Chapter IV:
Sins
Darkness. Nothing but darkness. Riku felt cold. His skin was wet and clammy. His long, silver hair clung to his neck like a leech. He shivered, pulling his arms closer to his chest. Somewhere along the way he must have lost his cloak. He felt exposed without it. Vulnerable. He was lying on the ground. It felt smooth. Cold. Hard, and yet, almost ethereal. As if it wasn't really there. For some reason he pictured it as transparent. With nothing really below it? Though all this was just speculation. He couldn't actually see the ground. It didn't matter whether his eyes were open or closed. Nothing changed.
Riku didn't know how long he had been there. It could have been days or minutes for all he knew. But he felt as though he was forgetting something. Something important. Had something happened? Where were his…friends? Did he have friends? Did he have a home? Who was he?
Riku sat up, moving sluggishly. He raised a hand to his forehead, trying to think. His thoughts felt confused, jumbled about…in a way. Memories floated aimlessly, just out of reach. They were muddled, like vague shapes surrounding him, hovering in dirty, viscous water.
Think dammit think.
Riku glared where he thought his shoe must be, willing something, anything to surface.
Wait.
Something was there. A…a blade?
There. Out of the darkness. Wreathed in smoke, black and red, designed in the shape of a bat's wing. A feathered, white angel wing extended from the back, giving it a very key-like appearance. Smaller versions of each wing formed guards on both sides of the hilt and a blue, cat-like eye was inlaid directly above where the hand would rest. A keychain resembling a black heart hung from the bottom.
Riku tentatively reached towards the blade. He didn't recognize it, but at the same time the action felt familiar. Like he had done this a million times.
The blade flashed, flames shooting from the smoke. Riku jerked his hand back, his eyes narrowing, and growling unconsciously. The blade was soaked in blood. It dripped from the blade's tip, twisted and clung to the hilt, bright red, yet transparent, visibly showing the patterns and different shades of color beneath. And, despite the lack of light, Riku could clearly see his reflection in the blood.
What the hell…What does this-
The reflection broke Riku's gaze. It raised its hands, staring down at its upturned palms. Just like the blade, they were covered, drenched, in blood.
Riku, feeling like a man condemned, slowly looked down.
-Mean.
Blood. Painful. Guilty. Inescapable. Blood.
Riku frantically rubbed his pants, trying desperately to scrub off the blood. It wouldn't come off. Why wouldn't it come off?
What had he done? Had he hurt someone? Killed someone?
What is-
What kind of person was he?
-going on?
Whose blood was this? How many people?
And why-
One?
-won't-
Ten?
-this-
A hundred?
-come-
A thousand?
-OFF?!
A rumbling sound was rising all around him. The ground shook and cracked, sending the world into chaos. Even the very air seemed to vibrate. Riku looked around frantically, searching for an escape.
Screw it.
Riku turned around, starting to run, stopping immediately. The blade was still there. The blood, his reflection, all of it. Its gaze seizing his own. Suddenly, its eyes flared orange. The reflection burst from the blade, straight towards him. Riku threw up his hands, waiting for the inevitable pain.
"Ansem!"
Riku opened his eyes. His brow furrowed confusingly. This was becoming an annoying habit. Living in a state of confusion was not something he enjoyed doing. The pain he had been expecting never came. All he remembered was a blast of air rushing past him and then…nothing. Riku lowered his hands. He turned them over, checking them thoroughly.
"No blood," Riku wondered, "And what's with the screaming... Who the hell is Ansem?"
Riku took in his new surroundings, "More importantly, where am I?"
He stood on what looked like a massive piece of stain glass. A man with long silver hair and orange eyes stood in the background towards the left. He stood sideways, his face turned to look over his shoulder and a menacing smile adorning his features. Towards the right and facing the opposite direction was a figure in a black coat, with what appeared to be very large ears, and a golden key in his hand. In the very center of the background was a boy. Only his back was visible, but Riku sensed he was around his own age. The boy was adorned in black clothing, with bits of red and yellow accenting the outfit. He held two keys. One black as death, akin to a heart falling into oblivion. The other white, with touches of blue and gold, filled with hope and oaths soon fulfilled. But the centerpiece...was himself.
He stood front and center, between the three other figures. His hands were held palms upward, the left consumed in bottomless darkness and the right gleaming with pure light. He bore a pained expression. Depending on the angle Riku viewed at the glass, the eyes shifted to look towards either the left hand or the right.
"This just keeps getting weirder," He muttered.
Riku strode towards the edge of the glass. The same infinite darkness as before filled the space beyond the glass. Riku stopped on the border between the two.
"Hmph," He grunted.
Solid ground ended with the stained glass. Instead of continuing smoothly into darkness the floor simply dropped off into a sheer cliff, forming a an unnatural plateau of sorts.
"Riku!"
Riku spun around. A figure had appeared on the other side of the glass platform, barely visible against the pitch-black background. His hand stretched out towards Riku in an oddly familiar way. As if they knew each other. He wore a black cloak, the same kind he owned…wait…had he owned something…like that? It all seemed very far away…
"What? You…You're not Riku."
The cloaked figure dropped its hand.
"Whoever you are, let Riku go! Give him back his heart!"
Riku crossed his arms indignantly, "What are you talking about? Who are you?"
The figure swung his hand sharply in front of him. There was a sudden bright light and a silver key materialized in his hand. The figure crouched, cloak flaring out.
"Alright fine!" He growled, "You asked for it!"
He charged, swinging his key with vicious speed. Riku leapt to the side, narrowly missing the bright steel. Next thing he knew, Riku was hitting the floor. His attacker had recovered in a split second, beginning his next strike without hesitation and taking Riku's legs out from under him.
This guy is good.
Riku rolled to the side. The dark warrior's key slammed into the floor, cracking the glass into spider webs. Riku tried to get up, but he was instantly right there. He landed a brutal kick to Riku's side, barely missing him with another key-attack. Riku struggled to get up. He rolled and dodged across the floor; all the while just ahead of the figure's unyielding attacks. The air whistling from near misses and the key scrapping across the floor in sprays of sparks and smashing rippling cracks into the glass. He knew it was only a matter of time before one of those deadly strikes landed.
Have to catch him off guard.
As the figure spun around in an overhead strike, Riku rolled the opposite direction, kicking towards the figure's legs. The figure faltered, then vaulted into a flip over Riku. He only had a couple seconds. But it was enough. Riku sprang to his feet.
Now, my turn.
Riku sprinted towards the figure, just coming back around to face him. He surged forward, feet leaving the ground, landing a solid punch. The figure stumbled, throwing up a half-hearted guard. But Riku wasn't done yet. He kicked and jabbed, throwing wicked elbows and savage head-butts, keeping this mysterious warrior on his heels. He stayed in close-quarters, neutralizing the figure's longer reach and the force of his key-strikes. He swatted away useless counterattacks and dodged the ones he couldn't. The figure was tiring under Riku's relentless barrage. If he could just keep this up a few more seconds…
"REFLECT!"
Riku felt like he had collided with a stone wall. He flew backwards, sliding across the floor, watching the metallic bubble around the figure fade. Shards of glass digging into his back. Ribs…burning. Definitely cracked. Hopefully not broken. Probably not. The figure straightened, walking towards him. Each step deliberate, echoing in the dark. Pausing, then soaring upwards.
Time slowed. The figure's cloak pulled back in the wind. The shadow under its hood as impassive as ever. Riku watched the figure's key swing back, then down. Down with the figure. Down to a final strike. To the conclusion. To the end. To oblivion.
Riku roared, one fist rising, defiant against the dying of the light.
Time resumed with a flurry of red rain.
Something wet hit Riku in the face. Followed half-a-second later by the thump of something hitting the ground next to him. Riku rolled onto his stomach, wiping his face and spitting out the remnants of whatever had landed on him.
How am I still alive?
That should've been it. His last-ditch effort might have hurt, maybe left a decent bruise, but it couldn't have stopped the cloaked warrior all together. He could have, no should have, killed Riku. He at least expected to hear those footsteps again, coming to finish off what he started. But he didn't. Other than his own labored breathing...there was nothing. Just deafening silence.
Riku stood, a little unsteady, not completely trusting his feet.
The figure lay on his side, crumpled and motionless. A red pool seeped from underneath his arm, tainting the stained glass. Riku had no doubts about his state of being, just questions about how it came to be.
"How?" He whispered.
He nudged the corpse with his foot, flipping it onto its back.
A black and red blade, the same blade that had led him here, rose from the figure's chest like a monument to his death. Then, it vanished in a burst of light, reappearing in Riku's hand. He glanced down briefly. The hilt was cold. Riku strode over to his enemy's corpse and callously flicked back the cloak's hood.
The light fell on a surprisingly young face. It was a boy, no more than Riku's age, maybe younger. No…not just any boy. It was the boy from the stained glass. It had to be. They had the same figure, similar weapons, same outrageously spiky hair…spiky hair.
It came back to Riku in a flash. Torrents of memories crashing through his brain in the space of a millisecond. He was Riku. His home was Destiny Islands. He'd travelled the worlds, attempting to destroy and save them in equal measure. He was a keyblade wielder: one of the few individuals chosen to guard the worlds and keep peace amongst them. The blade he held was one such keyblade, his own, Way to the Dawn. He had two other friend who were keyblade wielders. Just recently Kairi and-
"Sora!"
Riku dropped to his knees, keyblade clattering to the floor. It was him. The figure was Sora.
"No, no, no, no, no. Sora!"
He grabbed Sora by the shoulders, shaking him. Willing him to wake up.
"Sora, c'mon you can't do this to me Sora."
Tears streamed down his face. He pulled his friend close, rocking back and forth. What had happened? Why hadn't Sora recognized him? Why had he attacked him? Why had he made him…made him…
"SORA!"
Riku shot up in bed, cold sweat licking his body.
What happened? Where's Sora? What is going on?!
His head spun. Riku leaned over the side of the bed, flinging the covers away, and vomited. After several seconds he leaned back, tasting bile.
"God," He struggled to get the word out, still feeling slightly nauseous, "Must've...been a dream."
He sat up a little, finally taking in his surroundings, "Where am I?"
Where ever he was, it wasn't familiar. He was inside a large, canvas tent. His bed was a green, foldable cot. A few others were spread out around the tent's interior, but most were empty. Of the few that weren't, he couldn't see any signs of movement and he couldn't make out any facial features. A rather decrepit table was placed over in the left-hand corner of the tent. It looked like it was about to collapse, bringing an army of medical supplies and tools down with it.
Medical. Of course!
The town had been attacked. He had been injured during the invasion. The last thing he could remember was limping down a burning street, followed swiftly by a much closer look at said street. The town must have evacuated and someone had pulled him out with them.
Riku breathed a sigh of relief. At least a few of them had gotten out.
He yawned. Riku didn't know how long he had been asleep, but it obviously wasn't enough. His mind felt restless, however his body obviously disagreed. Grudgingly, he lay back down. Nothing seemed to be going on anyways.
He was just about to fall back to sleep when he heard the rustle of canvas being pushed aside. Two men in dark clothing entered the tent, carrying none other than Kairi on a stretcher.
Riku sat back up, "What happened? Is she alright?"
The men didn't respond, hurriedly transferring her from the stretcher to the bed next to Riku. Riku was about to ask again, in a significantly less polite manner, when shouting erupted outside the tent. The men dashed back outside, leaving Riku more worried than ever. He swung his legs off the bed, doing his best to get to Kairi without falling.
"Kairi. Hey, Kairi,"
Her eyelids flickered. Kairi shifted a bit and groaned.
"Kairi," He said again.
This time it worked. Kairi's eyes opened.
"What?" She muttered.
She squinted, closing her eyes again. Then they flew open.
"Riku? You're awake."
Riku laughed, "Ha, it'll take more than a few hits to keep me down. How are you doing? What happened?"
"Heartless…"
"Heartless? Here? Didn't the town evacuate?"
"They…they found us," Kairi tried to sit up, "Sora."
Riku gently pushed her back down, "What about Sora, Kairi?"
"He's holding off the heartless. He sent me back to warn the camp, but I was chased," She tried to get up again, whimpering from her injuries, "Shit...I need to get back there. He...needs my help."
"You're in no shape to help anyone."
"No! I need-"
"Kairi, I'll go back. Which way is the beach?"
She hesitated.
"Kairi!"
She laid back down, sinking into the cot.
"West," She breathed, "It's west of the camp."
Riku stood, brushing off his pants. He marched towards the exit.
"Riku…"
He paused, but didn't turn around.
"Nothing's going to happen to Sora. I promise."
He pushed back the tent flap, the cold night air sending a shiver through his body. He lengthened his stride, breaking into a run. The camp was in chaos. People running. Shouting. Unorganized and panicked. They'd never reach the beach in time.
If anything happens to him she'll never forgive me.
Riku drew his keyblade and plunged into the jungle. Heading west.
If anything happens to him I'll never forgive myself.
Author's Note:
So first, some notes on the last chapter. I believe it was The Keeper of Worlds who posted the review about how the last chapter ended with a major cliffhanger. This actually caught me off guard and I thought it was kind of hilarious. See, I knew/know exactly what's going to happen (for the most part) later in the story and I hadn't thought about what the ending of the chapter would be like for anyone else. So when I read that review I was like, "Oh yeah. I guess that is a cliffhanger." Ha. Just thought it was funny.
Anyways, on this week's episode of XIII explains why it took so long to update: honestly, I was playing way to much of everyone's favorite video game series. That's right. Kingdom Hearts. I platinumed Kingdom Hearts II Final Mix about a week ago (even beat Lingering Will on Proud mode! Hell yeah!) and I've beaten Terra's portion of Birth By Sleep. Hence, writing was shoved to the sidelines unfortunately. This chapter is the longest one so far though! I hope that makes up for it. As always, review like crazy you hooligans! And have a fantastic day!
XIII
