Chapter 47: He May Be Old, But at Least He's Not Like All Those Other Old Guys
(A/n: This is a joke on myself, considering that I happen to have a crush on Ansem, despite how evil he was in Kingdom Hearts. I greatly admire him, for being able to pull off pants that tight.)

Even though the sun had no welcome, and everyone would have forced its light away into some dark, hidden cavern, until the world was ready to move on again, it came just as it always did, chasing the shadows that had held the remains of the Guado civilization in its inky grip, forcing them to hide behind rubble and plants. It also broke the fragile shell of sleep that everyone had slipped into the previous night, pulling everyone out of their unconscious, unaware state to make them once again open their eyes and remember to breathe on their own, and to put one foot in front of the other. The most intellectual, under such circumstances, seem to be the most in tune with the world around them, and naturally are the first to awaken, and the first to comprehend all these thoughts, perhaps even in the exact same wording, in their minds, while those who are usually teased for their thickness are now coveted for their obliviousness.
Jerdania thought exactly all of that as she sat in the chilled morning air, the only one awake yet of their group, for even Serena and Ansem had at last given into sleep, the former had guiltily crawled into Erik's arms in the night while the latter leaned upright against a large stone block, his eyes closed, his face frowned deep in thought, even in sleep.
Ansem, being a man of deep study and great thought naturally appealed to Jerdania, for she herself worshipped wisdom, always digging into books and adding to her volumes of knowledge. But seeing Ansem was like seeing history at last coming alive, since naturally she had read of the mysterious king of ages long past, the man who was thought of as a patron saint to modern science, for he crossed the boundries of superstition to discover truth, paving the way for open thinking. The great King Ansem de Tenshi II, ruler of the country of Alexandria, which was then considered the capital of rational thought, the very home of wisdom. Ansem's head drooped a bit, and her great idol gave bit of a snore before reaching up and scratching his neck. Wow, almost as amazing as traveling miles to a zoo to see a tiger flopped out in its cage fast asleep, then suddenly sit up and lick its paw before settling again. Hearts fluttered.
Jerdania continued to watch him for a while, soaking in every little detail of the image, imagining him in her mind pouring over books, or dabbling in chemistry. Perhaps there was just the tiniest hint of a crush there as well, since she had once seen a picture of a painting of him in one of her many history books, and she'd instantly declared him to be charmingly handsome. Alright then, so it was full-blown obsession. She was just simply one of those whom nature has hardwired to take brains over brawn, and see to it that in the future, there's still a few geniouses in a world of ditzy blonde cheerleaders and idiot jocks. In her dreamy state, she watched as he slowly came to be awake and aware as she was, and his amber eyes, from which a sharp glint of hidden cynicism was hidden, looked up at her. A single, pale eyebrow arched. His watcher started, blushed madly and stumbled for something to busy herself with. "Breakfast, right. Must cook for everyone..."
Ansem chuckled and shook his head. "You must be terribly nearsighted, to have been staring at me in such a love-struck way, young girl." He mused as he watched her struggle to find something in her backpack, which much to everyone's great relief had survived and been found intact, spices and all.
"N-no..." She groaned and gave up as a tupperware container fell out of her hands onto the ground. "I wasn't staring at you in any way, I just... happened to be glancing at you when you woke up."
"Don't think you can possibly try and fool this old man, I've seen people in love before, I saw my own son have the exact same look in his eyes whenever he met with Shiva, and I had the same look in my own eyes when I first met my late bride."
The words that he said automatically triggered a whole chain of information to pour out of Jerdania's head. "You married the princess of Treno, Celes Valentinas, who was ten years younger than you. She died during the plague that struck your kingdom only thirteen years after you'd married her and assumed the throne. In fact it was her death that plunged you into such deep interest in the sciences, because you didn't believe that the disease was some sort of judgemental wrath on your country, but you believed it was related to the phenomenal number of rats, and you introduced the idea of bringing in a great number of feral cats to counter the rodents..." her voice trailed off as Ansem's eyebrow arched again in stunned amazement.
"You know me almost better than I know myself, child."
Jerdania groaned and hid her face behind her hands. "I've read more books about you than I can count... you're my idol, my hero..." she sniffed. "My nose is bleeding."
Ansem regarded all of this with a quiet, amazed sort of nonchalance. He'd been around the block more than once, and this was just another event in his journey of epic weirdness. "I would hope this stems more from any mark I might have left on the world, and not from anything more personal."
Jerdania looked up at him as she stuffed a shred of tissue paper up her nose to stem the flow of blood. "Are you kidding me? You're an absolute hearthrob! You're handsome in the exact same way as Richard Gere!"
Akward silence. Ansem blushed rather becomingly, and Jerdania paled. "Thank you?"
"...Breakfast..." She started pulling things out of her bag again, and retrieved a baggie of eggs and a frying pan. "Scrambled okay?"
Epic journey of weirdness indeed, even after two years he hadn't been let down yet. Still, it would be something to make note of in his journal that evening. When everything around you is utter mania, and you're the only sane person to be seen for miles around, you start wondering if the problem doesn't lie in your surroundings, but if there's something wrong with you.
Jerdania arranged a mess of twigs and dry leaves where last night's fire had been, and she pulled out a matchbox from which she drew a single match, and struck it against the side of the box with such force that it simply snapped in half. No, he had yet to really indulge the thought that he might be the only crazy person. He quietly leaned forward where he sat and pulled off one of his long white gloves, then held his hand out with his palm upwards, and pulled out a long twig from the small pile of kindling that Jerdania had assembled. With little effort of any kind that anyone could have percieved, a great deal of heat rapidly built up in his hand until a flame appeared, and he lit the end of the twig, then used it to set fire to the rest of the kindling. "Magic is very useful, if you know how to harness it." He said as he smiled at her astonished face.
"Black magic was banned almost fifty years ago." Jerdania finally managed to say.
However, Ansem wasn't given a chance to respond as a few of the sleeping teenagers at last showed signs of life, sitting up and quietly recalling last night's events to mind. Irvine smiled a little at the sight of Jerdania already up and dutifully cooking something for the group to eat, wondering how on earth she could handle herself so well after something so bad had happened. "I don't think we'll have time to eat, Jer, Cid said he'd be here early."
"How early?"
"Like, in five minutes, I think. I'd worry more about gathering whatever stuff we still have together."
And thus five minutes did pass, with the adventurers moseying about, gathering their things together with all the energy and excitement of a lot of hung-over college students packing to leave Cancun. The mood was sour, as was their stomachs at the sight of Riku's sleeping bag, sealed tight with his body inside. Soon the heavily forested, yet eerily silent valley began to echo with the droning whine of an airship approaching. The whine grew much louder, and the walkie-talkie-like device that Sora had recieved from one of the Cids gave a loud electronic chirp.
"Hello!" Cid Highwind's gruff voice barked.
Sora fumbled with the walkie-talkie for a moment, then finally pushed a button and spoke into the reciever, "Yeah, what's up?"
"I can't even see where the hell all you kids are at, the forest is too damn thick..."
"Um... there's a bunch of dust in the air, so we can't really see too well either."
"Ah, so that's where you're at... my god, what did you kids do, go nuts with a pack of dynamite? Anyways, there's a nice big lake maybe half a mile north of where you're at, and I've been itching to try a water landing with this new airship."
"You got another airship?"
"Yup, state of the art, this baby... I wanted to call her Cid's Ridiculously Awesome Powership, but the other Cid said that the ancronym would spell 'Crap', so we settled on Ragnarok."
"Right, we'll head straight there, then."
"Wonderful, a half-mile hike is a wonderful way to start the morning." Kairi moodily grumbled.
But, despite whatever protests they might have had, they were forced to begin rambling through the forest, following Jerdania with her compass and map. The entire forest was silent and dark, matching the mood perfectly. Akirame stayed towards the back of the group, burdened by carrying the sleeping bag with her love and memories wrapped inside with the body, and she seemed ready to cry or scream at any moment. She clung to the lifeless flesh, the shell that had been her friend and the only boy she'd ever kissed. The very least she could do was take it back to Destiny Islands and bury it herself. And yet, the very thought of watching him disappear into the earth didn't feel right, like as if there were something in the back of her mind she was forgetting. The air felt so brittle, it cut right into her chest, making it difficult to take in a deep breath without letting out a whimper. The trail began to steepen, and beyond the trees at the top they could hear the mind-numbing whine of the ship.
The ragnarok was huge, red, and very high-tech looking. It was shaped in a manner like a blood-red Transformer tiger that had swallowed a bomb, which had traveled most of the way through its digestive system and... well, you can imagine for yourself, or at least use Google's handy image search if you're still at a loss.
With a loud hydrolic hiss and the grinding sound of machinery, a large cargo door opened on the underbelly of the ship, and Cid Highwind casually stepped down to survey them. At first he noticed the grubby, miserable look of the teenagers, and noticed one face missing. He opened his mouth, then shut it again when he saw the heavy sleeping bag in Akira's arms. His stomach churned at the mere thought, and the presence of a tall cloaked man and a beautiful, unworldly looking girl wrapped in Irvine's coat didn't put him at ease. "What..." he managed, eyes locked on the cloaked figure, waiting at any moment to see a mint-green glow from under the hood.
"Sin got out, Riku died, Ansem's from another time and his daughter Serena is from the Farplane, that's all." Akirame's voice softly recited, and without even looking up she forced her aching legs to carry her up the metal rampway into the sharp, metallic coldness.
Hyne, they're just kids! Cid thought to himself. What the hell is going on here? If I knew any better, I'd haul these kids back to their parents and let ol' Spikey-head deal with the rest. But this ain't my business, is it? I won't ask 'em any questions, but I'm sure as hell interrogatin' the clown in the hood.
As the small crowd ambled onto the airship like a herd of manic-depressed cattle, Cid closed his eyes and bit down on the cigarette that fit into its dent on his lip. It was actually a very old cigarette, from the very last carton he'd bought before he'd finally decided to quit. It was just the familiarity that he wanted; as a habit, for years he'd always had a cig hanging from his mouth, and with time the dent had formed, and even his teeth had shifted to form a gap around the nicotine-filled rolls of paper. Since when had he even stopped to think so deeply about something that simple about himself? It was as strange as the day he'd found himself scrubbing at his knuckles, trying to get rid of the black residue from grease and oil that had tattooed itself into his knuckles. Maybe he was just getting old, or maybe he was bored. Hmph, what would that spikey-headed idiot had said to all this? A crooked grin settled into the mechanic's gradually aging face. The kid would've worried. Worryin' never did anyone any good. Now Vincent, he would have laughed.
Good grief, how long had he been standing there, just wasting time by thinking? He'd deal with all this serious junk later, and the Ragnarok still had a lot of buttons that hadn't been pushed yet.