'Learning how to be a member of the crew and learning how to be a Keyblade wielder are two equally difficult things.'
Chapter Three: Learning the Ropes
The faint chatter of birds flickered through Skuld's ears. The excited shouts of her friends blended into the noise, transient and song-like; while the words were too blurred for her to understand, the joy shone through, warm and comforting. She wanted to turn, but she knew if she did, they wouldn't be there anymore, and—well. She wanted to prolong this for as long as possible.
(This moment where she was with people she loved. People who loved her. People she couldn't remember but knew were important.)
Someone asked a question. She thought it was directed at her.
"I think I'm going to stay here for a little bit," she answered. Please stay with me, she wanted to say. Please don't leave me alone.
The chatter faded and, for a moment, she thought that her friends had left. Then grass rustled, and someone settled with their back against hers.
Her eyes stung, but she smiled. "I have a name now, you know."
Bright laughter, tingling like a bell and reminding her of Starlight. She thought the person said, "You always had a name."
"But I didn't remember it, before. Now I do." She leaned her head back, resting it against her friend's. "And I have a Keyblade. Did you know it's supposed to be some sort of legendary weapon?"
Her friend hummed quietly, and she couldn't tell if it was a question or an acknowledgement.
"Where are you?" Skuld asked, and something tightened in her throat and chest.
The person shifted. He answered, but she couldn't make out the words.
She laughed bitterly. "Of course."
"You should come back to Radiant Garden," a familiar voice whispered, and the words curled coldly over her shoulder and tightened around her chest. "We were so close to finding answers."
Skuld scrambled to her feet.
Xehanort had his back to her, sitting where her friend had once been.
"No," she said. "No. You don't—you don't get to come into these dreams, too."
Xehanort tilted his head, but didn't look at her. "We were friends, once."
"We weren't. You just tried to make me believe that."
The sky cracked. Dark clouds rolled across the horizon, flickering with streaks of red. No, Skuld thought. No, no, I didn't want— "Why did you have to ruin everything?"
"Because I cared about you."
Skuld lifted her Keyblade. (When had she summoned it?)
Xehanort laughed, loud and harsh. "Alright," he said. "If you truly want me gone—go ahead. Make your strike."
Skuld couldn't move.
Xehanort finally stood and turned to face her. "See? I knew you couldn't forget."
The ground fell out from under her. This time, Skuld didn't even have the presence of mind to try and run.
-Skuld jerked awake. Her limbs flailed, caught in the grasp of something, and she kicked and tugged until the world tumbled over and she hit the ground with a solid thud. She was up again in an instant, Starlight bursting into her palms, bright and steady and safe.
"Hey, who turned the lights on?"
"Come on, man, this is my sleep time."
"Dude, what the hell?"
She didn't know where she was, or who these people were, and it was dark and her thoughts were too close, and and and—
She'd emerged onto the deck before she had the chance to register moving, her hands slamming into the railing, Keyblade thrumming aggressively with her panic.
She was…on a ship. The R.L.S. Legacy. That's what Captain Amelia had called it, when she'd hired her.
("You'll be staying here, in the crew's quarters. We'll officially go over your duties later. For the moment, I suggest you get settled.")
Skuld rested her forehead against the wood. For a few moments she just stood there, breathing in and out. I'm not in a cell anymore, she reminded herself. Xehanort isn't here. I don't have to be anywhere near him ever again.
(Lea and Isa were still back in Radiant Garden, though. With Xehanort.
…She shoved the thought aside.)
Skuld pushed herself back with another deep breath. Starlight's keychain rattled quietly, clacking against her wrist.
Skuld just stared at it for several moments. A legendary weapon. She turned and spun the blade through the air. The movement felt familiar, and she let her body fall into patterns that it seemed to remember, even if her conscious brain couldn't recall them. This is mine. I'm some sort of—of chosen one, or something. Supposedly.
Her foot slid forward. She lifted Starlight into a horizontal position, twisting it carefully between her fingers. A chosen one—someone of legend. Like those stories Lea and Isa told. The old me wouldn't be afraid of Xehanort. Of dreams. Of—of anything the future holds.
Her movements slowed. Starlight dropped to rest by her side. The old me probably wouldn't be scared of going after her friends, if she had a weapon like this.
Starlight was quiet.
Skuld took a deep breath and straightened. I'll just have to be braver. Be stronger. What happened was—that was to Subject X. Someone else. I'm Skuld. I'm a Keyblade wielder. I'm—not that girl anymore.
Her hand shook.
A flash of pink fire flared in the corner of her eye.
Skuld whipped towards it, Starlight snapping upwards.
Nothing stirred.
Skuld let out a long, frustrated breath. Maybe that starts with not being so jumpy.
"I thought I told you to rest?"
Skuld didn't jump this time, but her shoulders did tense. "I couldn't sleep," she murmured.
"And you thought you'd practice on the deck?" Amelia approached her, eyeing her Keyblade critically.
Skuld's face heated, and she ducked her head to try and hide it. "Better than down below."
"I suppose. But you're drawing an audience."
Abruptly, Skuld realized that other members of the crew were still on the deck. Some had stopped what they were doing to openly stare; others were still working, but cast side-eyed glances her way.
"Back to work, the lot of you!" Amelia shouted.
The crew members all jumped into action, some muttering apologies as they went about their day.
"I—I didn't realize people were still up here."
"Someone always needs to be on duty, or else we might stray off course. The crew works in shifts."
"And I'll be the…day shift?"
Amelia gave her an amused smirk. "Well. There really isn't much of a day and night cycle, out here. We have to judge by the position of the stars."
Skuld swallowed and nodded.
Amelia looked like she wanted to say something more, then faltered. She gave one final glance to Skuld's Keyblade, then sighed, stepping back. "Get some rest," she advised. "Meditate if you can't sleep. It'll be better for you."
Skuld wasn't sure she wanted to be left alone with her thoughts, but she nodded, anyways.
Amelia turned away, heading towards the helm.
Starlight disappeared in a burst of sparks, and for a few moments Skuld just stood there, feeling as adrift in space as the ship she was on. After a few moments she stepped back, trying to focus less on her thoughts and more on the world around her.
The idea that they were really traveling the cosmos had seemed mind-boggling, at first. She hadn't taken the time to really look before, too busy trying to grapple with the sudden, unexpected implications of the weapon she wielded. Now, her eyes flicked across the railing, trying to capture an image of the vibrant sky-scape that stretched out before her. Distant stars speckled the darkness, gleaming brightly enough to illuminate faint bits of debris. Pieces of rock floated like islands a short distance away, shapes slipping between them, too dark to make out. Splotches of color, purple and blue and pink, wove seamlessly through the black and made something in her throat catch.
Lea and Isa had talked to her about this, a little, when they'd visited her cell; she hadn't known what to make of it, then.
("There are lots of stars. And the moon. And—oh, yeah! Different worlds!"
"Different…worlds?"
"Planets," Isa corrected, giving Lea a fondly-exasperated look. "They're called planets, Lea."
"Yeah, yeah, same difference."
"What are they?"
"Oh. Well, uh. They're kind of…big rocks?"
Isa rolled his eyes. "Other people live on them. Or, that's what the scholars say. They don't all look like us, but they all have hearts.")
Skuld swallowed back regret. Maybe one day, Lea and Isa will get to see this, too.
…Maybe one day, after I've remembered who I am, I'll be strong enough to go back and see them.
-The ship rocked. Skuld stirred slightly, thoughts fuzzy. Hazy images flickered across her eyes, and she blinked them away with a groan, head bobbing.
Dull pain flashed through the back of her skull, and she jolted awake, scrambling upright.
A couple of crew members stopped what they were doing to give her searching looks.
Skuld waved uncertainly.
Quiet grumbles came from the nearest individuals, and slowly the crew went back into motion, leaving Skuld mostly ignored in her corner of the ship.
Her fingers flexed, jittery against her legs. She thought she was supposed to do something, but she didn't know what. Her fingers flicked her jacket's zipper, the quiet clink-clink of the movement almost indiscernible over the activity on the deck. Her eyes flitted about, nervously bouncing from one place to the next as she tried to figure out where she was supposed to be.
A couple workers cast veiled looks her way, and her skin prickled with the attention. It's just because you aren't doing anything. They aren't—they aren't threats. They're part of the crew. You can trust them.
Skuld took a deep breath and forced herself forward.
The crew members nearest to her stopped, staring a little more openly. Skuld's shoulders hitched; she darted a sideways look towards one of them, and they turned away hurriedly. She swallowed and focused her attention forward.
A crew member tugged on some ropes attached to the sails, several arms moving over one another in quick succession.
"I—I'd like to help."
The crew member jumped; he lost his grip on the rope, then scrambled to grab it again, cursing quietly. "Geez, don't sneak up on me like—oh." His expression shuttered when he turned to her.
Skuld pulled away a little.
"You were on the deck, earlier. Practicing with that weird sword of yours."
"Y-yeah."
He studied her for several long moments, then turned back to his task. "Look, you're too green to be working the sheets right now. Go find something else to do. Swab the deck or something."
"I—right. Thank you." She had no idea what that meant, but she thought she was probably supposed to, so she awkwardly shuffled away.
Another crew member was lifting crates, muttering to herself, "Man, why do I always got to do inventory? Can't Darrel do it for once? Stupid lazy ass…"
Skuld's attention flicked between the crew member and the crates. Is she just moving them? Where to? Skuld hesitated a moment, then rallied herself and tried to pick one up. It was heavier than she expected it to be, and she nearly dropped it, scrambling to get ahold of the bottom again.
"Hey, hey, put that back!"
Skuld jumped, and this time she did drop the crate; it landed on the deck with a clatter, and she winced as all eyes turned their way. Her cheeks heated, and she hid in her coat as best she could.
The crew member opened the crate, inspecting things carefully. "You can't just come over and start taking things," she grumbled. "I'm doing inventory. I need to know where everything is, else we'll have problems when we get to the next port."
"I—I'm sorry. I didn't know."
The crew member huffed and waved her off.
Skuld ducked backwards; her heels hit something, and she nearly tripped over herself trying to stay upright.
"Watch it!"
"Sorry."
Her back bumped wood, and she stiffened on instinct. It's fine. It's fine, it's fine, it's fine.
…I don't know what I'm doing.
"Hey, newbie," said a familiar voice, making her jump, "fancy seeing you here."
Zidane perched overhead, grinning down at her.
The sight of a friendly face—even if it was on someone she didn't entirely know yet—made some of the tension in her chest fade.
"Wasn't she the one you recruited, smart guy?"
Skuld's attention darted towards the deck and landed on two more people, approaching from the far side. One was a boy with patchwork skin and red hair, a belt wrapped over his eyes; the other was a man with a bandana, a sword buckled at his side. The speaker seemed to be the first of the two, his arms crossed and head tilted towards Zidane.
"What can I say?" Zidane asked, placing a hand over his chest. "I can't resist a pretty face."
"More like you were trying to talk your way out of trouble and got more than you bargained for."
The man with the bandana stayed silent, attention turned towards Skuld. She tried not to fidget.
"Hey," Zidane protested, "that was a successful heist, thank you."
"What's your definition of successful?"
"We didn't get arrested."
"You did get arrested. The captain just bailed you out. Also, I'm pretty sure she's not allowed to dock there for a while because—" He broke off, attention darting towards Skuld.
Skuld swallowed, fists curling. Because I attacked the queen. "She was making Heartless. She was—I had to."
(The words felt sickly, sticking to the inside of her throat and tasting like bile in her mouth. She knew she couldn't let experiments like what was done to her—like that continue, but—
She didn't want to think about it.)
"The boss was furious when he found out you'd disappeared, by the way," the second man said; he hadn't taken his focus off Skuld.
"Yeah, I know. He gave me an earful already."
"That's good," said a familiar voice, "because that means I don't have to give you another one."
Amelia approached them, two people trailing behind her. One was a large man Skuld didn't recognize; the other was the boy Amelia had called Jim, who looked a little like he'd bit into a lemon.
Zidane winced. "That's promising."
The unknown man barked a laugh. "Cheeky little shit, is what you are. What were you thinking, breaking into Alexandria Castle?"
"I was thinking I could grab some stuff and get out before anyone noticed. You know, annoy the guards and have some fun before I have to pretend to be an upstanding merchant for the next several months."
"Gentlemen."
Zidane straightened and nearly fell, his tail saving him at the last moment. He dropped to the deck beside Skuld.
Skuld flashed him an uncertain look.
He gave her a grin and a thumb's up.
Amelia's attention flicked between the two of them. "Miss Skuld. You're new to sailing, correct?"
"I—yes."
"Then you'll need someone to show you the ropes." Amelia gestured for Jim to come forward. "Mister Hawkins here will be in charge of you for the duration of the journey. Keep a sharp eye on her, would you?"
"Sure," Jim agreed, but he looked a little uncertain.
"And you, Mister Tribal," Amelia continued, turning a pointed look at Zidane, "could use a reminder of how you'll need to act while employed with us. As I clearly can't trust you on your own, you'll also be in Mister Hawkins's care."
"What?" Jim protested, whipping towards the captain.
"Sucks to be you," the red-haired boy murmured, leaning closer towards Zidane.
Zidane swiped at him playfully.
His friend laughed. "We'll be waiting for when you get off probation."
Skuld watched their interactions, something aching in her chest. For a moment, her vision flickered, and she thought she saw the hazy figures of—
Something.
Her chest tightened, and she turned away quickly, tugging her coat closer like a blanket.
"Is there going to be a problem?" Amelia asked, glancing between Jim and Zidane.
"I—no, Captain." Jim straightened, but his facial features looked like they were trying to twitch towards something a little less willing and a little more frustrated.
"No, I get it," Zidane said with a sigh. "Get out of jail, do community service. Least I'm not alone this time, eh?" He elbowed Skuld.
She gave him a tentative smile.
"Right. I'll leave you to it." Amelia dipped her head to them, then stopped beside Jim, resting a hand on his shoulder. "This shouldn't be a challenge for you, after everything. I have faith you'll manage it well."
Jim didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't protest either.
"Blank!" the unknown man shouted. "Marcus! Come on, leave him to his misery. No heckling, now."
"You're lucky the boss is looking out for you," the red-haired boy said, giving Zidane a crooked grin.
"Oh, come on. Like you two could bother me that much."
"Blank." The man with the bandana—Marcus?—had already made it partway across the ship.
Blank hurried after him.
Skuld murmured, "Who were—?"
"Hmm? Oh, they're other members of Tantalus." Skuld's confusion must've shown on her face, because Zidane continued, "Theater troupe by day, professional thieves and mercenaries by night. The captain hired us because her crew was a bit short-staffed—something about an incident with monsters?" He shrugged. "Anyway, those two were Blank and Marcus, and the big guy was Baku. Ruby and Cinna are around—you'll probably see them at some point."
Jim cleared his throat.
Skuld and Zidane both snapped towards him.
"Teaching the newbies. Right," Jim murmured, sounding more like he was talking to himself than them. His attention flicked rapidly between the two of them for a few moments, finally landing solidly on Skuld as he asked, "What do you know about sailing?"
"I—not that much." She swallowed, then corrected, "Nothing."
"Okay, that's—not ideal."
"I know about sailing," Zidane interjected.
Jim gave him a deadpan look. "I know, Zidane."
"So technically, I should just be able to follow you around and call you out whenever you say anything wrong, right?" He gave Jim a cheeky smile.
"You know something? You're right, that's absolutely what you should do."
"Wait, really?"
"No." Jim grinned, then leaned back and called, "Hey, Morph!"
Skuld started when a small, blob-like creature seemed to appear from nowhere. He chittered at her, swarming around her head, then darted to Jim and nuzzled his cheek.
Jim laughed. "Hey. Need you to keep an eye on him." He gestured to Zidane.
Morph made a chittering, trilling sound, his eyes growing bigger as he flew closer to Zidane.
"While I do what? Follow you around and be bored?"
"Actually, there's a mop and bucket right there." Jim pointed to something just behind Zidane.
"Really?"
"Hey, everyone's got to do it. Besides, if you didn't want extra chores, you shouldn't have snuck out."
Zidane sighed, but went and got the mop.
Jim's shoulders relaxed a little, and he ran a tired hand over his face. "Maybe that'll keep him occupied for a bit." He glanced towards Skuld, and she straightened almost instinctively. "Let's start with a tour of the ship. Probably a good idea to get you used to everything before we start training you."
Skuld nodded tightly, and Jim started forward, weaving through the crew like it was natural. Skuld awkwardly shuffled out of the way of one member and nearly tripped over another, dodging about on her toes as she tried to keep up.
"This is the deck," Jim said, "but you already know that."
"Good explanation," Zidane said, and it took a moment for Skuld to realize that he was following them, water trailing behind him. "You want to explain what sails are next?"
Jim glanced past Skuld to glare, and Zidane grinned unrepentantly. "You missed a spot."
"I just started, so I've probably missed a lot."
"Just—focus on your job." Jim gave a tired sigh, then gestured for Skuld to follow him. "Come on."
Jim gave her a quick run-down of the rooms below deck—the kitchen, the crew's quarters, storage, the engine room. Skuld tried to stay close, shoulders pulled in.
They passed other crew members, sometimes, but without her Keyblade, it seemed like Skuld was mostly invisible; it couldn't entirely make her relax, but it was enough to ease her tension a little.
When they returned above deck, Zidane tossed the mop back to Jim. "It's done."
Jim raised an eyebrow. "That quickly, huh?"
"I had help." He jerked a thumb to Morph, who transformed into a mop, chittering quietly. "Guess I'll just have to find something else to keep me entertained now."
"Uh-huh. You know, I hear the dishes need doing."
"You could at least give me something interesting to do," Zidane protested as they started moving again, Skuld struggling to keep up.
"Sure. When you stop getting me in trouble."
"I didn't—oh, that's right. The captain but you in charge of all of us, huh?" Zidane rubbed his chin. "Didn't think about that."
"Yeah. I got that."
Skuld's eyes darted uncertainly between them. (They were back in the crowd, and people were starting to stare, and it made her heart hammer and her palms sweat, a panicked thing somewhere in the back of her brain urging her to move.) "Hey," she said, quick, quiet, "what about—"
Something bumped against her back.
Skuld didn't remember turning; it took a moment for her mind to catch up with her actions, and a moment longer to realize she was holding Starlight, weapon pointed threateningly at another crew member. For a heartbeat, the two of them just stood there staring, the crew member's expression of horror likely reflecting Skuld's own.
She could practically feel Jim and Zidane's tension behind her.
"Easy, now," the crew member said. "Easy. There's no need for us to be fighting."
Slowly she lowered Starlight, her hand shaking. Go away, she thought at the weapon. Disappear.
(The thoughts made something stick in her throat. There were still too many people here, and they should be safe, they should, but she didn't know them, and—)
The crew member eyed Starlight warily, then hurried away, darting back into the crowd.
Whispers rose from the crew like a breeze, flitting through her ears, buzzing with a low, tense energy.
"Isn't she the one that attacked that monarch or something?"
"Doesn't know a thing about sailing. What was the Captain thinking, bringing her on?"
"Hush. Didn't you hear? There's something special about that weapon."
"Ignore them," Jim said, his voice too-loud. "Come on. We've still got some stuff to cover."
Skuld stood there, shaking. "I—"
"Skuld?"
"I should go." She turned and darted away.
"Skuld, wait—"
She ignored him, hurrying towards the nearest safe space: Captain Amelia's cabin. The door slammed closed behind her, and her back hit it with a dull thud, her head tilted back as she just breathed and listened.
Everything was silent for several moments. Slowly, gradually, work continued, people muttering things that were too quiet for her to hear.
Skuld let out a slow breath, clasping her hands and pressing them against her lips. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't mean to dis—"
Amelia wasn't there.
Skuld stared, her shoulders slowly sinking. With a shaky sigh she slumped, sliding partway down the door. At least I didn't mess that up, too. She ran a hand through her hair.
(No memories. No useable skills. Just a weapon she didn't understand that had gotten her free passage because it was something out of a legend.
The old her probably would've known what to do. The old her wouldn't have immediately made a mess of things. She might've figured out how to stop the queen without attacking her. She wouldn't have panicked about being kept in a cell. She wouldn't be so jumpy in crowds. She wouldn't—
She'd be better.)
Her eyes flicked towards Amelia's desk. After a moment's hesitation she pushed away from the door, sliding over to the desk and reaching underneath. She rummaged about a bit, searching for the book of legends; it took a moment to find, hidden in one of the drawers. She pulled it free and sat, laying it on her lap and flipping it open.
Pages upon pages of legends spilled out before her; stories of strange beasts that haunted the space between worlds, planets that were little more than graveyards, unsolved mysteries that explorers had never been able to unravel. It all felt almost—unreal. Like these were nothing but fairytales that some wayfarer might tell their children.
She stopped, finally, on the page about Keyblade wielders. There was so little information, and given the context of the rest of the book—well. If she didn't have a Keyblade, she would've thought the stories were fake, too. But it was the one tangible link she had to her past right now, aside from her Keyblade, and she read the passage over and over again, trying to imprint it into her memory. It made her feel…a little less like an outcast. Like there was somewhere she was supposed to belong and something she was supposed to do, if she could just find it.
The door creaked open.
Skuld tensed on reflex. Footsteps crossed the room, and she scrambled to her feet, slamming the book shut.
Amelia gave her a startled look. Her expression shifted to something neutral a moment later, but Skuld suspected that she'd made a misstep by hiding in here. "I wondered where you had gotten off to."
"I—I just needed a break."
"No one's seen you in a solid hour."
Skuld winced. "I didn't mean to be gone that long."
Amelia studied her. She held out her hand, and it took Skuld a moment to realize she was asking for the book. She passed it back sheepishly. "You know," Amelia commented, "going through people's things is generally considered rude."
Skuld's cheeks heated.
"I won't hold it against you this time," Amelia continued, "since I assume you were mostly looking for information." She put the book back and snapped the drawer shut. "But I've had—let's say issues with crew members before. I don't want to be dealing with that again. Are we clear?"
"Yes. Ma'am."
"Good."
Skuld swallowed, hesitating a moment. "Why did you—?"
Amelia raised an eyebrow.
Skuld rallied her courage and continued, "You agreed to take me on because of my Keyblade." It wasn't a question, not really.
"I did."
Skuld stared, uncertain what else she wanted to say.
Amelia sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I'm just as curious as you are. When presented with a supposedly legendary weapon out of thin air, you can't simply turn the owner away without hunting for answers. Provided you don't cause too much of a stir, I see no reason not to investigate."
The rest of the crew doesn't think that way. She swallowed the words, pushing them deep into her chest.
"I have pragmatic reasons too, of course. You mentioned Heartless when you broke out of your cell, if I recall correctly."
Skuld's head jerked towards her.
"There's been a—well. Heartless are also something that are just on this side of myths. They were seen relatively infrequently, save for some of the most inhospitable places and unexplored reaches of space. Now, they've started appearing more often, and it makes traversing worlds a bit more hazardous." Amelia studied her carefully. "The Keyblade," she continued, "is said to be used to slay monsters. And if anything could be considered monsters, I'd say the Heartless qualify."
"They were people."
"Were. By the time they've become Heartless, there's not much left of the person that they used to be."
(That tugged on something in the back of Skuld's mind—of shadowy figures and harsh words and a horror that she couldn't quite vocalize.)
Amelia's expression softened, just a little. "But you don't need to worry about that now. Monsters or not, I suspect we won't see any sign of them until we make port—and if we're lucky, not even then."
Skuld nodded, but the words weren't quite as comforting as she'd hoped they'd be.
They stood there in awkward silence a few moments. Amelia finally sighed and returned to her desk, pulling out some paperwork.
Skuld didn't know what she was supposed to do. The idea of returning to the deck made her chest tighten, but she also didn't like just standing here, imposing on Amelia's good will and disturbing…whatever it was she was working on. Her eyes darted about the room, if for no other reason than to give her something to do.
They eventually landed on the frayed map, still displayed proudly on the wall. She turned, examining it curiously.
It looked…old. The edges seemed stained with age, the paper brown and crinkled. Even so, the stars looked like they'd been mapped out with care, painstakingly placed there by hand. Skuld swallowed as she looked at it. I wonder if any of those worlds were mine. I wonder if the old me would've known them.
"Something the matter?"
Skuld jumped, then rubbed her neck, embarrassed. "No, I just—I was wondering about the map. Why do you have it here, if it's damaged?"
Amelia set her pen down. She looked to the map, her expression turning thoughtful. "It was a gift," she said. "A dear friend of mine found it. He always was fond of odd things like that."
"But—but it's ruined."
"That depends on the point of view, don't you think? It might not entirely work as a map anymore, but it has a history. And besides, I think it makes a fine display."
"I—right." Skuld squinted at the paper, but all she could really see was an old map. Deciding to drop the matter, and with nothing else to do, she reluctantly turned and left, bracing herself and preparing to get back to work.
-Skuld sat in her hammock. She imagined the rhythmic movement of the ship should've been relaxing, but she couldn't quite get herself to calm down. She blinked slowly, fingers jittery, tapping out an uneasy rhythm on the Keyblade laid across her lap.
Not all of the crew was asleep, either; occasionally she'd see the flash of eyes, flicking to her and Starlight. She tried not to stare back, but she kept shooting glances their way almost subconsciously, and had to tear her eyes away a moment later.
Her eyes were heavy, though, and despite the press of darkness and the stares of the other crew members, she found them slowly drooping. Her head bobbed, and she jerked, trying to keep it up. It bobbed again, and—
She opened her eyes to a different place. Dim light filtered through the barred window of her cell, and her breath caught, rough in the back of her throat.
A knock sounded on her door; for half a moment, she thought this memory was a later one, from when Lea and Isa had started visiting her. Then a deeper, rougher voice murmured, "Are you awake?"
Xehanort.
She hadn't hummed an assent then, and she didn't now; this was still early into her imprisonment, when she didn't really know Xehanort yet. He was a stranger to her still, but—
She'd been curious. She'd been curious, because he was the one that was like her.
The door creaked open slowly, and her attention jerked towards it.
Xehanort appeared in the doorway, framed in shadow. He scanned her, a question in his eyes. She hadn't known what it was then, but she did now: he'd wanted to know how she was. His lips pursed, and he gave a quick glance behind him, then closed the door slowly. "I'm not supposed to be here," he said, quickly, quietly, and oh, hadn't that become a familiar refrain, once Lea and Isa had started visiting? "But I needed to speak with you. You are—you're like me."
You're like me. The words squeezed something in Skuld's chest, even now.
Xehanort sat, carefully, putting a respectful space between her and him. "It's frustrating," he murmured, "to know that there was something before. To know that there is a whole history you're missing. To know that this isn't where you're meant to be. To know that there are people who are likely missing you."
Skuld's throat tightened. She didn't think it was just from the memory.
"You have so many questions, and no one can answer them." Xehanort reached a hand into his pocket, fingering something there that Skuld couldn't see. "None of the others understand," he whispered, and then he lifted his head, something almost hopeful in his eyes, "But you—"
She'd tried to say something, then, but—the words wouldn't come. They felt like they were stuck against the back of her throat, her tongue too unwieldy to form them. She couldn't even quite make a noise, the sound so quiet and wheezing it might've just been a breath. Frustrated tears had pricked her eyes, and she'd just nodded rapidly, trying to convey that she understood.
(She hadn't. Not really, not then. Most of what she'd understood was the loneliness and the confusion, and Xehanort had offered a remedy for both of them.)
Xehanort's eyes had dimmed a little at her lack of response, but he'd schooled his expression a moment later, softening it as he murmured, "It's hard at the beginning. We'll take it slow."
She'd nodded, and then—
She was in a different memory.
This was—not a different Xehanort, really, or she didn't think so. Just a version of him she hadn't known existed, when she'd first started interacting with him. "Come on. We're going to run some more tests."
She'd looked at him tiredly.
"Subject X."
That's not my name, she'd wanted to say, but didn't, locking her jaw stubbornly.
Xehanort had glanced furtively behind him, then hissed, jaw clacking, "Do you want to regain your memories or don't you?"
She opened her mouth, the words pulled free, quiet and raw against her throat: "The tests hurt."
"I know, but it's the only way—"
"Then why don't you do them?"
"I've been banned from them."
"Why?" she whispered, the words hissing between her teeth. "What makes you so different from me?"
"I'm a researcher."
"And I'm what?"
Xehanort hadn't said anything, then. Skuld thought it was for the best; she isn't sure what she would've wanted him to answer. (Did she want him to call her a friend, to know that some part of him had actually cared for her? Did she want him to call her an experiment, so it'd be easier to hate him for all of this? Did she—
She didn't know what she wanted.)
Xehanort reached, moving quicker than Skuld could react, his hand snagging her arm and tugging her forward.
Her breath hitched, and panic flared in her mind, because this always meant that she was going to get dragged out to get tests run on her, this always meant that she was going to get hurt—
"Come on," Xehanort said, and his eyes and expression were distant. (She almost—almost—thought she could see regret, there. But maybe that was wishful thinking.) "We'll begin the first test."
Skuld's eyes snapped open, and she took in a shuddering gasp. She hadn't fallen over, somehow; she still sat upright in her hammock, Starlight braced across her knees.
Her chest was tighter. She was shaking, her arms quivering so hard that she thought they might fall off. Her breath was ragged against her throat, shuddering and uncertain.
She slipped out of her hammock, and more eyes were on her now, some people tensing as she moved past them. She tried not to focus on them, nearly running to the deck.
She stepped out of the crew's quarters and stumbled to a halt.
There were still people working up here. There were still people working up here, and—it didn't matter. It didn't matter, because there was nowhere else she could go.
(She wasn't in a cage anymore, but it felt a little like one, sometimes. There was only so far she could go on a ship she didn't control.)
Skuld pressed herself into a far corner, turning away from the crew. She lifted her shaking Keyblade and clasped it with both hands. Okay. Okay, I can—I need to figure out more about what this does. I need to—I need to do something productive.
She stood there several moments, doing nothing.
She sucked in a breath, blinking and trying to focus. Back when—back at the castle, when I attacked the queen. I created fire. I used magic.
(The image of the fireball burned behind her eyes, and she saw the salesman ducking, and something sick welled in her gut. She tried not to think about it too much.)
She focused on that core of energy inside her, trying to draw something out.
Starlight flickered. Heat burned through her arms, and she nearly dropped her Keyblade. She swallowed and tried to focus, staring at the end of the weapon.
(Stares bored into her back.)
Something that might've been fire flickered at the end of her Keyblade. It died a moment later, and Skuld tried to focus harder.
(Xehanort watched her from the cell door, expression disappointed.)
Come on. Come on, work. Fire formed slowly, small sparks spinning around each other.
("Hey, check this out!" Lea grinned and struck a pose, lifting his hand. "Ta-da!" A couple of small sparks burst from his hand.
She stared through the bars of her cell, entranced.
"Pretty impressive, right? I've been practicing for weeks."
Isa snorted. "And that's as far as you got, huh?"
"Hey, magic's tricky! It takes time."
"Could you teach me?" she'd asked before she could think better of it, then clamped her hands over her mouth, flinching backwards.
Neither Lea nor Isa had looked upset, though; Lea had grinned widely, coming closing to the door, hopping up so that he could grip the edge of the window and look in. "Alright. So what you've got to do is…")
Look for something inside your heart. Dive deep, feel that pulse of energy, and just focus.
Her Keyblade shook wildly. She hitched a breath, then bit her lip. Her shoulders shook, and she choked back a sob, pressing a hand against her mouth. Her Keyblade sank to the deck and disappeared.
Why can't I do it? Why can't I—?
(She couldn't escape on her own. She couldn't figure out her Keyblade. She didn't fit in with the crew. She was supposed to be some sort of legendary warrior, but she'd never felt less legendary in her life.)
I just need to get back to who I was. I just need to figure out who I used to be, and then everything will be alright again.
-Skuld was exhausted the next morning, struggling to keep her eyes open. She rubbed at them and stifled a yawn.
"…uld? Skuld!"
Skuld jerked, turning towards Jim and trying to focus.
Jim gave her a concerned look and lifted two ropes.
Oh. Right. We're— She scrunched her nose and stared at the ropes across her lap.
"We're working on lifelines," Jim reminded her quietly.
"Right. Right, I—sorry."
Jim didn't look like he knew whether to be frustrated or sympathetic, so he just silently showed her how to tie them again.
"You know," Zidane commented, "can't blame her for falling asleep."
"Zidane."
"Come on, just doing this over and over again is boring. It's not like we don't know how to tie knots." He lifted his rope.
"Great," Jim said, "then you can swab the deck."
"Wait. Hang on—"
Jim tossed him a bucket.
Zidane caught it with a yelp.
Skuld stifled a laugh, turning back to her work.
Zidane rolled his eyes. "Running me ragged already, I see."
"It's your own fault for running off."
"You say that like you've never gotten into trouble." Zidane grabbed a mop and stuck it into the bucket.
"Nope," Jim responded, but his lips were twitching.
"Come on, it's practically a rite of passage."
Morph appeared from somewhere behind Jim, shifting into a miniature copy of Zidane. "Rite of passage, rite of passage!"
Jim finally broke, laughing as Morph floated over to him. "Alright, alright. I may have not exactly been a law-abiding citizen at one point."
"Details?"
"You don't need details," Jim said, exasperated but amused. "Get to work."
"So shockingly, I can work and talk at the same time." He started mopping, raising his eyebrows at Jim expectantly.
Jim sighed and tilted his head backwards, hands resting on the railing. "I might've gotten in trouble for trespassing a couple of times."
"See? Delinquent."
"Ha, ha. I'm sure you've gotten into way more trouble than just attempting to break into a castle."
"Hey, now. Most of the time we ran successful heists, thank you. Put on a play, distract everyone, rob them blind when they aren't looking."
"Mm-hm. And I'm sure you never got caught."
"They could never pin anything on us!"
A melancholy smile tugged on Skuld's lips. The exchange reminded her eerily of Lea and Isa, and it made something in her chest ache fondly.
("Hey, so the other day, we found this huge plant growing outside someone's building—"
"It was just ivy."
"And I went, 'Hey, Isa, bet you can't climb up that.' And he didn't because he's chicken—"
"Because I have common sense."
"So I had to do it for him."
"And get rushed to the doctor with a broken nose."
Lea still had something white placed over the bridge. He smiled unrepentantly. "It's good practice, for when we get you out of here."
She managed a small smile. The words were hollow promises, no matter how much the boys wanted them to be true—she just wasn't sure they realized it yet.)
"You got any good stories?"
It took Skuld several moments to realize the question was directed at her. She froze, staring blankly at Zidane and Jim and their expectant looks. "Um."
"You know," Zidane prompted. "Hijinks with friends? Grand adventures? I'm sure you have more than just attacking the queen."
"I—" Don't. But she couldn't tell them that; not when telling stories like this seemed so normal. (She wanted desperately to have something normal.) "I—remember talking about stories with my fr—"
("There are countless other worlds out there. Perhaps if I went looking, I could find answers on one of them.")
Skuld's mouth snapped shut. She focused on her rope, twisting it into knots. "I had some—friends. They'd sneak in to see me."
(These memories were fonder. These were filled with stolen moments and curious discoveries and bouts of happiness that had long since dwindled with Xehanort.)
"They—their names were Lea and Isa. They weren't supposed to be there, but they'd come anyways. When they could. And they'd bring all sorts of things with them. They had—books. And pastries, sometimes, from a bakery they told me about. And sometimes they'd just talk and tell me stories about how—how they'd sneak past the guards, or how they'd tried to help this stray cat that lived in the square, or—"
"Your house had guards?"
Skuld's mouth clamped shut.
Both of her companions were giving her strange looks. She couldn't quite decipher what they meant, and she looked away sharply. "They were—they guarded the castle."
"So that's where you got that from. Carrying on a tradition, huh?"
She gave Zidane a tremulous smile, but there was something in his eyes that she wasn't sure she liked.
"Your parents must've been strict," Zidane continued, faux casual, "if your friends had to sneak in."
Skuld's hands tightened around the rope.
Jim swiped at Zidane.
"Hey!"
"Alright, get back to work. Come on, we've still got stuff to cover."
Zidane sighed theatrically, but kept mopping.
Skuld could feel Jim's eyes on her, but she didn't lift her head. After a moment Jim murmured, "I think we've done enough knots for now. Come on, why don't I show you how to work the sheets a little?"
-"Here, darling."
Skuld accepted the bundle with furrowed eyebrows.
The woman—who'd introduced herself as 'Ruby'—gave her a tiny smile. "They're new clothes, dear. Couldn't help but notice that your current outfit's a bit on the odd side."
Skuld wrinkled her nose and looked at her borrowed clothes and leather jacket. "What's wrong with them?"
"Nothing's wrong, hun. They just make you stand out. I thought you might like to avoid some of the stares people keep sending you. Besides, it's always a good idea to have an extra set of clothes."
She really would like to stand out a little less, even if she didn't think the reason the crew members were staring so much was because of what she looked like. Still, she gave Ruby a tentative smile. "Thank you."
"Of course. And—Skuld, right? Don't mind the rest of them. You've caused a bit of a stir, but things'll die down after a while."
Skuld nodded. She stepped away, taking the bundle of clothes with her.
She wasn't sure where she was supposed to change, so she found a hidden corner of the ship and unfolded the clothes. They seemed relatively practical and subdued—sturdy black paints with large pockets, a pale shirt and a smaller, heavier flight jacket to replace her current leather one. The only thing that stood out was the scarf—a bright red thing that looked hand-knitted and warm.
(It reminded her of something, but trying to grasp the memory felt like trying to hold onto water.)
Skuld blinked away tears, and made sure to thank Ruby later.
-Skuld made it a point to explore every nook and cranny of the ship.
She'd never been able to explore, back in Radiant Garden; she'd been relegated to her cell, up until the man with the eyepatch had finally let her out. Now that she was free, she wanted to opportunity to absorb everything the ship had to offer, and she found herself trailing through the different rooms curiously.
Here, an area filled with crates and boxes and other things; she thought about pushing them open, but she still remembered her encounter on the deck, and so decided to leave their contents hidden.
Here, the kitchen. The smells were strange; she didn't know if she could take food or if she had to wait, and wasn't keen on what punishment she might receive if she wasn't careful. Most of it only looked questionably like food, anyways.
Here, what looked like the engine room. She'd wandered in, curious, and been chased out by an angry man named Cinna.
Not all the rooms were open, of course. There were a couple that were locked securely, but—well. That's what her Keyblade was for.
(She'd be lying if she didn't also want to use the opportunity to practice. She knew that the Keyblade could open locks, but what counted as a lock? She'd tried it on a chest in the storage room, the cabinets in the kitchen, even a locket left out in the crew's quarters. All had opened.
…The book had also said something about unlocking hearts. Skuld didn't think she was ready to test that one.)
Skuld rattled the doorknob of a locked door. Starlight flickered into her hands, and she lifted the weapon. The door opened with a quiet click.
"Who's there?" someone snapped.
Skuld peered in.
Blank sat at a table, mixing something together. He paused. "Oh. It's you."
"What are you doing?"
"Making potions. Amelia wants some ready, just in case."
(There was something that flickered there, in the back of her mind. A memory, not quite formed, of someone else doing something similar—sitting in a large meeting room, at a desk away from the others.
"You should join us," she thought she said, "instead of working all the time."
There was a low, humming reply, words too quiet to make out. Someone else responded in a sing-song voice, a blur of red and white. Skuld blinked, and breathed, and tried to hold the image in place.)
"Something the matter?"
And then she was back, standing in the doorway of the small cubby, foreign (familiar) Keyblade still clenched in her hand. "I—no. I'm sorry for wasting your time." She backed out of the room, then turned and ran, uncertain if she was trying to escape ghosts or find them.
-Sometimes, being on the ship made Skuld feel like she was trapped. A restlessness would build up in her legs, and she'd need to move, move, move, taking stock of the corridors she passed if she could, eyes always open in case something (someone) happened to step out of them. Being below deck sometimes made the feeling worse; it felt like the walls were falling down, and she'd move faster, until she'd broken into a run and sprinted up onto the deck.
But the deck was still small, and they were still in space, and there was nowhere else for her to run to. It left her pacing, agitated, back and forth across the deck.
She could feel the eyes of the other crewmates. She wondered what she must look like to them.
"Give me something to do," she told Jim the moment he'd stepped onto the deck.
"Uh—"
"Please."
He hesitated. "You can—swab the deck? If you want?"
"Yeah, that's—that's fine. Just—something to keep my hands busy. Something up here."
Jim nodded, looking a little thrown, but he went and got the mop.
-Skuld opened her eyes and found herself staring up at a gray ceiling. Rough leather wrapped around her arms and legs. She jerked on instinct, trying to pull her limbs free. Panic choked her throat and wrapped a vice around her chest. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe couldn't breathecouldn'tbreathe—
I can't be back here again.
"We're going to start the experiment," Xehanort said; his voice came from a distance, as if it were filtering through water.
(But she still remembered what it had sounded like; like he'd been trying to seem detached, but there was a gentleness underneath everything that he couldn't get rid of. It made her want to vomit.)
But this was a memory. And back then, she'd been a little nervous, but not truly scared. She felt like she was trapped in her own body as her head turned, puppeted on strings her past self controlled. She hummed an acknowledgement, and it felt like it was being ripped out of her throat, sticking to the inside of her mouth and cutting against her teeth.
Xehanort nodded, and there was something uncertain in his expression, covered up quickly.
(Why did you do it? she wanted to ask. Why did you do it, if you weren't sure how things would turn out?)
Xehanort fastened something to her chest. She didn't want to look at it, now, and wished she could close her eyes as her head tilted upwards. She got the vaguest look at a strange contraption, several prongs pricking her chest, something that she could now identify as the thrum of magic pulsing underneath its sensors.
"The heart is said to hold everything that makes someone who they are," Xehanort said, and he sounded like he was talking more to steady himself than to steady her. He's scared, she thought. He's not certain this is going to work.
(It wouldn't. It wouldn't, but neither of them knew that then. She wished she could say something. She wished she could warn—
Who? Herself? Xehanort?)
"That includes memories," Xehanort continued, jerking her back to the moment. "In theory, forgotten memories should just be stored in the deepest depths of the heart. As such, we only need to explore far enough, and we should be able to find them." He paused, giving Skuld a long look. "Are you ready?"
No, she thought. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be here, I don't want to do this again—
She tried to keep herself from nodding. She strained against the movement, her eyes burning, her mouth clamped shut against a scream she couldn't give. She smiled, and it felt plastic.
Xehanort turned to the machine.
Don't, she begged silently. Don't. Don't, please—
He went to start it.
Don't don't don'tdon'tdon't—
He turned the machine on, and everything went white.
Her mind buzzed. Her vision blurred. She thought she might've been screaming—it felt like she was screaming, her throat raw and rough—but she couldn't hear it. White-hot pain flared through her chest and made her stomach turn. Fight back, some coherent part of her was screeching. Fight back, fight back, you have a Keyblade—
I can't.
A hidden, angry, desperate voice snapped, wounded, You're supposed to be a hero! Save yourself! Do something useful!
Skuld tried to swallow and couldn't. Lea! she wanted to scream, the word bottled in the back of her throat. Isa!
Eph—!
The pain stopped as abruptly as it had started. She heaved, twisting her head and trying not to throw up. Her head spun; her limbs shook violently, and she couldn't get them to stop, no matter how hard she tried. Her teeth clattered against each other, and she sucked unsteady breaths through them. She thought she should be crying, but she…couldn't. She didn't know why.
"I'm sorry," Xehanort said. And he sounded it—even now, Skuld didn't have it in her heart to disbelieve him. (She wanted it to be true. She wanted to believe he really had been horrified that he'd hurt her, at least at the beginning.) "I'm sorry, I didn't know it would—I should've tested it more. I should've—" He reached a hand towards her.
She flinched away.
His hand hesitated. His expression looked stricken. "Sk—" He broke off.
Skuld wanted to snap her head towards him, but her past self hadn't recognized the almost-name. She'd just looked at him blearily, uncertain about why Xehanort had suddenly looked so lost.
"Subject X," Xehanort corrected, but he still looked like he wasn't entirely there.
What were you going to say? Skuld wanted to ask. You couldn't have known my name. Not before I did.
…Could you?
"I'm going to need to touch you. To get you out of the restraints. Is that alright?"
She hadn't been able to answer, then; she didn't know if she could answer now.
Xehanort had eventually given up on waiting; he'd unfastened the restraints, carefully but quickly, and she'd nearly toppled off the table once she was free. Her legs wobbled; she'd nearly fallen until Xehanort had caught her.
His eyes still looked lost, his pupils blown too-wide, his hands unsteady on her back. He helped her back to her cell, gently lowering her to her cot, and she'd curled up on it, knees tucked to her chest.
"I'll—I'll let you rest." Xehanort had a hand on his head, blinking rapidly. He paused to give her a long, long look, then backed away, shutting the door.
Skuld took a shuddering breath. I hope I wake up soon, she thought. I don't want to be in this memory, anymore.
-Skuld stepped onto the deck and inhaled deeply. Starlight flashed into her palm. Summoning it came more naturally, now, and it soothed something in her chest. She let her body fall into familiar patterns, trying to pay conscious attention to what she was doing, but—
(There were eyes on her, watching the moment that her Keyblade appeared, a sudden distance springing up between her and the rest of the crew.)
Her foot slipped. The blade felt like it went too far too the right. She tried to correct herself, shifting back into position, but she didn't know what she was doing, not really. Everything she was working off of were just the ghosts of memories she no longer had, buried so deep in her bones that they left impressions. She felt off-balance, the weight in her hands throwing her swings wide, the movements jerky and uncomfortable the more she focused on them.
Starlight hit the railing and stuck for a moment. Skuld tugged it free, stumbled, and lost her grip on the Keyblade. It spun through the air and clattered against the deck.
A couple of the people jumped away from the sound. They stared at her, and she stared back, and for a moment, she didn't know what she was supposed to do. Her face heated, and she stalked across the deck.
The crew pulled out of the way—some quickly, some more subtly, but their eyes tracked her warily across the deck. She felt them acutely as she went to pick up her weapon, and it made her want to run and hide. "Can you focus on something else?" Skuld asked, face still burning, her chest twisting into knots.
The crew started, then went into motion again, leaving her alone on her section of the deck.
(There were still murmurs, sometimes, from the crew—a cautious avoidance, a wariness whenever she pulled out her Keyblade, something that wasn't quite awe but bordered on the edge of fear and suspicion.)
She balled her fists against her side, her eyes burning a little. Some Keyblade wielder. I can't even use it right. I feel like I'm starting all over from scratch.
She almost laughed. I am starting from scratch. But…I shouldn't be.
Something flickered in the corner of her eye.
Skuld tensed, but forced herself not to swing her Keyblade, this time. She turned slowly and glanced over the side of the ship.
Jim was messing with something, swinging into and out of view.
Skuld furrowed her eyebrows. What's he doing down there? She leaned forward, trying to get a better view. When she couldn't catch sight of him, she turned and headed for the stairs, diving down into the ship's belly.
It took a moment for her to actually figure out where Jim was. She snuck through the storage area, down to the lifeboats. Jim was fiddling with something that looked less like a lifeboat and more like a miniature ship, if that ship happened to have an entirely flat hull. Skuld ducked into the shadows, watching, fascinated, as Jim unhooked the boat. He placed both feet on the board, and then just—dropped.
Skuld jerked forward without thinking, Starlight outstretched, something twisting and sparking inside her. Her Keyblade almost seemed to glow.
Jim let out a sudden shout of alarm.
Skuld stood there a few moments, frozen.
Jim and the boat hovered, just below the ship. They spun in the air, Jim clinging to the mast like a lifeline. He tilted his head up towards her. "Wha—Skuld?"
"I—I thought—you were falling, and—"
"What did you do?"
"I don't know."
"Can you undo it?"
Skuld just stared at him. "But you'll fall."
"I won't. I know what I'm doing."
I don't, Skuld thought, but she swallowed back the words. "Okay," she said, even if she absolutely didn't know how to undo…whatever it was she'd done. I'm supposed to be a Keyblade wielder. I'm supposed to know how to do this.
…How did I do it in the first place?
She'd been panicked, mostly. Something in her chest had twisted—that same weight that felt like it rested near her heart, whenever she called on Starlight. She tugged at that, extending her Keyblade over the opening.
Jim still floated there.
Skuld's lips dipped into a frown. She concentrated harder, tugging on the thing in her chest again.
Something purple shimmered across the empty space. Jim dropped with a yelp.
Skuld jerked towards the opening, free hand gripping the edge.
Then Jim was shooting up and away, balanced perfectly on the board, his hands gripping the small mast. He let out a whoop, flying alongside the ship.
Skuld's shoulders dropped with relief. She sat back, trying to calm her racing heart, and for a moment, just watched.
Jim seemed more comfortable on the board than on the ship. He spun and zipped about, tumbling and toppling over himself in intricate patterns. At one point the sail disappeared entirely and he dropped through empty space; Skuld panicked a moment before Jim caught himself, laughing with delight.
It seemed so natural. Skuld wished she had the same confidence.
…It almost looks like fun.
After a time, Jim came back, pulling the board to dock inside the ship.
Skuld scooted backwards to give him more room.
"Didn't think you'd stay to watch the whole thing." He glanced away awkwardly, but he was smiling.
"You looked like you were having fun."
"I used to do it a lot, back home. I used to only dream of actually sailing, then."
"But you're part of the crew, now."
"I know. But sometimes it's nice to just do something that's familiar."
Skuld tilted her head.
Jim looked at her and sighed, his shoulders slumping with the exhale. He sat heavily beside her. "I haven't officially been a part of the crew for long. The last expedition I was a part of—things didn't pan out entirely right. The Captain trusts me, but sometimes it feels like I still have to work to prove that I belong here."
Skuld's fingers tightened around Starlight's hilt. "Doesn't feel like everything you thought it would, huh?"
He laughed. "I guess not."
For a few moments, they just sat there. Skuld thought about asking if he'd teach her how to fly like that.
(But she thought of Xehanort. She'd trusted him, and look where that had gotten her.)
Jim stood, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "Well. I should—I should get back to work. And you should probably sleep."
"Right." It didn't feel worth mentioning that she doubted she'd get much rest tonight.
Jim shifted a little, then turned and headed back up to the deck.
Skuld stayed there, staring at the boat, until her limbs grew stiff.
(She managed not to be late for her shift, despite everything, and even if she still didn't feel quite right on the ship, that still made something tight in her chest unravel.)
-"What is this?"
Skuld squinted at the picture. She knew the name—Xehanort had repeated it to her, over and over again, and if she just reached, she could—there. "Castle."
Xehanort's expression shifted marginally, his eyes brightening and the tension around his mouth relaxing. "Very good." He set the card aside, then lifted another one. "And this one?"
"Dog."
"Right. And this?"
A bright yellow flower stared back at her, the image impressed into the backs of her eyelids. "Dan—" The word caught at the back of her throat, and she grimaced, massaging her neck. "D-dan—dande-li-on." She flashed him a triumphant look.
Xehanort's mouth ticked into a smile. "Good. Now, repeat the whole set."
She gave Xehanort an exasperated look.
He chuckled. "It's a memory exercise as much as a speech exercise."
Skuld huffed, but repeated dutifully: "Guard, stone, castle, dog, d-and—dandelion." She raised an eyebrow at him.
Xehanort looked disappointed, even if he hid it well. "You forgot clock, at the beginning."
Her fingers tightened around her leg in frustration.
"It's alright. It just takes time."
She shook her head rapidly. She remembered these sessions in bits and pieces—parts came through clearly, and others receded into the darkness of her memories, but she remembered how frustrated she'd been at the beginning, when it felt like there was so little she could do on her own. No memories, difficulties speaking, too weak to even eat properly—trying to hold onto anything felt like trying to grasp air.
"It will come. It came for me."
Skuld had been surprised, then, at the admission. Xehanort always seemed so put together; the idea that he'd struggled in much the same way had seemed alien.
(She didn't learn until later that he wasn't as put together as he seemed, but—well. That was later.)
Xehanort pulled something out of his pocket, hesitating a moment before handing it to Skuld. An orange, star-shaped charm tumbled into her hands, the glass glinting in the light. She tilted it back and forth, watching as it cast reflections across the floor.
"I had very few possessions, when the others found me. So little to connect me to my past. But I found that, hidden in a pocket. I have no memory of what it is and where I obtained it, but I know that it's important. Like a connection, of sorts. I have spent far too long, perhaps, staring at that trinket and trying to figure out some sort of meaning."
(Like my Keyblade.)
It had struck her, then, how much trust he'd put in her by passing over one of the few things he had from his past—and he'd looked vulnerable, watching her with an uncertain expression, like he was half-afraid she'd run off with it. Now, she wondered if she'd had anything before the researchers had put her into that old hospital gown, and why Xehanort had never thought to return her belongings to her, and why they'd decided Xehanort was worth treating as a person but she wasn't.
But this wasn't now, and she passed the charm back, hands brushing against Xehanort's like she wasn't afraid about what he was going to do. Xehanort visibly relaxed when he had the charm in his hand again, giving it a wistful smile. "Those first weeks were difficult, but I used what connections I had to keep me grounded. We will figure out something for you, as well. Don't worry. I'll set this right."
Skuld offered a tentative, uncertain smile.
Something that sounded like vaguely muffled shouting came from down the hall.
Xehanort's attention snapped towards it, his expression shuttering.
Skuld knew what that sound must've been—another person, trapped down here, being experimented on by Xehanort and the rest of the researchers. But her past self had no context for the sound, and she simply furrowed her eyebrows, willing Xehanort to look at her and answer her unasked question.
Xehanort glanced back at her and his expression relaxed, if only marginally. "It's alright. It's nothing to worry about."
She hadn't been satisfied with that answer, even then, but she hadn't had the words to press him.
Xehanort stood. "I'll be back later. We can continue our session then." He turned to leave.
Stop him, some part of her hissed. Stop him, before he does something horrible.
Skuld scrambled to her feet, stepping out of the memory and into a dream. "Why?" she asked, voice rough and raw and painful, like needles pricking in the back of her throat.
Xehanort stopped.
Skuld's eyes burned. "Why?" she repeated. "You experimented on them. You turned them into monsters when—"
(When you should've known better.)
She shook her head furiously. "You did horrible things to other people. You did horrible things to me. So why do I miss you?" The words came out cracked and broken, and she clenched her fists so hard that her nails bit into the skin.
Xehanort stayed silent.
"Are you going to say anything?"
Xehanort turned, slowly, giving her a long, long look that rang as familiar in a way that she didn't like.
Skuld's hands shook. Starlight flickered at her fingertips, the Keyblade bursting into existence in a heartbeat. "Let them go," she said. "Let the other prisoners go."
Xehanort huffed. "Do you truly believe that will do any good? You already left them behind. Do you think pretending to be a hero will really help anyone?"
He was right. He was right, but she had to do something, and so she moved, Keyblade swinging towards Xehanort's head—
And stopping just short, stalled by Skuld's own hands. She stood there, shaking, trying to will herself to go through with the strike, and she just—couldn't.
Xehanort gave the Keyblade a side-ways glance, then rolled his eyes towards her and smirked. "How foolish."
The world darkened, everything tinting a deep, dark red. The cell faded away; the ground disappeared from beneath Skuld's feet, and she found herself falling, spinning over and over, twisting and frantically trying to right herself—
Until she hit something solid with a hard thud. Her teeth clattered with the impact, body shuddering, Starlight disappearing with a flash. Skuld groaned and pushed herself to her hands and knees, coughing and trying to catch her breath.
It didn't look like there was anything here—just a blank, black expanse, stretching as far as the eye could see. Skuld stood carefully, eyes flicking uncertainly from side to side.
Pink fire trailed by her face.
Skuld whipped around, and found herself staring at the fox again, its body still flickering, tail curled lightly around its paws.
Skuld stared at it for several moments. She cast a quick glance about her, then turned back to the fox.
The fox lifted its head. "Hello, Skuld."
Skuld started. The voice sounded feminine, almost, beneath the crackle of flames. "You're—this is another part of the dream."
The fox's eyes crinkled. "Perhaps."
Skuld took a hesitant step forward. "Are you—"
Light bloomed beneath her foot and flared outwards. Skuld flinched backwards, lifting her arms to shield her eyes.
The fox watched her, completely unaffected.
Pain throbbed through her skull. Skuld grimaced, reaching for the fox.
A voice like fire flashed through her ears, burning and painful. "I can help lead you to your memories. But are you sure you're ready?"
"Yes," she said. "Yes, please."
Something cracked. Glass shattered, and suddenly Skuld was falling, staring up as the fox watched.
-Skuld came to with a gasp. She didn't bolt, this time, but it was a near thing; she clutched her arms, rocking back and forth in her hammock, pressing her head against her legs as she tried to just breathe.
The dark felt…dangerous, right now. It crept over her shoulders and reached for her throat, threatening to wrap around her lungs. Something that screamed danger-danger-danger pinged in the back of her head, and she slipped out of the hammock, moving quickly towards the stairs.
The deck wasn't empty, but it didn't matter; she couldn't be below deck right now, in the darkness, where anything could get at her. She just needed to…practice. To figure out how to use her Keyblade. I know how to use this. I used it before. Right? I should know what I'm doing.
Starlight flashed into her palms. She gripped it tightly with both hands and took a deep breath. She adjusted her footing, awkwardly sliding across the deck. She scrunched her eyes shut, trying to get a better feel for the weapon, and swung it in an arc. The movements felt…wide. Clunky. Like she was trying to cut through water.
(Like she'd never learned this at all.)
Skuld grit her teeth. Just practice, she thought. Just practice, and you'll get better.
(You've got this!
You're doing great, Ve—)
The words turned to static before they'd even fully formed; Skuld jerked her head around, breath caught in her throat.
No one was really paying attention to her; not now, at least.
Skuld's hands shook. She closed her eyes and chased the memory. There's something there, somewhere. If I can just find it, then maybe—
Slowly she moved, half in a trance, allowing her body to slip into a familiar rhythm. Behind her eyelids, she thought she could see—
A training room. A field of flowers. An open courtyard with orange bricks. Someone with a red scarf, smiling and laughing as they spared, voice hushed and muffled, like he was shouting through water.
(And—someone else. Someone so blurry and indistinct she couldn't make out their face or their voice, but there was a warmth there that made her feel safe.)
Skuld stumbled. She lost the image; she tried to correct herself, but couldn't quite manage it, her Keyblade swinging into larger arcs.
It felt like she'd gone right back to square one. Legendary weapon. What does it matter if it's legendary, if I don't know anything about it?
She threw the Keyblade in frustration. It clattered against the deck; a moment later, it flashed back into her palm. She started backwards, then swallowed, pressing her forehead against the handle.
"Alright," a rough voice said with a sigh, "I can't keep watching this."
Skuld's shoulders tensed.
Marcus was moving towards her, purposefully pulling his sword out of its sheath.
Skuld whipped towards him, Keyblade lifted defensively. "Stay back."
"Stay—? I'm not going to fight you, geez."
Skuld's eyes flicked to his sword.
He seemed to realize what was going on a moment later. He sighed, then turned so he was facing the same direction she was, positioning himself a short distance away.
Skuld eyed him warily.
"Feet shoulder width apart."
Skuld started.
Marcus gestured lightly with his sword.
After a few hesitant moments Skuld obeyed.
"Fix the angle of your feet. There you go. Bend your knees a little more."
Skuld's wariness slowly ebbed into confusion. She copied him, accepting the gentle corrections and adjusting her stance.
"Alright, now, I don't know how that magic weapon's supposed to be used, but I know some basic catch-alls about fighting. First, your footwork and stance need to be solid or else you're just going to get pushed around. Second, you want to keep your movements concise, or else you're just going to tire yourself out—and give people more openings to react."
Skuld nodded, eyebrows furrowed.
"Right. Now, I'm going to go through some forms, and you're going to watch and copy me. Got it?"
Skuld didn't argue; she watched as Marcus lifted his weapon to his shoulder then brought it down into a quick, controlled arc. She studied him, then followed the movements slowly, trying to follow his lead.
"Tighten that up a little. You're always going to have a bit more movement with a swing, but you still want to limit it as much as possible."
"Why are you helping me?"
"Because watching you struggle on your own is painful."
Skuld copied a downward swung, twisting her weapon around to strike with the hilt. "But I don't—I'd figure it out. Eventually."
"Yeah, well. Having some 'legendary weapon' doesn't mean you know how to use it. Everyone needs someone to teach them at some point. Figure I can pay it forward. Or at least keep you from accidentally decapitating someone."
Skuld wasn't sure whether to feel grateful or embarrassed, so she just nodded.
(Maybe this was a start. Even if she hadn't figured much out about her Keyblade yet—it was still a sword.)
"Alright. Well. Let's go again. Not like I'm doing much else right now."
Skuld hurried back into position.
-"Pull that rope a little tighter."
Zidane asked, "You're not going to send us over the edge to test it, right?"
Jim smirked. "Would never dream of it."
"See, that doesn't fill me with confidence."
Skuld couldn't quite fight her smile. She redid the knot, tugging on the rope and making sure it was secured to the ship.
"Good job," Jim said, startling her.
Zidane protested, "Nothing for me?"
"You already know how to do these."
"Okay, so one: I'm pretty sure she knows how to make knots, too. Two: Why'd you have me doing them, then?"
"You're being punished, remember? And anyway, making sure you know how to securely tie a lifeline is important."
Skuld ran a thumb along the rope, untying it. "What's next?"
"Right. Next is—"
"Spaceport!" someone shouted, startling the three of them. "Off to port!"
Zidane and Jim both peered over the left side of the ship, and so Skuld followed, leaning over the edge. A world appeared on the horizon, other ships gathering around it.
"Next," Jim continued quietly, "is learning what we do when we stop at an actual world."
Apparently, I have this curse where chapters just keep growing longer than the length I really want them to be. Maybe one day, they'll be more normal.
Anyway! Skuld is having A Time in this chapter—a lot of this was meant to set up some character dynamics and some of the things Skuld is struggling with. She's not new to being a Keyblade wielder, but it certainly FEELS like she is, and she IS new to sailing, so she's feeling very out of her depth. (Plus, she's had very little normal person-to-person interaction, so…you know, that's going to make it hard to figure out what to do, sometimes.)
No new world this chapter, but feel free to take some guesses about what one they're about to stop at.
Also, thank you to Lacan Shinn, James riemer, and AzureSkai for reviewing last chapter. Going to throw the review responses down here:
Lacan Shinn: Glad you think things have improved! And I'm also glad you liked Skuld's characterization; trauma is…it's a very difficult thing to deal with, and often very complex, and I want to explore that a lot with Skuld and how she's trying to deal with things going forward. (Also, yes, the queen is Brahne; not spoilers or anything, Skuld just never actually picked up her name.)
James riemer: Glad you like it so far! Unfortunately there aren't any other Square Enix worlds planned (though there will be a couple of character cameos later from some familiar Final Fantasy characters); I mostly include Gaia because of my love of FF9, haha. Hopefully you like the other worlds that appear, regardless!
AzureSkai: Glad you're excited for it! And glad that the chapters are giving you enough details on Skuld to get a solid understanding of her, haha.