Chapter Seven: In the Wake of Nightmares
The Streets of London, shortly after Vanitas' departure…
Aqua scoured the debris covering the streets for survivors, removing the wreckage of buildings the Nobody toppled and aiding civilians in whatever way she could. To the confused, traumatized Londoners, in her regal armor and cape and with such miraculous powers, a beautiful face, a calming voice, peculiar hair color, and a demeanor that gave hope to all around her, she appeared as a guardian angel. The children especially took a liking to her and she met them with a kindness befitting a hero of Light.
In truth, she had never been more anxious in her life.
Her orders relayed through Vanitas were to regroup with Terra and meet Xehanort on the Jolly Roger, but she couldn't return to search for her old friend back at the opera house so long as there were innocents to save from a disaster she failed to prevent. And now that their war with the Heartless was directly responsible for publicly harming so many, the higher mission demanded she save the lives she endangered.
If only I knew if Terra's still alive or dead. Knowing one or the other would give me peace or understanding, but never having the chance to look for him after that explosion separated us…
Anguished, she forced the thought aside as she continued digging through rubble in the snow and healing victims when they needed it. Other civilians and policemen joined in the rescue operation, followed soon by former victims who felt they were well enough to lend a hand. In minutes, Londoners from all across the neighborhood arrived on the scene to save whomever they could, and all rallied under Aqua's instructions. In the community's collective post-traumatic understanding, what humans were they to challenge an angel who commanded such miraculous powers?
They were terrified of everything transpired, more so than they'd ever been in all their lives, but in the wake of carnage and in the midst of despair, they still knew compassion. After beholding the otherworldly apparition which came so dangerously close to destroying them, all those fears of foreign superpowers, arms races, imperial conquests, military alliances, rebellions, and the threat of their first ever world-war seemed suddenly so distant and irrelevant. There was only the now.
Miles above, where the snowfall began, Xehanort surveyed Aqua's and the community's efforts with magic-amplified vision, and he smiled proudly at the altruism his student inspired. But then, her philanthropy is one of Eraqus' achievements—not mine.
"She's a remarkable woman," he said with his back turned to Ventus and Smee. "Without her guidance, these people would no doubt collapse into a panic and cause even more destruction. The apparition of the crocodile should've driven them insane, but she's subdued their fear and given them something to work towards. She truly is a Keyblade Master."
Ven stayed silently behind a few yards back, awed and intimidated by the report of what a larger-than-life hero his friend had become while he only descended into piracy. Where he once felt too ashamed by what he'd become to ever see his friends again, he was now terrified.
Ventus gripped his coat tighter, self-conscious of the half-full flask inside, and trembled in the winter air. The rum's temporary warming effect had worn off and somehow made the cold even colder. I always knew things would be different when we met again. Very…very different. I always knew and it made me sick just to think of it. But now—now that' I've fallen so far into the Darkness and they've become bigtime heroes, how am I—? How could I possibly—?
Xehanort looked over his shoulder to the blonde pirate. "Are you ready to face her again?"
Ven silently gasped and clenched his coat tighter, his eyes quivering and on the brink of tears at the question. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came and he looked away with a stifled whimper—the most wretched he'd ever felt in the short few years of memory he still retained. A pathetic end to his glorious life as a pirate.
Xehanort observed him knowingly. "I see. Then, there is no hurry."
Bitter relief washed over the boy who, for a time, forgot he was still only a boy. All those adventures and revelries he indulged in to play at being a man amounted to nothing at the mere notion of confronting those who truly were adults. He hated himself for being afraid of his friends.
Xehanort continued, "Go retrieve Vanitas. His flight to Neverland may take several hours, and if he is injured or unable to make the journey back, he will need your aid."
A semblance of nerve returning to him, Ventus scowled and challenged his elder like the humiliated teenager he was, "You trust me to leave your sight? How do you know I won't run off?"
The old Master turned sidelong towards him, his expression unamused. "My boy, I've trusted you to roam the universe beyond my sight for over seven weeks now, and that was only your first assignment. What are a few hours more?" He paused a moment to consider, then added solemnly, "And, if you should decide to pursue your own path after Vanitas is returned to us, I will not stop you."
Ven and Smee's eyes widened, astonished at what they'd heard.
Xehanort hung his head, almost in mournful acceptance. "Terra and Aqua will never know where you went and we'll make no effort to track you. Your life will be yours and yours alone, with no crotchety old Masters to stop you. If this is truly the freedom you crave, take it."
The old man closed his eyes in the tense silence that followed. He felt the weight of the wayward apprentice's conflicting desires and raw emotions permeate the area—the greatest crossroads and responsibility he'd ever faced in his young life. A flash of light later, Ventus flew away, armored and atop his Keyblade glider to find Vanitas in space. He would have a lot to think about on the journey.
The old Master inhaled a sharp intake of air through his nose and exhaled winter's visible breath through his mouth, but Mr. Smee was the first to speak. "Do you think he'll be back?"
Xehanort spoke as a father worried—yet accepting—he would never see his prodigal son again. "The heart is not always an easy thing to read. One as young and muddled as his will always be a challenge to bear with. I fear not even he knows what he wants from life. But it will be a long journey; he'll have enough time to work things out."
The midnight hour sounded from Big Ben's towering form—one of the structures left untouched by the Nobody's destruction—heralding the advent of February the second: the day a world on the brink of war would discover it wasn't alone in the universe.
When the lightning storm settled, the old Master parted the clouds and revealed the contour of the Jolly Roger to the amazed citizens below who beheld one marvel after another in the last hour. Mr. Smee lowered the ship to just a few hundred yards above a safe area where no citizens or structures could be endangered, and then Xehanort levitated himself and his half-Shadow servant into a graceful descent to meet Aqua and the astounded masses below, the latter of whom exclaimed in wonder:
"Could it be? More angels?"
"Praise the Lord!"
"We need all the miracles we can get."
"Is the giant demon gone for good?"
"Just tell us what to do, sires—we'll do anything you say!"
The old man chuckled to himself, enjoying the adoration, though it wasn't his primary intention. But Mr. Smee felt a different sensation; for the past two-hundred years, he'd lived among pirates who only struck fear among those innocents they encountered—but now, with his new station and new master, the people welcomed him as a savior. It was all so overwhelming to the little man and he felt no shame in the tears of joy which streamed down the human side of his face.
Few words were exchanged between Aqua and the two new arrivals in the hours that passed as they lent their skills and powers to cleaning up London, the citizens aiding in whatever way they could. And most of the words the Keybearers spoke were brief orders or directions to the people or to each other to help clear away wreckage from the disaster.
Xehanort explained to Aqua early on to avoid confusion, "The half-Shadow is Mr. Smee. He was one of Hook's crew and has since sworn his loyalty to our cause."
Aqua only nodded, already gathering the demi-Heartless was somehow an ally. The story how was only a formality.
A short while later into the cleanup, Aqua finally asked, "How—how's Ventus? Is he alright?"
Her Master answered bitterly, "He is fine. I sent him to assist Vanitas should he require it."
Aqua's eyes widened and panic tinged her voice, "You sent him to face the crocodile?"
"Not necessarily. If Vanitas succeeds in his mission, young Ventus will need only guide him back to the Jolly Roger. It is only a precaution, but I imagine they'll be exhausted from the journey."
"Where did you send them?"
"To the husk of Neverland: a fitting prison for the Nobody."
A horrified pause, then Aqua ventured, "You really don't know if they'll be okay, do you?"
The old man didn't speak, but only grunted and gently shook his head. That was all the answer Aqua needed and she swallowed what heavy fear and concern she could and returned to the matter at hand.
Some hours later, when most of the rubble had been cleared away and further municipal teams arrived to lend aid in the search and rescue operations, the two Keybearers and a number of other rescuers took a short reprieve while some civilians passed out water and small meals to maintain their energy. As the Keyblade Masters briefly sat off to the side with a magic fire betwixt them for warmth and took their refreshments, Xehanort finally inquired between sips of his coffee what he'd been wondering since he arrived on the surface.
"What's become of Terra? Why isn't he with you?"
Disheartened at the question yet half-relieved that he finally asked it, the blue-haired woman solemnly lowered her own mug of coffee and stared into its contents, unable to look her master in the eye. "I haven't seen him since the bomb went off at the theater."
"A bomb?" That grabbed Xehanort's attention. "How in blazes was a bomb involved? Capturing Hook should've been a simple task—swift and silent. What went wrong—?"
"He had backup," Aqua dared to cut him off, not with animosity or disrespect, but simply to confess the truth as quickly as possible. She clenched her eyes shut. "He caught us off-guard and he threw a bomb inside the theater and…" Tired, she allowed her eyelids to open and turned to face her elder. "I really don't know what's happened to him. I know Hook made it out as far as that house over there because that's where Vanitas retrieved his body, but Terra…" She sighed in frustration. "I—I wish I knew what happened! Is Terra still alive? How did Hook die? And if Terra was the one to kill him, why didn't he come back for me? There's just too much that doesn't add up and—!" She hung her head and allowed the tears to fall as her shoulders intermittently bobbed. "Master, he could be dead. He may've been dead for hours and I still haven't found his body. If he's alive, then why isn't he here?"
The weight of her words fell heavy on Xehanort, whose gaze fell distant and heartbrokenly profound as he considered the unknown conditions of all three of his missing apprentices. "Then, we may be the last ones left."
There was some further silence between the recovering pair in the diminishing snowfall, but at length, Aqua wiped at her tears and replied, "No. I'm not ready to accept that." A fierce and rising determination shone in her tired eyes. "Until we find their bodies, we've got to assume they're still alive. They've survived too much to die like this."
Still more hours passed, more wreckage was cleared, and more citizens were rescued, many driven off to the hospital for treatment and others to the morgue. By the earliest sliver of dawn, when Aqua was the last of the world-traveling trio to give into fatigue and she lurched over with her hands on her knees and deactivated her armor to allow the cold air to envelop her through the tattered evening gown, a policeman cautiously approached her, still intimidated by the vast powers she possessed.
"Pardon me, madam. Are you Ms. Aqua?"
Wheezing from exhaustion amid what rubble remained, she nodded her head and answered, "Yes. I am."
The uniformed copper froze in silent wonder a short time in her presence until he remembered his task and continued, "Are—are you in acquaintance with a Mr. Terra?"
Her eyes widened and she forced herself upright at eye-level with the cop, clenching her hands on his shoulders in wild desperation. "Yes! Yes I am! Do you know where he is?"
The policeman stuttered a moment. "He—he's fine, madam! A man and a woman checked him in at the hospital with the other survivors and the doctors are doing their best to treat his injuries. Only…he refuses to stay in bed and the staff fears he may reopen several wounds if someone doesn't calm him down—"
Aqua embraced him in a tight hug, relief overwhelming her at the good news. Xehanort heard enough from nearby and allowed a thankful smile to calm him. Not wasting another moment, Aqua took off running across the city to the hospital, so caught up in the excitement she never considered flying there on Rainfell. Welcome tears of jubilation poured from her eyes and she laughed between gasps in all the rapture. The sun steadily rose in her trek as adrenaline carried her forward despite all exhaustion, and when she reached the hospital, the nurses knew at once who she was from Terra's description. They pointed her in her friend's direction, "He's right this way, ma'am," and she carefully darted through the crowded lobby and hallways until she spied the brilliant emerald glow of a healing spell shine amid a group of injured patients. Those among the crowd of wounded or dying gasped and cheered as another of their own was restored by the silver-haired miracle-worker who cured them with only a word and the touch of his hands.
In the bewilderment of euphoria, Aqua forced herself to a halt in the crowd when she finally beheld her long-lost companion. Breathless from everything transpired, it took some extra seconds for Aqua to fully comprehend the wounds Terra sustained; tightly-wrapped gauze covered the bloody pit that was once his right eye, and a sizeable white bandage adorned his left cheek to stop the bleeding of what would no doubt become a deep and jagged scar. All other wounds and medical dressings were hidden beneath his hospital gown, but Aqua could discern from his limited movements and the wheelchair he sat in where these injuries were and how much they pained him. Above all else, she was thrilled to find him alive, but was also deeply mortified to learn how their failure to swiftly capture Hook—her failure to detect those Invisibles a fraction of a moment sooner—left Terra so wounded and scarred while she emerged virtually unscathed. How could I have let this happen? …Terra, what happened to you? Why couldn't I protect you…?
She swallowed the immediate guilt and placed her hands on a nearby child on a gurney and exclaimed, "Heal!" enveloping the small girl in that ethereal light and alerting the battered and bleeding crowd that another messiah had come to save them. They turned to her in wonder and were soon upon her as well, each of them pleading to be next when they already knew from Terra of the short recharge period that passed between cure spells. Terra looked up to her in that same amazement, surprised to find her there of all places as she tried to pass through the flocking masses to reach him. And amid the arms that reached, the hands that scrabbled, and the voices that clamored, she stretched her own arm forward to reach Terra, who painfully rose to his feet from the wheelchair the nurses provided for him, until her hand could touch his cheek and they embraced one another in an intimate hug, clinging to each other in the surging relief that flooded their weary hearts in the wake of all the nightmares they endured.
