A/N: Shout out to Lorelei, who put in the time to research lisianthus, which are flowers that look similar to the ones found on Eraqus' wreath.
Also to Lyssa for being my emotional support animal.
I wouldn't have carried on without your support and your listening ear, so thank you for your patience and understanding. 333
And OF COURSE to Eli who was my beta for this. Your spouts of genius were needed to make this happen and I'm so grateful.
Thank you.
Aqua knew (rationally) she was safe in her bedroom.
The lamp on her bedside table and the ceiling light were both on. Her closet was closed shut. A white sheet draped over the vanity mirror - so her reflection couldn't bother her. She may not be able to see the shadows under her furniture, but she did frequent checks under bed and dresser to make sure nothing was stirring. And after the hours ticked by she understood that there was, truly, nothing. Now she questioned whether she was relieved or disappointed.
By this point, her patience had sunk to her feet and there was no cure for the stillness.
Thankfully, she heard a soft tap on her window. Several more followed, raindrops trickling down her window panes. Judging by how sparse they were, it was misty outside.
If anyone had seen her, they'd notice how desperately she tore the window open, breathing the scent of a fresh mountain morning in the middle of the night. The fog was thin, but enough to blanket the castle and block the stars from view. Her arm reached out into the sky, catching droplets. They were so cold, they tickled as they splattered upon impact.
The Realm of Darkness did its best work in making her numb to all sensation, usually leaving just bare minimum to trick her into enduring for just a little longer, and yet taking it all away so that she wouldn't go crazy.
Feeling the mist was a welcome sign that for one, she was alive, and two, she was free. And she already knew this, too. They had all been back in the Land of Departure for weeks now. Yet she needed the reminder. The feel of the rain on her skin was so foreign now, it was almost new.
She decided it was a good excuse as any not to keep this to herself.
Her boys did her the favor every night of turning the lights on in the castle in the most common areas. Ventus would make laps to power them, Terra took the duty very late at night to turn them off once everyone else was asleep. The halls, the intersecting ones included, illuminated so brightly, the only shadow she could see was her own.
Voices trailed off from Ventus' room. Laughter, pleads. What sounded like jokes. His door was slightly ajar, and she peeked in.
It wasn't a surprise that Terra was shoving Ventus down into the pillow, using his face like a lever.
"Ven, have mercy. I'm tired." Terra plopped into a lounge chair, resting his foot at the edge of the bed.
Ventus had the decency not to spring back up, but he rolled over to lean closer, finding reasons to keep going. "But did you think about what I said? About Merlin?"
"Yes." There was no effort in hiding his amused annoyance.
"And?"
Terra didn't face her, but she felt his eyes rolling and his smile pulling. "I'll tell you in the morning."
"Oh, come on." He squirmed, begging Terra to stay when he stood up.
"You could make it easier for yourself-"
"I hate tea." It was usually the suggestion: drink herbal tea to calm the nerves.
Terra snorted. "Then count sheep." He was closer to the door, his voice louder.
"That sounds really boring."
"That's the point."
It was then that Ventus' face fell, knowing his night was cut short. Aqua stood back as she felt Terra approach, not wanting to see him flick the lights off. She heard a gentle, yet firm "good night, Ven" before his face made its way through the doorway.
A benign smile graced it. Terra always carried himself with a gentleness that betrayed how intimidating others thought of him. Even when he joked around. "Do you need to be tucked in, too?"
"A six-year-old me would've loved that." She pressed her ear to the door. Ventus rustled in his sheets, sighing. He hasn't improved much in getting rest, and they were out of options. "I wish I could cast Sleep on him."
"Master Aqua wants to give her apprentice a magic addiction." It earned him a swat on his chest. "He'll be fine. Hearing us talk will calm him down."
Because it told him they would still be around when he closed his eyes.
When they first came back, they were happy to stay up and talk the night away, not stopping until their bodies gave up. Soon after, when the lack of rest affected them too much, Terra and Aqua took turns staying by his side until he slept, just so he was sure he wasn't going to be left alone.
"Do you think maybe we should get him a companion?" she asked.
"Like a pet?" He eyed her, waiting for her response first before giving his input. Normally, deciding changes in the castle was up to Master Eraqus. They kept forgetting they were its keepers now.
"Maybe not." The Master usually refused to bring in an animal, and it felt like betraying his memory to suggest such a thing.
"He's strong. He just needs time." Terra's voice softened, steadfast.
That was always the assumption. Time was a special kind of magic that would heal them. That would make sleep come. That would turn them back into the Keyblade wielders they all wanted to be. But they were still waiting.
"He checks in on us in the middle of the night to make sure we're still here," she said.
Terra let out a long, exasperated sigh. His eyes said it all. Seriously?
She nodded. Seriously.
"We'll figure it out," he assured her. "What about you?"
She crossed her arms. "I'm fine."
"Okay," he said with all the benefit of the doubt that he could give her and yet with the knowledge she was lying.
It must have been how she pursed her lips that gave her away. "It's nothing. I just… I can't sleep, either."
He chuckled breathily, pinching his tired eyes. "I appreciate that you don't beat around the bush. Come on, let's take care of you."
When they entered his room, his first order of business was to fling a random sheet that he didn't bother to fold over his mirror. Then he kicked a pile of clothes that were in the way into his bathroom, where the lights were off, and closed that door.
"My room is now darkness-proof," he teased.
A steaming pot of tea he brewed for himself waited for him on his desk, right alongside another heap of clothes, open books stacked on top of each other, several pens that he kept piling for every time he lost one, and deodorant. He poured into his mug and handed it to her.
"One of these days, I'll make you regret saying that." Apple, with a hefty sum of lavender and chamomile, and a small dash of mint; no sugar. She may be the better cook, but Terra always made the best teas.
"Please, you're too nice to me to try." He took his mug out of her hands and drank a huge gulp like he needed it just as much.
She swatted at him. He caught her wrist. Terra engulfed her hand in his while he kept the other stretched across her forearm in an effort to warm her up.
"Why are you so cold?"
She stopped herself from laughing, but it still escaped through her nose. It was the arm she let outside. "It's raining."
He understood. His large hands caressed the cold away, and he didn't say anything in return. She didn't have to explain herself either.
Twelve years too long with all feeling stolen from them gave them a perspective they only shared with each other. The smallest things imaginable – a bright color, the smell of coffee, the taste of toothpaste – was a new adventure that for anyone else was negligible.
Much like the feel of his calloused palms on her skin. It gave her goosebumps, and he lingered even when she wasn't cold anymore.
Aqua moved closer to slip an arm around his waist. Being enveloped in his warmth suddenly made it okay for her to breathe. The pressure on her back as he pulled her in, the weight of his head on hers – these were the smaller things they took for granted beforehand, when friendship made these gestures seem trivial. And they were still friends - maybe something more, but the sorts of conversations she'd have to start to get them there always made her wonder if it was too much too fast. If she was even ready for it.
They hadn't even started a routine for Keyblade training yet. They hadn't talked about what they were going to do with their lives, or whether to consider Terra a Master or how she was going to teach Ventus. Nothing was normal anymore, and maintaining the friendship that she missed so much was the closest thing.
She was grateful there were at least some things that could be done instead of saying anything. Like holding him. They could wait in between friendship and something else and enjoy it anyway.
In this ambiguity, they could pretend the nights weren't dark and nothing ever happened. And she hoped disillusion would be gentle when it throttled them back into reality.
"I'm waiting," he said. She felt his smile in her hair.
"For what?"
"For you to tell me what it is you need."
She scoffed, holding him tighter. If only her bed was this comfortable. "I want to sleep here." She pulled away from him, but not far enough so that she was still in his arms. "I couldn't ask for that, though. I can't let you turn the lights off."
Terra replied the only way Terra would – with an encouraging smirk. "I don't mind."
"No, really, it sucks to sleep with them on."
"I highly doubt my lamp will burn through my eye sockets." His smile didn't change but it was getting obnoxious and she realized she really hated to need.
"Terra-"
"Aqua." The way he said it warned her he was ready and willing to drag this for as long as she was. Then he softened. "I want you to stay."
He only let her go to lazily arrange his sheets before getting into the bed and making space for her. Aqua considered for a second if she could tolerate the darkness for his sake, but the nausea in her stomach wouldn't allow it.
"Aqua," he repeated, patting the mattress.
Raindrops patted on his window, but they were so soft they were quiet against the sound of his comforter wrapping around her. His warmth was better than all of the layered blankets she could pile. She buried her face in his shirt, focusing on the scent of sandalwood and using his pecs to keep her eyes away from the light.
He rubbed her back, and she lessened the tension in her shoulders. This wasn't the first time she slept on his bed. They used to slip into each other's rooms to finish conversations on their pillows when the Master barked at them to go to bed. Holding him this close was certainly a milestone.
It was probably the first time she relaxed today. She wasn't sure; she wasn't the best at keeping herself in check.
But she braced herself when his door opened.
And Ventus threw himself so hard onto the bed that Terra groaned when he buckled under the weight.
"Thought you could lose me so easily?" The grin on Ventus' face was impish.
She wanted to throw him out for interrupting, but she couldn't bring herself to reject him.
"Ven," Terra snapped, angrier than she was to have the moment disturbed. "I can't believe this."
"Your bed is the biggest for a sleepover." Ventus scooched over to Terra's other side, wiggling for room.
It disappointed her to feel Terra roll over to lie on his back, but he pulled her by the waist to keep her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, letting herself smile at Ventus who was making himself comfortable on Terra's bicep.
"Ven, you're always wanted," she said, knowing who would be the one to get annoyed.
"I know I am." Something about the way he said it told her that he probably knew what was going on between his best friends.
"Shut up and sleep." Terra poked at him, not caring to look where he was aiming.
Ventus snickered as he swatted away.
Terra grunted to all of his incessant requests for conversation.
No one bothered to ask why all the lights were on.
Aqua didn't remember the last word she heard.
She woke up alone.
The bed was cold in the areas she didn't occupy. She was carefully tucked in, and they had the courtesy to leave the lights on while they let her catch up on sleep, all of which faded under the sun shining through the window.
The second best thing Aqua looked forward to since leaving the Realm of Darkness was being able to eat again. Spices, burnt charcoal, savory flavors – all were perfectly good reasons to wake up every day. She even went out of her way to find recipes just to keep herself in the kitchen.
Today's dinner was special: red pork stew boiled with corn, left to simmer for several hours in a mixture made of chili peppers.
She rubbed her arms against the blue silk robe she was wearing as she wallowed in the aroma, the fabric like a soft cloud against her skin.
There was at least three more hours before it finished. Smelling it was so intoxicating, she didn't bother to react when she heard footsteps passing through the dining room, making their way to the stove stop. Terra found his side next to her, moaning as he inhaled the aroma.
"Every time I think none of this is real," he sighed, "food slaps me right back."
Aqua hummed in agreement. "It's the Master's favorite. I thought we could have this to commemorate him."
He smiled morosely. "That's a good idea. Are you making something sweet for him, too?"
"That's hard considering…" She gestured to him. Terra was never a fan of the dessert.
"Lemon sherbet's not bad." Typical Terra. Only tolerated fruits that were sour. "Don't add sugar, please."
His smile grew in sincerity, his mind caught in subjects that were more pleasant. He was well-rested today, his eyes calm as though he didn't have nightmares these past couple of days. If there hadn't been a Keyblade War, or a decade of possession, this was what Terra looked like on a normal day.
Maybe he would be the foundation they needed to keep grounded for a day like today.
She started to disrobe herself. Her boys were used to seeing her dressed this way, or sometimes in a simple shirt and trousers. Hair brushed messily, she was sure. It was the easiest to wear without a mirror.
But she made an effort this morning to dress more appropriately. Under her robe, she wore her usual uniform that represented her status as a student and Master of the academy where she grew up.
"Can you tell me if I look okay?" she asked, fiddling with her straps and checking to make sure her corset was still straight.
Terra first cleared his throat. Which was, also, typical. He was usually defiant when it came to prompts over her looks. Not because he thought it was petty, but because it flustered him. If only he was more direct about it.
He nodded in approval, though with a twist to his smile and a twitch to his left eyebrow.
"I saw that," she said. "Spill it, mister."
"You look like you dressed without a mirror." He spoke with compassion and patience.
They all knew she couldn't bring herself see her reflection, and yet pointing it out was uncomfortable. She messed with her straps again, blind to what she really needed to do, but going ahead with it anyway because it was easier than responding to him.
Terra approached her and adjusted her straps in silence, as if keeping quiet about it helped to hide the embarrassment. He straightened out her sleeves, careful not to squeeze her too much. He looked her over and pulled on one of her hip sashes, measuring them with his hands until he convinced himself they were even.
Standing back up, his gaze went over her head. With one hand on her chin – it was impressive how much he stayed warm - he brushed through her hair with the other. She had forgotten how he looked when he was focused. It wasn't as intense as it would be if they were sparring, but he always let himself get carried away with the same integrity of his furrowed brows as he moved strands that were out of place. When it was this sunny, his dark eyes looked bluer.
Usually, being caught staring at him like this would force her to find excuses to look elsewhere and pretend she was minding her own business. But this time it was comfortable. He became absent-minded in what he was doing and studied her eyes, too. He smiled.
A door closed, and it broke their contact. Terra whispered that she looked good now as Ventus made his way into the kitchen, carrying a large bouquet of wildflowers in one arm and a fistful of wire.
The pause before he spoke was too conspicuous, like he was about to ask what the hell they were doing.
"You guys aren't the only ones living in this castle," he reminded them. Terra shot him a look, but he was proud of what he said. "Is there going to be dessert, too?"
"Lemon sherbet," Aqua said.
He looked as though she just fed him trash and expected him to be okay with it. "You did that for Terra, didn't you? You're such an enabler."
He placed the flowers and the wire onto the island in the middle of the kitchen, and she was grateful to have something to change the subject. The flowers varied through gentle whites and purples, and were soft to the touch. Their fragrance was delicate and faint. They were completely unlike the ones in the Realm of Darkness, which would disappear the moment she approached them.
"They're beautiful," she said.
"They're called lisianthus," Ventus said. "I read in a book that they represent appreciation."
Terra pulled out a butcher's knife to shorten the stems. "They're perfect."
"Thanks." Ventus trailed off, averting his gaze between the wire he was curving and Aqua, who was twisting it around the flowers. What he was going to ask was obvious. "You sure about this?"
"We've already talked about it," was her answer.
Which was an understatement. They had gone in circles discussing it.
She fought for twelve years, and she was tired.
There was nothing in the castle that could harm her, even on the nights when she was terrified she'd be swallowed back to the Realm of Darkness.
There wasn't a point or a reason or a meaning to the fear, and the days she spent locked in her head were taken away from her forever. She wanted them back.
It wasn't necessary for her to rely on the Keyblade. She did summon it – once – on poor Ventus. He didn't mean to sneak up on her like that.
It also wasn't fair to Terra or Ventus, who deserved to memorialize their father figure, too. The longer she kept the Master's Defender, the longer she was stalling.
And she wanted to cook all of her favorite recipes. She was still re-discovering rooms in the castle she had forgotten about. She wanted to smell perfumes, wake up every morning to her friends' voices, remember what it was like when they were companions and nothing else. No fighting. No darkness.
At least until she was ready to carry the burden of the Keyblade again.
"We still haven't found your Keyblade," Ventus said.
That was another thing. She left Stormfall with Xehanort, and she was in no hurry to follow his trail. Especially with Terra. It was too soon to replay the nightmare that caused all of this to begin with. For once it would be good to build a life where Xehanort had no existence or relevance.
"I don't really need it." She tried to sound confident.
"But what if something happens?"
Terra placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Nothing is going to happen, the castle is safe." It didn't prove to be entirely convincing, and before he was interrupted, he continued, "she has us."
It was valiant of Terra to support her, but he did so out of obligation. He had already voiced his own concerns, and was the one most determined to find Stormfall. Because he owed it to her, he had said.
She'd rather he support her by staying safe at home, not thinking about or doing anything related to Xehanort.
What she hated the most, though, was seeing Ventus worry this much. She ran her palm through his hair, offering a lazy smile. "It would be in your best interest if you remember that I can throw a mean kick."
He fiddled with the wire, carefully choosing which flower he was going to pick at next. When the both of them pressured him, he eventually gave in without much leverage of his own. So he joined them on making the wreath.
The sunset was both welcoming and discomforting, as though it was preparing to sleep alongside the Keyblade she was letting go of. In an imaginary world, Eraqus rode it far away, giving them one last gesture of good will. But at least the sun would come back home.
They chose a spot close by the entrance to the castle, on a cliff side where it opened to the mountain ranges beyond. Eraqus was usually the first one to greet each of them, and while they were trained to wake up fresh when the sun rose, they never understood the secret behind his love for mornings. Here, he would be the first to welcome them back. It would also make it easy for them to say hello every time they'd have to leave.
The Defender stood in her hands, and she hesitated. Twelve years was a lot to just leave on the ground.
"Does anyone remember the words?" she asked. Maybe if they treated it like a proper funeral, it would make the closure more real, and she'd be willing to unwind her fingers.
Ventus kept a hard gaze at the wreath he was holding, which was thick and vibrant. A proper crown for someone who deserved to wear it.
Terra cleared his throat, and pursed his lips as he drifted away in thought. He let his mouth hang before he began:
"He awoke the day he was gifted.
The kingdom shone brighter
Under his servitude,
So long as his heart never faltered.
On this day, his star expired.
When the sky goes dark,
He returns. To light,
To rest."
It was a pleasant delivery, a nail on the coffin. But being ready to start a new life didn't make it any easier to tear from an old one. Aqua gripped the hilt harder, bringing it to her forehead.
"I wouldn't have survived without you," she said to it, and fought the tears.
Fruitlessly. She snapped back to reality when Terra rubbed her shoulder.
"He was so proud of you," he said softly, certain it was the truth. And of course it would be, considering he spent the last decade protecting his heart and that of the Master. Whenever he talked about it, he always did so calmly, like he found solace with the Master's heart in the middle of his despair.
She smiled and the remaining tears fell to her lips since they had nowhere else to go. She wanted to say that the Master was proud of him too, but didn't want to come across as assuming. If there was a sense of fulfillment, Terra would already know.
With one final grip, like a good-bye hug, she struck the ground with the tip of the Keyblade, pushing downward to give it just enough security. It still took her time to unwrap her fingers, but with each stroke of movement, she felt the energy disappear. It became a part of her as much as she had given herself to it, blending their energies together in a union. A Keyblade was an extension of their hearts, so there was no denying this one took from hers.
And once she finally let go, that piece of her was gone with the rest. She was still Master Aqua without it and without the Realm of Darkness. But she expected it to make her feel better.
Ventus settled the wreath on the hilt with the gentleness of someone holding a priceless treasure. "I wish we could give him something more meaningful."
"Ven, the wreath is wonderful," she said, sniffling. "What more do you want?"
"I don't know. I just want him to stay."
That was the funny thing about loss. It crept on them even when they understood well enough that it would stay with them forever. For Terra, when he accidentally served an extra plate of breakfast. For Aqua, when she had a question. For Ventus, when he wasn't ordered to stay still.
"You don't think he's still connected to us?" Terra said. "I mean, you can't walk an inch of the castle without remembering him."
It was genius, and he didn't know it.
"Our Wayfinders," she said, pulling hers from her hip. A blue as deep as her will and faith.
"Give them to the Master?" Terra pulled his out of his pocket, dusting it off even though he held it every day. A fiery orange that paled in comparison to his bravery. "They did bring us back together. I actually like to think of them as a lucky charm."
Ventus' was a vibrant green that mixed his youth and reliability. "Aqua was the glue that held us."
"You make that sound so sappy," she said.
"Because it is."
"… Should I have made one for the Master?"
"Well," Terra said, "I think our Wayfinders were there when we needed them. When we were breaking apart."
"Maybe that's the point." Ventus held his out with both hands like he was honoring it. "We won't break apart again, even when we're separated. So we don't really need them anymore."
It was a beautiful thought, and her eyes were wet again. Though she was the only one near tears; she saw her boys slowly lift their spirits like they were finally making strides from all the tears they had shed when they first arrived to an empty castle.
"They could light our way home," Ventus said.
"The Master was home," she said. Perfect.
"And they'll help us find him again," Terra said, "when it's our turn."
When it was their turn, and they needed a guide to wherever they would head next.
That was the agreement. Hold the Wayfinders over their hearts first, before laying them on the wreath. It made the memorial look… complete. Stars to guide them home. Perhaps this was how closure was supposed to feel - released. Finished. Like the end of a good story.
"I think you're better at being strict," Terra said to her as they walked back to the castle.
"Where is this coming from?"
"Someone's gotta lay down the law when we have students of our own. The castle also needs to survive… but I don't think I'm cut out for that kind of job." He crossed his arms and made himself look taller, imitating the Master. "Push the darkness down – give it no quarter in your heart."
His voice was shaky and his intimidation was false, as though he was terrified of scaring the imaginary person he was talking to.
She snorted. "It sounds so weird coming out of your mouth."
"But you can totally pull it off."
Their laughter was contagious, much like how the Master would have preferred it. It was comforting to the point that it took them a while to notice that Ventus wasn't even near them.
In fact, he staggered far behind, talking to himself. No, he was talking to something.
It wasn't until Terra called him over that she saw what he was carrying. A large striped, gray cat, which was completely rare to see walking around in the mountains.
And it wore a cape and a pink coin purse around its neck… not the sight she was expecting right after a funeral.
"You're picking up strays, now?" Terra rested his hands on his hips.
"My name is Chirithy," the cat said. "It's nice to meet you."
She didn't know what was more shocking. Though if she had to decide, it would be the fact that its voice was so high-pitched, it squeaked like two rubbery gears. And that face – so round and unassuming.
"It talks?" At this point, Terra dropped his hands.
"Isn't he great?" Ventus nuzzled the animal(?) and it reciprocated, bouncing in his arms like it had just been reunited with its master after a long day apart. It even included a rolling giggle, like it was being tickled.
"Yeah, but what is he?"
"I am Chirithy," was the answer.
She had no idea what a Chirithy was, and from the look Terra gave her, he was hoping for an answer, too.
"Chirithy…" she said out loud, unsure where to start. "Ven, you're not curious why it talks or where it comes from?"
He shrugged. "He's cool. I like him."
"I was displaced from the war," Chirithy said.
The fact that it had the sentience to even understand there was a recent Keyblade War was astounding. Did its world disappear? Did that mean that they had to help it?
"Chur… Chirrra…" Terra started.
It was exactly like when they met Ventus for the first time. It took a while for Terra to pronounce the name, and until he got it down, 'Ven' was the nickname given. And it stuck anyway.
"He's really cute," Aqua said, noticing just how attached Ventus was. It took two minutes and he was already in love. She wondered how futile it was to discuss whether keeping an animal in such a sacred building would be a bad idea.
Terra sighed, giving up. He pet the cat on the head, deciding that the name 'Cheers' was good enough.
"It's not that hard to pronounce," Ventus said.
"It's okay. I know he's the smart one," Chirithy said. Dryly.
Aqua didn't quite know whether to interpret that as sarcasm, or to question how Chirithy could come to such a quick conclusion over a stranger. Or why a cat-thing was willing to judge so harshly.
Ventus' smile widened, his excitement nearly blinding her. "Can we keep him?"
"Ven, we don't know what it really is," she said. Honestly, it was too adorable not to take it home, but she reminded herself that she had responsibilities, and safety was first on the list.
"I am Chirithy."
She scoffed in response. It was if it wanted her to understand it yet it refused to offer an explanation. It didn't give her the impression that it did so naively, either.
Terra didn't have good advice. "You're the Master. Lay down the law."
The law wasn't exactly built to withstand Ventus, though. And he didn't have to ask. Or even beg with his eyes. It was just his elation: how comfortable he felt around the creature, like he was already planning what they'd be doing together the next few days.
And she couldn't bring herself to break his heart. "Okay fine. We'll keep him."
Ventus decided the first order of business was to give Chirithy a quick tour of the castle while she finished dinner. It was good timing anyway, since the sun was nearly gone.
She heard him say, "we have to turn all the lights on. It's not good for Aqua to walk around in the dark" before his voice trailed off as he ran down the hallway with the creature floating closely behind him.
Terra sat at the bar that formed a barrier between the kitchen and the dining room as she stirred the pot. Several minutes were left before it was finished.
"Have you ever heard of a Chirithy before?" she asked, though she kept her eyes on the stovetop.
"Nope."
"Not in any book?" She whipped around, flabbergasted. She wished she wasn't the only one.
"No. He's pretty tight-lipped, isn't he?"
She walked up to the bar, tracing the random patterns on the marble. "Yeah, I don't think we'll get a straight answer out of him. He's also strangely attached to Ven."
He rolled his lips inward, containing a laugh. "Are you regretting letting him in?"
She slowly shook her head. "I didn't sense a trace of darkness in him."
Which could mean nothing, or it could mean everything. Something made her feel off, even though she really couldn't see the threat.
"I agree." Terra interlaced his fingers, leaning forward. "I also think Ven's heart is in the right place. And it just seemed like… Ven also has attachments."
That was probably it. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Do you think he could be from Ven's home world?"
While Terra and Aqua were able to share stories of where they came from, Ventus was usually left out of such conversations. He simply had no recollection of his origins, and was never able to recover.
Terra brought his hand to his chin. "It's likely." She could hear the excitement in his soft voice. And it made sense. She was excited to learn about this, too.
Ventus' voice slowly made its way back to the dining room, and she counted her blessings that they didn't keep talking about this within earshot.
When he threw the doors open, she immediately asked so as to not look suspicious, "back already?"
Chirithy made its way onto the bar. It was friendly enough, and would be friendlier if it wasn't so formal. "We traversed only this floor. It's quite a homely place. Ventus is scatterbrained but he makes a good tour guide."
'Homely' wasn't a word she would use to describe the castle. While it was home to her, it was lavish enough to intimidate any passerby.
The symbol on its coin purse resembled the shape of a five-pointed star. It was increasingly getting common to find that certain worlds hold this sign dearly, much like she had learned to perceive it.
"Does your symbol mean anything to you?" she asked.
"Light." Its answers were always short and straight-forward, taking away any invitation to let her pry more.
"What do you carry in your pouch, Cheers?" Terra asked, his elbow leaning on the bar.
"Your nightmares."
He laughed. "At least you're entertaining."
Ventus came in between them, his fingers on the edge of the marble, his eyes full of determination like he had a goal to finish as fast as possible. "Terra, you forgot to replace the light bulbs in the entertainment room."
"Which one?"
"The billiards room. The chandelier won't turn on."
Knowing Terra, the exact retort crossing through his mind would be something close to Yeah, Aqua truly needs that room so she could take Cheers drinking, since that was usually where the Master would gather his guests.
But Ventus was so resolute about this, like Aqua would be in danger without these new lightbulbs, that Terra didn't object.
"Yes, sir." He wasn't enthusiastic, and let his groan say so. He dragged his feet, the other two following close behind him.
To be a Keyblade wielder and having the most pressing concern be a burnt fixture. It had to be a sign that things were getting better, since their conversations lately turned into monotony like this instead of what truly haunted them. Admittedly it was sweet that Ventus worried over her so much, though it was ironic how the tables had turned since she used to be the one babying him.
Her attention to the food was only interrupted when she heard a thunderous crash. A rip, like the crumbling of earth. Shattered glass; by the loads of them considering how heavy it sounded.
"Is everything okay?" she called.
Silence.
"Guys?" She stepped down the hall, calling out again in case they didn't hear her.
The hallway itself was bright, showing off the elegance of the castle. But it was so quiet, she could hear the filament above her buzzing.
The only response she received was Chirithy, who appeared around the corner. At first, it didn't say anything, but she noticed its dazed walk.
"What's going on?" Her pace quickened.
"He dreams," Chirithy said, more to itself than anyone else. It was scared. "It's hard to come back."
She sprinted down the hallway, with just one thought in her mind. Terra.
The billiards room. The only light entering it was from the hallway, while the sunlight that should have reached its windows dimmed into dusk.
The chandelier was sprawled all over the ground, the glint of its glass sprinkling across the carpet and all over the pool table. There should be a bar stacked with wine bottles on the other side of the room, but she couldn't make it out in the darkness. Ventus was nowhere to be found.
There was Terra, shivering and mumbling by a table on the far wall, the step ladder collapsed over. He kept grabbing at his face as if to pull something off it, like it kept him from speaking. His armored arm is tense and forced onto the table, and even through this poor lighting, she saw dense shadows dancing around him.
Darkness, emanating from his arm.
She was about to step inside. She needed to. She could see him clearly. But there wasn't a way for her to tell if a portal to the Realm of Darkness opened here, or if there was something waiting to strike.
Her first instinct was to summon her Keyblade but it wasn't with her anymore.
Not that she should care about that when Terra was in trouble.
"What happened?" she heard Ventus say. He approached her, a cart full of new lightbulbs in his arms.
"The- the stew." She waved her arm at him, shooing him into action. "Get the stew. Now."
He followed her orders, taking the box with him as he raced back to the kitchen. Leaving her completely alone, weaponless.
Terra whimpered. Her instinct propelled her forward, throwing herself into the dark to answer him. She remembered she could still fight without her Keyblade, despite how dangerous it was to be so naked in defense. She looked for signs of aggression, ready to attack first.
Which made her sick. The darkness made her sick and now she wouldn't be able to sleep for a while. It was so unfair how she was here, thinking about having to protect herself from Terra. Of all people. Again.
"It was supposed to be an easy fix," he mumbled. It didn't seem like he was saying it to her, but to whatever presence he felt approach him. It was almost like begging, like he was desperate to be forgiven for the mishap. "It was supposed to be an easy fix."
"Terra, you're home," she said. She had one hand out to comfort him, and one hand behind her ready to strike. "You're okay."
"… fix."
"Terra, tell me what you need."
He inhaled sharply, suddenly aware who was talking to him. He voiced more clearly, "can I touch you?"
It would leave her completely exposed to attack. She knew it. She almost expected to see a pair of yellow eyes stare back at her. But she banked on Ventus being her back-up, so she didn't care.
She fully embraced him, her arms around his neck. He held her by the waist, his face buried in the crux of her neck as he gasped and steadied his breathing. His bad arm continued to wedge into the surface of the table, his knuckles bracing hard as if he was afraid of his own limb.
Aqua didn't know how what to say, or how she could possibly shelter such a large man in her dainty arms from whatever scared him. She hated how often they had to pick themselves up over and over again – when would they be allowed to live without so much venom plaguing them?
His breathing slowed, his muscles relaxed some. "I'm sorry," he whispered. His voice still shook.
She rubbed his back. "It was just a stupid lightbulb."
The shadow he casted from the hallway light was large and looming. It stretched, like it morphed Terra's body into a muscular beast. Almost as big as the monster that once stalked Xehanort's Heartless.
No, she shouldn't think about that. Once Terra was fine, they would leave this awful room.
Almost as if to frighten her more, she caught sight of two round, crimson eyes watching her. Up against the wall behind him. Unwavering, bright, hateful.
Until she blinked and they were gone.
She didn't need to hallucinate right now, she needed to get Terra out of here.
Ventus walked in, the smell of chili peppers filling the room as he carried the pot in between his mittens.
The atmosphere changed so much when he arrived, as if the existence of a humble home-cooked meal dispelled the existence of any demon. Unless they were hungry for a woman's hard work.
Terra sighed. "That smells so good."
The pot found a place on the table, which compelled Terra to move his arm away.
Though he kept it by his side, as if touching anything with it would bring it harm.
"Are you okay?" he asked her, acting more like his old self. Though exhausted.
He still held her close by the waist, his grip a little harder as though he was now the one shielding her from whatever it was that lurked in this room.
"Um…"
He didn't need to hear any more from her. He guided her out of the room, back to where it was bright and she could see the gold inlays that swept the castle walls. Chirity stood here, calmly like it was simply waiting for all of them to gather.
Terra immediately closed the door once Ventus walked out, leaving the darkness to fend for itself for tonight.
It was dark only because it was nighttime and the lights weren't working. Not because there was anything really there.
"We're safe now," Terra said.
They weren't. Or they were, she couldn't make up her mind. Aqua stepped forward to trace the doorway with her a wave of her hand, casting a powerful Reflega to seal the way out. If something was in there, it would face pain.
No one commented on her actions.
"What just happened?" Ventus asked.
Terra groaned, his head hanging in shame. Moments like these usually came when he improved the most. "I slipped and pulled on the chandelier. I kind of freaked... It was really just a stupid accident, I'm sorry."
So there was nothing else inside that room.
"There was no darkness?" she asked. She shouldn't, but she needed the confirmation.
"Just mine." His voice hitched. He was still able to channel darkness, his body forced to keep a connection to it from years of being used as a vessel for it. It was something he hated talking about, and he never let either of them learn what this last decade was like for him.
He held her by the shoulder with his good arm. "Let Ven and me worry about the darkness, okay?"
Ventus chortled, jabbing the pot of stew to make a point. "You'll only get to deal with the darkness when I say so."
Her boys laughed, which was a sound she preferred to hear. Although a remark like that was something only Ventus could say. If she had told Terra the same thing, she would only make it sound hurtful.
Maybe she really was the only one to think this was a crisis.
"I'm being ridiculous," she said.
"Are you talking about the Reflega?" Terra shook his head in disagreement. "You do what you need to do."
"What kind of Keyblade Master is afraid of the dark?" she retorted.
"Ours was."
It sounded like the bounce of a metal needle against the vibration of ceramic. While he was soft, the statement was pointedly loud.
"That doesn't bode well for me, does it?"
"No one has the right to expect anything from you, not after what you've been through." His eyes were stern, but his voice tender. "You deserve to give yourself a break."
She wanted to spit about how humiliating the hesitation was. If she was in her right mind, she would have been there for him in less than a heartbeat.
"Darkness is strongest when we're isolated and uncertain," Chirithy said. "It gathers numbers among the blinded."
Shock number whatever for the night: Chirithy enjoyed lecturing, apparently over the nature of light and darkness. Which begged the question as to why it even knew such information, and she vowed to find a book that would explain.
But this didn't seem to make Ventus suspicious, either. "Hmm, that's right. Light is strongest when we're safe and together."
"Yes."
"That means she should hold Terra's hand."
The cat's eyes narrowed, craning its neck to look up. "Why would that-"
"She's happier that way," he said matter-of-factly, and she heard Terra let out the smallest snigger when he failed to keep it to himself.
Ventus didn't have the decency to notice how potent he made the awkwardness. Terra and Aqua avoided looking at each other straight in the eye, and she thought about giving him the most sour piece of the sherbet. But he (eventually) cleared his throat, nudging his head back in the direction of the kitchen.
"Well, now that the crisis is averted," he said, "I'm starving. Come on, Chirithy. You're our guest so you get first dibs."
Then he left them alone to deal with the consequences of his statement, as if his exit wasn't cringe-worthy either. He even quickened his pace to get out of there sooner.
"Is that true?" Terra asked when the sound of footsteps disappeared.
It was a conversation she wasn't ready to have, but it was a welcome distraction. If she braved the darkness, then surely she could show some spine right now. "Yeah. It is."
His grin grew a little wider, and he took the time to process the information. There wasn't a way to be sneaky about it, and saying anything might have made it all the more intimidating.
What was left to do, simply, was to accept that his fingers found the spaces in between hers.
It was pleasantly quiet as they walked down the hall, where they weren't forced to talk about what they were doing. What a difference it made when she allowed him to simply sweep her away from what harmed her instead of doing it on her own – when she could actually let her mind wander. When she could let herself take his elbow with her other hand and there was nothing that either of them had to say to make this moment any better.
But she knew Terra well. What others would have mistaken for tepidness, shyness, a cool nature, or a quiet disposition, she knew exactly what a smug expression on his face would look like as the gears in his mind went to work.
"Don't start," she warned.
"Not to worry, Master Aqua, I'll get you to the kitchen safely," he said, inflecting his voice ever so slightly as though he was helping the elderly cross the street.
Of course. "When I get my Keyblade back-"
"You'll try and kick my ass," he offered.
"You mean I will."
"I mean you will attempt." He glanced at her. "Come on, you'd only feel bad afterward if you did."
"Depending on my mood."
"I'll be prepared." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and giggled like they were still teenagers waiting to grow up.
And she joined, leaning her head on his shoulder hoping that one day they'd do more than just touch. Grateful his eyes were still blue. That he was still home, on a night that didn't collapse.
Laughter was its own special light, brighter than the stars that shone down on the castle, or the electric lamps that led them to a dinner waiting to be consumed. It had the power to make her forget, which was a quirk close to nothing else could boast. Except maybe what they held in between their hands.
She laughed, leaving the nightmare alone by the pool table.