King Mickey is already moving towards the oak doors, shouting orders to the archers to ready themselves and use whatever weapons they have to hold back the oncoming darkness. His royal court wizard is already scrambling around the halls, quaking at the Captain of the Guard to assemble his men. Another strike, and a turret on the northeast end crumples like a house of cards.
He grabs his sword, its blade a brilliant gold with a silver hilt, and straps it to his waist. Despite the ongoing blathering of his wizard, the King simply brushes him aside and continues on his path towards the royal gardens.
First he stops into the royal library and finds his wife, stunning in her pink gown. She turns away from her window, panic striking her beautiful features. Her advisor, Daisy clad in a long purple gown is next to her, her hands on the Queen's shoulders in comfort. The Queen simply sees the sword on his waist and she rushes to his arms. Tears stream her face, and the King pulls away and wipes them with his thumbs. "I shall return. You stay here." He calmly orders.
She nods her head and kisses her beloved's lips. He had stopped the chaos that enveloped the town months ago, few to little casualties. But this, the way the guards described the perpetrator, he seems . . . unworldly.
"Donald, Goofy, with me." He orders. Kissing his Queen's forehead, he then departs, his court wizard and captain out into the gardens.
He and his two men are on horseback, leading the small armada of guards out of the gates and towards the town. The gates part and sentries block off citizens as the King rides towards the danger.
The three of them keep on a straight narrow of road, thankful that the guards are already escorting the terrified to the castle and keeping them on the sidewalks. Hooves thunder on the stone, never faltering even as the entire town seems to shake again, and another turret slowly crumbles, bringing with it a chunk of the wall.
Guards are rushing to aid and escort citizens out of the way of falling bricks that topple to the other side of the wall. Everyone is sprinting, holding up dresses, hanging onto hats as they flee.
The male who had greeted them at the gate, he is already stalking the streets, furthering the herding of the citizens. More cloaked members join him, residents immediately recognizing their dark purple wrappings and black cloaks that pool at their feet.
The King halts his horse, and his men stop their pursuit as they spot the shadow cloaked figure as he just slashes the throat of one man with his one gleaming blade, and stabs the stomach of another with a bejeweled dagger. The King and the horses of his men immediately whine and rear in fear. He steadies his stallions as the young man angles his head towards them.
This is the god of death incarnate.
"I recognize you." The King breathes. "You're the son of Cloud Skyes. Roxas."
It is not with any mortal man's expression or voice that he smiles and says. "It is an honor, your majesty."
The wind blows back his hood, and when it falls, several men whimper and gasp. His court wizard and captain's breathing increase and they let their horses take a few steps back.
He is make of pale, porcelain skin, unfathomable beauty, and it is carved with glittering black veins. Even from the distance, the King can see the devouring emptiness in his eyes. It seeps towards them like blood in a river.
"Gods above and lords save us." A guard breathes.
Roxas' smile widens, revealing too-white teeth and pointed canines, and his turquoise eyes gleam brighter.
"He is not mortal, your Majesty." Goofy snivels.
Roxas stares at the man that rules the kingdom, or rather creature. The King is no bigger than the waistline of a full grown man.
And that's because he is nothing but a mouse.
Roxas used to always understand why it is he wanted the King dethroned so badly; what kind of kingdom are they to have a mouse rule over them. A mouse! And his court wizard is nothing but a temperamental duck and an airheaded dog. They are the proof that magic had existed, as they had human forms, of which King Mickey was already on the throne beforehand, but once magic disappeared, and their true forms were revealed, a meeting was conducted and debated. And Mickey emerged as king still.
His father, having use the excuse of having a man ruling on a throne, it was easy for him to gather an alliance of men and women behind him. Thus forming the Guilds of Twilight Town.
Roxas now looks at the man with degrading annoyance and disgrace.
As one, apart from Roxas, the Faceless assassins turn to the shadows behind them and step aside, heads bowed. Then, stalking towards the inner gate, Tifa appears.
Unlike her son, she is not beautiful, at least not in the unworldly status that he ranks. She bares the beauty of mortals. She is scarred and powerfully built, and armed to the teeth; wearing a torque of obsidian. She sits on a horse of midnight hair and her armor emanates with a purplish glow.
The King waits for her to say something, to parlay and offer a choice between yielding to her power, or death, to give some speech to break their morale. But Tifa looks upon Twilight Town with a slow, almost delighted sweep of her head, draws her iron blade, and points at the King and his men.
The King can't react fast enough as a whip of darkness hurls for them, and the next thing he knows he is toppling to the ground, rolling through puddles of blood as his horse shrieks out in terror as its neck is severed completely, and its knees chopped off with a swoop of a blade. Roxas is there, his blades gleaming with blood as he crosses his arms to decapitate one guard and uncrosses them to slice at two more. He doesn't aim for a particular place just mindlessly slashing, but still cutting deep gashes that pool with blood instantly.
Strong arms grab the King and lift him, and he finds his captain and court wizard already smeared with grim and dirt of the gutters. The King looks to find Tifa with her sword lowered, and she gives a simple jerk of her chin and her other members draw their weapons and build their way into a run before following the young Heir of Assassins.
His Majesty rarely caught a glimpse of the son of Cloud Skyes, and whenever he did, it was nothing more than a wraith of shadows, and a glimmer of blue eyes. But this . . . this cannot be Cloud's son. This boy is nothing of this world. He is ungodly fast, lethally skilled and heartless ruthless.
Even if his knowledge is vague, King Mickey knows an Elven warrior when he sees one. But how Tifa, a simple Guild Master, had managed to acquires one bewilders him.
Around him, as he runs in the opposite direction, he hears countless people screaming and wailing. Some falling to the ground as daggers pierce the backs or are tackled by a person with a purple cloak.
As another shot of darkness aims for the King, he blocks with his arm, bracing for the pain. But it never comes. The King opens his eyes and finds his captain with his shield standing over him. Then his court wizard is running towards the boy, wielding his staff. He aims the tip towards him and a bolt of lightning shoots for him.
But Roxas holds up his forearm, and the lightning ricochets off the metallic vambrace and strikes the blue-tiled roof, the crack sounding across the sky. Then the young assassin is in front of Donald and he knocks the wizard's staff aside before slamming his fist into his stomach. Donald grunts in pain and stumbles back towards Goofy's feet.
"Gawrsh!" Goofy wails. Then he barely covers his face with his shield as Roxas' blade strikes the metal. It rings out in a hair-raising shriek that creates goosebumps across the King's forearms. Roxas' dagger strikes the shield again, and this time Goofy leaps back and away from the King, and thankfully the assassin follows his strategy. Not because he is oblivious, but because he is trying to enjoy the moment. Tantalizing his prey.
With every collisions the metal makes with the shield, the sound booms all around the air, reverberating in his ears; mimicking the sound of grumbling thunder. He and Goofy dance back and forth, Goofy's shield getting dented and scraped with scratches.
Then on one final clang, Goofy holds the pressure of Roxas' blades against his shield, but his arms quiver. Then Roxas grimly smiles and then retreats back short enough the whip up his foot and knock Goofy's shield off of his arm. Then he spins and kicks Goofy in the on the side, sending him skipping across the stone towards the King and Wizard.
"We must retreat!" his court wizard Donald orders. Despite him wanting to stay and fight, retreating after he's barely drawn his blade, the King knows when to pick his battles, and this one is merely a death wish.
He pushes to his feet and runs, with his two trusted men and a bray of guards flanking him at all sides.
"May I peruse the hunt, mother?" Roxas asks, his voice husky with a deepened tone of a demon.
"You may." She replies. "And please, by all means feel free to play with your prey."
Roxas gives another wicked smile and draws his blade with unearthly grace. And then he bursts into a sprint.
King Mickey doesn't know how long the young Assassin Heir has been hunting him. It has been nearly a year since he had sent out his guards to dispatch the riot that was starting at the gallows for an execution. But the Guilds had gone unnervingly quiet after that; so much that the citizens ever thought they had finally quit.
But now he almost feels regret at the unearthly power and skill Roxas holds, and his clothes making him look more wraith than human. He can't hear footsteps, but he knows Roxas is behind them, melting in and out of shadows and mist.
He and his men take alleys and side streets, leaping over walls, zigzagging across the slums. Anything to shake him, to wear him down. He'd make his final stand in a quiet street if need be. There, he will take out his blades strapped to his skin and make the boy pay for the carnage he had created and all of the years of fear and torture they had lived in.
Haughty, stupid bastard.
King Mickey and his two men stagger as they round a corner, their breathing ragged and raw. They only have three daggers between them. They will make them count, though. When he'd spotted the boy just from the distance of his riding horse, the King had immediately taken note of the broadsword hovering over one of his shoulders and the assortment of gleaming, wicked-looking blades strapped to his hips.
The three of them are halfway down the cobblestone alley when they realize it is a dead end, the far wall too high to climb.
"Oh no," the captain of the guard panics. "What do we do?"
"Donald?" King Mickey addresses his wizard.
"I can't teleport us, not yet." He breathes.
"Here, then." The King answers. He draws his dagger and turns to the open street behind them. They will soon have the boy begging for mercy before he cuts the assassin into little pieces.
His men ready their weapons. Blue mist drifts by, and a rat scurries across the narrow passage. There is no noise, only the sounds of distant battles and screams of agony. Perhaps they have lost him. That bastard man made the biggest mistake of his life when he crowned the boy his heir to his "dark empire."
They wait another moment, still watching the open street entrance, and then allows themselves to breathe, surprised to find them a little disappointed.
"Master Assassin indeed!" Donald provokes. "It wasn't that hard to lose him."
"Donald." The King warns.
"Now we shall go back, stop the invasion, and rid this city of their filth and shadows." Donald chuckles, flipping his staff in his hand.
And then he appears.
While his body is muted by shadows, his eyes still glow with a feral gleam and his closed-lip smile remains as he walks with swagger.
One step at a time he approaches them, the tip of his sword dragging across the stone, stirring up sparks. He will really, really, really enjoy making the King suffer. And in this forgotten street, he can take his own sweet time doing what he wanted.
King Mickey and his two friends retreat to the end of the alley, only stopping when their backs hit the stone wall. In a narrow space, the three of them can overpower the boy. This isn't a frilly, ridiculous competition run by nobility. Here, any rules applied.
Roxas doesn't say anything as he nears. But then his arms twitch and Donald and Goofy each wail in pain as their shoulders are impaled with golden daggers, their long blades buried to the hilt, pinning them to the wall.
Roxas is still as silent as his footsteps. And Mickey doesn't say anything as he rushes at him, swiping for the assassin's head with both blade and staff.
Roxas steps aside, dodging him with maddening ease. Kicky lunges again. But faster than he can follow, Roxas ducks and slashes his sword across the King's shins.
He hits the ground before he feels the pain. The world flashes black and grey and red, and agony tears at him. A dagger still left in his hand, he scuttles backwards towards the wall. But his legs won't respond, and his arms stain to pull him through the damp filth.
"Your Majesty!" Goofy cries.
The King hits the wall, blood pouring from his legs. Bone has been sliced. He will not be able to walk. He can still find a way to make Roxas pay, though.
Roxas stops a few feet away and sheathes his sword. He draws a long, jeweled dagger.
Donald swears at Roxas, the filthiest words he can think of.
Roxas merely chuckles, and faster than a striking asp, Roxas has one of Mickey's arms against the wall, the dagger glinting.
Pain rips through Mickey's right wrist, then his left as it, too, is slammed into the stone. The King screams – truly screams – as he finds his arms pinned to the wall by two daggers.
His blood is shining red in the sunlight.
"Mickey!" Goofy screams.
Donald thrashes, cursing Roxas again and again. The King will bleed to death unless he pulls his arms from the wall.
With unworldly silence, Roxas crouches before the King and lifts his chin with another dagger. Mickey pants as Roxas brings his face close to the King's. There is nothing beneath his cowl – nothing of this world.
He has no face.
"You've ruled on the throne long enough." Roxas says, his voice like gravel. He turns the dagger, pressing it into his neck.
And then without even an inhale of breath, Roxas buries another dagger the king hadn't realized Roxas had been holding into his thigh. So deep that the King feels the reverberation as it hits the cobblestone beneath. The King's scream shatters out of him, and he writhed, his wrists rising on the blades.
"You precious little wife will be next." Roxas says. Calm, so calm.
"Gold," King Mickey moans. "I have gold."
Roxas draws yet another dagger and shoves it into Mickey's other thigh, piercing again to the stone. Mickey shrieks – shrieks to gods who do not save him. "She's a pretty young thing."
"Please, leave her alone! I'll do anything. Anything!"
After a heartbeat, Roxas withdraws the daggers from his thighs. King Mickey almost soils himself at the pain, at the relief.
"Thank you." He weeps, even as he thinks of how he will punish the assassin. Roxas sits back on his heels and stares at the king. "Thank you."
But then he brings up another dagger, its edge serrated and glinting, and hovers it close to his hand.
"Pick a finger." Roxas says. Mickey trembles and shakes his head. "Pick a finger."
"P-please." A wet warmth fills the seat of his pants.
"Thumb it is."
"N-no. I . . . I'll give you everything!" Still, Roxas brings the blade closer, until it rests against the base of his thumb. "Don't –!"
And then his prayers are finally answered as an arrow shoots straight for Roxas' head, of which he catches in his free hand. But it diverts his attention form the King.
The moment Roxas catches the arrow, another dark figure goes to strike him in the head, but Roxas brings his forearm up and the foot of the perpetrator hits the metal. He pushes off before Roxas has the chance to grab his ankle, and then Roxas weaves out of the way as another fist comes plowing, intended to hit his jaw. A third is waiting for the Elven assassin with two daggers drawn, though the Elven assassin evades the blades easily and blocks even as he and the third cloaked figure dances with him.
Three figures wean the Elven assassin backwards, and then two more drop down in front of the king. One is definitely older than the other. Their dark hoods cover their heads, masks conceal the lower of their faces. All the King can see are their eyes of blue and green.
"Please," he begs, shaking his head slightly.
"We're here to help." says the older male. The King can see bits of red beneath the hood.
Up ahead, Roxas swipes and slashes at the fabric of his two opponents' hoods, revealing their heads. Maleek, Cloud and Vanitas leap back and stop in front of the King and his two men, of which Axel and Sora try their best to pry them free.
"Come on, Roxas." Maleek says. Though he is still rattled at how different Roxas looks. Worry crawls up his spine as he begins to think of the troubles that bring with staying in an Elven form for too long. "We don't want to hurt you."
The two assassins only receive a vicious snarl as Roxas spins his dagger in his hands.
"Anybody got a plan?" asks Vanitas.
"Yeah, try and stay alive." Cloud answers.
"Anybody got a good plan?" Maleek chimes. He charges forward and though Roxas blocks each of his combat hits, Maleek still manages to grab one of Roxas' multiple cloaks and spin and yanks park of the fabric off of the boy's body. Though the result is him receiving a punch to the face.
In the moment of gathering, they each take a moment to observe the new set of clothing that no doubt Tifa must've given him.
He wears a high collared sleeveless black shirt, black pants and boots, and a single sleeve covering his left arm, and a half-skirt on his left leg. They can only assume it conceals weapons. Roxas gained a new pauldron, and his chest is covered by two straps, held in place by a badge representing Fenrir, the Wolf God that has come to be associated with him.
None of them say anything as Vanitas is the next to charge, and despite the sound of their weapons clanging together, ensuring a timely fight, Roxas easily sideswipes Vanitas' blade before whacking his knee into his side and careening Vanitas over his shoulder and out of the alley with Maleek. Cloud is immediately there, and the two spar father out into the open street.
Once Cloud receives an array of cuts on his forearms and a kick to the groin, Maleek is already there to swing his blade at Roxas as he takes Cloud's arm, twisting it at an odd angle and kicking his feet out from under him.
Roxas dodges the sweeping bow of his blade aimed for his face. Maleek's arm shots past Roxas, and the Elven assassin grabs it by the wrist and bicep, locking and twisting his arm so he grunts with pain. Roxas whirls him around, careening into Vanitas hard enough that the two men go careening to the ground.
"Guys, we're getting creamed here!" Cloud barks.
As he speaks, he kicks up a shield from a dead guard and slips his arm into the holders. He charges next wielding his shield and dagger. Roxas' layered clothing is too cumbersome for her to dart away fast enough, so as Cloud swipes for his face, he bends back. His spine bends so easily it's disturbing, but the blade passes overhead, slicing through an errant strand of his hair as it poofs out of the hood.
The assassin drops to the ground and lashes out with a leg, sweeping Cloud off his feet. Before he even hits the ground, Roxas rams his knee up directly into the middle of Cloud's spine. There's a faint crack and Roxas grabs Cloud by the shoulders and hauls him into the air, adding a kick for extra distance.
Axel and Sora pry the last of the daggers from King Mickey and his men, strapping them to their belts and aiding them as they stand. The court wizard Donald is already healing his shoulder as he and the captain help the King to his feet.
"Thank you." He wearily says to Axel and Sora.
"Listen, you need to get out of here. We have men out there defending the Faceless, and you have to warn your guards that the ones with the purple cloaks are deadly." Axel instructs. "We have members who wear the cloak too, but you'll know the difference."
King Mickey nods his head. "He'll need an escort." Sora says.
As if on cue, Maleek slaps into the ground and slides across the dirtied stone towards Sora and Axel. "That'll work." Axel grimly chuckles. "Maleek."
"Yeah." He grunts as he pushes to his hands and knees.
"We need you to escort the King out of here. Get him to his men and help fend off the rest of the Faceless. You worked with them, no doubt you can try and convince some of them to turn mutiny."
"Aright." Maleek shakes his head. He spits out blood and pushes to his feet, sheathing one dagger. "Hopefully you three can keep up."
"Sora go with him." Axel says.
"What? Are you sure?"
"I am. Look, I don't want you to argue, and I don't care if you want to try and prove yourself. I don't want anything to happen to you, and if you get severely hurt from Roxas, he will never be able to forgive himself."
"What about Vanitas, Maleek his father?"
Donald is nearly done healing Goofy and Mickey's shoulders. Maleek wipes his bloodied nose as Axel says. "They've had more experience in this field, and they have a higher pain tolerance. They'll survive."
To emphasize, Maleek looks over to wards Roxas, guiding Sora's and Axel's. Roxas strikes like a viper. Still only with his bare hands, his fists plow into Vanitas' face. His hands strike like snakes, so fast and speedy that Vanitas can't even have time to block one blow and prepare for the next. His face receives hits from Roxas' hands, elbows, and his knee as Roxas grabs his head and jams it downwards a couple times.
Still, he blocks Roxas' next fist and manages to snap his foot into Roxas' side, but Roxas doesn't even react, and he sends Vanitas skipping across the street, like a stone on a water's surface.
Sora swallows and nods, standing with Maleek. Sora help the King with a shoulder while Maleek takes the lead and readies to guide them out of the alley. Axel pulls down his hood and tickles his fingers on the single syringe strapped to his waist. He eases his way towards the edge and peeks out in time to find Roxas block two daggers flying at his head, sent by Cloud.
"Go." He commands.
"Get ready to run." Maleek speaks.
Then he, Sora and the King and his men sprint from the alley, but Roxas doesn't pay them any heed as he approaches a crippled Vanitas struggling to his knees. He already has a bloodied nose, and bruises already forming all around his hairline and jaw. It streams down his neck and lips, into his mouth. He spits as Roxas takes a large carriage, fit for seating two, and yanks it up like it's nothing more than an empty barrel. Axel sprints for the boy as Roxas hurdles it across. Vanitas lifts his head in time to see Axel swoop in and grab him as the carriage crashes into the street, indenting the stone and spreading thin spiderweb fissures.
Vanitas still has enough sense to tuck in his legs as Axel sprints away from the sight. He wipes his nose and spit again before looking to Axel. "Keep him busy so I can take him from behind."
Axel nods and releases Vanitas, the assassin landing in a crouch. He turns his head to find Roxas sprinting for Cloud, but at the last minute, Roxas' hands reach out to grab his waist. He then slides around until he's behind Cloud, and lifts him. He lifts Cloud up, and hurls him back, Roxas' spine bending once again into that uncomfortable and frankly backbreaking curve. He follows their momentum, careening himself over his father and when Roxas' back plants on the ground, he releases CLoud and his feet push him off until he's high into the air. Roxas finishes the roll slightly spinning on his hands so he lands face-forward.
With a powerful push of his legs, he leaps up and matches Cloud's height easily, flipping forward and slamming his heel into his back. Roxas dark cloak fans out like wings. Cloud hurdles towards the ground, landing face-first into the stone and bouncing off before sliding to a stop at the base of the stairs. Vanitas can see his nose is bleeding heavily and the tip is angled awkwardly. Now doubt it is broken.
Axel runs back around, pulling his two needle-point daggers free from his belt. He readies to throw one, but ends up using it to block as the blade of Farengar comes swiping for his face. Their metal scrapes against one another, and then Axel feels like a boulder slams into his stomach as Roxas hulks himself forward and they fly back with Axel's spine crashing into a brick wall, near a glass display window of a shop. It takes half of his strength to suppress the pain and scream of agony.
But before Roxas can deliver a face-crushing punch, Vanitas comes up and wraps his arms around Roxas' neck, coiling his legs around the Elven Assassin's waist. He grips as hard as he can and Roxas gives a small struggled breath. Axel presses himself into the wall, and brings his feet up in a harsh kick to Roxas' jaw that sends him and Vanitas flying back. Axel hurryingly follows; and he can see Rxoas taking slight advantage of their position as he locks his arms with Vanitas and body slams them both into the street.
Still, Axel readies his blunt weapon, raising it high to strike Roxas' skull, but as he brings it down for the blow, he sees Rxoas roll out and his weapons stops just inches from Vanitas' face. Axel, bewildered and breathless, steps back and Vanitas – bearing a face of surprise himself – simply stare at one another.
Then Roxas' foot swipes like a snake, knocking out Axel's feet. Axel barely hits the ground before Roxas' knees rams into his stomach and then he locks his hands together and whacks them at Axel's face like a mace. Pain crackles along his cheek, shattering his thoughts, and black dots fill his vision. Warmth dribbles down his chin and Axel knows his nose is bleeding. His back aches and throbs and the urge to vocalize the pain grows more.
He needs to make sure that Roxas doesn't sneak up on him on his left side, his eye being an enormous disadvantage. Axel goes flying and Roxas leaps after him. Axel still is conscious enough to bring up the blade of his sword to block Roxas next two punches which include daggers with sharpened tips. They dance across the street, each collision of metal sounds just as it did before, like the pounding of a war drum, echoing across the sky.
Roxas grabs Axel's wrist and brings his leg up to hug Axel's side then ramming his arm down; Axel feeling the pommel of Farengar's sword as it hits his collarbone. There's the brief sensation of flying and then he's met with the cobblestone once more.
Vanitas is already running for him, but stops, Axel looks upwards and quickly back rolls out of the way as Roxas comes crashing down, indenting into the street. Vanitas races after them once more. Axel throws all of his strength into swinging his blade, each blocked by Roxas vambraces, and then he reaches up and grabs Axel's blade barehanded.
Axel struggles to pry the weapon from Roxas' grip, but the boy has the thing in his hand like a vise. "Roxas." Axel grunts, his voice raw as his throat is dry as sandpaper. "Please. It's me! Axel!"
Roxas merely snarls and hisses. He harshly yanks back, drawing Axel forward and kicking him in the stomach once more. Axel goes hurdling back, releasing his weapon and slams into a street lamp. Axel bangs his head and starts to feel his hearing grow muffled. His eyes dance with colors, but he doesn't give his stomach the pause it needs as he whirls out of the way his sword comes flying seconds later. Axel tumbles to the ground and as he forces himself not to slow down, he look up to find Roxas bolting for him.
As Roxas stabs his dagger over Axel's shoulder, Axel grabs the assassin's wrist and careens him over. Roxas is sent flying through the glass display window of a furniture store, the glass shattering into diamond shaped pieces.
Vanitas finally catches up to Axel as he wobbles to his feet. "Whoa, nice move."
Axel turns to Vanitas, seeing the blood already dried on his face. He gives a weak smile. "That's all I got." He just finishes the sentence as he collapses to his knees and vomits.
Vanitas takes a few steps back, trying to suppress the bile rising in his throat as Axel convulses up saliva, bile and whatever contents of his last meal.
"You pity little bastards!" the voice rings out. Vanitas looks over his shoulder, dagger ready, and finds Tifa in her armor and her sword drawn. "You dare interfere with me and my plans?!"
"We're taking Roxas back, you bitch!" Vanitas shouts, Axel finally having enough strength to push to his feet.
"How dare you, you little –!" Tifa doesn't finish her sentence as she's tackled from the side and tumbling into the dirt. Her spine screams and her head throbs like a beating drum. They roll a couple times until the assassin has her pinned to the ground.
She opens her eyes and finds Cloud with a wicked smile on his lips. "Hello, my love." He purrs. The Guildmaster raises his arm, bringing forward the bloodied dagger, the blade gleaming crimson. He skillfully spins them between his fingers, as he readies the blade outward and ready to strike. "I think it's time we get reacquainted."
Tifa snarls and as Cloud brings down his dagger towards her eye, she moves her head, and uses her hand to set it aside before punching Cloud right in the jaw. She then grabs his head with her legs, delivering two punches before throwing her weight into a back roll, hauling Cloud over her. Cloud follows the momentum and is on his feet before he even finishes the roll.
He charges forward and pulls out his daggers this time. Tifa gives a slight gasp as Cloud flicks his arms out and five daggers all together spin rapidly out towards her, nothing more than blurs of steel. Immediately something in Tifa's head clicks and she brings her staff up, whirling it rapidly to deflect the daggers.
The moment she knocks away the last one, she looks up and finds Cloud high in the air, a long hunting knife in his raised hand, ready to strike. At the last second, Tifa brings her staff up and she hears the blade strike at the glass head. She hops back and as he goes to slash her, Tifa flips back then jabs the end of her weapon into the ground, spinning on it as Cloud hurdles past her, the steel whining.
As Tifa finishes her spin, Cloud is already there with more daggers between his fingers, and a long ebony sword. She continually spins her staff with dizzying speed as Cloud hurdles dagger after dagger before drawing another sword.
"It's almost like old times." He grimly hisses with a smile.
While keeping her attention on how her hands spin the staff, and how to position her feet, Tifa snarls and peruses herself forward, and Cloud allows it, taking timid steps back. She tries to keep track of where Roxas is. But it's easily drowned out by the ringing harsh scraping of metal.
Their weapons clash again and again as Vanitas and Axel ready themselves. Vanitas helps Axel as they hear loud rummaging through the broken window of the shop. Then Roxas comes flying through the window once more, a heavy-looking trunk in tow.
"Move!" Vanitas screams as he yanks Axel to the side. They barely miss the trunk, its contents spilling out across the now dented and messy street.
They tumble and roll and Axel can barely catch his breath before Roxas is already grabbing his throat and lifting him from the ground. Axel gasps for breath, his air already thin. He looks to Roxas, whose eyes are still thin slits, the blue and gold intimidatingly consuming. "Roxas." He gasps.
The Elven assassin merely smiles as he slams Axel into the street. The pain finally releases from Axel in a scream of bloodcurdling proportions. Roxas loosens his grip enough to allow Axel to scream, but then lifts him again and slamming him into a wall this time. The pain in Axle's head grows and he hers he might be bleeding from the inside as his vision blurs with red and black.
His entire faced feels torn, skinned, bloodied and bruised, but he still refuses to allow the pain to conquer as he tries to pry Roxas' stone-like hands from his neck. "Roxas." He tries. "Please."
Roxas turquoise eyes meet with Axel's before his other arm lashes out and connects with Axel's shoulder.
Axel hears the crack before he feel the pain, and he screams, dropping to his knees as his shoulder is dislocated. Roxas' foot meets with the shoulder, and Axel goes flying backwards, falling so hard that his shoulder relocates with a sickening crunch. The agony blinds him; the world goes in and out of focus. Things are so slow . . .
Vanitas comes up from behind and once again coils himself around Roxas' body, trying his best to headlock the Elven assassin. Roxas begins to buck and thrash like a horse as he goes to reach for Vanitas.
Tifa darts her eyes towards Roxas and gives a smile, and then shoots forward with a sweep of her staff. Steel slams into steel.
Her hands slip and her arms lower.
Right away she feels the hilt of Cloud's sword punch hard into her chest. Tifa gasps for air as she stumbles back, her hands slipping from her weapon.
"No.!"
As she tries to regain footing, she lifts her head and sees Cloud dig the tips of his blades into the ground and swing himself around, his leg flying. It connects with her jaw, sending a searing crackling pain across her face and spotting her vision. She is not given a moments rest as his fists connects with the same cheek. Blood drips from the corner of her mouth and streams along her jaw. As she tries to spit it out, she feels the other side of her face assaulted and she ends up biting her tongue. She tries to keep the tears from escaping her eyes, but she can't stop them as Cloud continually punches her. Left and right. Left and right. Left and then knee. Tifa grunts in pain, more tears and more blood spill from her nose and mouth and tongue.
Then Cloud grabs a fistful of her hair and throws all of his energy as he slams her head into a brick wall, aiming for the section of the forehead where there's a lobe of the brain housing simple function. A small blood spat splashes across the brick and she falls to the ground.
Meanwhile, Axel is forcing himself on his feet, ignoring the dizziness wafting his senses as he struggles to his feet. He sees Roxas jerkily turning in circles as he tries to yank Vanitas off, but Vanitas keeps out of his reach. Axel dizzily draws a throwing knife from his belt, but he knows he doesn't have the sense or the energy to keep fighting Roxas; not like this.
"Keep going! The serum!" Axle think to himself.
Somehow Roxas is already in front of Axel within the next blink and his arm twitches, connecting with his face. Axel's voice sounds in grunts as Roxas punches him up, right, left, right then spins and swings his leg through the air, connecting with Axel's temple. When Axel crumples to the ground, Roxas wrenches his arm free and elbows Vanitas straight in the dome once . . . twice, and when Vanitas can't hold on anymore, Roxas grabs his wrist and hauls him over. Vanitas howls as he hears his bones pop and the hard-packed cobblestone greets his side and burns his upper thigh.
Axel pushes to his feet and breaks into a sloppy run, but he can still see Roxas even as his vision expands to three. He swings his own leg through the air and it connects with Roxas' cheek. He whirls and uses the same leg to whack at the back of his dead, it hits, and then strike just under Roxas' chin. It connects again, and Roxas grunts in pain. The first sounds he's made since their battle had begun.
But Axel then feels Roxas grab his ankle, a couple popping sounds reaching his ear, and then he's swung off the ground and in a semicircle before he's sent flying back and rolling along the skipping on the ground. He flips over and over and over until he's stepped by another streetlight. Axel slides along the stone and finally coming to a stop, exhales and tears release from his eyes. He can't imagine what he must look like right now.
Every inch of his body throbs with absolute pain. He doesn't need a mirror to know he's covered in nasty bruises. His face throbs with every movement. Undoubtedly, he looks hideous. Everything hurts, and he's so tired.
There's a crunching sound of stone, and footsteps approach. Axel's arms quiver as he pushes himself up to look at Roxas as he wields the sword of Farengar. He aims the tip at Axel's nose. He raises it above his head.
"Now, little one," he says, his voice deep and raspy. "Prepare to –"
"Now!" Axel screams, his body shaking.
Vanitas immediately jerks his head up, a blow dart tube in his mouth.
He blows and a small, bug-sized dart shoots for Roxas. He blocks this one, but he then feels a pinch in the side of his neck. He freezes, eyes widening.
Roxas immediately drops everything and grips his head. He starts to scream and thrashes against himself like before in the gardens. His skin seems to vibrate, blurring as his ears soften and stretch back and forth into points, his canines retracting like claws. His pupils stretch in and out, consuming and releasing the color.
Axel looks over to his right, and finds Cloud, bloodied and cut, but standing proud with another blow dart tube.
Roxas is lying on the ground – on the bottom of the world, on the bottom of hell.
He hasn't been able to do much since Demyx and Ventus had left him in the darkness of his mind. Roxas just lies there and stares up into the endless black of his own mind. Everything is hazy, a nix of ice and black water and strange light.
He tries to think of ways to move, ways to fight; like his father had done when he was young. The process of taking his fear and guilt and despair and twisting them into something new. Then the hate – the hate that had rebuilt him, the rage that had fueled him, smothering the memories he hurried in a grave within his heart and never let out.
He had become a monster.
That is why he cannot, shall not, go home.
Roxas clings to the ground. He can't let go. There is nothing beneath it, nowhere else to go, nowhere to outrun the misery.
He doesn't know how long he lies on the bottom of wherever this is, but eventually, the darkness starts up again, barely more than shadows of thought and malice that ripple within the void.
"Roxas." The darkness churns. Roxas squints his eyes. His ears twitch and there's a thin, high whistling invading his thoughts.
Roxas angles his head upwards.
Can it be? Is this really a savior coming to save him? The darkness seems to pause.
"Roxas!" the voice beckons, sounding like a whimper.
Then there is a scrape and crunch of shoes, then a small, smooth hand slides towards him. But it is not Axel or Ventus or Demyx who lay across from him, watching him with those sad turquoise eyes.
His cheek against the moss, the young man he had unknowingly feared – the Elven warrior with his elongated canines, unearthly beauty, and smooth porelain features – reaches a hand for him. "Get up." He says softly.
Roxas shakes his head.
The Elven warrior strains for him, bridging that rift in the foundation of the world. "Get up." A promise – a promise for a better life, a better world.
Roxas wants to flee from the warrior. He has seen it as nothing more than a weapon of mass destruction. A thing to be used as the conqueror for an army of the shadows. He is nothing more than a weapon to everyone. Everything. Then again, it is what he's good at. This man, this false warrior, is nothing but trouble. It would be better to just watch it die, then maybe he will be as useless as he feels. And then no one will want him. Not anymore.
"Get up." someone says beyond the young Elven warrior. Lexaeus, Lexaeus, standing just beyond where he can see, smiling faintly.
"Get up." says another voice – a woman's. Aerith.
"Get up." Two voices together – Demyx and Ventus, faces grave, but eyes bright. "Get up." They tell him gently.
One by one, like shadows emerging from the mist, they appear. The faces of the people he has loved with his heart of wildfire.
And then there is a figure, his faces obscured by shadows, but shadows that aren't intimidating. He is tall with silver hair, and Roxas knows he is smiling. "Get up." He whispers, his voice full of that hope for the world, and for the boy he will never see again. Roxas doesn't remember knowing him, but at the same time,
A tremor in the darkness.
Roxas look up once more and can see a peephole of light immediately poke through the darkness. Golden light, beautiful, sparkling streaming light stretches across the darkness, stretching as far as the blackness itself.
"Roxas, please, it's me. It's Axel!" Roxas hears Axel's voice beg.
"Axel." Roxas whimpers, his voice scraping against his throat.
The Elven warrior still lies before him, hand still reaching.
Roxas looks at the warrior's face – the face that he can wear – and at the man's outstretched hand, so small and unscarred. The darkness flickers.
There is solid ground beneath him. Stone and dirt. Not hell – earth. The earth of which his kingdom lies, green and mountainous and as unyielding as his people.
He will not let his light go out.
He has to trust himself, trust his instincts; which could be of what the Elven warriors represents. It will not take a monster to destroy a monster – but light, light to drive out darkness.
He must fight.
The Elven warrior smiles at him, hand still outstretched. "Get up." The warriors says.
Roxas reaches across the earth between them and brushes his fingers against the Elven warrior's.
And rises.