Writer's notes: Birth by sleep-esque fic. Believe it or not, I was at work, cashing in my cheque and all that yesterday when this thought hit me. From there on, I just let my thoughts wander and with a bit of help from Anna Varney Contodea's lovely music, I ...just let my pen wander across my work notebook without making a single planned draft or what so ever XD;;;
xXx
The voices won't stop. A choir sung by the voices of the dead, howled at him.
Even without a voice, a soul, a thought or any trace of humanity left in that rust covered armor, the lone apprentice could tell that the abnormal being before him was in pain. It was hard to tell if it was actually attempting to imitate the act of experiencing physical pain or if it was simply mentally anguished by a troubling thought.
One thing he knew for sure though.
That thing had to die and it was his duty to put it to sleep, eternally.
"I'm not afraid of you!" He declared, gun pointed right towards rust covered metal.
It was a lie. He was afraid. The armor before him threw it's head back to the sand filled skies and the apprentice was sure that had it been granted a form of voice, it would've probably laughed at how pathetic he sounded during his false declaration of bravery.
It laughed, soundlessly through the desert heat.
The apprentice fired several rounds of bullets towards the armor's head. The armor stopped its silent laughter and proceeded to look at the apprentice with hollow, imaginary eyes. The apprentice backed away, firing a steady stream of bullets towards the armor as it moved towards him.
The bullets bounced off the armor's protective layer of metal. Some of the bullets made its way forcefully through the threadbare silk cloak which hung precariously off the armor's pauldron but still, the armor showed no signs of ceasing its approach.
The armor strolled up to the foolish young man. For a 30 year old, the young man sure had nothing much better to do than transverse through the lanes in between for a bit of sightseeing in this wretched graveyard.
"Stay back! I'm warning you!" The apprentice ordered, brandishing an over sized key from thin air.
- Disciple of the key - The armor thought to itself as it observed the weapon her opponent held.
It was shaped like a key but it was a prop. Raw wood, barely containing an ounce of magic or strength.
The apprentice wasn't even ready to call fourth his own personalized weapon. He was simply a foolish man who was far too curious for his own good. He wanted to adventure and he thought he would be fine since he was already an adult by age and so, he summoned his own armor and probably hitched a ride with his friend.
There was probably another moron lurking around the barren landscape somewhere. There had to be if this man couldn't even summon his own keyblade. Logic and memories of a trained master flooded the armor's thoughts momentarily, granting it the bare basic of it's former human knowledge.
The process was painfully slow for the armor but grim determination, the very fuel that allowed its ghost to haunt the very land, made it possible.
Unfortunately, the process was interrupted by a poorly aimed shot lock command of magic. The weak rain of stones pelted harmlessly against silk and chain mail. It came from a higher elevated ground, probably from the numerous cliffs which surrounded the current flat plane they were on.
"Run! Damnit just run!" A voice called out from the armor's left hand side.
A young man in his mid twenties.
Oh, so that was his friend and he had a proper keyblade in hand but he was still a trainee. He was unable to master his shot lock commands and was relying heavily on luck.
Typical newbie.
Before long, his focus gauge was low and he was left with nothing more than his low leveled command decks which barely landed a scratch on the lingering sentinel of a fallen Keyblade Master. The armor pulled a rusted keyblade out from one of the million grave markers nearby. Channeling the power of the sea, it summoned rain from the skies above.
Rain fell in icy thick sheets and they were sharper then any broken glass. The apprentices had no time to make haste as the armor disappeared from sight, becoming one with the rain, washing away the blood, footprints and all the evidence of its kill.
Tonight, the graveyard will have two more new souls to feast on.
xXx
Yet the perfume still lingers, like a secret left untold...
Worry was etched clearly upon her face. Two students were missing for more then a day.
The constant reassurance of 'I think they'll be fine.' were starting to become more of an annoyance then a source of comfort.
They were not alright.
They were missing and one of them had no idea how even even summon his own key.
"This is all my fault..." Lydia muttered as she pushed her rations away.
It had been a week since the war took place and things between the harbringers of light and the dwellers of darkness were still unstable. The line between the truce both sides forged were shady but in one of the many shelters they were all forced in, truce was the only way to get things done in there.
"How can it be your fault?" Her husband asked as he sat down next to her.
Lydia welcomed the smoky scent of her husband. It brought her comfort for a grand span of 5 seconds before worry filled her heart all over again.
"They're not even your students to begin with." He added. "Plus, they're not even teenagers."
The red haired woman ran her slim fingers through her matted ponytail. "Ok fine, I'm a big mother hen. Got a problem with that?"
"No but I can imagine what would happen if you do become a master though." Another man took a seat facing the couple. The man held an aura of darkness from within the very deep chambers of his heart and Lydia found herself unconsciously gripping against her husband's arm.
"Oh, she'll rival Yen Sid in the department of worrying and annoying the hell out of her students?" Her husband replied and Lydia loathed the way his eyes shone with familiarity as they conversed and joked. "Xehanort, your jokes are getting old."
"You just broke my heart." Xehanort replied but it was difficult to tell if there was humor or sarcasm in his voice. It was concealed elegantly in one neatly wrapped package. The silver haired man had the mark of mastery but he commanded the powers of the dark, the key of nightfall and even though he fought on their side during the war, Lydia couldn't help but smell betrayal.
Not today. Not tomorrow but somewhere.
What in the world did her husband see in this self proclaimed brother of his?
"I'll leave you boys alone." Lydia said, standing up from the bench. "Wouldn't want a woman to ruin the dirty jokes you both have in store for each other."
Her husband groaned. "Oh will you please get over that April Fool's day joke we pulled on Yen Sid many moons ago?"
"I think she enjoys it." Xehanort suggested, amber eyes fixed upon the red haired woman.
Lydia looked away. "No sooner would I die then watch you fuck Ren."
"We didn't even-"
Ren stood up and placed a gloved hand on his friend's shoulder, silencing him.
His wife and Xehanort were two things that never got along well together. Leia was usually there to mediate the stupid, pointless squabbles Lydia had brewed up.
"Sorry, did I interrupt one of your happy moments again, Xeh?" Another man walked up to them. Like Xehanort, he bore the mark of mastery and the evident of his newly initiated rank was obvious in the keyblade he held in his blood stained gloved hand.
Unlike Xehanort though, the new master who was nominated for an act of bravery (whatever that might be, in Lydia's opinion) during the war didn't look one bit proud of his newly appointed title and God forbid if Ren slipped and addressed him as Master like the younger ones.
"If you consider getting my ego pitched down the trenchers of the graveyard, a happy moment." Xehanort stood up as well, sensing urgency in the twenty five year old's voice. "What can I do for you, Eraqus?"
"Yen Sid wishes to see all the disciples of the key, urgently." Eraqus replied, sending the Master's keeper back into his hammerspace, allowing the weapon to rest in between his personal dimension.
"Regarding?" Ren slowly placed his canned ginger ale down. "If this is about how we fucked up during the war, I don't wish to hear about it. I've got a week's worth of loss to maul over and a funeral plan or two to make."
Eraqus gave a humorless chuckle. "Took the words right out of my mouth."
The young master sobered up before regaining his intimidating posture, war hardened deep brown eyes scanning the two men before him, paying no heed to Lydia.
"An apprentice of the fallen master, Shayla, returned." Eraqus explained. "The one who went missing? Does that ring a bell?"
"I guess I wasn't too quiet when I activated my mother hen mode." Lydia laughed sarcastically as she faced Eraqus. "What happened to Kyle?"
"I don't know. Yen Sid has something to say though and it's rather pressing." Eraqus looked away, unable to face the woman whom he had invested far too much emotional secrets in.
xXx
All is oppressive, alles ist schwer, there is no-one
"I..I...I sho...shot the helmet of that c..c...creature...do...down!" 16 year old Adam stammered, his armor still bearing the scent of the wretched desert.
"You shot the helmet off that creature." Yen Sid rephrased as he circled around the hysterical boy who was curled up against the youngest Master in the group; Kaitlyn. "And this creature you speak of is a keybearer's armor."
Kaitlyn had apparently taken pity on the poor boy, allowing the messy blonde haired male to cling onto the princess satin hem of her armor's cloak.
Adam gulped, feeling the eyes of the war survivors literally dig a hole through his dull grey armor.
"I...I..y...yeh..that's right, honorable master-"
"That doesn't account for his sudden vacay to the graveyard." Eraqus' voice was sharper then the glass latched in between the gaps of Adam's chest plate.
Xehanort nudged his friend in the ribs sharply just as Yen Sid fired a warning look at his prized student.
"Kyle was curious!" Adam said. "H..h..he said that everything will be fine because he's an adult!"
"Wow, we actually had a living personification of maturity does not come with age in here?" Eraqus was actually amazed. "That explains why we actually performed poorly in the war."
"Oh great Kingdom hearts, please get laid, Eraqus." Xehanort was immune to the younger man's sarcasm. He had years to get used to it, along side with his great escapades of skipping classes the moment he managed to master the art of piloting his keyblade glider.
Yen Sid was clearly not amused, despite seeing the truth in his student's sarcasm but something about Adam's story irked him greatly.
"A creature...in the form of an abandoned armor in the Keyblade Graveyard..." Yen Sid crossed his arms.
"An EMPTY armor, moving by itself!" Adam wailed. "I swear to God, that place is cursed!"
The low rumbling murmurs which started the moment Eraqus made his round of sarcastic comments, suddenly rose to an intolerable clamor of gossips and hysteria. The world around Ren and his wife was in chaos.
Lydia fired her husband a look of worry. Lydia had served as a medic during the war, witnessing lives being struck down from the sidelines. She had seen her fair share of loss and understood what it felt when one would rather linger there just so that they can be with with loved ones. Death would then take them by force.
"How do we know you're not lying again, Adam!" An apprentice roared. "Like last time!"
"Piss off Jason, you've seen what happened to Kyle!"
"Who knows! You could be the one behind Kyle's murder!"
It was beginning to turn bloody and Kaitlyn wasn't going to let that happen. Not after all the losses they faced back at the graveyard.
Brandishes her keyblade, she fired several warning shot locks into the air.
Confetti. Harmless, useless little command but the sudden popping as liquid streamers crystallize in midair before descending to the ground, managed to silence the hundred and twenty keybearers in the room.
"Thank you, Kat." Yen Sid looked at Adam. "I trust that you aren't crying wolf, Adam-"
"I am not-"
Yen Sid raised a hand, silencing Adam. "An empty armor...moving by itself...This is...quite..."
"Fascinating?" Xehanort supplied.
"Gay in a bad way." Another apprentice commented.
"Bad." Eraqus concluded. "How did that armor looked like?"
Adam Leighchestor stared at the newly initiated Master. "I don't have to tell you. You very well know your sister's armor."
xXx
"I am the mistress of all things feared, my court is eternally deserted but I care not."
His sleep was restless and drug induced, the young Lord of the Land of Departure relying heavily on a nasty mixture of strong Valerian root and chamomile leaves. Yen Sid had thrown in a bit of sleep magic into the brew but despite the strength of the sleeping drug administered through his veins via a sterile syringe, Eraqus took an hour before sleep finally claimed him.
His dreams was a study of glass and corpses, littered through the once beautiful landscape of the castle he had called home for many years.
Glass. It was everywhere in various forms and in every possible shade of the rainbow.
It was beautiful in a strange way.
Eraqus surveyed the broken sight before him, not too sure how he would react to such a situation.
"I made something."
The young master turned around and came face to face with an armor. Silken cape, deep crusted orange, a broken keyblade in hand.
"The war is approaching us."
Land of Departure stood before him once again, in a study of ruin and misery. The armor of his sister, gone. Eraqus activated his armor to shield him from the glass filled wind and from whatever shady shadow lurking behind torn velvet drapes.
Darkness fought against tightly woven mythril chain mail as Eraqus observed the state of ruin his home world was in. What bothered him was that the whole entire darkness lingering about in the air reeked of Xehanort's presence.
"Take it."
Eraqus faced his sister's voice again.
"Take ...it...?" He was puzzled.
The sound of breaking glass became much more prominent with each passing minute.
"Take it." Leia's voice repeated itself from within her armor. "It's yours. But you broke it."
The wayfinder he had been holding onto, shattered along with the remains of the Land of Departure.
In the midst of falling down the rabbit hole, Eraqus fell past a young woman. The only thing he remembered was the color of her hair; the shade of the ocean.
xXx
Bring back what once was mine...
"You were tossing and turning, muttering some bullshit out of your mouth and now you want to go grave digging?" Ren was amazed. "Eraqus, I seriously do not comprehend your logic."
"Then don't." Eraqus replied sharply, pulling his armor's helmet off.
Xehanort surveyed the empty desert before them. The scent of rusted metal and blood dominated the air.
"This isn't about Lydia, is it?" like Xehanort, Ren Takamiya had his keyblade out, guarding Eraqus as he dug the ground for something.
"I told you, this shit has nothing to do about Lydia or our aborted kid." Eraqus gritted his teeth as he continued on his mad hunt. "We just don't see eye to eye anymore."
Xehanort frowned. "Something in your nightmare triggered this."
Eraqus stood up, pieces of broken glass in his armored hand. For a moment, the shade of blue bothered him. He was reminded of that woman with blue hair he had seen briefly in his dream.
"I found it."
Xehanort and Ren made their way towards their comrade.
"That lucky charm Leia made for you?" Ren observed the broken glass. "You came all the way for this?"
"No, I came here for a picnic but obviously I've forgotten the picnic basket." Eraqus pocketed the glass. "Now we better go back for the picnic basket before Yogi Bear gets mad."
"...I cannot really picture Yen Sid with a bear suit and-"
Xehanort thumped Ren on the back. "Don't even THINK about it. Yen Sid will skewer us all alive if he finds out that we've been pulling the same stunt as Adam and Kyle."
"So..about that empty armor again..."
A hollow pair of eyes watched the trio as they made their way back to their temporary base.
xXx
A lingering will is the greatest revenge a keybearer can posses as he or she transverse from one point of existence to another.
"Lingering...Sentiment...?" Lydia looked at Jason at breakfast, speaking over cold tea and sugared bread.
"That's what those armored ghosts are called." Jason took a bite of the sugared bread from the basket. "At least that's what Master Yen Sid referred them to."
"So it's basically a Keybearer's...armor...?" Lydia channeled some weak fira to heat her tea up.
"Ditto." Jason wiped some sugar off his lips with a paper napkin. "Somehow or rather, our armor kinda gets attached to us and won't let us go even in death. I over heard Yen Sid talking to Xehanort late last night."
Lydia stared. "But our armor isn't even PART of our Keyblades! It's a separate piece of technology that we use because our Keyblades cannot protect us from shit like...a rain of bullets!"
Jason shrugged. "Apparently, from what I heard, Kyle's armor became one of those ghosts as well. I guess Yen Sid sent that Eraqus kid to recon that shit hole last night."
At the mention of his name, Lydia's tensed up.
"I'm not apprentice of Yen Sid." Jason helped himself to some tea. "But what the hell's the issue between you and Eraqus?"
"Relationship. Let's just say that Eraqus couldn't get his priorities right and Xehanort was just...making things more complicated." Lydia stood up, taking her mug of tea with her. "And here comes that asshole. I'm going to practice my shot locks. See ya."
Lydia shoved Eraqus as she passed by him but to her disappointment, he didn't react like he used to.
The young man looked extremely disheveled with dark circles under his eyes. Guilt filled Lydia momentarily. She knew that he had lost his sister, the only blood family he had since he ran away from home and here she was, being quite a bitch simply because of a deed they had foolishly done in his bed many nights ago.
"I'm not holding it against you, Lydia." Eraqus' voice tore through her thoughts. "It was my fault."
The red haired woman was stunned.
"But I really need your help right now." The young master was literally begging. "Me and Xehanort tried but it wasn't that easy at night in my room without any bright light-"
"Whoa! Hold it! You want tips on how to screw Xehanort?" Lydia was appalled.
Eraqus faced her for the first time in many years with an unreadable expression on his face. "You've been hanging around Ren far too long, woman. I need help with another department that does not include-"
"I was kidding, Eraqus. Geeze." Lydia finished her tea up. "What is it?"
"I need help fixing a wayfinder. It's broken."
Lydia was surprised.
"...You got the pieces? I'll see what I can do about it."
xXx
The pieces were encased in a glass cage, suspended in midair. It was no longer in a shape of an imaginary falling star, but a diamond. A clear diamond shaped glass containing the wayfinder's pieces.
"I tried my best fixing it but obviously, I've failed."
The fallen armor of his sister laid amongst a sea of rust, unmoving just like the rest of the fallen warriors who shared the same unburied grave as her.
"I got Lydia to fix it but we can't really restore it back to it's original shape."
Slowly, the armor inclined it's head upwards to look at Eraqus.
"So to be fair, me and Xehanort smashed our wayfinder so that it'll be similar in construct." Eraqus held out the three reconstructed lucky charms by a newly strung leather chord.
Slowly, but surely, the lingering sentiment of his sister stood up, mythril encased fingers reaching out towards Eraqus.
Eraqus slipped the leather chord of the blue wayfinder around the lingering sentiment's neck.
The empty suit of armor took a graceful step back, rusted fingers stroking the glass trinket thankfully for a moment before collapsing onto the ground. Eraqus watched as the joints securing the mythril contraption in place, fell apart, leaving the hollow armor in pieces.
"Good night, Leia." Eraqus whispered to the wind before turning to leave the graveyard for good.
Leia's lingering sentiment laid still and it would remain to do so for eternity.
- End