'The fall of (Daybreak Town) Radiant Garden.'
Chapter Twelve: And How It Breaks You
When Skuld woke up, there was blood on her tongue and an ache in her chest.
Sunlight fell across her face. The sound of running water—a fountain?—bubbled in her ears. Warm, smooth stone was hard against her back. She pushed herself up slowly, blinking blearily. The town around her was bright. Familiar. The haze of daybreak hung overhead. A couple of birds stirred, chattering shrilly, and soared over the colorful rooftops.
"What are you doing out here?"
That voice.
White hair. Red scarf. A curious, somewhat confused smile.
She blinked. "I don't…know," she admitted. Her fingers played with the edges of her skirt, absently smoothing it over her legs.
(Weren't her clothes wrong? She thought she was—she'd been wearing a jacket. Pants. A scarf, like the boy standing in the plaza with her.)
"Did you fall asleep on the ground or something?" The boy crossed the distance and settled on the edge of the fountain. "That doesn't seem like the best place to take a nap."
She gave him a tiny smile. "I guess not." After a beat she stood. She wobbled, her legs unsteady.
"Woah, hey!" The boy shot to his feet and steadied her.
Skuld tensed and pulled away. "Don't—" She broke off, blinking.
"Don't what?"
"Touch me," she said, but her voice came out distant.
Her head ached.
"Is everything okay?"
"I—I don't know."
The boy lowered his voice. "Nightmares again?"
Nightmares? That's right, she'd had—she'd had dreams. Of—
What were they of?
"Did they have…a red sky?" She placed a hand against her forehead. "No, that's—it's of—the Keyblade War. Right? There was a battlefield."
(She'd—she'd been there, hadn't she? There was a sickening, terrifying feeling in her chest, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her. She'd been there. She'd been trying to get to her friend. She and—)
"Who are you?"
The boy blinked, then laughed a little, rubbing the back of his head. "Okay, very funny."
"It's not—" Skuld broke off and stared at him. Cautiously, hands tremoring, she reached towards him. Her fingers brushed his face. He felt real. "You're—one of my friends. The ones from—"
The boy's eyebrows furrowed. He placed his hand over hers. "That dream really did a number on you, huh, Skuld?"
Her eyes burned. She took a shuddering breath and it came out close to a sob.
"Hey. Hey, hey, hey, easy."
Warm hands steadied her shoulders. (She wanted to shove them off. She wanted them to stay. She didn't know what she wanted.)
The boy—her friend, her friend—was staring at her, eyes wide with concern.
"I'm sorry, I—I don't know what's wrong with me." She scrubbed her eyes and tried to give him a smile. "Did you come out here looking for me?"
"Kind of? It's not time for the meeting yet, but, uh—I was kind of awake, too. I figured you'd be out here."
"That's right," she murmured, more to herself than anything. "I liked to come out here in the early morning. It was quiet." She turned towards her friend. "Where are the others?"
"In…the Clock Tower? Are you sure you're feeling okay?"
"I'm—yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
He gave her an uncertain sort of smile. "Do you want to go back, then?"
Skuld nodded, her words lodged behind a knot in her throat.
The boy's eyes searched hers, but he didn't press her any further. He turned and headed towards the edge of the plaza—towards the clock tower in the distance.
She…that's right. They lived there, didn't they? Because they were—
(The world felt unsteady. Fragile. Like stained glass, beautiful but ready to break, creaking beneath her feet.)
"Wait!" Skuld scrambled to catch him. "You didn't tell me your name."
"You know my name." The boy scrunched his nose at her, but he answered, anyways: "It's Ephemer."
She froze.
"Something wrong?"
"Ephemer…?" She took a few stumbling steps backwards.
"Skuld?"
(Ephemer was the founder of Scala ad Caelum. He was the one who shaped the way Keyblade wielders functioned. He was a hero and a historical figure and someone heard of only in legends.
He was also a boy with a red scarf and messy hair and tired eyes, carrying a weight that was too heavy for any of them to bear.)
"You're just…named after him, right? Like—like me."
"Named after…?"
"The original Ephemer. The one who made this place."
"I thought Daybreak Town was made by the Foretellers?"
"It was. That's—" How do I know that? (Her head was splitting.) "This isn't…Scala ad Caelum?"
"No? I've never even heard of that before. It sounds like a cool name, though!"
"Of course you'd think that," Skuld murmured numbly. "You named it." She shook her head. "No, that's—that can't be right. You're—you're here. You—you were always curious about everything. You had some of the craziest conspiracy theories. You—you reached out to me when—"
"When nobody joined your party."
Skuld looked at him, and she wanted to see some sort of heroic Keyblade wielder, confident in himself and in the legacy that would follow him. All she saw was a boy. "I don't understand."
The boy—(Ephemer, he was named Ephemer, but it couldn't be, she wasn't a Union Leader, Luxu had to be wrong)—gave her a tired sort of smile. It looked old and world-weary and wrong on his face. "I know. It's okay." He tilted his head. "Come on. Why don't we head home, okay?"
Home. There was an ache in her chest and in her throat as she followed.
-Getting stabbed didn't feel like she thought it would.
It was the first coherent thought Skuld had once the static cleared. It didn't hurt in the way that other injuries she'd received had; it buzzed like electricity was balled in her chest, spitting sparks that made her entire body shake. Her heart felt strangely swollen, like it had after Xehanort's experiments—like it was filling with something, expanding until it pressed uncomfortably against the back of her ribcage and threatened to spill through the gaps. When she blinked, the impression of images—thousands, there for barely a second and then gone again—flickered across her eyelids.
Numb fingers traced the point where Starlight entered her chest; her other hand wrapped around the shaft, and she wasn't sure if she planned to try and pull the Keyblade out or just steady herself.
(Staring at Starlight brought about a sense of wrongness; that was her Keyblade, he'd stabbed her with her own Keyblade, he wasn't supposed to—)
Starlight jerked. She gasped, moving with it; the hand still gripping her Keyblade slid along the shaft, tearing painfully against the tip as it rasped free.
(Her hand bled, but her chest didn't. She couldn't quite make sense of it, bloody palm pressed against her chest where a wound should be, trying to stem the flow of magic or memories or something that leaked out of the entry point.)
Something clattered near her head—Starlight, thrown, finally released by the man with the eyepatch. (Luxu. The name rang with familiarity, but it didn't bring the same ache that 'Ava' or 'Ephemer' had; more like something she'd heard in passing, disconnected and dispassionate.)
A boot appeared in her field of vision, and it took her a moment to realize that she was lying sprawled across the floor. She twisted and caught sight of the keyhole; it sputtered with energy, shadows spitting and snarling. She was—she was supposed to lock it, wasn't she? That's what she'd been doing when—
Her fingers grazed Starlight's hilt and burned. She heaved a breath and rested her forehead against the floor. The whole room swam, blurring between some dark, hazy place and the keyhole chamber.
"You should probably stay down," said a voice (Luxu, Luxu, but there was something that screamed at her that his voice sounded wrong, even if nothing about it had changed). "Heard that remembering like this is a bit of an experience."
"What—" She licked her lips and tasted salt. "What did you do to me?"
"Oh, nothing much. You were looking for your memories. I just thought I'd help you along a little."
Skuld gritted her teeth and tried to drag herself forward.
The weight of something pressed her down—a spell, some distant part of her thought, but her mind was still fuzzy, hazed over by flickering fragments of—something. "So stubborn. Why don't you relax a little, eh, Dandelion? Savor the moment. It's not every day you get your past back."
"You—"
Luxu—didn't look right, she thought. It was like some illusion had slipped away and now she was seeing through the cracks. His skin seemed too taut in some places and too loose in others, pulled over someone else like an ill-fitting coat. His clothes hung from gangly arms and legs, looking more like something someone had borrowed than items that had been made to fit him. His eye gleamed, and it seemed like the most alive thing about him, glowing like an ember in a hollow skull.
(He looked, some terrified part of her thought, a little like how she felt: like a specter who had borrowed someone else's skin and was trying to make it feel like theirs.)
"I what? You're going to have to speak up a little. Can't hear you when you're pressed to the floor like that."
"Who's fault is that?" she snarled. Her fingers twitched, desperate to grab for her Keyblade, but she couldn't move.
"Glad to see you haven't lost your fire. Guess we'll see how long that lasts, huh?"
The world blurred around the edges. She blinked, and it took her a moment to realize the shadows were moving. Heartless, maybe, or some aftereffect of whatever Luxu had done to her.
He's still a threat, some part of her screamed. He's still dangerous, he could still hurt me, he could—
Why hasn't he done anything else?
Her chest burned. She hissed quietly between her teeth; she wanted to curl in on herself, but she couldn't, the spell holding her tightly in place. The whole world flickered, turning to static, and when it came back, she found Luxu hovering over her.
It took her a moment to realize that he'd likely rolled her over; she was staring at the ceiling, now, and the world rumbled as she watched, bits of dust cascading from above. Luxu seemed unbothered; he stared at her with a sharp grin that looked a little too big for his face.
"You didn't fight in the Keyblade War."
She blinked rapidly. The words didn't feel like hers; they tasted foreign on her tongue, unfamiliar inside her mouth.
His grin, impossibly, broadened. "Nope."
"You were still around when Daybreak Town fell." She felt—disoriented, almost. Like she was seeing double, her mind pulled in two directions at once. "Where did that—why—"
"Of course I was," he said, brushing right past her confused muttering. "Had to watch everything go down. That's what allowed the Book of Prophecies to exist, you know. It's what gave you guys the chance to survive." The grin didn't fall, but that gleaming golden eye narrowed. "Getting the picture yet?"
"You left everyone to die." The words had barbs, torn out of her throat by the ghost of who she'd been, vengeful enough to force her way past the specter that had taken residence in her body.
"Not everyone. I saved one of you, right? Can't imagine you forgot that part—but hey, I guess you've got a lot to remember now. Maybe it got lost in the clutter."
For a moment, Luxu didn't look like Luxu. For a moment, she was staring at a different face: a black-haired boy, maybe a couple of years older than her, gray eyes studying her carefully. He didn't have his hat, and the expression looked wrong on his face, but she recognized him.
"Brain?" she whispered, and it rang through her head; the name felt like it came from someone else, and they were just borrowing her tongue to speak it.
"Did you need something?"
Skuld blinked. She was—she had just been in Radiant Garden, hadn't she? She'd been in the chamber with the keyhole. Luxu had been there. But now she was— "Where am I?"
The room was strangely familiar; standing here gave her a sense of déjà vu, like she'd done this exact thing a hundred times before. There was a large table that filled the center. Stained glass windows let colored light into the room. Bookshelves lined the walls, cluttered. A desk was shoved into the back, and at it sat a familiar boy, hat tilted over his head and a question on his face.
"The Clock Tower, remember?" Skuld turned (and why could she move, she'd been held in place on the ground, she shouldn't be able to do that—), and there was—there was the boy who called himself Ephemer, giving her a confused look. "I said we were going home."
"Home. That's—that's right. This is—"
It certainly felt like home; her hands brushed against the top of the meeting table, the wood warm beneath her fingertips. She knew, somewhere, what she would find if she turned and left the meeting room; she could pull up an entire mental map of the Clock Tower, the pathways having worn groves so deeply into her bones that she could walk them with her eyes closed. "I used to have trouble sleeping," she whispered. "I'd wander the Clock Tower to try and deal with the nightmares."
The others didn't say anything, but she could feel their stares.
(There was something she was supposed to be doing. Something important. She couldn't remember what it was.)
"You're—I remember you." She looked at the boy with the hat, whose eyebrows raised. "You were—you worked here a lot. You spent a lot of time in—in the Foretellers' Chambers. In here. We had to drag you out to make sure you ate anything."
The boy huffed a quiet laugh. "Of course you'd remember that."
"We lived here. Did we—were we training here?" She frowned. "No, that's not—we didn't always live here. We moved here when—and I can't remember any training. But that's not right, because we were supposed to have Masters, weren't we?" She turned and gave them a baffled look. "Do you remember yours?"
"You mean the Foretellers?" Ephemer asked. He frowned and crossed his arms. "Mine was the same as yours, remember?"
"Right, that's—I think I can remember training with you." She shook her head. "No, not training. Missions? But our Masters weren't—"
(There was something wrong. Preston had told her about how things worked in Scala, but now it felt like everything had turned on its head. Like so many of the practices he'd talked about hadn't been set in stone yet. Like she was missing pieces she knew should be there.)
The boy at the desk was watching her, eyes shadowed.
She gave him a helpless look. "I don't—I don't remember your name."
His expression softened a little. "You do," he said (and there was something strangely fitting, about him seeming to know exactly what was going on; he'd always been one step ahead of things, it seemed). "You said it to Luxu."
She rocked a little, unsteady on her feet. "Brain…?" She stumbled backwards, a hand on her head.
"Hey, Skuld—"
"Don't."
Ephemer stopped, and she almost wanted to take the word back—because that was her friend, both of them were, and now they were here and she just wanted to speak with them and forget about everything that had happened to her since she'd lost them. But—
"I'm dreaming. None of this is—those aren't your names. This can't be real." She looked at the boy who'd called himself Ephemer. "Ephemer is supposed to be the founder of Scala ad Caelum." She turned, and the boy who'd claimed he was Brain watched her with a knowing sort of expression. "Brain was a Keyblade Master in Scala. I know someone who talked to him. He was old—old enough to have a grandchild, and that was decades ago. Both of you are—both of them aren't around anymore."
(Her chest ached as she stared at them. She half-expected Brain's face to morph into something older—into a familiar teacher, a mentor figure, someone who was experienced enough to tell her what she was supposed to do or to reassure her that this was all a trick and that things would be alright. It never changed.)
"My mind's just trying to fill in the blanks with names that I've heard," she whispered. "People that I know were important Keyblade wielders. I came from Scala ad Caelum. You guys are still there. You're just waiting for me to come home."
The whole world seemed to be made of glass, light refracting off jagged surfaces. Her friends looked almost hazy in it, like they'd disappear if she tried to touch them.
"This is a trick," she whispered. "This is—Luxu did something to me, to try and keep me from getting to the keyhole."
She surfaced with a gasp. It felt like she was dragging herself up from beneath water, choking and sputtering on images and thoughts and feelings that felt somehow both foreign and familiar.
The spell had weakened enough that she could move, and she reached blindly for her Keyblade. Starlight still burned her palms, but she kept her grip, swinging wildly upwards.
Luxu tilted backwards a little to avoid the strike, taking a couple of casual steps away.
Skuld stumbled blindly to her feet. She realized that Luxu had positioned himself between her and the keyhole again, and she bit back a frustrated scream. Starlight's tip dragged against the floor, scraping and sending up small sparks.
"Careful there, Dandelion. You're looking a little worse for wear."
"Use my name," she spat. "If you're going to give it to me, then use it."
"Oh, not a fan of nicknames, are we? I'm guessing that's a new thing." That golden eye narrowed. "The truth's a bitter thing, ain't it? Easier to close your eyes to it. Makes it hurt less."
"These aren't mine," she said, and the words rasped against her throat. "You're just—you did something to me."
"Hate to break it to you, kid—sorry, Skuld. I can't put new things in your heart. Don't have that kind of power over memories and whatnot. All I can do is bring what's already there to the surface. This is all you."
The world shook, rumbling underneath Skuld's feet. She had to jam her Keyblade into the ground to steady herself. It took her a moment to realize the world wasn't the only thing shaking; her arms, her legs, everything was shuddering, and she pressed her head against the hilt of her Keyblade, gritting her teeth and trying to make it stop.
"Hey, Skuld!"
Her eyes snapped open. Sora?
She opened her mouth, about to ask in a panic how he'd followed her to Radiant Garden, when her mind caught up with what she was seeing.
Wind-swept blond hair. Blue eyes. A boy, maybe ten or eleven, staring up at her earnestly.
Skuld blinked rapidly. She—she recognized him, she realized. Another friend. Another memory, popping into place where he shouldn't be.
(There were shadows moving in the corners of her eyes. Somewhere, she thought she could feel the rumble of a world as it started to fall, and hear the frustrated scream of another her as she tried to figure out what she was supposed to do.)
The boy's expression was falling slowly. "Is—is everything okay?"
No. "Yes. I'm—I'm sorry. I'm just—disoriented."
(Distantly, she thought the other her moved. She thought she stood, shaky on her feet, and raced towards—
Someone else.)
"Oh. That's okay! I can help. Um, if you want?"
"Okay. I can—okay." The boy moved, and she followed, footsteps sluggish.
This was where she woke up. The place that was supposed to be Scala ad Caelum but wasn't. "Ephemer called this place Daybreak Town."
"Yeah…?"
"And—there are other Keyblade wielders here?"
The boy was giving her a strange look. "Well, yeah. Lots of us joined the Unions."
"Unions. That's—that's what they're called. I remember. But—but Preston never mentioned—"
"Who's Preston?"
"He's—he's someone I know. He went to Scala ad Caelum and talked to some important Keyblade wielders. Brain—Master Brain."
"'Master'?" The boy scrunched his nose.
Skuld laughed, but it sounded a little broken. "He'd probably make fun of me for calling him that." Her voice trailed away.
(There was noise ringing in her ears—of magic, of the clang of metal, of the chittering of Heartless as they waited for one of them to fall.)
This place…didn't really look like how Preston had described Scala ad Caelum, she realized. The buildings weren't made of stone; they looked homey, bright and welcoming. It was colorful, she supposed, and there were lots of plants, but the ocean she could hear seemed distant. "Are there islands around here?"
"Um. Maybe? But I think they're a little ways off." Her friend gave her a confused look. "Why are you asking, though? You've been in Daybreak Town longer than I have."
"I just wanted to check something." There were stalls up ahead. Absently she lifted a scarf from the stand, twisting it around her fingers. The person behind the stall looked young—younger than her, even. So did everyone. "There aren't supposed to be so many young wielders. That's what Preston said."
"Um. I think maybe—maybe this Preston guy talked to the wrong person?"
"He talked to Brain." She took a shuddering breath. "But of course there wouldn't be younger wielders in Scala. Brain and Ephemer both saw what happened to—"
(Us.)
There was a terrifying sort of realization, there, just on the brink of acknowledgement. She forced it down, turning back to her friend. "We were—what were we doing?"
"Putting up missions!" He pointed, and she realized rather abruptly that she was clutching papers of some sort.
"Missions. That's right. Because we were—" Her eyebrows furrowed. "Missions," she repeated. "Why would we be in charge of—?"
"Because…we're Union Leaders?"
"You?" She caught the expression on his face and faltered. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. I just—you're so young."
The boy looked a little sheepish. He kicked the ground, not quite looking at her. "I know. I kind of wonder why Master Ava chose me a lot."
Skuld's heart squeezed. "There has to be a reason," she said, and it felt like the echo of something that had been said before. And then she continued, finding reasons presented to her all on her own: "You're kind. And brave. And—and you're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. You helped to save us when…"
The boy's expression shifted, looking vaguely confused.
"You're Ventus. Ven." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah?"
(Her other self, she thought, was losing; she thought she could feel the phantom sting of nicks and scratches against her skin, shadows clawing close at her back.)
She laughed helplessly, the sound half-frantic, and stumbled backwards. Her back hit the wall of a building, and it felt so solid beneath her fingertips that she could almost believe she was home. "This is Daybreak Town. That's what Ephemer said. He was supposed to have built Scala from the world he came from."
Ven was watching her with a confused, worried sort of expression.
"In my dreams," she whispered, "the sky always turns red. Everything falls apart. It's—I lose all of you."
Ven's expression turned sad.
"This can't be real."
"It's—"
"No. You're too young to be a Union Leader. We were all too young to be Union Leaders. We weren't ready. How were we—how were they expected to save the world? It's—there's some mistake. We aren't the Union Leaders. We're just kids. We were training, and something happened. I lost my memories because of some accident or spell or something. I can't have come from the past."
(There was a sound like cracking glass underfoot. The colorful buildings refracted light unnaturally, spilling it across her skin.)
Something wrapped around her waist. She almost tried to shove the figure away, but stopped herself; she recognized who it was, after all.
Ven was hugging her tightly. Her clothes were wet where he pressed his face into her shirt. "I'm sorry," he said, and his voice broke. "I'm sorry. I know it hurts. I'm sorry."
Something in her chest fractured. "Don't be sorry," she said. "Don't be sorry, this isn't real, you guys are okay, and I'm going to figure things out. I will. It's okay."
"Skuld—"
"I'm not—I'm not supposed to be here. I can't be here, I have to—"
"—get through!" She hit solid ground and faltered, wobbling a little.
Luxu batted her Keyblade away, a couple shots firing and sending her skidding backwards as she tried to block. There was a low, angry rumbling that made her entire body shake; the ground shifted underfoot, and she had just enough presence of mind to launch herself away. Part of the castle floor fell away, crumbling and crashing into the room below. Skuld stumbled away from the hole, sucking in terrified, exhausted breaths.
(It felt like she was staring at a different room, in a different place, watching as it fell apart around her.)
She wobbled on her feet. Luxu was—he was still in the way. She hadn't been able to budge him at all. She took a shuddering breath and moved, trying not to stumble over her own feet.
(There were still memories, there, clamoring for her attention. They whispered in her ears and flashed past her face, parading by so quickly she could only make out snippets.
"Hey, Skuld, come check this out!"
"Oh! Those flowers look nice."
"Can we take some back for the others?")
Her heart throbbed. It felt like it was swelling in her throat and choking her. Her knees hit the floor, and she skidded across it, scrambling to stand.
Luxu watched her, expression unreadable.
Skuld surged upwards, Keyblade drawn sharply back.
Bursts of purple light flashed from Luxu's guns. Skuld swept them away, once, twice, then failed on the third. It hit her side; she stumbled and kept going.
("Ephemer—!"
"What—wait, wait, wait, hang on, what I do?"
"You froze the kitchen!"
"…Um. That wasn't me?"
"Please. Please clean it up."
"Ah, sorry, Lauriam.")
Her clothes felt scratchy against her back, her limbs too long, her face too gaunt. Everything about her felt wrong in a way it hadn't before, like she was picked up and pieced together from the remains of someone else, then placed haphazardly somewhere she'd be out of the way.
Her weapon clanged against Luxu's. He swept her away, and she didn't even have the presence of mind to try and catch herself; claws scrabbled at her back as she neared the wall, and she tore herself away.
("You want to come with us, Brain?"
"Can't. Unlike some people, I have work to do."
"I'm pretty sure he's glued to his desk."
"Ha, ha.")
She let out a frustrated scream and lunged.
Luxu didn't bother to use magic this time; he side-stepped her attack, then grabbed her shirt and tossed her. She was so startled that her scream cut off partway, and she flailed helplessly as she tumbled over and over herself. She crashed into the far wall; it took several moments for her to realize it was breaking, crumbling away as she fell, and she threw herself forward, casting a Zero Gravity spell on herself on some half-desperate instinct. The spell flickered, weak; after a moment she found herself falling, scrambling hold onto the edge.
Her arms shook. For a moment, she didn't think she'd be able to pull herself up. She pressed her head against the ground, shaking.
(The images flashed like starbursts, ever-present. Sometimes they painted over everything she was seeing. It made her feel like she was going to be sick.)
She blinked, and realized that Luxu had one of his weapons pointed at her again. It gave her the burst of adrenaline she needed to shove herself back over the edge. She sprawled across the floor, shaking. "You—you were lying, before."
(Brain ended up in Scala ad Caelum.)
"These can't be mine. They can't be. I—"
(No one knew what happened to the other Union Leaders or the Dandelions.)
"You're just stalling for time. But I don't know why, because you're stronger than me, why would you need to do this to stall for time—"
(She'd never really thought of Brain as a 'Master,' had she?)
"I was trying to find my memories for so long. I wanted to know who I was. It's not—there are supposed to be people for me to go back to. I'm supposed to have a home."
(Ephemer's name made her heart ache.)
"I don't want these memories. They can't—they can't be right. Take them back."
"Skuld—"
"These can't be mine!" she screamed; her throat ached, and the whole world blurred. "Because the Union Leaders are gone! Daybreak Town is gone! Ephemer is dead and so is Brain and the Dandelions disappeared and no one knows where Ven and Lauriam are and—"
(She stood on a stained glass platform. Across from her stood someone else—someone who looked a lot like her. She wanted to reach for her, but she was frozen in place, watching as the specter cracked and shattered.)
"Please," she whispered. "Please. Please tell me these aren't mine."
"Skuld."
She thought, for a moment, that the person speaking was Luxu. It took her a second to realize that the voice sounded different—younger, gentler, whisper-soft, like he was worried he might frighten her. She looked up, and she saw a boy with pink hair and worried eyes.
"Lauriam," she whispered, and she didn't question how she knew the name was right.
"You look a little pale," he murmured. "I can grab you some tea, and we can talk about it, okay?"
She gave a desperate sort of laugh. "I don't think we have time."
"We have as much time as we need."
She didn't know what she could do but nod, and Lauriam turned away, moving out of sight.
It felt like she was getting a cup shoved into her hands not much later, and her fingers curled around it, enjoying the warmth. She needed to be doing—something else. But—
"I don't understand what's going on."
He gave her a gentle smile. "I know. It's okay."
"How can you all have their names? How can you have their names and not be—?"
"Skuld." He moved to put a hand over hers, then stopped, resting it nearby instead, leaving it more as an open invitation.
Skuld glanced at it. She ran a thumb along the rim of her mug—and it felt so real, even if she knew it wasn't, that she could almost lose herself in the dream. "I don't understand," she repeated in a whisper.
Lauriam seemed to take a moment to consider that, expression thoughtful. "I don't have any answer for you that you don't already have now," he said ruefully. "I'm not the real Lauriam. Not even a memory, really. Just something your mind has conjured to try and help you make sense of everything."
"So I could be imagining it. This is just a mistake, and you guys are still out there, and—"
"Skuld. You know that's not true."
"It has to be. Because none of you are around anymore and neither is Daybreak Town and—" She broke off and took a shuddering breath, giving him a helpless look. "What am I supposed to do if this is real?"
Lauriam moved his hand a little closer, letting their knuckles brush. "I told you," he murmured, "I don't have any answer that you don't."
Skuld hitched a breath, dragging herself forcibly out of the memory.
Luxu was still watching her, expression nearly unreadable.
Her heart ached. It felt a little like whoever she'd been was slowly overwhelming her, spreading out to fill the gaps. She thought she'd feel more like herself, more confident, happier, but she didn't—she still felt just as lost and scared and confused as she had before.
Almost without realizing it, she braced her Keyblade against the ground, using it as a crutch. The world swam into and out of focus, drifting between Radiant Garden and a dark, hazy room in Daybreak Town. The only constant was the keyhole, energy snapping and snarling angrily from it, whipping towards her and forcing her to brace herself.
Luxu seemed completely unfazed.
What am I supposed to do?
She looked desperately at the keyhole. It felt so far away. She hitched a breath and felt her legs give out beneath her; the only thing keeping her upright was her tight grip on her Keyblade.
(How was she supposed to get there? How was she supposed to fix the issue when—
Another place. A battlefield. Something frantic as she tried to outrace the end of the world.
Ah. That's right. She'd done this before.)
"Ready to call it quits, Dandelion?"
Skuld scrubbed her face with an arm and leveled a glare Luxu's way. "My name," she spat, "is Skuld."
Luxu gave a weary sort of sigh.
Slowly, Skuld pushed herself to her feet, arms shaking. Lea and Isa are still out there. Jim and Zidane are still fighting. I need to—I need to get them to safety. That's what I came here to do.
(I can't lose any more friends.)
Luxu was stronger than her, she realized. Even if she didn't have these fractured bits and pieces of memories flickering through her head, she could've figured that out because of the magic Luxu had used against her. She was exhausted, and still felt like she was about to be pulled under into hazy imaginings, her thoughts still so jumbled that she doubted she could entirely figure out what to do. There was no possible way she could take him in a fair fight. Not now.
But there was nothing saying she needed to fight fair—and Luxu wasn't the only one who could create portals anymore.
Skuld swung her Keyblade towards Luxu and energy flared in her chest.
Luxu lifted his weapon to block.
Skuld aimed over his shoulder; a beam of light flew from her Keyblade and struck the space right behind him.
"What are you—" He broke off, eyes widening, and whipped his weapon around.
I need to get to him before he can cast another spell. Her chest burned as she forced magic into her legs.
It threw off Luxu's timing just enough; she slammed into him and kept going, sending them both flying through the portal.
Skuld hadn't been paying much attention to where the portal would open up; she'd simply needed to make sure that Luxu was out. When the portal opened, she found the two of them free-falling, tumbling through the air outside the castle.
The world was still in chaos. The town—far, far below them, now—was swarming with a black mass, the buildings in disarray. Pieces of the ground seemed to be missing entirely; as she watched, a portion cracked off the edge and fell, crashing into what looked like water. Skuld's heart seized. (Lea and Isa and Jim were still down there, in the middle of that. Did they all get out okay? Did her portal help? Had it disappeared when she summoned her new one?)
The image flickered. Skuld's breath caught as she saw—
(The ruins of another place—somewhere that had been home, somewhere that she wanted desperately to go back to but couldn't.)
Skuld's eyes burned. She let out a shout and twisted, kicking free of Luxu. She angled herself down and opened another portal, back to the room with the keyhole.
There was a buzzing, tearing sound at her side. She snapped around and lifted her Keyblade on instinct.
Several of those strange purple darts shot through a tear in space that Luxu had opened; the attack sent her flying off course, spinning helplessly through the air. She shot out a Collision Magnet spell from the tip of her Keyblade, hoping it would catch on something and hold her steady.
It did; it latched onto Luxu.
Skuld snapped to a halt, dangling wildly from the spell.
Luxu looked unperturbed; he hung upside down, standing on the air, strange guns pointed down towards her. There was some sort of energy building at the tips, making his entire body shake. He gave her a feral sort of grin.
A burst of adrenaline and some instinct, half-buried, screamed at her to move! She tugged on her spell; it didn't budge Luxu, but it did cause her to go swinging, up and around and overtop of her opponent. Luxu's attack fired; her spell snapped as the arrow flew through where she'd been. It zoomed towards the ground below, almost a beacon for where they were fighting.
Skuld was falling again half a second later; she tried to angle herself towards Luxu, twisting so that she was flying feet-first and bracing herself for impact.
Pain lanced through her side. She gasped, and the world flickered.
Luxu stared up at her. He'd twisted in midair, weapons pointed her way, still smoking from the shot.
She gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the pain and focus on moving. There was nothing to latch onto, but she swept around, fire burning at the tip of her Keyblade. She shot the spell, but it went wild, Luxu dodging out of the way easily.
A tearing, tinkling sound came from her upper right, then her left, then below her—a thousand places at once, tears in space opening all around her. With a horrifying jolt, Skuld realized she wouldn't be able to block every attack.
But she was still going to try.
As the attacks fired, Skuld moved, trying to twist and hit away every single dart, Keyblade spinning and swinging in a blur. But she was still falling, and the attacks were coming from too many angles, and she was alone. The first dart grazed her cheek. The second sank into her elbow. The third and fourth and fifth hit her back and sides, and then she was tumbling, Keyblade flashing helplessly as she was struck from several sides at once.
She stopped, very abruptly, in midair. There was a harsh laugh, and when Luxu spoke, he almost sounded impressed. "Clever little sneak! That was a move that would've made Ava proud. Unfortunately, you're not quite to the level of the Foretellers."
Ava. That's right. In the haze of everything, she'd forgotten— "She's okay."
She meant it to come out like a question, but it felt more like a truth she already knew.
"She is," Luxu agreed easily. "Though I'd guess she's going to have some issues interfering with our little disagreement."
"That's what you'd call this?" Skuld spat, squirming.
Something pressed against the back of her skull, and she froze. "Yep. Now, I'd like you to take a close look, Skuld. Tell me what you see down there."
"I see people who need help."
"Wrong answer."
"How am I—"
"Look a little closer. Come on, I know you can do it. Sure, you don't have the experience that I do, but that shouldn't really hold you back, should it? After all, you've seen this before."
She didn't want to look. Staring at the breaking world made something in her chest hurt, the ache of fear and grief and something else pounding like a heartbeat. But she was held in place by the spell, and as she stared, all she could see was—
Somewhere else.
She didn't know Radiant Garden very well. She knew this; for as long as she'd stayed in this world, she'd never truly gotten to see what it was like. Most of her fear came for Lea and Isa, but now—now, it felt like she was filling in the missing blanks, placing in information that was filtered through the fractured remains of her memories.
Over there, a large building, broken and crumbling in the middle. It might've been the school Lea and Isa had mentioned; it was big enough to be. She wondered if they'd been there, when it had fallen. She wondered if they had other friends, and if they were okay and if they would ever know what had happened to them. She wondered if their families were still okay—if they'd made it to the portal, if they were separated, if they were grieving people that were lost. They were probably confused, and scared. It was—it was chaotic, she knew. When the world was falling, you didn't have time to stop and search for people; you just had to hope they made it out. (She'd—had a family, she thought. Blurred figures that she couldn't entirely recall, and her heart ached as she realized there may be some memories she could never truly recover. But there were also others: friends, the people she'd loved, who'd made her their home, and—she remembered how scared they'd all been. How desperate to get everyone out okay. How none of them really knew where they'd end up or if they'd survive.)
And there—that was the courtyard she and Jim had been in, not so long ago. The fountain had crumbled; she wondered if it might've been a place where people had gathered before. Where maybe people would come to rest after a hard day's work, or where kids would splash each other and laugh, or where people might toss in a couple of coins and make a wish. (It was what they'd done, she knew. They didn't have jobs, but they had missions, and Skuld could remember returning to that place after a long day to laugh with her friends.)
And the houses—all arranged neatly, before, now broken down, covered in writhing shadows that made it look like the earth was moving. How many people had been asleep, she wondered? How many people had been spending time with loved ones and then suddenly everything was just—falling apart? Had any of them had time to figure out what was happening? (She wondered that about her home, too. When the world had fallen, how many of the others had realized what they were about to face? Had any of them tried to run? Had they tried to save their friends? Had they even had the time to realize what was going on?)
Her eyes locked on the castle. It stood above everything and had suffered the least. Nominally, it was where the most important people in the city were supposed to reside, but she knew that was a lie; how could any of them be more important than the people below? They were supposed to protect the people in the town, and where were they? (They were supposed to protect the Dandelions, but the end had come on so suddenly, and they thought they'd had time, and then they didn't, and it was all they could do to save themselves.)
"It's Daybreak Town," she whispered. She shuddered, and it pulsed against the restraints of the spell. "I—why are you doing this?"
"Because I need you to understand something. Worlds fall. It's messy. It's terrifying to witness and next to impossible to stop. You are one person. You tried before and failed—and you had friends then. You're alone, now. You aren't going to be able to stop this. So it'd be better if you'd just give up and head out."
There was something angry in his voice—restrained, somewhat, like he was trying to stay calm and not quite managing it. (And if she listened closely, she thought she could hear something bitter; something that said that maybe, maybe this was something he needed to believe more than he needed her to.)
Something moved near the castle.
The spell still held strong, but she could twist her head just enough to look at it: Zidane, emerging at the top of one of the towers. She couldn't make out his expression from here, but she could see him move, watching as he looked around and finally, finally, turned towards the sky.
"You're wrong," she hissed, and this time, it felt like it was entirely her. "I'm not alone. And it's still worth fighting, even if we can't do anything."
There was a sharp tearing, whirring sound, and for a moment, she thought it was Luxu, preparing another attack. Then the wind whipped up, tugging on her clothes, her hair; as she watched, bits of the town broke away and started to float skyward, and she realized that this was something else entirely.
(For a moment, she was standing at the top of the Clock Tower, watching helplessly as the town below slowly broke apart.)
"Right. Of course. I forgot who I was speaking to."
The words registered just a heartbeat too late; then she was moving, suddenly, thrown through the air by Luxu's magic. "You're thinking about those little friends you brought with you, right? The ones that joined you on Destiny Islands." She came to an abrupt halt, and it felt like she'd slammed into something—like a wall had appeared out of thin air, solid beneath her hands and feet.
And then she was moving again, something tugging at her back, and she scrambled to hold herself in place and failed. "I'm sure they'll be a real big help. A sailor and a thief. Exactly the sort of people you'd want to bring to the apocalypse."
The world turned into a blur of red; the force of the motion tore the air from her lungs and made her chest feel like it was caving in on itself. She stopped just as abruptly as she had before, back slamming hard into something she couldn't see. She started to slide down, and then found herself tugged upwards again by Luxu's strange magic, tossed into motion.
"Your friends before were Keyblade wielders. Maybe not as powerful as the Foretellers, but they at least had the right tools to try and fight off the Darkness. And the lot of you still couldn't do it. Right now, the only Keyblade wielder here is you."
She hit something heavily—a floating piece of debris, she realized, hands finally curling into something solid. She took a shuddering breath, tears pricking at her eyes.
Luxu hovered above her, cast in shadow. Behind him was a swirling red thing, wind whipping around it, slowly sucking everything towards it like a black hole.
Skuld started to lift towards it, pulled off the ground against her will. Just as abruptly she was slammed back down, held in place by Luxu's magic.
"Now," Luxu said, and the words reverberated, weighty and painful, "I have places I need to be. Loose ends I need to take care of. So it'd be a real help if you could just grab your friends and leave." There was something softer in his voice as he added, "You can't save this world, Skuld. Just keep your friends close and find somewhere to hide. Trust me, you'll be happier that way."
Skuld managed a glare. "I'm not leaving them."
"…Fine."
The pressure around Skuld's chest tightened. She gasped, and then abruptly found her breath cut off, and that brought about a sense of panic because she realized that Luxu might not be willing to let her go this time.
"Skuld!"
She wasn't in the Daybreak Town, this time. This time, she was back in that field of flowers, staring at a figure with a fox mask. "Ava."
"Okay. Okay, good, I can speak to you here."
"What am I—what am I supposed to do?" Skuld took a half-stumbling step towards her. "I keep seeing all these memories, and the world is falling, and Luxu won't stop—"
"I know. I know, I know, but—but you can get through this. Just trust me, okay?"
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't feel like a Union Leader. I'm just—me."
Ava gave her a sad sort of smile. She turned, and the wind rustled her cloak a little. For a moment, it seemed to burn, small trails of flame drifting away from her. "You know," she murmured, "this was where I made you a Union Leader. You didn't know what to do then, either—but you never faltered. Not once."
"Ava—"
Ava turned to face her, and Skuld's voice failed. When she spoke again, her words crackled like fire: "Be smart. I chose you for a reason. You can outwit him. You've done it before, after all."
"Ava, wait—"
She gasped, and then the image was gone. The spell was still pressing hard on her chest, and it felt like the weight of gravity was crushing her. It made it hard to think, and she scrambled for something she could use.
Outwit him. Outwit him how? I can't move. I can't—
He might let up if he thinks I'm beaten.
It felt like a longshot, but she didn't think she had many other options. She made a show of trying to struggle against the spell (and there might've been a small part of her that hoped she could get out, even if she knew it wasn't entirely likely), and then she let herself go limp, holding her breath.
The spell didn't weaken, and for a moment, she thought she might've miscalculated. But then—
I can move my fingers.
She twisted her Keyblade and aimed it, as best she could, towards Luxu. She didn't think she'd manage a Zero Gravity spell like before, but she could manage a Fire spell, the attack flying haphazardly towards him.
Luxu moved out of the way easily, but it didn't matter; all she'd needed to do was get him to lessen his grip on her.
Skuld kicked off the debris and fell.
Luxu whipped towards her. His weapon appeared in a blur, shots bursting from the tip.
Skuld hit another piece of debris as it rose; the first one created a barrier between her and the attack, and it shuddered, grit spraying across her head. What am I supposed to do? I can't fight if I can't move around. I need to—
The debris. She couldn't hover in the air like Luxu could—she didn't have that sort of magic—but maybe…
She flung herself off the bit of earth, magic trailing behind her like a comet. Her feet hit a bit of stone, and then a part of a rooftop, and she skidded haphazardly along it, trying to keep Luxu in her sights and keep moving.
(There was a familiarity here. A fraction of a memory, still hazy around the edges, of another too-frantic fight against something that was stronger than her. Then, she'd been hemmed in by walls, terrified of launching an attack that was too strong and hurting the people that were important to her. Now, the sky was open to her—but that was her opponent's domain, and she could only keep moving and hope desperately for an opening.)
There was a hectic sort of pace to her movements, everything more a chase than a fight, really. She felt a little like a hare, funneling magic into her legs to dart out of range of a spell that crushed the rock she'd been standing on, swinging on a Collision Magnet spell to avoid the flurry of shots that were sent her way. Luxu looked tired, but she didn't think that was from the fight—from the wound he'd sustained before, maybe, or from his exasperation with her. It didn't matter; she couldn't slow down, or she'd be caught.
It also meant that she couldn't summon a portal to get back to the keyhole chamber.
Skuld gritted her teeth. If I can't get there that way, then maybe—but I'll have to be quick.
Another shot, brushing past her cheek. She flung a Collision Magnet spell at another piece of debris, swinging around wide.
And then she launched herself down, practically hurtling towards the next bit of rock.
Luxu caught on quickly; while the first few attacks still predicted too far—too close to her previous route—the next scattered earth against her side. She shot downwards, quicker, quicker, moving as fast as she could. She didn't dare look back—it would slow her down too much, and she needed to get to the chamber.
It was a race she wasn't sure she would win—but she had to try, zigzagging as best she could across the debris, eyes burning as she cast a Fire spell to try and blow dirt back in Luxu's face, a Zero Gravity spell to shift the position of the debris, free-falling at points to conserve magic and hoping beyond hope that that wouldn't be the moment that Luxu caught up to her.
The castle came into view. I'm close. I can get there. She swung around, Collision Magnet spell locked onto one of the castle's spires, swinging her feet first towards the window—
And then she felt herself caught in a snare, the weight of gravity clawing at her back.
She let out a wordless scream of frustration, then pain, as the spell flung her roughly against the ground. Someone, she thought, shouted her name. Her vision blurred; when it cleared, her stomach dropped.
She was far below the castle now. Water lapped at the edges of what might've been a street at one point; it looked like the world had cracked apart, spilling water to compensate for what it lost. She tried to push herself to her feet, but everything ached, and her breath hissed quietly from between her teeth.
Water splashed. Small ripples spread across her fingertips. There was a wet tap-tap-tap as Luxu drew closer.
Skuld sucked in a breath and swung her Keyblade wildly upwards.
It clanged against the underside of Luxu's gun. Her arm shook; Luxu barely reacted, flicking his weapon to the side and forcing her to topple backwards. Her breath came heavy in her throat and in her chest; there was a helpless, desperate sort of feeling there, and she let out a cry as she surged to her feet, funneling magic into her legs and making a feint to Luxu's side, hoping to leap over him—
And then crashing, helpless, back to the ground when he caught her in a spell.
She lay there, stunned, for a couple of moments. The spell didn't stick, and she turned slowly, trying to ignore the pain that fluttered through her ribs and made her limbs ache.
"You know," Luxu said, and the world flickered, distorted almost; when she looked up, she wasn't sure if she was seeing him or Xehanort or—someone else. "You're a real pain in the ass. But I guess I've got to hand it to you: it makes you a decent Keyblade wielder."
There was a strange sort of knowing, in the back of her mind. She looked up at the figure approaching her, and realized it didn't really matter who it was; she knew what came next.
(This was where the world fell.
She'd been here before. She remembered, now, even if she didn't really want to. Ephemer—Ephemer, Ephemer, how had she ever forgotten that?—had stayed behind with her and another of their friends. There hadn't been enough lifeboats for all of them. None of them had wanted to leave the others behind.
In the end, it hadn't mattered, and suddenly she could feel the sharp, painful sting of betrayal, the frantic, terrified fight against someone she loved and didn't want to hurt, the ache in her bones and the resignation as she realized she was about to be struck down by that same friend—)
"I didn't want this."
She could feel Luxu watching her.
(These were her last memories, painted in slowly—the memories of who she'd been before, before Skuld had died and Subject X had taken her place. Her last memories were of a fallen world. Of grief, mourning for a friend that she'd tried to save once and who had died anyways. Of Ephemer—the future founder of Scala ad Caelum, but still a boy, still scared, still as uncertain as she was—helping her into one of the lifeboats and trying to reassure her through tears that things weren't over yet. Of darkness, and terror, and then—nothing at all.)
Skuld's breath shuddered in her chest. "Luxu, please. You couldn't save us before, but you can do something here. Please."
Luxu sighed, and the sound was bone-weary. "Sorry, kid." He pointed his weapon towards her.
"Skuld! Skuld!"
Zidane. That's right—he'd come out of the castle, hadn't he? He'd probably seen her fall. When she looked, she caught sight of him, hurtling her way, daggers already flashing free. "Leave her alone!"
Luxu glanced up, for just a heartbeat. His weapon shifted, and Skuld's chest seized. No.
(She wasn't going to lose another friend.)
She moved, acting on a memory—she supposed, at the very least, that was something she could thank Luxu for. After all, she likely never would've thought of sending a portal through someone if she didn't remember Ephemer doing it to their wayward friend.
Her Keyblade shifted. Luxu didn't even have time to react before the beam had shot through him.
He jerked, whipping towards her in surprise. He stared down at the beam, and then gave a sardonic, bitter sort of smile. "Too clever for your own good."
And then he was gone, taken somewhere else. Skuld couldn't be sure where—she just hoped it was far enough away from here that he couldn't come back anytime soon.
"What was that?" Zidane called, bounding down towards her. "That was the eyepatch guy, right? I saw you fighting."
She managed a weak smile, even if she didn't really feel it. "Hey," she said. It felt strange addressing him with so many memories in her head. She tried to stand and stumbled, gasping and bracing herself with her Keyblade.
"Hey, hey, hey, easy." He moved as if to steady her, then stopped, hands held awkwardly over her back.
"We—we need to get back in there. In the castle."
"Skuld—"
"I didn't seal the keyhole. I can't fail again, Zidane, I can't."
"Again?"
She almost wanted to laugh. Of course he wouldn't know; the memories were in her head, not his. But it still felt strange, when it felt like her world had been turned upside down.
She must've taken too long to answer, because Zidane continued, quiet, "Look."
He pointed, and she followed the line of his finger. Most of the town was gone, she realized; it had been torn away, dragged towards the sphere in the sky. Islands of land lay between them, floating almost unnaturally. The castle looked like it was falling apart, piece by piece.
"There's not really much of a world left to save." Zidane turned and gave her a sad look. "We need to go."
"But—I'm—I was supposed to—"
(What made you think you could save a world when you couldn't before?)
"The others," she whispered. "Lea and Isa and Jim."
Zidane's expression steeled. "We'll find them," he promised. "Can you stand?"
She took a breath, then braced her Keyblade against the ground. She lifted herself onto shaking legs and tried to hold herself steady, then nodded, tight.
Zidane gave her a careful, searching look, then nodded back and launched himself into the air.
(She was back on that hill of flowers. The sky was turning red. Her friends were in front of her, and—she had names for them, now. Ephemer. Brain. Lauriam. Ven.
"Don't go," she breathed.
They turned.
"Don't go, please—")
She gave one last, desperate glance towards the castle walls. And then she turned and ran, tripping, stumbling, launching herself off the ledge and towards the nearest bit of rock.
(She moved, just like she always did in these dreams. She raced towards her friends, hands outstretched as the world crumbled around her.
She'd never reached them. Not once.)
Rough ground scraped against her palms and knees. The rock she was on lifted, tugged towards the sky. Her breath hissed between her teeth, and she moved, launching herself to another floating bit of stone, and then another, magic pulsing through her legs and feet and burning in her chest. She couldn't stop, couldn't stop, couldn't stop, or else she'd end up slipping, and she couldn't afford that, she couldn't—
She hit a ledge hard. Her cheek slammed against the side; her hands scrambled at the edge as it lifted. She lost her purchase and fell, tumbling over and over herself.
No! A Collision Magnet spell flew from Starlight's edge, connecting with one of the floating bits of rock. She pulled, the force sending her forward and the rock closer. She took a breath and then moved, kicking off the rock and flying higher, ignoring the pain in her legs as she tried to right herself. She hit solid ground, finally, the world rushing towards her painfully.
She barely stopped; she shot to her feet, racing towards the broken, abandoned town. "Lea!" she shouted, throat raw. "Isa!" Her lungs burned. "Ji—!"
The world rocked. The earth crumbled out from beneath her, and she gasped. She wobbled, then moved, bounding up the crumbling cobblestone, reaching desperately for the ledge.
(She had magic now. She was a Keyblade wielder. She should—
But she'd always been a Keyblade wielder, and in the past, she'd known better how to wield her weapon than she did now.
The dream always ended the same.)
Her fingers grazed the edge. Her nails scraped painfully against the stone. Earth scattered over her head, and she stared, helpless, at the ledge as she fell.
Zidane, still ahead of her, turned too slowly. He shouted in alarm, shooting after her.
(Her friends stared after her. She flung out a hand, desperate, but she was already too far away.)
She hit something—some broken bit of the town, a fallen building or a bit of the street or a fragment of the castle, she wasn't sure. Something snapped in her arm, and the world disappeared in a brief haze, her ears ringing. Starlight's familiar warmth vanished.
Skuld took a gasping, shuddering breath and tried to push herself to her feet. Pain shot up her arm when she tried to use it; it gave out beneath her, and her cheek scraped through rough earth. She shook and tried again, and again, and again, dragging herself forward until she was on her hands and knees.
Zidane landed beside her. "Are you okay?"
"I—"
The world around her was chaotic. The sky almost seemed to be sparking, red and angry. Debris floated around a red, glowing orb that radiated a sort of energy that made Skuld's chest tighten. What remained of the town fractured, torn skyward. It was a different town, but a familiar sight, and for a moment, she was staring at Daybreak Town, not Radiant Garden.
("Skuld, it's way too dangerous out here. Let's go back inside.")
Skuld tried to stand and failed. She caught herself with her bad arm and hissed as it gave out.
Zidane moved, hovering around her anxiously. "Hey, hey, easy. We're okay. We're—we're okay. It's going to be okay."
She barely heard him; she dragged herself forward, ignoring the pain in her arm and chest. "Please."
("It takes so much time and effort to create, but only an instant to destroy…")
The world blurred. Her body shook. She tried to call Starlight, but she was still shivering, unable to focus, and got only sparks. "Please."
("Come on."
"…Okay.")
"I can't—I can't fail again. Please, I need them to be—"
The world shook. Skuld fell. Her cheek rested against the rough stone.
After a few moments Zidane sat beside her. He didn't say anything this time.
Everything was growing hazy, but—she thought she could hear a faint buzzing, somewhere. Voices. Someone calling their names.
Zidane perked up a little. "Hey," he said, "hey, that's—"
"Skuld! Zidane!"
"Jim!" Zidane shot to his feet, waving frantically.
Skuld cracked open her eyes. The world was blurry, but there was—a shape, she thought. Someone familiar. Something that almost looked like a makeshift lifeboat, and a hand stretching out towards them.
She reached back.
("Thank you for being here, Ephemer.")
I'm glad I don't have to face the end alone.
I HAVE REWRITTEN THIS CHAPTER SO MANY TIMES PLEASE TAKE IT FROM ME.
Anyway, now that we're at the end of the fall of Radiant Garden, I have notes!
- This collection of chapters (these two plus the next one) were the main reason I decided to write this story and not just keep it in my head. They've been a long time coming, so I hope that I've done them justice.
- Surprisingly, this chapter was the hardest one to write. There were a couple of different ideas I had for presenting this chapter—for example, I considered just having most of the chapter be Skuld exploring her memories. There were variations where she had a confrontation with a specter of Xehanort/the Player, or where there was a specter of herself as a guide, or where the chapter was less focused on her being IN her memories and more focused on her dealing with the fall. I finally got to a place where I'm reasonably happy with the chapter like…last night at midnight. I was not kidding about how many times I've rewritten and edited this chapter; I haven't slept a whole lot this week, aha.
- The fall of Radiant Garden was conceptualized as essentially like…one big chapter that I knew would be split into two ahead of time. This meant that there were a couple of different options for where I'd split things. I considered splitting it right at the beginning of the fall to keep all the flashback stuff with Lea, Isa, and Xehanort in one chapter and the fall in another, but the scene with Luxu ended up being the more natural breaking point.
- Speaking of Luxu: Whenever he appears, I've been trying to make him feel very…unnerving. Like he's up to something, yes, but also like he just…doesn't mesh with the world quite right. It made him very interesting to write, haha! (Also just…there's a lot going on with him—most of which I've only hinted at—which ALSO makes him really interesting.)
- Also if you're wondering why I wrote through the first part of the fall if I considered breaking the chapters after the Lea/Isa/Xehanort stuff: originally I planned to write all of the fall + the fallout over the course of one weekend and THEN figure out where I'd break things. That…didn't end up happening, but I DID end up writing the first of these chapters in, like…a day. So. There's that.
- There has been so much foreshadowing for this. You don't understand, I've been planning this for SO LONG, there's foreshadowing everywhere.
- 'Who Is She (Reprise)' from the Centaurworld soundtrack was the theme for this chapter, because I heard that and immediately went, "Oh, that's a Skuld song."
I actually have…a lot more I could say about these chapters, honestly, but these notes are already too long, so I'm going to cut myself off there. Next up: the fallout.
Also, thank you Lacan Shinn and batmanuchiha for reviewing last chapter! For the review responses:
Lacan Shinn: I'm glad you thought it was original, because I was worried it was too cliché, haha; I left it there because, given the context of everything else, it felt like the most fitting way to end the chapter. But obviously, not a red herring; she does in fact get her memories back this chapter, albeit she's…not entirely sure this was what she wanted. I'm also very happy to hear that the last chapter was emotionally effective—especially the parts with the fights against the Heartless, since I always get nervous about writing prolonged fight scenes. As for if this takes place in the same universe as Dandelion Seeds: technically yes, but I'm trying not to include too many references because I want people to be able to enjoy this story on its own. For your questions: No memories were taken from Eraqus specifically, just the player, Terra, and Xehanort. None of the townspeople they spoke to were Kairi's grandma, but now I kind of wish one of them had been, aha. The move Luxu used was unique to him—ALL of the magic he's using is Luxu-specific, actually, it just got passed on to Braig when he possessed him. In this case, he's using it because of…kind of a combination of frustration and respect for her position as a Union Leader, if that makes sense? And also just the fact that he doesn't have time to mess around—especially since, if he holds back, there's a legitimate chance of him losing. As for waiting for Dark Road—I stated at the beginning that I'd try to keep this canon-compliant with Dark Road so long as the finale wasn't released super late. As it is, though, we're kind of past the point where I'd be able to take the finale into account effectively—and this was going to end up as an AU eventually, anyways, so I'm not going to worry about waiting until the DR finale releases to finish the story.
batmanuchiha: She is! Though…she's not super thrilled about the answers she got.