Autumn was the season of fire, Axel reflected, not summer. It was true, that summer contained the heat of the year, but it was a sweltering, sticky, invasive heat that clung to the skin and oozed distasteful sweat from every pore. The heat of fire was dry and crackling, just how he liked it, an inferno against the skin that sucked all moisture in its path with wild swirls of red and yellows. Autumn. Axel trailed a bony finger on the ground between his outstretched legs, stirring crisp leaves with a sound his ears found familiar and comforting. Heaven help him, his life stood in balance tonight. An unhappy sneer curled his lips. If not for his gift, the village would have banished him long ago. They had tried, oh, he remembered they had tried and he had very patiently sat outside their gates until a wayward spark from some poor fool's fireplace had lit through the air. Autumn with its dry leaves and tinder, just waiting for the right breath of life. He had been there when the crying villagers tumbled outside and begged him to coax the fire down.

Axel could not control flame; the wildness was not his to tame. He could soothe it however, stroke it down just as a priest with a flattering tongue standing before the altar of some hungry god. Keep it occupied long enough for the cowering townspeople to lug buckets and tubs of water from the creaking well. It ran dry a year after that and Axel enjoyed comforts he had not seen previously when the nearest source of water then became the creek a good half league away. But now…Axel clenched a fist, stared at the pale bone stretching the thin skin of his knuckles. Now he had to shout to make himself heard, when before a cooing whisper as to a lover was all it took. The flames were not listening anymore; they were losing something, sentience perhaps, or maybe learning a different language that he had yet to master. And as more and more houses burned despite his efforts, though only to save himself, calculating glances that he felt more than saw began to flitter about him. Oh, he did not have to guess what the town meeting tonight was for, nor even what their decision would be. He had very little to prepare; Axel owned very little himself, which necessitated his survival on the grudgingly given goodwill of others. A few gold pieces to his name, bits of silver, a slightly crooked blade, and the clothes on his back. All of which, he already always carried on his person. Just as the village hated him and distrusted this young rogue that they would rather do without, he rendered the feeling mutual. It amused him to no end to see the helpless fury as he partook of their food, seduced and rejected the hearts of their daughters and, yes, some of their sons. And tonight they would finally wreak their vengeance.

He stood. While there was the possibility of slipping away now, while it was still light, before his exile was made official, his curiosity to hear the accusations they would fling at him held him back. Axel thought he would enjoy the night; yes, staying was reckless, dangerous, but he possessed a thirst for thrills. Stay he would and tomorrow's light would see his departure and good riddance on both ends. What came next would be a different and more difficult matter.

"Axel?"

Little Xion. Well, perhaps, not so little; she was after all of age, otherwise they would have thrown him out, wildfires or no. Deceptively delicate, she had surprised him by firmly replying to his callous words the morning after, "I don't care. I will still seek you out when it is my fancy to do so, if only because you need someone who will not poison your meals."

"Xion. What would the elders think if they were to see you approaching me now of all times?" He leered at her.

"That I am bringing you your last meal, possibly," she retorted calmly. Indeed, she had, and Xion had also not changed one bit.

"Many thanks for that," Axel said lightly and stretched out a hand to indicate the bare ground around him. "Please. Sit."

He guessed correctly that she would not refuse. "Tell me what you've been up to, little lady. I'm dying to know how you've occupied your time without my degrading influence."

Xion shrugged one shoulder and Axel allowed himself to admire the delicate collarbone that he knew oh so well the feel of when the skin was being sucked to bloom between his teeth. "I'm engaged."

Axel blinked. "Congratulations." It was a rare thing, but then Xion had never been one of the weeping, pining girls that made up his list of past nightly partners. Of those, the ones who eventually recovered from their self-proclaimed broken hearts, few were courted. It was not that the young men of the village minded so much as the potential in-laws did. "Do I know the lucky young man?" He smiled unpleasantly.

She glanced sharply at him and he had the distinct feeling that she knew exactly what he was implying. "No. You might have seen him in the village, but I believe you two have never formally met."

"Then I wish you a life of contentment and the best of luck, Xion." Perhaps it was mere vanity on his part, but it pleased him when the way he said her name made the girl shiver barely noticeably. Pursing her lips, Xion sat up straighter and looked him in the eye. "Axel, where are you going to go?"

This hit him disagreeably. He had thus far managed to avoid thinking too hard about what he was going to do after leaving this godforsaken place. But his twisted sense of honor demanded he give her at least a fairly decent answer out of the respect he extended to her as one of few. Axel did not shift his eyes away as he answered truthfully, "I'm not sure."

"You could stay in the vicinity."

Axel snorted. "Depending on your good will for food and shelter in winter? Xion, dear, have you really thought that through? I highly doubt your beau would condone such an arrangement."

Xion flushed. "He might. He doesn't have the same prejudices as everyone else."

"Is he tolerant to the point of secretly taking in the notorious black sheep of the village? No, thank you, darling, for the offer, but I'll make my own way. You'll be hearing rumors about me from the next town onwards before too long." Neither of them betrayed the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

It was when Axel was tossing the apple between his hands, debating between consuming it then and there or saving it for the journey that was sure to come the next morning that Xion spoke again. "It's not just you, Axel. They're all worried about other things too." Xion's grandfather being one of the village elders led to amazing perks of information. She looked down at her hands. "Grandmother says that the magic is fading. She says that the world is losing its color."

"Is that right. And what exactly is your grandmother, a proponent of: the castle theory or the heart theory?" Axel was skeptical about both of the old stories people told about how "magic" had come to be in the world. Once upon a time, hearts were filled with light and only light. All people had the magic and lived in utter harmony with the world. Then people began to covet the powers and desire to rule over each other with this means in mind. They bore darkness in their own hearts and then the darkness began to spread, creeping into the corners of each and every heart. The world then, to save its people, took away the magic and only sparingly dealt it out to the worthy. Yeah. Right. Every time he heard that one, Axel would laugh and point at himself as the ultimately proof that it was false. He was worthy, sure.

That had been the story. Then an offshoot began spreading that magic was not a result of light, but of darkness. Magic had disappeared utterly from the land until some years ago, when a heart of pure darkness was born to the queen. The creature became the center point from which magic emanated, and throughout the kingdom, people slowly became infected by this darkness. In fear, the queen and king summoned an enchanter to construct for them a moving castle that was placed in the sky. They locked the creature away in it and sent the entire building off, praying for the best. Which, he supposed, made a lot more sense in explaining why his affinity for fire was weakening. And it certainly explained why such a wicked rogue as he had the power in the first place.

"Neither, exactly."

"Such blasphemy. Does your grandfather know of this outrageous belief and coming from the mouth of his very wife too?"

Xion ignored him. "Last night she said that the stars were pointing out the castle. But she says that the…thing in there is not pure darkness, but pure light. But as the castle moves farther and farther away, the land is falling silent and if it reaches the end of all things, magic will be gone forever."

"I'm sure your village would be very happy at that prospect. Now, don't lie to me. You know perfectly well that my outlandish behavior is not the only thing they object to. Look at Demyx. Paragon of virtue, but lo and behold, he has the gift, so thus he becomes a pariah no matter how virginal he may act."

"Axel, I think you should leave tonight then if you are unwilling to accept my offer. The villagers know something's wrong, but they won't listen to Grandmother. I'm afraid they might find a scapegoat in you."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything. Thank you for the invitation…and the meal." Axel stretched in an uncouth manner he knew drove elders crazy and stood, brushing leaves off his coat. He paused. The wind whistled past his ear and sent a chill down his back. It was bitterly cold.