A/N: All I can say is that I'm in DESPERATE need of an inspiration injection. All of a sudden it seems such a struggle to write anything thanks to our old friend the writer's block. And I'm jumping at the first chance of getting into London or to some castle town as soon as it comes up. HUS is in DESPERATE need of a inspiration trip. Otherwise, it's dead dead dead. Like Magnetic Attraction right now (sorry to all fans of M.A. who are reading this. I can't get out a decent chapter for it and I feel like I'm whipping a dead horse in vain). If it's any consolation, I know where I want to go with this, and once I get to a point that I like, the rest should be easy (change of pace and all that). So reviewing me will make me want to work harder for you guys! So please, keep on reading and reviewing! For they are my...um...chocolate-chip shortcake! -very quickly running out of sweets that she likes- Thanks all! -huge kisses and hugs-

Revelation. An event that opens the eyes of those too blind to see the truth of what they are pursuing. It could also mean the catalyst to a series of events that could either cause the rise of a person or his downfall.

Such was the revelation of King Leon at how a body could become such a monster from lust for revenge and hatred. It had troubled him, made him question his own actions and thoughts. Had he himself, once so blinded by rage, become a monster? He seemed to believe so. It seemed like the loss of his young brother and the stiff price of victory over different kingdoms were linked together by his stubborn pride. What's more, it had clearly put people that he cared about in danger. Axel was in a guest room recovering from his injury, passed out from loss of blood and exhaustion. And only weeks beforehand, Zexion had been injured trying to sabotage a plot against the king. And now Sora…

It was a burden too heavy even for Leon to bear. But his own pride disallowed him to even show the slightest bit of the turmoil he was being put through. As a result, the king had pretty much locked himself away in his study, refusing audiences and planning ways of finding the only surviving member of his family on top of his royal duties.

Cloud had been unusually expressive with his relief for his brother's return, having embraced him tightly when the king and his men returned with Roxas, but the youth had been distant, almost frozen to the touch. It had become clear to the concubine later on that his brother's strange behaviour had been caused by the injured Axel, who now was laid down in a room to rest. Roxas had not left his side since last night, not having slept or eaten at all, and not having said a word to anyone, not even to his own brother. It worried Cloud. It truly did.

"You have to eat Roxas," he said softly, trying to push food towards the youth but Roxas would have none of it. "Roxas…please."

"It was my fault…" the blond youth finally said. Cloud went mute, very slowly putting a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "If I wasn't so gullible…if I weren't so useless…Axel wouldn't…he wouldn't…"

"Hush," Cloud whispered, giving Roxas a comforting squeeze. "Pessimistic talk will not help Axel get better."

The boy went silent, going back to looking at the man that lay there motionless on the bed, bandaged and cleaned from the previous nights encounter. Cloud watched his brother's hand stray towards his own wound on his neck, that too having been bandaged by swaddle. "I…don't want to be useless anymore Cloud…"

"You're not-"

"I am! I couldn't help you back at that battle! I couldn't help Axel! I couldn't even defend myself from Yazoo! Kairi had to come and help!"

"Wait…what?" Cloud looked astounded at the new knowledge that Yazoo had actually attacked his younger brother.

"I'm useless. And I'm tired of being just that. I want to be able to do something for once! I don't want to be the one that's always getting into trouble! I…I…"

Cloud brought him into an awkward side hug, but the younger blond shrugged him off. "I don't want to be the boy that sat on the sidelines and couldn't do a thing to help when it mattered most anymore…I had enough of that burden…"

"Roxas…"

"You should go Cloud. I'm sure you're needed somewhere."

For a moment, Cloud actually felt a bit hurt at being brushed off, but then again he understood the distress Roxas was going through. The younger blond had been kidnapped, been inches away from the face of death and had nearly lost someone he had clearly become very close to. He sighed and nodded. "Alright. I suggest you eat though. Axel's manservant seems the type to not let food go wasted."

"Try drink," Roxas stated dryly, putting on a brave face despite his melancholy thoughts.

Cloud smiled at his brother weakly and then shut the oak door behind him, leaning against it and sighing quietly, rubbing a hand across his face. How had such a night meant for celebration become such a nightmare? And not just for everyone, but for Leon especially. His younger brother was still lost, and it seemed that Riku had taken upon himself to find him. He closed his eyes.

"Riku," he murmured, "why are doing this alone?"

The group of rebels had stopped for the night once they were as far from the royal summer home as possible, but not once had they noticed someone following them under the cover of darkness. Riku had released the horse a while back once he had caught sight of the wagon moving at walking pace, knowing that he could keep up on foot if he treaded carefully. Once they had stopped, he had concealed himself in nearby bushes, knowing that the only way to gain the rebels trust was if he didn't look the part of the dutiful servant, but as the part of the rogue who was willing to blackmail them in order to gain something from them. With a deep breath, he started to wash his face and clothes in the dirt, tearing his clothing in a few places, ruffling up his hair and even took a knife to his hair to make himself appear as a beggar than a member of the royal household. He sighed. If his brothers could see him now, they would just want to murder him even more than they already did. Not that it mattered anymore anyway. He didn't consider himself a Jenova to any further extent than he considered himself a prisoner of Radiant Garden. It was strange how such things could change in such a short time.

Or maybe he had thought himself not a Jenova long before coming here, but just never realised it.

Shaking himself away from such thoughts, he made his way over to the campfire in the centre, announcing his entrance by kicking over a pile of logs that had been taken out of the caravan a little while ago.

"Hoi! Who's there?!" The group jumped to their feet, unsheathing their short swords and pointing them threateningly at the mysterious boy that had appeared out from nowhere. The boy remained firmly in his spot, toying with a small round log that he could easily wrap his hand around with one hand, looking at them with almost serene green eyes. "Who are ya laddie?"

"Ukir," the boy responded in a common accent, twiddling the log slowly in his hand. "I want to rest by your fire and have some food."

"What makes ya think we'd do that fer the likes of ye?!" an impetuous youthful Trabian, only just having grown a beard, demanded.

"I happen to know that you've got a precious cargo that I'm sure you wouldn't want anyone to know about," Ukir smiled lightly, his eyes always darting from one person to the next in the ten-strong group. The reaction from the Trabians was one of general puzzlement on how this strange boy knew about what they were transporting back to their chilly homeland. A Trabian with dark hair and a full beard plaited with brightly coloured strings strode forward, short sword tightly gripped in his right. Clearly he was the leader of the group.

"I dinnae ken how ye kenned aboot the lad, but ye ain't gonna be around to tell anyone aboot it!" He raised his sword, about to strike but the boy suddenly shot the log he held in his hands at his gut, effectively winding him. The silver-haired Ukir kicked the short sword out of his hand, grabbing the blade once he pushed the man to the floor and pressed it to his neck.

"Don't move," Ukir warned the others, his face still a picture of tranquillity. "My demands are this: give me safe passage to Trabia, a fire to warm myself up with, food, a place to sleep and a share of the ransom money, not only will I keep quiet about the boy, I'll take care of him and make sure he stays fit. After all, a corpse only fetches half the ransom, right?"

No one argued with this kind of logic. To the Trabians, Ukir was clearly a wild boy who, while not particularly blessed with physical strength, definitely could best them when it came to agility and brainpower. Indeed, it seemed foolish to make an enemy to a person who could just as easily hand information over to their pursuers. Unanimously, Ukir's demands were met quite easily, though the wild boy refused to give back their leader's sword, declaring the Trabians' word insecure if he didn't have some form of protection. Once again, no one dared to argue once Ukir revealed his abilities with the short sword. An unfortunate rebel had had his finger swiped off when the wild boy made his point that he was not to be trifled with.

Deep down though, Riku knew that the power "Ukir" held would only be for a short period. He had to act before the group reached the snowy wilds of Trabia, otherwise Riku would soon join his old comrades from the battlefield in the afterlife, and the prince himself would be without a person to protect him.

Zexion's face was buried in his hands, exhausted from relaying orders around the castle sending trackers and messengers across the kingdom to find the missing prince and the servant that seemed to have disappeared after leaving the stony clue the night before. Lack of sleep and the inability to understand how the castle's forces had let their guard down in their folly was getting the best of the chief advisor, having sprawled himself onto his bed to rest for a moment.

"I'll have those gatekeepers whipped," Zexion grumbled, narrowing his eyes at some imaginary spot on the ceiling. He barely moved a muscle when he heard the door to his chambers open with a tentative creak.

"If it's a domestic issue, please consult Kiros," he droned. "I have enough on my plate as it is."

"I'm afraid it's a domestic issue that only you can solve Zexion."

The petit advisor sat up slowly, glaring at the tall Bhujerban that dared to disturb him while he was trying to rest. "I have no time to deal with you Demyx. In case you have not realised, we're in the middle of a crisis here."

"I understand that," Demyx said quietly, moving towards him in a way that he almost seemed to glide across the floor. "I also understand that you're exhausting yourself."

"What are you talking about?" Zexion stood from the bed, as if trying to prove some point that he had to support in order to be contrary to the bard. "I'm fine. I can carry on and do what has to be done."

"You cannot lie to me Zexion," Demyx smiled easily, folding his arms across his chest. "You're exhausted. You should lie down."

"I have too many things to worry about." He made to pass, but the bard grabbed his arm tightly, his grip refusing to release the other. "Let go."

"No."

"Demyx…please."

The bard was silent, bringing the advisor close to him, wrapping his arms around the mellowed advisor. Zexion felt his heart beat rush to his ears, cursing himself under his breath for acting like some incandescent maiden. But the close proximity…the scent of Bhujerban spices wafting off from Demyx's lean build…the soft breaths fanning on the back of his neck…Zexion was battling within himself to pull away from this alluring and yet infuriating rhymester. And he was almost certain that it would be the same story all over again. "Let me go."

"Hmm…when you're not threatening to castrate me? No thank you," Demyx chuckled in a low teasing manner.

"If you love me you'll let me go," Zexion warned, knowing he was manipulating Demyx again but he had no time to play these games he and Demyx were often in stalemate over. As expected, Demyx allowed himself to be manipulated, just standing behind the smaller man, watching him. Zexion found it unnerving. "Thank you…"

"You really should rest though," Demyx insisted. "You're no use to anyone if you collapse from fatigue."

"I can assure you that will not be the case," Zexion stated firmly, turning around to face the bard. He nearly jumped back when Demyx's face leaned closer.

"That as it may be, I did also mean…" he trailed off, his eyes darting to Zexion's bed, smiling with amusement when he saw the deep scarlet cross the scandalised advisor's face.

"Out! Out!"

Faster than Demyx could tell, the bard found himself being kicked out of the room with a vigour that had been absent from Zexion. "You spoony bard!"

The bard could only chuckle, sitting outside the door in a blatant refusal to leave. Zexion's will was weakening, he could tell. Any more strain and the last thing on the advisor's mind would be his anger towards him.

And besides, Zexion was in clear need of someone to help keep him standing when he was like this.

Cloud came out of the king's chambers with the lion skin cloak that Leon always wore in public appearances, having noticed that the king still had not left his study and it was getting bitterly cold. The cloak would be ample enough to keep him warm, as would setting up a fire in the fireplace. Of course, it was doubtless that his actions would be under suspicion. Even he was starting to mistrust his own intentions.

"You sure you're not going to be in trouble for having that?"

The blond turned swiftly on his heel at the voice, his eyes meeting with those of the king of Midgard who had yet to return to his own kingdom. Cloud held his tongue at being suddenly surprised like that.

"I…I was fetching this for him," Cloud muttered, keeping the cloak firmly in his arms, blue eyes glowing in a challenging way, like they always did. Zack raised an amused brow, smiling lightly.

"I heard that the king's new concubine was a wild wolf that needed to either be tamed, or hunted down and skinned for his fur," he commented. "But maybe the master needs to be tamed by the pet as well."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Zack dismissed it, waving a hand jokily. "Just the musings of a young king. Well, not as young as Leon of course, but he acts like an old man most of the time with all his worrying."

The blond blinked, finding this man to be quite strange, and yet…he seemed wise beyond his own years. His hands clenched around the fur of Leon's cloak, shaking Zack's words out of his head. "Excuse me, your highness." With a respectful bow, the concubine turned to leave, the words from the foreign sovereign locked up within the corridors of his mind to ponder over later.

He waited for them all to lay sound asleep before making his next move, stepping lightly towards the wagon that held his ward. Climbing aboard, he found the prince blindfolded, gagged and tied-up, struggling against his bonds although he was clearly not strong enough to break them. Riku bent down, taking the gag off swiftly. Sora gasped as it was pulled away, quick frightened breaths escaping from his reddened mouth. "Who's that? What do you want?"

"Shhhh shhhh," Riku whispered, putting one cold finger against Sora's lips. "It's alright. It's just me."

"Ri-"

"Hush," he hissed, maybe a bit too harshly, but he could not risk to be recognised. "I want you to listen very carefully to me. Your kidnappers know me as 'Ukir', and for now, I've taken control by blackmailing them. Under no circumstances are you to call me by my name until I have figured out a way to escape. Do you understand me, my prince?"

Sora nodded his head, gulping lightly. To him, this did not sound like the soothing voice of his personal servant. This was the voice of a quick-witted thinker who would do anything to achieve his goal, even kill. It somewhat…alarmed the young prince. Then again, Sora had no inkling of Riku's past, but now wasn't the time to doubt. His life was now in the hands of someone he had come to trust his hopes and dreams in. There was no turning back now.

"Good," Riku whispered softly. "Now, be a good captive and co-operate. It'll make things go much more smoothly."

Cloud came into the study quietly, not wanting to disturb the king if he was in a foul mood. He had learned from experience that an infuriated Leon was not a person to be trifled with at all if all those nights being at the brunt of the king's frustrations had taught him anything. He padded across the rush strewn floor in his leather boots, seeing the king laying sprawled on his desk, finally having given up to sleep. Taking a deep breath he walked around behind him, wrapping the lion-skin around Leon's shoulders cautiously so not to disturb him. The desk seemed to have maps scattered across its surface, inkwell almost dry and quill pen resting lightly under the king's hand. What caught the concubine's eye was the bejewelled letter opener, the blade curved like a Dalmascan scimitar. It seemed tempting…and Cloud was almost going to give in, but he stopped himself from reaching for it. Killing Leon was not on his top priorities, as much as it pained him to even think of such an idea. Besides, he did help to find Roxas, who meant more to Cloud than ever before.

It was then he had his revelation. No, he couldn't kill Leon now, if not for saving his brother's life, but for the fact that Leon was offering to return Hollow Bastion to its rightful owners for a price. He had to go through with this bargain when his conscious didn't weigh so heavy. Swallowing down his pride, he pulled the furry cloak a little more over the king's sleeping form, taking quick steps away from him and the desk. He didn't want to stay for any longer than he had to. He didn't trust himself.

He didn't know how long it had been, but Axel wasn't going to deny it felt nice to be where he was. That being propped up in bed with a hand gentle stroking through the tuft of blond hair attached to his squire's head. He could do without the aching pain in his stomach but he wasn't going to complain. After all, it was his own fault for letting his rage get the better of him. Roxas snuffled a bit underneath his hand, his paling face tired and withdrawn from anxiety and despair, trying to push the hand away but the older man's hand was obstinate, still feeling the soft hair beneath his palm and fingers.

He closed his eyes, knowing that he had to get back on form again as quickly as possible if he was ever going to make that journey to Dalmasca's capitol. If he didn't, he faced a journey either back to Aurelias (which was preferable) or to Borealias to be cared for by his soon-to-be extended family (which was not preferable at all due to a certain…reason). He wondered if it was possible to mask the agony he was feeling in his gut. It was probable. This injury to his stomach was nothing compared to the almost threatening chance of amputations he faced in most battles. Yes, he could probably get away with it. Well, if he could fool Kairi that is. The girl seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to her brother and injuries.

Another snuffle from Roxas as he lifted his head heavily, forcing Axel to move his hand away as the other opened his bleary sapphire-hued eyes. The knight smiled quietly once the gears inside Roxas' brain finally jumped to a start.

"Axel?!"

"That would be me."

"Are you alright?! Shouldn't you be laying down?! Vexen said-!"

"Vexen acts like an overprotective mother hen. I should be laying down, but I'm not in immediate pain, so I won't. And yes, I'm fine. Stop worrying."

"Oh." Roxas calmed down a little, looking at him with concern but keeping quiet. He kept silent for a long while until he mumbled so quietly Axel had to strain his ears to hear it, "I'm sorry…"

"For what?"

"For causing you so much trouble…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Let me refresh your memory: you are stuck in bed with a huge gash in your stomach."

"What? This?" The redhead poked the bandage that covered the wound, feeling a stinging pain but keeping a straight face. "This is nothing."

"So you say. But that doesn't convince me. As far as I know, you surviving that attack was a miracle in itself."

"What? My life is just one miracle after another," Axel countered with a grin. His face then fell into a serious frown. "What of the bitch and her cohorts?"

"In the dungeons," Roxas responded quietly. "They're awaiting trial."

"They don't deserve it."

"Everyone deserves a fair trial," Roxas whispered quietly. "You can't decide who deserves to be fairly judged and who doesn't."

"Let me guess. Fair trials for all at Hollow Bastion."

"Yes."

"I wouldn't doubt that there was some deception going on in the background," Axel commented offhandedly. He didn't expect Roxas to stand up and glare at him.

"Do you and every other person in this bloody kingdom have to have a snipe at my homeland?! I'm getting sick of it!"

The redhead blinked, then scowled. So his squire was growing a backbone. Then fine, they can have a squabble. "Remember who you're speaking to."

"I don't care anymore! I worried myself sick about you but now, I'm wondering if I should've even hoped to have been saved by you!"

"Hold your tongue," Axel snapped harshly, feeling a terrible twinge in his heart at Roxas' statement. "I may change my mind about keeping you."

"Do then!" Roxas retorted, turning on his heel and slamming the door, not even realising the look of pain crossing Axel's face. The warrior regretted his choice of words…as did his new squire.

In her chambers, Edea rested her face into her hands, not liking the reading she had received from her cards. It was almost as if the future was just immersed in a thick blanket of moorland fog, obstructing her vision to get a clear view of the situation. All she knew was that the king had a difficult choice to make -clearly between staying and supervising the search for his brother and his servant and the peace treaty talks in Rabanastre- and it appeared that the one person represented by the 'Strength' card was going to influence the decision. The one aligned to the celestial lion.

What was also clear to the former Regent was that there would be more conflict and unsettling events with the amount of reversed cards from the suit of swords, the suit of misfortune and despair. And then the ace of cups and two of cups had popped up again. Truly, could such emotions and feelings of love ever develop in such troubling times? Edea hoped that that small light of hope would shine through the darkness that surrounded them. She wasn't sure how much calamity any of the powerful and wilful men that were in her midst could take.

What bothered her most was the 'Death' card. Things were going to change…or someone was going to die…very soon. And thus, this was the sorceress' revelation.