Copyright notice: Wouldn't it be nice if Disney and Squaresoft just gave up their proprietary rights for "Kingdom Hearts?" Just hand it over to public domain? Wouldn't it just be really nice to not have to write one of these disclaimers for once, explaining that we, the authors, the fans, don't own anything that we've labored upon? Just a thought…
Chapter 3
The boy with the silver hair kept his bored gaze evenly on Beast. He leaned lightly on a curved scimitar, showing no consideration for the power it could wield, silver hair wisping around his face in the mist from the rising waterfalls.
The arrogance.
The arrogance.
It sickened him.
The superiority, the total self-control, the unspoken condescension…with an uncomfortable knock of realization, Beast felt like he was looking in a mirror.
Well, a mirror from a long time ago. The time when mirrors were allowed in the castle, when they were needed to preen. As opposed to now, when the remnants of mirrors just taunted their fractured reflections in silence. Before this creature took over his body.
All for a dismissed rose.
Still…
The boy clearly felt he had an advantage over Beast. And as long as he believed that, Beast might as well find out why. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice rumbling above the resonance of the falls.
Grinning, the boy cocked his head to the side. "Does it matter?"
"If you know where Belle is, then yes."
"Who's Belle?"
"Don't lie to me, boy."
"What she worth to you, then?"
"Much more than your life."
"And yours as well?"
There was no hesitation: "Yes."
"Obviously, if you're here." A mild curiosity crept into the otherwise languid drawl. "No vessel, no help from the Heartless... so tell me, how'd you get here?"
Vessel?
Heartless?
What nonsense was this?
Did he mean the shadow-demons? Where they the Heartless? And what sort of vessel could have possibly born him on this journey, short of the skiff Charon navigated through the murk of the Styx?
With a gleeful smirk, the boy chuckled at Beast's obvious confusion. "You really don't have a clue what's going on, do you?"
"Shut up," Beast growled, itching to throttle that weak little neck and barely reigning in his bewildered fury.
"But then I couldn't tell you, you know. Let you in on the little secret why your girlfriend's so important. So I'll just go ahead, mind my own business…"
All the hopelessness, sorrow, and confusion Beast had felt over the last day raged through his voice as he howled, "Where's Belle?"
"Why do you even think she's here?"
His voice barely audible above the falls, Beast said, "When our world fell into darkness, Belle was taken from me. I vowed I would find her again no matter what the cost. I believed I would find her. So, here I am. She must be here. I will have her back!"
The boy offered all the verification Beast needed: "Take her if you can."
Beast needed no further invitation.
With a lunge and a roar, he hurled himself at the fiend, the antagonizer, the child.
And the saber slit neatly through his ribcage…
The wolves.
The wolves were howling all around him, tearing, slashing, ripping.
They would kill him if they continued.
But he had to keep them away.
Away from Belle.
Belle.
He had to find Belle.
She was here, somewhere in this damnable…
Inferno.
Dante.
Belle was reading Dante in the library.
He caught a glimpse of her face as he walked past the doorway, then stopped, turned back, looking in on her. She sat in the high-backed chair by the fireplace, legs tucked delicately under burgundy skirts. Her brows knit together in consternation as she read the pages of a thick tome, a single lock of hair falling over intense eyes.
She was so beautiful.
He must have been standing there too long; she blinked several times as though waking, then turned her head. The warmth of her smile beckoned him inside as he paced forward. "I don't want to disturb you," he said, pulling up another chair aside hers.
"Don't worry, you aren't." Keeping the pages of the book opened, she placed it on a small marble-top stand next to the chair. "I could use a little break from that."
"What is it?"
"Dante's 'Divine Comedy.'" Her smile faltered slightly. "Which actually isn't a comedy, nor remotely amusing."
"Why not?"
A pause snuck into her response. "Maybe it will get better- I'm only on the first part right now. I just don't think that the suffering of those in hell terribly entertaining, even if it is just a story."
Puzzled, he asked, "Then why are you reading it if you don't like it?"
A small shrug. "A tutor once told me it was the greatest poem ever written, but we never got a chance to study it. I thought now might be a good chance to, since I have a lot of time…" Her voice trailed as she realized her unintentional jab at her captivity. Yet she plunged ahead with her analysis, and he listened to every word, each syllable the gentle musings of grace to his corrupted ears.
Halfway through her synopsis, he interrupted her. "What if they deserved it?"
"What?"
"Well, they're there for a reason, aren't they?"
"That's not something to be laughed at, then, as a 'comedy' might suggest. It means that someone refused redemption and caused a terrible amount of pain to others."
"So do you think everyone's redeemable?"
"If they want to be, yes."
It was out of his mouth before he even knew what he was saying. "Even monsters?"
And she looked at him, truly looked at him for perhaps the first time since he'd shown her the library. She offered him a ghost of a smile, devoid of pity but full of sympathy and in her eyes swirled just the barest gleamings of understanding. "Even monsters."
He loved her.
It was that simple.
He loved her.
He wanted to bellow it through the castle rafters and whisper it into her ears. He wanted to beg her forgiveness and simultaneously laugh at the Enchantress' s thwarted curse. And he wanted to hold her with hands that could touch her without the risk of crushing her.
And he would.
In time.
There was no more time.
The rose was gone.
…riku…
Lost into oblivion.
…stop…what's the matter with you…
The darkness that consumed all.
…there can't be two Keyblade masters…
Just withered petals.
…you were just the delivery boy…
And no hope.
…sora, your part's over now. go play hero with this…
The voices brought him back.
He was still alive.
Alive and in agonizing pain, he realized as he tried to move up from the ground. Fire tore across his chest, throbbing with each beat of his weakening heart. He tasted thick copper and felt his fur matting in the blood pooling beneath him.
But he was still alive.
And every step gained was one closer to Belle.
Beast stood, slowly, achingly, stuffing his fist into the wound to stem the flow of blood. In two steps, he was down on his knees, cursing his futility.
"Hey, don't move. You're hurt."
Another boy, shorter and with kinder eyes came into Beast's focus. Laying a hand on Beast's shoulder, the boy gave him a quick smile. "Here."
Instantly, the pain ceased. Beast stared at the boy in wonderment, the gash vanished save for a faint scar. Absently rubbing his chest as though to prove to himself certain, Beast said, "Thank you."
The boy nodded, then saddened, looking at a wooden sword discarded on the stone below.
Hoping for more luck than previously, Beast prodded, "Who are you?"
"My name's Sora."
"Do you know that other one?"
"Which one?"
There were more? "The one with the silver hair."
"Oh." Melancholy sunk into a voice that had only recently learned what sorrow was. "That's…Riku. I used to know him. I thought."
A friend betrayed then. And now perhaps an ally. "Why did you come here?" Beast asked, for surely something monumental had also brought this child here to the end of all things. When Sora didn't answer, he continued, dangling the offer of an alliance. "I came to fight for Belle. And though I am on my own, I will fight. I won't leave without her. That's why I'm here."
The statement seemed to jolt Sora. Looking up first at Beast, then down at the wooden sword, Sora reached down and grasped the handle, picking it up at staring at the knotted edges. "Me too. I'm not gonna give up now. I came here to find someone very important to me. You ready?"
The newfound determination in Sora's voice heartened Beast. He nodded, flexing his talons as though already sensing the fights to come. And so they began their way to the gates of Hollow Bastion, armed only with a toy sword, sheer will and the faint hope of a just universe where two beacons of light may be allowed to triumph over darkness.
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Author's Note: Yes, I know "The Divine Comedy" isn't really a ha-ha sort of sitcom thing, but a commentary on the times as Dante then allegorically expounded upon. But do you really think Belle would know that? We give her a lot of credit, and she deserves a lot of credit, but not that much.
know that