"Are you sure it's alright?"

"Yes, I am. Your well-being is far more important than their childish impatience." He shifted the folding chair under his arm. "Please come meet us outside when you're ready. We would like to have a talk with you if you don't mind."

You had a pretty good idea of what the Chocobros wanted to talk to you about, namely the circumstances and consequences of your sudden and curious arrival in this world—something which you yourself could only make guesses about. Nonetheless, you answered, "Sure, no problem."

Ignis gave you a polite nod of the head and then left the caravan. Hardly had he closed the door behind him did a small commotion arise outside. The unintelligible babble of voices talking over each other was quickly cut short by his stern rebuke, "She is not ready yet, and you will leave her alone until she is," followed by him shooing who you assumed were Noctis, Gladiolus, and Prompto away.