Moribundum Fatum

by Ari Powwel

[In-progress] There is life and there is death, nothing inbetween. But now, he'll learn that things aren't always what they seem. There -is- an inbetween, and there are complications you'd never dream of . . .

3. inaudax

Chapter Three: FINALLY. I have to apologise for taking so long with this, but the third chapters always seem to want to murder me. But it's done, it's here, aaaaaaaaaand it's in time for Christmas! Yei! I have to apologise for turning it into a song fic/chapter. I couldn't resist. Latin words . . . you'll find the translations for them at the bottom of each chapter, save for the title :) Finally, yes, Hyite's eyes are as I describe. I know the difference between the pupil and the iris :)
Kingdom Hearts is not mine. I wish, though! Lyrics to Lullaby for a Stormy Night belong to Vienna Teng.
Suggested Music: Lullaby for a Stormy Night by Vienna Teng, available at http : w w w. viennateng. com/ listen as well as Above the Rising Falls, an OverClocked remix, available at http : w w w. ocremix. org/ detailmix. php? mixid OCR01229

3 — .i.n.a.u.d.a.x. — 3

As the door closed behind him, Riku strode forward, determined not to let his suspicions get the best of him. This wasn't going to kill him . . . right?

He walked for a few minutes in the dark, finally convincing himself that he was going in circles. As he drew this conclusion, he paused, waiting. He wasn't quite sure what he was waiting for, but something told him to wait. He tapped a foot impatiently, waiting.

One minute went by. Then another. And a third. Riku looked around in irritation, arms crossed. Unless this was a challenge of patience—and perhaps it was—he wasn't going to get anywhere waiting like this.

That was the last thought he had before he was falling, falling, falling, through a hole that had suddenly appeared beneath his feet.

Riku couldn't help the yelp of surprise that forced its way past his lips, but stifled it quickly as he continued falling, biting down on one gloved hand. Whatever he'd been expecting, it hadn't been this.

However, before long he felt other forces pulling on him, and soon he alighted gracefully on a red and black chequered floor. Riku looked up over his head, but all he could see was chequered tile, stretching far overhead and finally turning to darkness. Riku shivered slightly; the effect was rather eerie. Before him, the tunnel did the same thing: tile spiralled over the wall and ceiling, making the entire tunnel seem circular—or maybe it was circular? Riku didn't know; the entire thing was rotating slowly. He blinked twice as the tunnel's walls came in and out of focus, making him take a step to steady himself.

He couldn't stay here, he realised, as the tunnel was beginning to move faster. Riku made his way forward, but the spinning was playing with his senses; he stumbled forward, closing his eyes against the dizzying turning of red and black. Hopefully he wouldn't fall over anything.

What's the point of this? Riku wondered as he staggered along, opening his eyes every few seconds to see if the swirling had stopped. Why use such a trick for a challenge? This can't be a challenge. So . . . what is the challenge?

A sound reached his ears, a deep pitched whine that slowly grew sharper, until the whine was so high and loud he winced. Th—the siren!

The siren was issued from the main island, normally sounded to signal a disaster or a hazard nearing the islands. Riku had heard the siren several times in his life, and no matter where they were, the villagers had dropped everything and rushed toward the safety of a house—any house. Riku remembered as a child no more than six, being hustled into a house by a man he'd never met before, watching his mother across the street ducking into a vendor's stand, looking around for her son. However, no sooner had the door shut than the man crouched down to his level, asking where his mother was and how they could reach her.

Of course, there hadn't always been shelter nearby. Riku could remember himself, Kairi, and Sora holing up on Destiny Islands more than once, huddling together as far away from the door of the Great Tree as possible.

Now, however, Riku wasn't focused on finding shelter. He was wondering where the siren was coming from. He was wondering how whoever had sounded it had known about the siren on his island, and how they knew he'd respond to it.

His mind flashed back suddenly to the last time the siren had been run. A monsoon had attacked the islands, lightning striking a tree located between two houses, causing both houses to alight as well. By the time the monsoon had abandoned the island and the fires had been doused, three houses had been charred, one was burnt to the sand, and one had died. Riku felt a cold numbness spreading through his veins—whatever was going on now would be bad. He opened his eyes, the dizziness of the spiralling tunnel the furthest thing from his mind, and ran, down the tunnel toward the focus of the siren. The tunnel stretched before him, first seeming to be longer, then shorter, wider, and so narrow he couldn't breathe. The siren continued through it all, an incessant pounding at his ears that nearly made him fall to the ground more than once.

Finally, the end was in sight. Riku's pace quickened, his own ragged breathing pounding in his ears. It was bright up ahead . . . very bright . . . He was growing closer; the mouth of the tunnel was steadily growing bigger. Riku was met with a wall of heat as he continued running, which seemed only to fuel his flight, making him run faster, faster. He was having a really bad feeling about this . . .

Another fire? But—I can't really—this can't be Destiny Islands!

After what seemed like an eternity, Riku finally burst out of the tunnel, clothes quickly becoming plastered to his skin, due to the rain falling in sheets from the sky. Before his mind had processed this thought, or even adjusted to the stationary ground, his eyes had landed on another sight. A flaming house. More importantly, his flaming house.

There was a crowd of people ringing it, and for a split second, Riku felt his lip curling—he'd never liked to have many people know where his house was. Of course, people were to be expected, he supposed; after all, his house was going down in flames . . .

He supposed he should be sad, but Riku couldn't bring himself to be. After all, his brother, Asa, owned another house exactly like it not far away. His parents were missing, presumed dead, so no-one would be in the house.

Riku's heart plunged, however, when the faint tinkling notes of a piano reached his ears.

Someone was inside.

Someone was playing.

There was a scream of terror before him, quickly muffled with the sound of hands clapping over someone's mouth, and Riku pushed through the people to the front to see Kairi and Sora, both staring at the house in horror. Sora seemed frozen, eyes wide, but Kairi was backing away, both hands over her mouth, stifling her scream. 'He—he's still inside!' she gasped, finally pulling her hands away. 'He's still there! We can't let him stay in there; he'll die!' She looked to both sides, and then, with a little cry, ran forward. Towards the flaming house.

Within seconds, she was through the doorway, the door clicking as it settled back into its frame.

The clicking noise was the catalyst. Both Riku and Sora pushed forward, each crying, 'Kairi!' simultaneously. 'Kairi, come back!' Riku shouted, trying to push past Sora, who had been stopped by two men.

'Sora, you can't go in after her. I can't let you,' one was saying softly, trying to console the brunet, but he would hear none of it.

'And I can't let Kairi go in!' he pleaded. 'She'll die!'

The men holding his arms both looked away, toward the ground. Riku knew what they were thinking: Better one than two. Better two than three. We can't let any more die than already have.

But he couldn't let her just kill herself that way. He shouted again, finally spotting an opening to run toward the house. However, he was little more than halfway there when he felt hands on his arms, pulling him back. 'You cannot interfere,' said a voice at his right, deep and dark. Riku felt his blood run cold at it. 'If you try to interfere, she will die. It is as simple as that.'

Riku grit his teeth. He couldn't let her die in the fire. But . . . if he tried to go in and save her, they would just kill her, wouldn't they?

Up at the door, someone looked up from the doorway. 'They can't get back out!' he shouted, obviously shaken. 'The knob's melted clean flat; it's stuck in the frame!'

Riku felt his legs give out from under him. Kairi was going to die. Simple as that. He felt the two men at either side of him, holding him up, but wished they would just leave him be.

There was a loud popping noise, and a section of the roof exploded, flaming pieces of shingle raining around them. Everyone winced, covering their heads, but as the shouts of surprise died down, Riku heard something that made the dread in his heart grow a hundred times heavier.

The piano was still playing—had it stopped yet?—but now, it was joined by another part. A slightly higher countermelody, played carefully and antagonisingly perfectly. He blinked hard, raising a hand to push silver hair from his face, listening closely for what he knew would be coming next.

Sure enough, after only a moment, two voices reached him, one a pure tenor almost like his own, the other a sweet alto, singing in harmony:

'And I hope that you'll know
That nature is so
This same rain that draws you near me
Falls on rivers and land
On forests and sand
Makes the beautiful world that you see
In the morning . . .'

A scream. His scream? He didn't know anymore; he had his eyes shut tightly against the sight, though it seemed to be inscribed into his mind.

'Everything's fine in the morning . . .
The rain'll be gone in the morning . . .
But we'll still be here in the morning.'

'Stop!' he cried, opening his eyes and watching drops of moisture fall into the dirt below. Was he . . . ?

It was only then that he realised it had.

Stopped, at least. The house before him was frozen, another piece of roof falling into the dirt below, rain paused midair. One note from the piano was being held out, never fading, never diminishing. Riku looked in amazement from person to person, the rain buffeted around by the air as he turned, until he reached the two that had held him back from the house. They were watching him curiously, heads tilted. He couldn't see their faces—they were in shadow, although they weren't wearing hat nor hood—but they seemed uninterested by the stopping of time.

Applause reached his ears, the slow, solitary clapping of one man. Riku tried to turn to see who it was, but the hands holding him back wouldn't loosen their grip, and as he couldn't see directly behind himself, he would have to wait. He wouldn't know what the person behind him looked like until he came before him. 'What's going on?' Riku asked warily.

The man was humming, Riku realised, humming a low song that cut off sharply when Riku asked. 'Ask and be answered, but be well aware: answers aren't biased; well they don't fare!'

Even understanding how dark the situation was—Kairi was trapped inside the house!—Riku couldn't help but raise a silver eyebrow. What was this thing talking about? More uncertainly this time, Riku repeated his question.

'Trial the first is trial the worst,' answered the voice cryptically. 'Others may argue; their bubbles have been burst. Listen closely, my boy, for this is the last time, that you will be free to speak without rhyme!'

'What do you me—' Riku began to ask suspiciously, then cut himself off.

'Breaking the rules of the challenge, you see,' explained the man patiently, 'gives another opportunity of torture to me. You've mark number one, allowed me some fun! Watch and see, consequences three.'

Time unfroze, the last note trailing off into nothingness. The part of roof falling landed on the ground with a crash, a spout of flame issuing from where it struck the ground, forcing all the fire to one side of it. There was a scream from inside the house.

Above all of it, there was a ticking.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Time froze again, another flaming piece of debris dangerously close to Riku's head.

'Watch and see, consequences three,' repeated the voice, softer this time, closer. 'If you disobey the rules that I've set, another of your few consequences is met. You've allowed one to me, subtracted from three. You've only two left; your words must be deft.'

Riku couldn't help but grimace at the chain of words. It was evident that the other man had had plenty of time to come up with a rhyme (and he smirked at this thought; was he already beginning to think in rhymes?), while Riku had just been told this, and wasn't quite sure if he could adhere to the rules of the challenge. He stared at his feet for a minute in thought, then posed a question, starting slowly, but gradually gathering more confidence: 'Tell me, monsieur, is it false or true, that the rules you've set also apply to you?' There. That was good, wasn't it? He'd heard the word monsieur used around the Beast's castle, but he wasn't positive if that was how to use it . . . Riku sighed as the other man didn't immediately pounce upon his line. Apparently, he'd been right.

The voice's owner finally circled around him, and Riku smirked to himself at the spark of challenge in the other man's grey eyes. 'Normally, no, I'm above my own rule. But I suppose I can make an exception for you. Raising the stakes should be much more fun, but don't expect me to make mistake number one.'

'But I bet you'll miss yet,' pressed Riku, challenging him. 'Stakes must be set. Because, as they'll tell, you must have consequence as well.'

The man seemed absolutely delighted by this; he clapped his hands once and hopped slightly. 'Finally someone who picked it up fast! A shame, my dear boy, that you had to come last.'

'Stories for later, when I leave to where I came,' quipped Riku. 'Tell me your stakes, and then, what is your name?'

The man made a face at him. 'For every time that I fall out of rhyme, we will rewind your last consequence of time.'

'Fine. Start the game,' said Riku, 'and I repeat: what's your name?'

'What does it matter; what's in a name? However, it's Tiyhe, if it's all the same.'

Riku fixed the name to the face. The man called Tiyhe was short, at least an inch shorter than Riku himself. Light brown hair stuck out in all directions, making it look like he'd just rolled out of bed. He wore a pinstriped light blue and white button-down shirt, left untucked over black pants and boots. He was quite aware that it was his 'turn' to speak, and after a moment of contemplation he asked, 'Is that all there is to this game that we play? To wait for someone to err in some way?'

Tiyhe smirked, grey eyes seeming to spark with malice. 'That was a lousy rhyme you just said. Is it infamous Riku is losing his head?'

Just answer the damn question, Riku nearly spat, but contained himself, instead answering, 'You've had experience, as time would surely tell. Now, I've answered your query; answer mine as well.'

'Very well,' said Tiyhe, 'I'll explain why your house burns, but do me the favour of permitting me extra turns?'

'Take as much time as you need to tell the tale, about the challenge over which I must prevail,' Riku agreed, wincing slightly as he realised the rhyme was a bit longer than all the previous ones had been. The two men that had been holding him finally released him; Riku had actually forgotten they were there, so intense upon the rhyming had he been.

Tiyhe raised an eyebrow as Riku felt the blood rushing back into his hands, but didn't comment, instead launching into his explanation. 'You're skilled in asking what the true challenge be. You'd never find out, were it left up to me. Having someone to duel with has always been fun, but before long, our numbers will reduce back to one.' He sighed mournfully before continuing, 'Rhyming can be a tricky thing to do, so I added it to my challenge: in one, there is two. Thinking of rhymes has always kept me occupied, too, while waiting for another Intervigiliumance to pass through.' This time, Riku raised an eyebrow at the awkward wording of his rhyme. 'Look, what a shame! Rhymes are fading away. Boy, this could well be your lucky day.

'But continuing, the challenge is to tell me a name. If you figure it out, you'll have won our little game. The name not of a friend, though foe may it be, the name of a 'sin' is what you'll tell to me. Of Ficre's Sins, this is admitted the least. Few find the courage to tame this beast. Give the word and the challenge starts; as a precaution, it comes in two parts.'

Riku held up a hand, looking to the side as he thought about this. Finally he said, 'Before I shall leave, stop playing with my head. My . . . my friend Kairi. Is she truly . . . de—ah!' Riku felt his knee give out from underneath him as a sharp pain lanced through it, almost as if a needle had been shoved straight through the joint. However, with a quick hopping step, he had regained his balance.

Unfortunately, Tiyhe was looking at him with a demonic grin that nearly threw his balance off again. 'That would be consequence number two!' he proclaimed, doing a little jig in place. 'Really, I thought you knew better, Riku.'

As he said this, Riku's mind was racing, racing to find some way to keep the screams from starting again. 'Screams will be ended, my challenge to start,' he blurted, nearly stumbling over his words as he spoke. 'Courage to help me, go to the first part!'

As screams reached his ears again, Riku's surroundings faded to darkness, the crackling sound of the flames fading with it, leaving him in silence as an eerie fog drifted past. Strangely, Riku found he could see past the darkness and the haze, he could see through it to where another figure was leaning casually with his back against something else, one foot braced against the wall as though to push himself off. One hand was buried deep in a pocked, the other holding the edge of a black fedora, pulled low over the figure's eyes. Something about the figure was familiar, and as he moved closer, Riku could recognise it to be Tiyhe. 'I know Intervigilium isn't mere jokes like this, so drop the façade and the shadowy mist,' Riku rhymed flatly.

As he finally arrived in front of Tiyhe, the other man raised his head, revealing dark eyes, ringed with red along the outer edge of the pupil. The red seeped into the iris, deepening it to a colour that was nearly black. 'Unlike the Tiyhe you met before, rhyming is not something I require in my part of the challenge,' said the man. His voice was quieter, darker somehow, deeper.

Riku tried to keep himself from backing away, hiding the shock he'd felt at the first sight of the man's eyes. That wasn't the only difference between the man and Tiyhe, Riku noticed, finally taking in some of the subtle changes. As he removed the fedora, Riku could see darker hair, although it still stuck out in all directions. He was taller, too; much taller than Riku, wearing a deep red shirt and a long black trenchcoat.

'If you're not Tiyhe,' Riku asked warily, 'then who are you?'

'You may call me Hyite,' said the man—

And then he was gone.

Riku felt the hand curling around his throat before it actually touched; he ducked and lashed out towards where he imagined the man to be, listening to the telltale swishing of the trenchcoat as the man—Hyite—dodged. He threw himself to the side to avoid the impending attack, but a hand was twisted into his hair and a booted foot into his back, rendering him motionless. 'This may be a tougher ordeal than I previously thought.' There was a pause, and then the man spoke again. 'Excellent . . . I've been looking for a challenge lately. We will see how much of one you prove to be.'

An arm wrapped around his throat as the man bent forward, twisting Riku's arm behind his back, pulling him upwards as Hyite removed his foot.

Riku tried to struggle, but it was as though his veins had been filled with lead. He hung limply, feet just barely touching the darkened ground, straining to move an arm. However, the man merely pulled him further into the air, hissing into his ear, 'And we'll see to which you turn.'

Hyite dropped him unceremoniously, stepping over his crumpled body to stride into the darkness. 'Come,' was the only thing said. Rubbing his neck, Riku glared after him, struggling to stand. He staggered after the man slowly, cursing him in as many different ways as he could.

He felt something liquid sliding over his arm, trickling down his fingers. A weight began to grow in his hand, a very familiar weight, and Riku looked down to see his sword, slowly materialising in his hand. So . . . he could summon the Wingblade here. That would be an invaluable secret. Riku let the sword disappear for the time being, but kept his hand tense, ready to summon the Wingblade at a moment's notice.

He found Hyite standing at the edge of a lake. How he could distinguish dark land from dark water, he didn't know, but yet, there it was. As he approached, the man turned toward him, mahogany eyes flashing darkly.

'Are you ready?' Hyite asked.

Ready for what, exactly?Riku wanted to ask scathingly, but kept himself from repeating the question aloud. Fists clenched at his side, Riku nodded once, muscles tensing.

Hyite seemed to smirk, an expression that did not go unnoticed by the other as he turned away, waving one hand before them.

Almost instantly, the waters began moving, lapping up against the shores, and their surroundings began to dissolve. Everything lightened until they were surrounded by a light blue. Riku felt a shiver go up his spine as a simple yet haunting tune was picked out painstakingly on what sounded to be a piano, but yet wasn't. He saw the source of the tune nearby: several 'wires,' stretched thin over the water's surface, each sounding a clear note as the water struck them. He knew from past experience that if he touched them, they would play as well. Several rooms he'd explored in Hollow Bastion had used the same system to create instruments; one of his pastimes in the Bastion had been carefully plucking out that same tune the crystal cords played now. He felt his shoulders tensing as it continued, and he had to struggle with himself not to allow the Wingblade to form in his hands.

Water was moving on all sides of them, quickly and smoothly, rushing as far away from them as possible. Hyite glanced at the waters, lips tightening in mirth as he remarked, 'I can think of no other place. A suitable location for the first challenge to begin.' He crossed his arms and looked to the ground before them, where another Riku—or more accurately, his body—lay motionless.

Riku watched the scene playing out before him with a grim horror; far above and beyond them, he could see a spot of black, moving toward them. Just then, his other self began to stir, grasping at his head in pain and looking around. Riku heard his own thoughts echoing through his head: Wh—where am I?

The other Riku pushed himself to his feet, slowly turning in a circle to better see his surroundings. Riku could only guess what it looked like: to see the falls flowing backwards, flowing up the incline instead, followed by a figure dressed all in black and then another version of himself—

The other Riku's gaze seemed to slide right over Hyite, but when it reached himself, the other boy paused, looking straight into blue-green eyes for a split-second before turning away, calling for Kairi and Sora.

Finally, his other self stopped, hands falling to his side and head hanging. Where are they? The thought reflected in Riku's mind. They've got to be here, too. I can't—they—they couldn't have been left behind!

He pushed himself off, alighting effortlessly on a floating stone—for a moment. Then he stumbled forward, only just managing to catch himself before he fell off the stone. Riku smirked slightly at his younger self, partly because of his naïveté, and partly because he would never stumble on the stones nowadays. However, before he could prove it to himself, their surroundings blurred, instantly transporting the two to the top of the stones, to the first lift that would take them to the castle. Riku snuck a look at Hyite, who stood, stony-faced, then turned back to his other self, who was staring at the castle. Eyes turned to a reddish crystal near the edge of the platform, and he crossed to it, examining it with a quizzical expression.

'Deep thoughts?' Riku muttered, voice overlapped by another, darker voice. The Riku looking at the transport crystal whirled, elbows raised.

A chuckle. 'There is no need for combat, child. I am merely here to see who has trespassed the borders of the Bastion.'

'The Bastion?' asked the younger Riku hesitantly.

A black-robed figure stepped into view, a mottled green hand holding a sleek staff, signifying their prowess at magicks. 'Look before you,' said the figure, 'and gaze upon the wonder that is the Hollow Bastion.'

Riku shivered at the words; he was now able to recognise the voice as the witch Maleficent's. Don't go with her, you idiot . . . turn around and run from her . . . However, no matter how much he pleaded with his other self, he wouldn't be able to change the course of history. The other Riku looked upon the castle in the distance in concealed awe, looking back at Maleficent, who had an odd smile on her face. 'Do you think—do you think there might be other people there?' he asked hesitantly. 'Other people who don't belong there?'

'It is a possibility,' answered Maleficent. 'The worlds are often travelled lately; if who you are searching for are not here, perhaps they are on another world.'

'How do you get to other worlds?'

'Come, my dear child. Come into the Bastion; we must speak of this elsewhere . . .'

Riku tasted bile in his throat as the scene changed abruptly; as he found himself standing, alone, in the middle of the chapel. No, not alone. Maleficent was standing before him, a dark glare on her face. She wasn't speaking—she would not speak until he knelt before her, one of the rules she'd laid on him. To signify that he was her servant, her loyal servant.

But he wouldn't give her that pleasure.

Before, she had merely curled a lip in disgust at his open defiance, but this time she spoke, voice positively dripping with malice. 'I have tolerated your insolence long enough. You will kneel before me.'

There was a barely-perceptible glow around her staff as she spoke, but the repercussions were huge. Riku fell to his hands and knees as the gravitational forces on his body suddenly increased, determined to drive every square inch of oxygen out of his lungs. He gasped for breath, but every time he drew that blessed breath, it was forced out of his lungs once more.

The force subsided slightly, only enough that he could breathe once more. He panted for breath, trying to balance the amount of oxygen and carbon dioxide in his blood once more, mind not registering what the witch was saying. He felt more forces joining the downward one, pushing against his body until he was kneeling at Maleficent's feet, eyes closed in a mixture of horror and hatred.

'It was reckless to bring her here without at least using a vessel,' said Maleficent, as though what had just occurred had never been. 'Remember, relying too heavily on the dark powers could cost you your heart.'

He wanted to respond, to tell her that he didn't care anymore, that he would work on his own from now on. He grit his teeth, silver hair still swaying in front of his eyes as his body moved, back and forth as he struggled to breathe more.

There was a sudden noise, much like a roar, and Maleficent's gaze shifted from Riku, the pressure on his body receding. He jumped to his feet, head turning slowly to the doorway. However, there was nothing there, and as Maleficent spoke, he knew he'd received his next assignment. 'A castaway. Though his world perished, his heart did not. When we took the princess from his castle, he apparently followed her here through sheer force of will.'

Wish I'd known that was possible . . .

'But fear not. No harm will come to you. He is no match for your power.'

'My power?' Riku repeated sceptically. He couldn't even fend off the witch's power, and the roar had been full of power, of hatred, of want.

'Yes, the untapped power that lies within you,' answered Maleficent, eyes gleaming. 'Now, child, it's time you awakened that power, and realised your full potential.'

A strange green aura surrounded Riku's body; he raised his hands to look at it. With a start, he realised just what was happening to him—again!—and threw his arms to either side. 'No!' I won't let her influence me more. I won't

The green dissipated almost immediately, and he glared defiantly into Maleficent's harsh eyes. 'I won't be your tool any more. I know where Kairi is, and where her heart resides. I don't need your false promises any more!'

Everything returned to darkness.

Riku found himself staring directly into Hyite's red-black eyes, the other man standing with a smirk on his face. 'Memories are often not as harmless as they seem,' he said, gesturing to the rolling waves. 'One more, I think, and we shall allow you to take the final challenges.'

Before Riku could reply—he didn't want to see another painful memory—their surroundings swirled once more, transporting them to a very familiar place—the doors of Kingdom Hearts. Sora and his two companions were pushing at the doors of Kingdom Hearts with all their might, but nothing was happening. 'Hurry!' squawked the fowl, looking at Sora, who had almost stopped.

'I can't . . .' the brunet gasped, squeezing his eyes shut in horror.

'Don't give up!' Riku whispered, as another, gloved, hand curled around the edge of the door. He didn't have to look to know it was him again, with a sad smile on his face as he decided his fate. He would be staying inside Kingdom Hearts, the ultimate Hell, to repent for his choices. It was a punishment he'd brought upon himself.

'Come on, Sora!' Riku's younger form pressed, a cheeriness that sounded all too false. 'Together, we can do it!'

There was a moment of silence before Sora's voice came through, agreeing. The doors of Kingdom Hearts slid, slowly, slowly, King Mickey and Sora locking the doors for all eternity. Riku felt a cold weight lowering itself onto his shoulders: the weight of Kingdom Hearts. The weight of everything that had happened and was to happen in the future. It was all-encompassing, overwhelming him. Riku closed his eyes momentarily, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Although he was not the one inside, he could still feel the shadows attacking, each trying to seize his heart for itself. The only beam of light in the otherwise bleak landscape.

'You have seen your past actions, particularly those which changed your life the most,' intoned Hyite, waving a hand across Riku's vision. Their surroundings stilled as Sora ran down the path toward Kairi, fading away into darkness, until at last the waters they presided over had ceased movement entirely. 'You know now the consequences your actions have caused.

'But what will you choose the second time around?'

Riku only caught the tail end of the man's question—'second time around?'—for the waters before him suddenly splashed upwards, rebelling their two dark masters. Again, Riku could see what should have been eclipsed by the darkness, see the bone-crushing of the waves towering horrifyingly—but somehow, simultaneously beautifully—eerily overhead.

Riku found he was frozen in his place, watching the terrifying power descending upon him. He felt a flash of heat and Hyite's body was gone, an unbidden expression of luck wished to Riku in his wake.

And then the inky waters were upon him, pounding down in a roar so loud it would have woken Hades (and as it was, the girl outside the giant tree raised her head from her work to stare at the tree). Riku was flipped head-over-heels so many times he didn't know which way was up. But of course, he would have had no time to consider this, seeing as he was rather trying to allow himself a breath of air. He finally stopped, pausing in the tumultuous waters and allowing himself to float upward. He wasn't about to drown, dammit!

His head broke the surface with a gasp, immediately drawing in that blessed air. But another wave overswept Riku, the sea claiming the boy as its own once more. Riku, however, wasn't going to allow that to happen, and so he battled his way to the surface once more.

This continued for what seemed like an eternity, the frantic battle between boy and water, until the water finally receded, sending the boy tumbling forward, pitching forward to lie half-in and half-out of the water, face almost buried in what seemed to be earth.

Riku remained face-down in the ground, breathing shallowly, water dripping slowly off his silver hair, trickling down his collar. A breeze swept by, a cold, howling wind that sent a chill down his spine. He pulled his knees to his chest for a moment, rubbing his arms before climbing to his feet, looking around into the darkness to see what was there. 'Hyite?' he called cautiously. He didn't especially like the man, but it seemed as though he was the only way out of this. 'Are you there?'

When there was no reply he sighed, shoulders and head drooping momentarily. Then he straightened, picking a direction at random and starting to walk.

No, not that way!

Riku swung around at the sound of the voice, looking for its owner. 'Hmm?'

Over here!

The sound of bells reached his ears, and with it, a giggle. 'Hereherehereherehere!' crowed a voice, quietly, as though far away. Riku's eyebrows furrowed—he'd never heard such a voice; so wanton, so flamboyant—but he followed the voice anyways, until he caught sight of something that made him stop dead in his tracks. In front of him was a pair of doors—a pair of grey doors he'd hoped he'd seen the last of.

The doors to Kingdom Hearts.

And worse still, the doors were open, although he saw figures beyond.

All thoughts forgotten, Riku sprinted ahead, leaping in graceful strides over the shadows that loitered all over the ground, quickly picking his way between them thanks to all the practise he'd gotten while trapped within Kingdom Hearts.

'Hurry!' cried two voices, voices he recognised. Sora's white glove appeared at the side of the door as he rested his hand on it, trying futilely to shove the door closed.

'I can't . . .' the younger boy whispered, leaning his head against the frame.

'Don't give up!' Riku encouraged. After all, he'd done it once before; he could surely close the doors again, couldn't he? A part of his mind was experiencing déjà vu, but he squashed the notion as Sora looked up suddenly, blue eyes lighting up at the sight of Riku.

He looked young. Riku noted how short the other boy was, how the baby hairs on his face glistened white as a light shone from an unknown source. He looked just as he did at fourteen.

Then . . . this isn't real?

'Come on, Sora!' Riku continued, battling that part of his mind that told him this was just a memory. He had to get Sora to close the doors, no matter whether it was reality or not! 'Together, we can do it!'

Yes. Together, they could close the doors—and together, they could either decimate the Heartless that preyed on the world, or the Heartless gnawing on his soul, destroying him from the inside out.

Sora stared into his eyes for a moment, perhaps spying Riku's resolve there before nodding once, throwing his weight against the door. And then he stopped, drawing back. 'Come on, Riku! Come out!' he pleaded, reaching out a hand, reaching past the barrier of the door to touch Riku's arm.

Riku recoiled as the fingers touched. Sora's eyes went wide with shock, and Riku looked away. He didn't know what to do. On one hand, he was being offered the choice to save himself from the torture he would go through inside Kingdom Hearts—but on the other hand, Riku knew that he would feel the guilt if he didn't stay. Then again, he hadn't yet managed to quell that feeling of guilt, even after remaining inside Kingdom Hearts.

A nearby shadow sunk its claws into his leg; Riku winced in pain, trying to shake it off. He couldn't. Another shadow joined him, and then another, until Riku finally pulled them all off, unable to stop a cry of pain every once in awhile, as a particularly jagged claw stuck in his skin, and hurled them away.

Riku shook his head as he turned back, then reached out to Sora, who still stood with his hand outstretched. He had made his decision. Taking Sora's hand into his own, Riku whispered, 'I can't.'

'What do you mean, you can't?' cried Sora. 'You've got to come back! Everyone . . . do you know what this will do to the islands? To your parents? To me, and even to Kairi?'

Riku winced. Yes, he knew. Ficre knew he knew. 'I have something I have to do,' he croaked, throat suddenly try and tears burning at his eyes (but how could he cry? He couldn't show such weakness to Sora!) 'I don't expect you to understand, but it's . . . it's important, Sora. It's so important . . .'

Sora made as if to argue, but Riku looked away, waiting until the younger boy's rant had subsided before speaking again. 'I know. I know more than you could possibly believe about what's going to happen. But I also know that I've got to stay here.'

'But we don—' Sora started to protest. Riku merely smiled weakly.

'I know you don't. But I do. I blame myself. There are just so many things I should have done that I didn't—so many things I should have done differently. So many choices I should have reversed . . . Sora, even if I didn't feel like that, I would stay. And I don't expect you to understand it, or anyone else, for that matter. But trust me.'

Riku smiled once more, grabbing the outside of the door and pulling inwards. He pulled his hands back through as the gap finally became too small for him to help, and as Sora looked up at him one last time, he made sure he was smiling—albeit a feeble, weary smile.

It was so much harder the second time. Riku turned from the door, leaning against it and running a hand through his hair. This time, he knew just how everyone would react. He knew that Kairi would end up on Destiny Islands alone. He knew where Sora would go; he knew about Naminé. He knew about the choices in his future, but it almost made him smile.

Maybe this time he could make better decisions?

It was a thin ray of hope; one Riku clung to as he made his way from the door, into the hoards of Heartless. They surged toward him at first, attempting to attack his seemingly defenceless body, but got a surprise when the Wingblade ripped through them, rending shadow-flesh into uneven pieces. Riku danced a dance of death amongst them, a new, unbound vigour fuelling his frantic fighting. A shadow was set alight, thanks to a Fire spell that flamed from his blade, incinerating itself and several other nearby shadows. The light that resulted from this lit up the surrounding areas, although admittedly, it wasn't enough for Riku to see details. He paused in his fighting, summoning a shield around himself that caused all Heartless that touched it to disintegrate, and then he set off, walking as though in a trance from the rest of the still-hungering shadows.

It was a little under an hour later that found Riku working up a small sweat, due in part mostly to the unbearable humidity that now pressed down on him. His shirt was sticking to his skin; his hair hung about his face in damp, straggling clumps; the Wingblade had long since been put away. He wasn't quite sure when the air had begun changing, but now it made him uneasy. It was clear that he wasn't still in Kingdom Hearts.

And then he heard the voices. The first he'd heard since shutting the doors to Kingdom Hearts for the second time, they put a quicker pace into his step. 'They'll be killed!' cried one voice, somewhat helplessly.

'But what can we do?' another asked. 'I don't know.'

'We've got to do something,' pleaded Sora's voice. 'Anything!'

Just hearing the anxiety in the three's voices caused Riku to hasten his pace again, until he was almost running. The sounds of flames were beginning to reach his ears again, the sounds of flames cracking and snapping, consuming their fuel. Riku wasn't sure he wanted to know what the fuel was.

He ran through the woods, paying no heed to the branches that clawed at his face. One particularly thorny branch left several marks across his face, but he couldn't feel the pain as he raced onwards, finally breaking out into a clearing.

The fire that had consumed his house earlier was back; he could even see himself on the other side of the clearing for a moment, screaming in panic, 'Screams will be ended, my challenge to start. Courage to help me, go to the first part!' and then disappearing as darkness descended upon all of them.

Meanwhile, time was moving. The debris that had been so near his head earlier grashed to the ground; a loud rumbling signified that something was about to happen. Riku let out a shout, rushing forward, this time unhindered by hands from behind. There was a muted flash of light, and the Wingblade appeared in his hand, pointing at the wall before him. Riku looked at it for a moment, pondering his spells, but before he could do anything, the roof of the house collapsed—to a pair of screams from inside. He heard sobbing, sobbing he shouldn't have been able to hear, and then silence, a dark note on the piano drawn out til its extent.

Riku stopped in his tracks, staring forlornly at the house. . . . It was over. The roof had fallen, and was resting on the piano. What could he do? If he went inside . . . he would have to face up to what had been going on. Images flashed through his head quicker than Selphie could pounce upon a group of boys; images of what he might find inside.

Two twisted bodies, mouths open in silent screams. The flesh burnt from their skulls, which almost shone a dark, charred black from amidst the rubble. The feeling of the screams that had filled the air, the agony that had preluded the deaths.

And the agony over the fact that they hadn't swam. For some reason, this scared Riku the most: the prospect of having to find Kairi's spirit and explain what had happened, to have to explain why he was still alive when she had died.

He imagined the looks on everyone's faces. They would despise him, he knew, because Kairi had died because of him. He couldn't do it. He couldn't take that again.

Riku shivered, looking at the house, looking at the flames that had done their work, which now burned merrily atop a mere four feet of rubble. He looked, scrying each nook carefully for the trickle of silver spirit that would alert him to Kairi's presence.

I hate you, Riku.

The voice wound slowly through Riku's head, a small breeze wafting around him slowly. You let me die, Riku. All alone, inside the house. I went in because I thought you were there. I don't care about dying, if it means we'll be together. But you left me for dead, didn't you! You left me to die in the house, and you're out here! How could you? I thought it was true, Riku . . . but maybe Sora was right. Maybe my love would have been better received by him . . .

Riku shook his head, closing his eyes. 'No . . .' he tried to say, but the words were caught in his throat, though they were struggling to be let loose. 'No . . .'

His fists clenched as the winds picked up, bringing the scent of sharp cinders to his nose. He saw light dancing before his closed eyelids, but it didn't occur to him to look and see what it was. All that mattered was the accusations that were being thrown at him, those accusations of leaving Kairi to die alone. He wouldn't have done that, Riku tried to reason. He knew that no matter what had happened, he wouldn't leave her! But her voice was so terribly cold, each word, each sentence like a knife across his skin, searing pain cutting through his heart. Riku turned, setting one foot on the muddy ground firmly, and then the next, determined to get as far away from the destruction as he could. He kept his eyes closed, as though if he didn't see where he was going, it wouldn't be leaving Kairi behind. Tears pricked at his eyelids, but he didn't even raise a hand to wipe them away, running as fast as he could from the accusations. From what had all been his fault—

'Hey, Riku?'

Although the voice was quiet, Riku jumped, then immediately cursed for doing so, stopping short. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned, opening his eyes to see unruly brown spikes dancing before his eyes, the owner of these spikes not quite tall enough to see eye-to-eye with the silver-haired boy. 'I know you don't want to do this any more than I do,' said Sora slowly, looking up at him with pain-filled eyes, 'but it's time to go inside.'

Riku drifted after Sora slowly, looking around—when had it become daytime? And high noon, at that?—at the destruction. It hadn't quite reached his clove, although many leaves on the far sides of the trees had been singed. However, where his house had been, there was merely a pile of blackened, charred firewood. The remains of his house (and again Riku wondered, had he gotten turned around whilst running?).

Riku stifled a cry, thrusting a gloved fist into his mouth to quiet the sound. It wouldn't have mattered even if he had, though; nearly everyone at the site was attempting to hold back his or her own tears. It would be considered unnatural if he didn't seem so distraught.

He followed Sora to where two other men were waiting: one, Satri, young, though quite wise, and the other, Diseke, an old man, face and hands wrinkled with superfluous skin. 'I hate to have to do this to you boys,' said Diseke, voice hushed, 'but if we wait any longer, there won't be a chance. Is this—' and here he swallowed hard, as though he had to force the words out (which, Riku thought, he probably had) '—is this Kairi?'

They stepped aside, pulling a wet cloth from the body. Riku heard Sora gasp beside him, and he himself was hard-put not to do anything. The girl was Kairi, and yet . . . it wasn't. It was Kairi in body, although Riku wasn't quite sure how he knew. The body was merely a darkened corpse, charred so badly Riku was almost afraid it would turn to ashes if he were to touch it.

'It's Kairi,' murmured both boys at once, looking up and meeting each other's eyes, then looking away despondently.

Diseke sighed, then nodded. 'I feared so.' He swept the cloth over the body once more, then looked up at them. 'And now the question arises: What shall we do? I can arrange for the Last Rites to be performed, and—'

'No.'

'Hmm?'

'No,' Riku repeated firmly, staring down at the floor as his hands balled into fists. It was his fault that Kairi had died. He wasn't going to allow her to be disrespected in death. 'There's another option. The Via—' he swallowed hard; his throat didn't seem to want to form around the words, '—the Via ri Mori.'

Diseke shook his head, somehow looking down the bridge of his nose at Riku. 'My dear boy, I know how you felt for the lady,' he said, voice suddenly taking on a very parental tone, 'but I cannot allow you to do this.'

Riku kept his gaze level. 'Fine,' he replied simply. 'I can do the deed without your consent. Kairi does not deserve some mediocre Rite; she deserves to swim like the rest of us. I will swim the Via ri Mori, whether with the blessings of my people or not.'

Satri nodded approvingly. Sora, on the other hand, was looking conflicted. 'Riku . . .' he murmured. 'I can't let you do that. You're my friend! You have things to do in life. Let me . . .'

'No,' insisted Riku. 'I am going to do it. And I don't want to hear any arguments over it. Sora,' he continued, cutting off the younger boy, 'you have things to do in life still, same as I do. But your deeds are more important, whether or not you believe it. Perhaps . . . perhaps for me, the Via is a fitting end.' He smiled then, a smile full of regret, though it lacked the despair and loathing one would have thought it contain.

He didn't wait for an answer. He picked up Kairi's frail form—sheets and all—and strode out the door, through the small stretch of sand until he was waist deep into the ocean. And here he paused, pulling the sheet from her body again and setting it adrift, watching the thin material sailing across the water.

Riku held Kairi to his chest with one arm, cursing as he tried to manoeuvre with the weight of another body. He had only to make it to the undertow . . .

The sun beat down upon the back of his neck, but he continued on, finally settling into a stroke that cut through the water. He heard murmurs behind him, heard his name shouted several times, but he didn't look back. He merely continued with his strong stroke.

He never knew how long he swam—at times it felt like hours, and at times he felt like he could swim forever, that he had only just begun. All he knew was that before he was ready for it, he began to feel the undertow pulling at his body, threatening to pull him into its depths, pulling him to a watery grave, to join with the hundreds of other bodies below. He stopped swimming, instead hugging Kairi's body to him and burying his head into her neck. He would tread water here, until the last remains of his strength was gone and he sank below the surface for the last time, drowning. Both he and the girl he loved would join the masses beneath the clear waters. It both consoled and frightened him.

Riku didn't look around; he kept his face hidden, finally allowing himself the sob that had been threatening to break out the entire time he'd been on the islands. He felt warm tears trickling over his cheekbones, a sharp contrast to the cold water; a hand raised momentarily to touch them in wonder. He hadn't cried in . . . well, in ages, though he might have felt the need to.

It was a long while before he finally lost his last reserves of strength. He still heard the cries from the shore, though he could no longer make out the words, which seemed to intensify as he slipped under once. And then he was beneath the waves again, in that remote world where words are silenced. He was falling, falling toward his newfound grave . . .

But no.

No; he could not die here. Riku felt his fall through the water slow. His body was uprighted as Kairi's weight dissipated, dissolving from his arms. He again touched down on a new surface easily, and his eyes opened to the sight of a wooden door—the twin of the one he'd entered. The doorknob was in the same place as before, and it was still slightly ajar—and creaking outwards as he stepped forwards, peering at the door. What's going on? wondered Riku, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Riku quickened his pace, somehow needing to reach the door . . .

The door burst open.

Light flooded Riku's vision; he felt himself being welcomed into its warm embrace. What is the sin? asked a voice, a gentle, calming voice. It was that of a woman, and Riku almost felt as though he were speaking to Ficre herself.

He concentrated, but upon looking at his challenges, he could note his failure. Inaudax, he answered slowly. I lack strength in myself. And in my decisions, as well.

He felt someone smiling at him; he knew he was correct. Very good. Continue in this manner, and you may very well find yourself changing in ways you never imagined.

He closed his eyes, smiling to himself as the voice—and with it, the warmth—receded. There were several minutes of silence, during which Riku cleared his mind, attempting to purge it of all that had just occurred. And when this was done, he opened his eyes again, finding himself in that same circle of doors.

Now, he did not hesitate. He strode directly to the door to the left of his first choice, pausing only to admire the small sword etched into the door he'd entered prior.

The wooden door swung shut behind him.

3 — .c.o.w.a.r.d.i.c.e. — 3