[Prompto will live. That Izunia knows, deep in his gut, even without the confirmation of the ten years that he has that the boy in front of him does not.

And it'ts that thought that gives him something almost resembling determination. Whatever else, he will at least equal the strength it took to survive that darkness.]

Do not despair yet, for the dawn shall come. I churned out a great deal of poetry on that theme, in the latter half of my physical life. In retrospect, some of it was quite horrific and deserves to be lost to time, but a few became proper songs and compositions, and those have a bit more staying power.

[He did warn you that his thoughts are kind of terribly disjointed, Prompto. Another bite of the potato.]

We were named for the sunset, you know. I'm sure the Draconian or someone had a great laugh to themselves about it.