A/N: New chapter ;) Thanks to all the reviewers!

Chapter 3 – One of Us

Aqua woke with guilt in her belly.

She had broken her vows, forsaken the oath she swore on the day of her Ascension.

And for what? A few sweet words, strong hands and a handsome face. She had known it was a mistake, but she had been lost the moment he pressed his lips against hers. No one had ever made her feel so good, so much like a woman as he did with his words, and with his body.

As a valkyrie she had sworn never to lie with a man, to remain a maiden for the rest of her days. That was the price one had to pay for brandishing the valkyrie's sword, for wielding the sacred arts of the battle maiden and for eternal youth and beauty. And she had thrown it away.

She rose from her bed, which was simple, like the rest of her room. She poured herself a glass of Maiden's mead. To drown my dreams, she thought bitterly.

She found herself wondering if they would find out about it. She would not suspect Setzer of boasting about bedding her, he knew what it would mean for her if he did, but somehow she was sure that the First would find out. Claire Farron had her ways, though exactly what ways they were she could not begin to guess. Lightning she called herself. A suitable name. Lightning protects nothing – it only destroys. It strikes without warning, leaving nothing but death. The leader of the valkyries was her sworn sister, but she was also a harsh woman, old before Aqua was born. Aqua knew that she would not be forgiven for breaking her vows. The punishment for breaking the Maiden's vows would mean the sealing away of her powers, and banishment from Arcadia.

She would never wield magic again. She shivered at the idea. Her powers were part of her now, without them she was just some weak, pathetic girl. She would still have her swordsmanship, but she would never be the best in the land without the strength of the valkyries. Any skilled man would be able to best a skinny girl, however quick she might be. The best she could hope for was a quiet life in Rozarria. Perhaps she could marry a wealthy noble in one of the beautiful Roxarrian cities, and live as a rich woman for the rest of her days…. That was not her though. She clenched her fist after putting down the glass of mead. They must never judge me. She could not bear it.

There was only one option left to her. She would have to talk to the prince.

What the –

Sora woke up violently, only aware of the sudden coldness and the wetness surrounding him. He opened his eyes and looked around him. There were people standing in his room, all around his bed. Black hoods hid their faces. They all wore the same odd black robes, and the most frightening thing about them was their silence. They just stood there, watching him from the darkness of their hoods. They carried wooden paddles with them

"W-who… who are you?" Sora asked, shivering in his bed, cold water dripping from his face.

The closest figure struck him in the face, a harsh backhand blow that made Sora lose his breath.

"You do not question. Follow us."

Half of the figures left the room, while the other half lingered, apparently waiting for him to move. Hesitating, Sora climbed out of the bed. He had worn breeches tonight, expecting some other surprise or nightly intervention. He gasped at the soreness with which he moved. It hurt even to walk. Memories of the previous night came back, but he pushed them out of his mind, determined to focus on the present situation. The other robed figures followed him, still remaining utterly silent. They walked through the Palace, an odd group of black sentinels guarding a near-naked boy who was dripping wet and shivering. They reached the entrance hall. The palace doors opened for them, without any visible force moving them. The procession walked outside, into the mild summer night. They walked to a patch of grass close to the circular shrine Sora remembered noticing the day before, when he was first brought into the palace. There they gathered around him in a circle.

"Boy," one of them spoke, "you have been brought before the Black Council to undertake the Joining ritual."

Sora frowned, confused. No one had told him anything about any joining rituals he would have to undertake, or about any council, for that matter.

"You are confused. Did you honestly think, were you truly naïve enough to believe that anyone could join the Black Council?"

"No, I –"

"Enough. You insult us with your impudence. Comrade Snow, discipline this despicable country boy, who presumes himself to be better than us."

One of the cloaked figures, an enormous one who stood almost two feet taller than Sora, took a step towards him and hit him, hard on his buttocks with a paddle.

Sora cried out and was knocked to the ground by the force of the blow. He had not been expecting the blow, and the pain took him by surprise. The leader of the pack of black figures spoke again.

"There. Let that be the beginning of your humbling, but do not expect it to be the end of it. Now we will test you. First will be a test of knowledge, followed by a test of endurance and finally a test of fate."

Sora scrambled to his feet, completely confused. He was to be tested? For what?

"The test of knowledge will begin. You will answer questions on the following subjects: history, magical theory, geography, and general knowledge. Should you somehow manage to answer a question truthfully, you will advance to more difficult questions, unscathed. Should you fail to do so, however…"

Another one of the figures stepped forward, with a bottle of deep red fluid Sora recognized. Arcadian Strongwine. They mean to get me drunk.

"The first question!" The apparent leader of the group spoke, "list the three Great Nations, in order of size."

That is easy. "Burmecia, Rozarria and Arcadia."

"Wrong!" his interrogator cried triumphantly. What?

"Bring this foolish boy the strongwine!"

"But…. That was the right.." Sora protested as a glass of the wine was pushed into his hand.

"No, Sora. It was not the right answer. You put the nations in the wrong order. I told you to name the nations in order of size. Naturally I meant for you to start with the largest one first. Now drink."

Sora then knew that this was not really a test, but merely some sort of rite designed to humiliate him and feed him drunk. He drank the wine, and it was warm in his throat.

"Next question," the figure asked while Sora was still drinking, "How long has our beloved queen reigned over the empire of Rozarria?"

Sora knew that. They might think that he was just some uneducated country boy, but he had gone to school, and he knew his history.

"Two hundred and thirty-four years."

"Everyone knows that. How many months? Weeks? Days?"

Is he joking? Apparently not, because before he knew it Sora was tossing back another glass of strongwine. He could already feel it affecting him: he was feeling strangely relaxed, even though he was standing outside in the cold night air wearing nothing but his breeches, surrounded by a group of tall, intimidating robed figures.

The questioning went on and on, until Sora lost count of the questions and the cups of wine he had consumed. His head was starting to feel heavier and heavier and he was just about to faint when the leader of the pack spoke up again.

"That is enough. The second part of the joining is now upon us. "

"Finally!" Sora said, feeling bold with the alcohol flowing through his veins. He giggled a little; causing some members of the group that surrounded him to chuckle, breaking their intimidating manner.

"You are not to speak unless spoken to." Their leader, however, never fell out of his role. "The test of strength is upon you. Hand the recruit his weapon."

Sora was then handed a pathetic, wooden sword.

"The test of strength will now commence. Defend yourself, or suffer…"

One of the figured stepped forward, wielding a paddle that in his hands somehow seemed like a far more formidable weapon than Sora's wooden sword. Sora raised his sword awkwardly, warily. The strongwine coursing through his veins was causing him to feel rather brave and confident. He felt like he could take on this paddle-wielding cloaked coward, and a great many more just like him.

That feeling did not last.

Before Sora even had time to think, the figure moved, quicker than Sora would have thought possible. He struck at the sword Sora had been wielding with the paddle, and it flew out of his hand. The next strike hit him viciously on his thigh.

"Defend yourself!" Their leader commanded. With what? Sora was desperately trying to protect his face as he was brutally pummelled over and over again.

"Pathetic! Comrades, teach this weakling how a craven is treated at the Palace!"

And then there were more paddles, hitting him from all sides. He cried out in pain, falling down to his knees. They hit him everywhere: his back, his legs, his arms… Someone pulled him to his feet, only to hit his backside with such force that he screamed like a girl and jumped into the air. They hit him and hit him, until there was nothing but pain.

Rage took over then, and an odd sense of calmness came over Sora then. He could feel his anger building up inside him. His vision blurred, but his mind was clear. He found a force deep within himself, and he released his rage and his pain all at once.

"STOP!" he cried, and all of those who were striking him were pushed away by some violent force that seemed to come from Sora himself, a blast so powerful it knocked some of them into the air, dropping them yards away from where they had been lifted.

A silence came over the group. Sora stood up, feeling nothing but numbness, and a faint tiredness. Those robed figures that had been knocked to the ground stood up, staring at him form the darkness underneath their hoods. Some of them started muttering amongst themselves.

"Enough!" Their leader spoke, and the group fell silent once again and gathered in a circle around him, "that was… unexpected. You have passed the test of strength. Good. You might survive the joining after all… However, the test of fate still lies before you, and that is where you must truly show your mettle. You must follow now."

While Sora was still wondering about what exactly had just happened, they led him to the circular shrine Sora had noticed when Seifer and Leon had led him into the castle, through the magnificent gardens and to the gates where Baralai had awaited them. It consisted of an arched roof lifted up by a circle of slender pillars surrounding a pool of water.

"For the last task, you must dive into the Moon Shrine. Within its depths, all the way at the bottom of the trench, lie the pendants that each member of the Black Council wears. If you are worthy, one of these pendants will light up for you. Bring it back up with you. If you succeed, the pendant is yours, and you shall forever be one of us. Fail to do so, and you will suffer the consequences…"

Then there was silence. He hesitated, stepping towards the water. It was only a small circle of water, about two yards across, but it was impossible to tell how deep it went. The water was a deep blue in the moonlight.

They were waiting for him. A tension hung in the air. He did not know what to do. Was he now supposed to just jump into the water? When he looked towards the leader of the robed figures he saw a small nod, hardly noticeable. He dove into the water.

Unlike most of the boys who lived in the area he came from, Sora knew how to swim well. When he was just a little boy his father had taken him to the lake and threw him in, laughing his cheerful laugh. At first Sora had been terrified and furiously angry at his father, thinking he had meant to murder him. But he learned fast, and within a few days he was begging his father to go to the lake as soon as he was done with school.

Now he was rather thankful for Zackary Fair's harsh swimming lessons. At first he didn't move, letting the force of his dive carry him deeper into the water, afraid to hit the bottom all of a sudden. It seemed just like the group of cloaked figures to direct him to swim to some deep abyss only to watch as he broke his neck on the shallow stone floor.

That did not happen however, and he started swimming. Slow and wide strokes he could hear his father saying, you will go just as fast but you won't run out of breath as quickly. His behind still hurt from the night before, and he was bruised all around from the beating, but the water was somehow soothing and he was as strong a swimmer as he had always been.

He started panicking when he just kept on swimming down into the abyss, without anything to guide him or to tell him he was processing further into the trench. He wondered whether he would be able to make his way back if the trench turned out to be any deeper. That was when the light appeared. It was hard to tell how far down it was, but he could see a beautiful silver light shining at the bottom. It was the loveliest sight he had ever seen. He swam on with renewed strength, and then he was at the bottom. He reached out for the light, and felt the stone floor to be littered with silvery pendants. He grabbed the one the light seemed to come from, and pushed himself off the floor with his legs. He knew he had to stay calm, but he was running out of air and the trench was deeper he had thought it would be. The water was pressing onto his ears. He could feel the pressure building in his head as he started to feel the results of the lack of oxygen. He thought he could see the moonlight shining through, or was that just an illusion? I'll die now, I'll run out of strength and I'll sink back to the bottom and I will lie there forever, on top of the shiny pendants. He panicked, and despite everything his father taught him he kicked desperately at the water. He could feel a pain behind his eyes; his head was feeling lighter and lighter, and then –

He was free. He broke the surface of the water with a long retching gasp for air. The silver trophy seemed to shine brighter than ever in his hand, and a huge smile appeared on his face. Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was the near-death experience, but he could honestly admit that he had never felt more alive.

No longer harsh, the leader of the group held out his arm to him to pull him out of the water.

"Congratulations recruit. You passed the test of Fate. You succeeded."

As one, the cloaked figures removed their hood, revealing by far the best-looking set of faces he had ever seen. Back in Tyral he had been considered reasonably good-looking, but he knew he was plain and homely compared to these men. The leader had splendid red hair that seemed to be on fire, and emerald eyes that shone with a feverish glow. Next to him was a young man with delicate features and spiky blond hair, and enormous eyes that were the most innocent shade of blue. His hair was a brighter blond than Roxas', and his eyes seemed less cold somehow. The rest of them were just as handsome. He recognized Roxas, Demyx and Marluxia, but Baralai and Riku were absent. Sora had never really thought men could be beautiful, but these men were. To his embarrassment he found his breeches to become rather tight all of a sudden.

"Show us the pendant." The red-haired man told him.

Sora held it up, only truly seeing it for himself now. It was a rather simple pendant, made of silver. It was a chain with a small silver crown attached to it, plain but elegant.

"You…. The crown has chosen you." The man said, with a strange admiration in his voice, "how… interesting."

Sora frowned, puzzled. Had that pendant really chosen him? Had there been a chance that there would be no sudden light in the darkness of the trench?

Then, with a bizarre severity, the red-haired leader pressed his lips on Sora's forehead. They were strangely warm, and Sora was horrified to feel himself blushing

"Welcome, Sora, to the Black Council, also known as the Court of Roses. I am Axel, and these are your brothers, now and forever. You have passed the joining. You are one of us."