Chapter three:
She Froze the Dance

"Demyx?" Raxet scared the boy, who had been scribbling something on what appeared to be almost-blank sheet music. He jumped, then scooped his papers up possessively, opening a hatch in the side of his sitar and hiding them quickly.

"Raxet! I…didn't hear you coming!" He was blushing, and looked aside nervously, as if he didn't want to meet her eyes.

"I didn't mean to sneak up on you," She apologized. "What were you doing?"

"…nothing." He shrugged, pulling his sitar back into his lap and motioning for her to take a seat next to him. She waved his offer aside.

"So you're not busy, then?"

"Not really," He answered. "What…er…what do you need?" He looked up, still not meeting her eyes. "I heard about yesterday—how you almost Faded. Are you alright?"

"Fine." She waved that aside, too. "It was a lesson of inexperience. I need a favor."

"Sure," He smiled good-naturedly. "Anything!"

"I need a sparring partner." She watched his face not only fall, but blanch. "Is that a problem?" She asked, concerned.

"No, no…I just…I'm not very good."

"Naminé told me you were excellent—just shy. I thought we could both benefit."

"I'm not…" He trailed off. He was…he could be considered shy. Color returned to his face, reddening his cheeks again. "What…did you have in mind?"

"Spar with me," She told him again with a grin. "Just let me see what you can do."

"You're excellent, though! You weren't even trying with Axel yesterday! It showed—" he stuttered nervously.

"I could improve. So can you. Please, Demyx! It's important!" She made him look her in the eye, his anxious, watery gaze frozen in her own confident ice.

"I….I….I….er…alright…I guess…."

Raxet clapped her hands girlishly. "Thank you Demyx!" He smiled shyly, glad to have pleased her, even if it had made him uncomfortable. She grabbed his hands, pulling him up.

"Right now?" He asked, not resisting and yet sounding hesitant.

"Do you mind? I thought you weren't busy?"

"I'm not…" He looked at his sitar, then slung it on his back. "…um…here?"

"No, silly! We'd damage the upholstery. Open a door—we can fight out in the worlds."

"er…like where?"

"It doesn't matter." Raxet was still smiling, hiding the fact that she didn't know any of the worlds.

"Er….I guess…we could see if the Coliseum is open. I hear Hercules is using it a lot lately, but…er…..we could probably borrow it for a while…"

"Excellent!" Raxet put her hands on her hips, watching him.

"But…bu…alright…" Demyx smiled, folding at last, reaching behind him to open a door-to-darkness. He held his hand in it, and waved her though. She tried not to appear timid, hesitating only a moment before stepping boldly through. Demyx followed, closing the door behind them.

Raxet looked around. The place was completely unfamiliar. She didn't approve of the decorator at all. It was lots of sand and debris—what had happened here? She coughed—the dust was still trying to settle. It smelled like blood. Raxet wrinkled her nose.

"The Keyblade Bearer has been here." Demyx told her, drawing closer to her, subconsciously protective. "It's not safe."

"Nonsense!" She waved him off. "It looks to me as though it's been abandoned."

"…." Demyx continued to peer around, "Maybe. I think…most people went to the Underworld Arena."

"Underworld--?"

"Er…it's sort of like this, only more dangerous…and…not busted up."

"So we should fight there?"

"No! It's a dangerous place for anybody but Hades—the owner."

"….." Raxet brushed dust off her cloak. "We can't fight here."

"….I…er….Alright, come on. I know another place in the Underworld we can go."

"Yes!" Raxet grinned, wrapping her fingers up in her whip.

Demyx opened another door, which seemed to lead into a misty, blue-hued, dark place. Raxet stepped smartly through, Demyx following again. They were in a cave-like spot, with walls that rose to forever above them, and a circular floor that was impossibly smooth.

Raxet pulled out her scimitars, leaving her whip bound at her side.

"Now, Demyx?"

"Hold on!" Demyx tossed her something. She caught it clumsily, having to juggle swords to free her hand. "Don't go anywhere in the Underworld without that."

"Why not?" Raxet examined the strange object—a circular pendant, engraved with a lightning bolt. She slid it into her cloak pocket. It was heavy, and beat against her thigh when she moved.

"Just don't. Keep it for me, will you? My pockets are full."

"Er…alright. Can we fight now?"

"Yeah. Come on." He braced himself as she approached, her blades swinging. He struck a chord on his Sitar, and a water figure appeared murkily behind her, pulling at her hood.

"Hey!" She swung around, slicing through it, causing it to disappear. It was replaced by dozens. "Doppelgangers?" She looked over her shoulder at Demyx, who was plucking nimbly at the strings of the sitar, "Sweet."

She held up the blade of her left scimitar, blowing on it. A thin sheet of ice formed along the metal, and she pivoted to stick it in the midst of the dancing doppelgangers. The ice spread among them, freezing their motion, though the water within them struggled desperately beneath the thick icy exterior.

Then she turned to Demyx. She scored twice, once with each blade, and deeply. She gaped, pulling back, thinking he would have blocked. He raised his sitar to strike her, and was somehow faster, though she tried to dodge. But his weapon passed right through her. She scrambled back awkwardly, putting her scimitars away.

Demyx collapsed, clutching at his wounds, which closed up quickly, but left him weakened.

"Demyx!" Raxet knelt next to him, appalled. "What—why didn't you block!"

"I did." He muttered, forcing himself to his feet, chivalrously offering her a hand. "But…I told you it was dangerous down here! The normal rules don't apply…" He winced as she prodded his side experimentally.

"Dammit I'm sorry!" She was genuinely upset, biting her lip so hard as to turn the skin white.

"It's alright—I'm not dead…" he began, suddenly stopping, whirling around to peer at down a long corridor that snaked off from behind a large pile of conveniently placed rocks. "Give me the stone back," He held his hand out behind him. "Then go back to the Castle." Raxet complied, handing him the stone without complaint.

"Um…why?"

"Just go."
"Demyx…." She bit her lip again. "I…er…I can't open a door." He turned to look at her, agape.

"…really?"

"Why would I lie about being lame?" She snapped.

"It's not lame. It's a good thing, actually. Here," He produced the door for her, keeping it open with his foot. "Hurry, alright? Tell Xemnas that Sora's in the Underworld."

"Sora?" She asked, "Who's—"
"Hey!" A deep gravelly voice drifted down the hall, "I heard something over here!"

"Auron? Down there?" A higher pitched voice—the voice of an adolescent boy—asked, sounding exasperated.

"A-hyuk…must be…looks kinda scary, doncha know…" and what the crap? Who talked like THAT?

"Go!" Demyx gave Raxet a small shove, pushing her through the door and then removing his foot.

Raxet stumbled, trying to regain her balance. Xemnas caught her gently, steadying her, and looking down with an odd expression. "Where have you been?" He asked, his voice soft. She met his gaze, and her chest throbbed. Something tickled in the back of her head.

"Sora's reached the Underworld." She told him, her voice shaking. Something felt wrong, and she didn't know why.