Dreams of Nobody
Prologue
IN the mist of snow, Roxas stood, licking redundantly at his lips; his tongue felt dry as it brushed againsted the cracks of his chapped lips. His eyes were weary, his body in a daze to flow along with it. His slender structure positioned itself to withstand the snow glittering the mountain he stood upon. The cloth he felt brushing along had been the one and only unique fabric of his Orginization XIII cloak. The relentless mist of a snow storm matted his golden hair with its white glitter, splitting strands of hair so it could pass through.
His hair violently swayed in reaction to the speed of the snow slicing through it. A pattern of hair fell, bending down and covering his right eye just slightly, leaving some of it visible. Glancing around he only wondered where he could be. The only conclusion he could find was that he had in fact been on top of the blizzard-cursed mountain peaks of the Land of Dragons. Taking few steps, Roxas swore to himself the noise of footsteps he heard had not been just his own. Snapping his boddy in a one-eighty turn, he witnessed the appearance of a curious figure. The slender, feminine structure gave him a reminder of a few of the former fellow members of the Orginization. The figure sported the same uniform Roxas did, weilding a rose-matted scythe that had a unique, pinkish-violet blade.
Reaching into his memories, he could only remember one member of the Orginization that had this same scythe, Marluxia. Stepping back, a slow materialization of the two keyblades Oathkeeper and Oblivion occurred. One was white with an angelic design, the other a polar opposite. Oathkeeper was light, Oblivion was dark, the yin and yang twins of symmetrical irony. Oblivion had a dark, wicked design with a symbol of darkness as the shape of the end of the blade. The two keyblades floated gracefully into Roxas' hands, his immediate motor skills for fighting engaging. He took a defensive position and roared at the assumed-to-be Marluxia, "You...You're dead. You are supposed to be dead!". The figure did not respond, only remaining silent as it slowly closed the far distance the two had made for each other.
The oddity of the situation could only be the situation in its entirety. Why were they there? Why had they both been ready to fight each other so easily without parlay? It wasn't like Marluxia could answer in the state he was in, all silent and homicidal. The scythe-weilding boy swung his scythe, attempting to decapitate Roxas though in vain. Roxas ducked down, sweeping Oathkeeper across the foe's ankles, sending him to his feet and using Oblivion to disarm him. Roxas had tried to stand over Marluxia, but white, thorn-matted vines bursting from the ground, entangling Roxas and pulling his keyblades from his hands. The vines extended, slamming the golden-haired keyblader against the compact snow mounds. A small crater had been formed under Roxas, disorienting him for just enough time to allow Marluxia to grab his scythe and rush forward in a lunge.
Roxas rolled back onto his feet, summoning his keyblades back into their respectful hands. Twiddling his fingers, Marluxia interrupted his own lunge, spinning his scythe with a mastery of coordination. Roxas retreated a few feet away, avoiding the deadly manuever. The foe used his own weapon as a fulcrum to pivot himself forward into the air. In a whirl of movements, Marluxia brought his scythe down, solidly planting it into the ground but not without creating a massive crater. Roxas jumped diagnolly to the left of his foe, using agility to survive and retaliating by striking his side with Oblivion. The pretty-body used the impact to swing around the pole of his scythe, whirling around until he reached where it was planted.
He then took the scythe and unsheathed it from the snow. With deadly swings, the two clashed with each other to and fro, Marluxia using his body as a fulcrum for his scythe to manuever and whirl around and Roxas using daring sword-play to counter the onslaught of expert scythe use. Roxas, in order to stop the tiring clashing, held his keyblades in an x-position, stopping the scythe which had previously whirled over Marluxia's shoulders. Roxas lifted and pulled back his keyblades, using the fact Marluxia wasn't gripping his scythe as an advantage to disarm him. In reaction, the pretty-boy summoned five assassin-class nobodies to assist him with his troubles. The wing-like blade-arms of the assassins flailing along as they swirled in the air, attacking Roxas in an organized pattern.
The keybearer charged the mystical aura of magic throughout his keyblades, firing in repitition a powerful caster of Fira and Blizzara through Oblivion and Oathkeeper respectively. The assassins were halted, even blasted into the snow. This allowed Roxas to rush foward and launch into the air, releasing the ever-powerful Ragnarok; miniature magic missiles spherically dispersing and then concentration on the location of the assassins. The magic missiles homed in and obliterated them, creating a massive trench due to the magic's natural heat. Landing, Roxas hooked his keyblades around Marluxia's ankles, knocking him to the ground. Stepping around his foe, he impaled both shoulders once he reached Marluxia's head. Silver blood spurted out at first, but only trickled afterwards. The silver blood turned into the element of nothingness not long after it exited the body.
"You. I killed you. I did it before and I will do it again. You're weak. You're powerless. You are nothing. Not even dirt." Roxas spoke the cruel words, proceeding to make his way towards his foe's own scythe. Lifting it from the ground, he inspected the blade, holding the scythe up with merely his right hand. He slowly twirled it, trying to grasp a feel for the weapon. Multi-tasking, he proceeded to return to Marluxia, ready to execute him. First, he stabbed the blade of the scythe into his foe's left knee-cap, pulling back and splitting the bottom half of his leg. He then did the same to the other leg.
After, he tore his foe's left arm from his body, which had already been close to being severed due to the keyblades. The same had went for the right arm, easily being torn since it was only held by weakened tendons. In order to see his foe's face, Roxas tore the hood off, revealing a snow-white, disfigured face similar to that of a dusk's. Zippers formed random patterns but the eyes, nose and mouth had still been covered by the twisted pattern. A rune-like symbol of the nobodies rested on Marluxia's forehead. His hair was the same pattern, just without color. Holding the handle of the scythe close to the blade, Roxas brushed his hands across his foe's hair, whispering "shhh" in a gentle tone. During the fake effort at comforting Marluxia, Roxas impaled his foe's throat, vertically tearing downwards, switching from being gentle to being homicidal.
A wicked smile stretched across Roxas' face, the chapped cracks widening. He almost cut his foe in half, finishing by twirling the scythe in his hands and stopping abruptly, bringing it down to impale Marluxia's head. He twisted it whilst it was inside, spinning it in a one-eighty fashion, mutilating his head. In doing so, he was capable of completely tearing Marluxia in half, the body fading into the element of nothingness. A blinding light peaked down from the sky, tempting Roxas to look.
But then, he awoke.