'Falling worlds wasn't something most merchants expected to see.'
Chapter Five: Home, Or Lack Thereof
"You doing alright?"
She blinked, leaning her head back against the wall. She wanted to answer yes, but—she was tired. "Xehanort ran some tests this morning."
She could sense the boys' disapproval, even without seeing them. "What a creep," Lea muttered.
"He wants to help me."
"Yeah, right, if he wanted to—"
"Lea," Isa interrupted.
A frustrated breath. "I'm just saying, if he really wanted to help, he wouldn't be such a dick."
She wanted to protest. She didn't have the energy. "He's just looking into the heart. Memories are supposed to be stored there."
A pause. "Do you want to get those memories back?" Isa asked.
"I think I'm supposed to want it."
"That's not what I asked."
She hadn't really thought about it, before. Xehanort had talked about recovering their memories like it was a given. She'd never really questioned it.
But there were people she was missing. People that were important. And Xehanort— "I think I want there to be—" She broke off; the thought felt too raw and fragile to put into words.
(She wanted there to be people who loved her. She wanted to know where she belonged, and she wanted to know that it wasn't here, inside this cell.
She wanted to know who she was outside of being Subject X, and she didn't think she knew how to put together the fractured pieces into something new. So she had to find the old her, and see if she could try and fit into her skin.
She didn't want to think about the part of her that said it'd be an imposter wearing it.)
"Hey," Lea said abruptly, "when we get out of here, let's go get ice cream."
"Ice cream?" she repeated, baffled.
"Yeah! You know, frozen treat?"
Isa said, fondly exasperated, "You can't fix every problem with ice cream."
"I can fix this one! We'll be making new memories. Better ones. Right?"
She smiled; she didn't think it was forced, this time. "Right."
-"So," Captain Amelia said, almost casually, "would someone care to explain why, exactly, you three were off gallivanting in a smuggler's cave?"
Skuld clenched and unclenched her fists.
Zidane rubbed his neck, tail swishing.
Jim had his head lowered, looking somewhere between mutinous and embarrassed.
Pink flashed behind Amelia.
Skuld's eyes snapped to it.
"Skuld."
She wanted to pay attention—she did—but if the fox was here, then she wanted to find her. Why did she bring me to the keyhole? What does 'Ephemer' mean? Why did my Keyblade react like that?
What does she know?
Amelia stepped in front of her, blocking her view. "I know that you're here to find answers about the Keyblade," she said, "but you are still a part of this crew. As such, you need to act like it. That means helping when we land."
"I—I know. I just—"
Another flash of pink. Skuld craned her neck.
"Do you know?" Amelia repeated skeptically.
"It's not her fault," Jim interrupted.
Skuld's eyes snapped towards him.
Amelia turned, one skeptical eyebrow raised.
Jim lifted his chin. "There was some sort of monster. A—a Heartless, right?" He glanced at Skuld for confirmation.
She was almost too surprised to answer for a few moments. Wordlessly, she nodded.
Jim nodded back; he looked almost as uncertain as she did. "It attacked us. We got there because we were trying to get away from it."
"And because of this weird fox thing," Zidane added. "That's why we went into the cave."
Amelia repeated skeptically, "A…fox?"
Zidane shrugged. "Weird flaming fox. Skuld said we should follow it."
"Zidane," Jim hissed.
"Hey, it got us away from the Heartless, didn't it? Or at least to a place where we could take care of it." He grinned, and went to pat Skuld on the shoulder companionably, but hesitated when she flinched away a little.
"So the Heartless is gone," Amelia repeated.
"Nothing left of it," Zidane agreed with a nod. "Looks like our Keybearer here was worth signing on after all."
"If you need proof," Jim continued, "there are definitely other people in the spaceport who saw it. You can just ask them."
Amelia studied them coolly. "And there were no incidents before this?"
Skuld tried very hard not to flinch. This is it, she thought. What kind of punishment will she give me for disobeying?
"None," Jim said.
Skuld stared at him, wide-eyed.
Amelia took in her expression. A faint smile twitched on the edge of her lips. "I see." She turned back to Jim, serious again. "I'll investigate the report on the Heartless for verification. If it's true, though, I'm not sure I like the implications."
Jim nodded stiffly.
"You three are dismissed." Amelia turned and left.
Jim's shoulders relaxed as he let out a relieved breath.
"Not bad," Zidane said, ribbing him.
"I just told the truth. There wasn't anything to get in trouble for."
Not about me, Skuld thought.
"Huh?"
It took a few moments for her to realize she'd said that aloud. She nearly quailed under both looks. Don't be afraid. You need to be stronger. "You lied. About me."
Jim rubbed the back of his neck and didn't quite look at her.
"Why?"
He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "It just didn't feel worth getting you in trouble over."
"But you were upset, before."
"Yeah, and then we had to fight a Heartless together and you kind of saved us. So I guess we're even."
"But I didn't—we wouldn't have gotten out of there if you hadn't found that speeder."
"I helped!" Zidane interjected.
Jim sighed, but he had a tired smile on his face. "Sure."
"That didn't sound very convincing."
Despite herself, Skuld found a grin twitching on her lips.
Another small spark of pink fire, out of the corner of her eye. She turned towards it in time to see something disappearing over the edge of the ship.
Skuld hurried towards the railing.
Nothing flickered down below.
"See something?" Jim asked quietly.
"The fox," Skuld answered, just as quiet. "Or I thought I did."
Zidane hummed. "Yeah, about that. You seemed awfully sure we should follow it. Some sort of mystic Keyblade wielder thing?" He wiggled his fingers for emphasis.
Skuld shook her head. "The man I was talking to, when you found me. He knew some legends about the Keyblade. A fox was mentioned in one of them. But she was a goddess, not—" Skuld gestured.
Zidane said, "Well, there are all sorts of stories about gods taking weird forms. You sure she's not one?"
"It's—she's—I don't think so."
"How do you know?"
She didn't know how to explain it; something just felt wrong. "I just do."
"Right. So that's the mystic Keyblade wielder thing."
"It led us to a keyhole," Jim said.
Skuld nodded.
"Why? And how did you—what did you do?"
Skuld swallowed. Her fingers tightened around the railing. "I don't know," she answered honestly.
"There's a lot you don't know about this Keyblade wielding thing, huh?" Zidane commented.
Skuld tensed.
Jim scowled at him.
"What? It's true!"
"That's not helpful—"
"I'm looking for answers," Skuld interrupted. "That's why I'm here. You know that."
"Yeah, but—"
Skuld hoisted herself over the railing.
"Wait! Come on, I didn't mean—"
Skuld forced the sound to the back of her mind. Belatedly, she realized hopping over the edge might not be a great idea. Just remember the fight. Do what you did during the fight. She reached for the core of magic, trying to funnel it into her feet. She landed awkwardly, but the magic seemed to soften some of the blow. Her cheeks heated, but she straightened and walked purposefully away from the ship. Amelia didn't assign me anything else, and we aren't leaving just yet. So I should keep looking.
But her mind was still turning, picking over the bits and bobs of information she'd newly collected.
You don't know a lot about being a Keyblade wielder. The thought bounced around her head like an accusation. And it bothered her, because she didn't know. She didn't know what she could do. She didn't know what that keyhole was. She didn't know what the name Ephemer meant or why it felt like it was important.
(And she didn't know why she was so confident it was a name, or why it made her think of dandelions and warmth, or why it made her want to cry.)
She released a frustrated sigh. If I could remember what I was doing, then maybe I could've fought the Heartless better. Maybe I wouldn't feel so nervous. Maybe I would—I don't know. Be better.
She slowed a little. Something ached in her chest, and she tried to ignore it. Just keep looking. Just keep looking, and you can find more information. Find them. Then—then things'll be fixed. Just find who you are, and things will be okay again.
-It was difficult to sleep with so many other people around.
The crew's quarters were crowded when everyone was onboard. The free-swinging hammock felt dangerous, uncomfortable, but Skuld didn't want to complain—not when everyone else seemed to be unconcerned with it. Still, it made something in her itch, and she kept twisting, trying to peer through the darkness and get a better look at whatever else lay in the room.
But she was tired, her eyes and chest aching, and she knew that, eventually, that would either drag her down into unwilling sleep or force her restless legs into movement.
Light flickered in the corner of her vision.
Skuld started. She held her breath.
Another flicker of pink, trailing in front of her.
Slowly, carefully, Skuld turned.
The fox sat in the hammock above her, tail swishing back and forth.
Skuld just stared at her silently for a moment.
The fox tilted her head, then jumped down, bounding towards the stairs.
Skuld barely hesitated before launching herself out of the hammock, bare feet thudding against the floor as she raced after her.
The fox sat on the edge of the deck. If the working crew members noticed her, they gave no sign.
Skuld approached cautiously.
The fox didn't run away, this time.
"Avaritia?" she asked in a whisper.
The fox didn't respond.
Skuld let out a slow breath. "I'm being silly. It was just a story. But," she paused, lifting her head to give the fox an uncertain look, "why did you lead me to that keyhole? What does it mean? And who is Ephemer? And who or what are you? And—" Who am I?
The fox just watched her.
"I saw you in my dreams," Skuld continued. "When I first—after Xehanort. What are you trying to show me?"
"Who's Xehanort?"
Skuld whipped around. Starlight burst into her palms.
Pink fire flashed behind her, disappearing in a snap.
Zidane lifted his hands peaceably, a book tucked awkwardly under one arm. "Whoa, easy."
Skuld took a deep breath and lowered her weapon slowly. Her heart still jack-rabbited in her chest, making her ribcage shudder. "Sorry. I—sorry."
"It's okay. But you didn't answer my question."
Skuld dismissed Starlight after a moment. "He's someone I knew. Once." She turned away, but the fox had already left, and she couldn't help the faint flash of frustration.
"Someone you knew, huh. Someone important?"
"No."
"…You're crying, you know."
Skuld blinked. She raised a hand to her cheek; it came away wet, and she scrubbed furiously at her eyes.
"You know," Zidane continued, faux casual, "yesterday you mentioned something about not being taken again. And when we first met, you panicked about the idea of being in a cell—even though you should've been able to break out of it with your key."
"And?"
"Just curious about the kind of story you have to tell, is all."
"So am I."
She didn't quite mean the words to come out, and she didn't know how to take them back once they had. She bit her tongue and inhaled deeply through her nose.
Zidane hopped on the railing beside her.
Skuld cast him a sideways glance. "Are you sure that's safe?"
"What, worried about me?" He smiled, and it reminded Skuld of—something.
(A red scarf and bright smiles.)
Skuld shifted her attention back over the edge.
Space was endlessly fascinating. The specks of galaxies and glimpses of other worlds kept drawing her gaze to them; her focus would dart between shapes, as if she could imprint of map of them behind her eyes. She wondered where it would take her, if she let it.
"You know," Zidane said, quiet, "I knew this guy once. Well, kid really. He was a bit of a brat. But I guess he had a reason. You see, he didn't really know where he came from."
Skuld tilted her head towards him.
Zidane had his gaze fixed on something across the deck, expression distant. "One day he decided, 'I want to find out who I am. I want to know where I belong.' His crew wasn't happy about it, but—well, you know. Sometimes you've just got to go out and do things for yourself. You just have so many questions about who you are, and no one can answer them." He shrugged. "And it's not that you don't love them, but you need to know."
Skuld's fingers tightened around the railing. "Did he ever find it? Where he came from?"
"You can't just rush the story like that. Where's the buildup? The long, agonizing search of trying to find somewhere to fit it? The trials, the failures?"
"I can tell you're from a theater troupe."
"Teasing? From you?"
Skuld shifted, feeling a little awkward.
"But alright, fine. If you want to skip to the end—no."
Skuld let out a frustrated breath.
"But he did find out where he belonged."
Skuld's eyebrows furrowed. "But I thought you said—"
"That he didn't find out where he came from. That's right. But the two things aren't the same. The thing is, it didn't really matter, in the end. He had people that loved him. A home. That's what was really important. But he couldn't see that until he went out searching."
Skuld stared a moment, then turned her attention back over the railing. "Our situations aren't the same."
"Never said it was me."
"The situations aren't the same," Skuld repeated. "You didn't—he didn't have some sort of legend hanging over his head. He didn't have to worry about what he was supposed to be doing that he'd just forgotten. He didn't—" He didn't run because he had no other choice. "He had someone to go back to."
Zidane was silent for a few moments. "Yeah," he murmured finally, "I guess that's true. I'm guessing Xehanort's not a very nice guy, huh?"
"That's not—" Skuld bit off the words.
"'Not'?"
"It's complicated. It's—" How was she supposed to explain Xehanort to him? How was she supposed to explain the quiet tutoring, the enthusiastic explanations, the testing, the anger, the—everything.
Zidane watched her, just waiting.
"I wanted him to be my friend," she said finally, "and I don't think he was. And I don't understand why."
Zidane didn't saying anything, and Skuld found herself filling the silence.
"He wanted to get our memories back. He was doing everything he could to do so, and I knew that, but I was so tired, and I just wanted to—but what if he was right, and there wasn't another way? He wanted to remember so badly, and I just couldn't do it anymore."
She let her voice fall away. She'd been running away from many of these thoughts since getting out. But she remembered thinking about them a lot more, in her cell:
If I could just hang on a little longer, then maybe—
Why does our friendship seem to be dependent on whether I can help him regain his memories?
Why can't we go back to the way things were?
Why, why, why—
"You don't have any memories."
Skuld started.
Zidane was giving her a funny look. "I thought you just didn't know about the Keyblade, but—you really don't remember anything."
"What—what does it matter?"
"Hey, don't hit me with that thing. I didn't mean anything by it."
She blinked. It took her a moment to realize Starlight had rematerialized and that she'd settled into a fighting position. She tried to dismiss the Keyblade, but couldn't; she forced herself to straighten, but still couldn't help the low, thrumming fear thundering through her chest.
"You don't have to go looking for your memories. If you don't want to."
"I do." I want to find the people in them.
(I want to know I'm not just Subject X.
I want to find the people who love me. The people that I can go back to.)
(Lea and Isa.)
"Alright," Zidane said with a shrug. "But—you know, making your own identity isn't a bad thing. You might not like what you find in your memories, after all." He took the book from under his arm and passed it to her.
Starlight disappeared as the book landed in her grasp, and Skuld stared at it a moment, hand resting on the cover. "This is—that book of fairytales? From the merchant?" She flipped through the pages, scanning hand-drawn pictures, catching glimpses of stories that flashed from the paper. "When did you—?"
"Picked it up before we left. Looked like you were interested in it." He flashed her a grin. "Maybe it can help you figure out the place where you belong, huh?"
Skuld blinked, and for a moment, she didn't see the ship; instead she saw a field full of flowers, the chatter of her friends behind her, red overtaking the sky—
"Hey? Don't space out on me, now."
Skuld inhaled deeply, blinking away the image. "I—thank you. I just—" She paused, frowning.
The red hadn't entirely disappeared.
Zidane's eyebrows furrowed. "This more weird Keyblade stuff?"
Skuld hurried past him.
"Hey, wait!"
Skuld leaned over the railing.
Off to the right, growing steadily closer, was a red and black swirl of energu. It took several moments for Skuld to identify what looked like another world, deep inside the miasma.
Zidane landed beside her. He was deathly quiet for several moments. "That doesn't look normal," he murmured.
"Captain!" Skuld shouted, whipping around.
A couple crew members turned their heads in her direction.
She's—she'd be in her cabin, right now. Skuld sprinted across the deck.
"Woah, hey, wait up!"
Skuld almost shouted at him to stay up here, but she didn't know what she'd have him do (didn't know what she should do), so she swallowed the words and hurried towards the captain's cabin, pounding on the door sharply.
Nothing stirred for several moments.
Skuld knocked again, shouting, "Captain! We need you out here!"
Shuffling came from inside the room. "What is all the ruckus about?" Amelia hissed, swinging the door open.
Skuld hesitated.
(Did she really know if what was going on was a problem? It was just some strange bits of color—it wasn't like she knew everything there was to know about space, after all.
But she couldn't stop thinking about the world that kept falling apart in her dreams.)
"There's something going on with a world. It's—come on." She turned, heading towards the railing and hoping that Amelia would follow.
After a few moments, Amelia's footsteps sounded behind her.
The black and red thing was still swirling around the world, small shapes shifting around it and flicking into and out of visibility.
Amelia stalled beside her. She cursed quietly. "I need all hands on deck!" she shouted, turning.
So it wasn't nothing. But what is it? She exchanged looks with Zidane, then hurried after Amelia.
"Let out the main sheets! I want a couple of people on the cannons and keeping an eye on the skies. Only pick up stragglers if it's safe."
"What's going on?" Skuld asked. "What is that?"
"That," Amelia said, very quiet, "is a falling world."
Skuld stiffened.
"A what?" Zidane repeated, looking vaguely lost.
"Steer us away if possible!" Amelia shouted. "We're close enough that we won't escape it entirely, but we can avoid the worst of the problems." Quieter, she told them, "We don't know why or how it happens. But sometimes, worlds collapse in on themselves. There is nothing left behind, save for monsters." She gave Skuld a pointed look.
"Heartless."
"As it would seem." Amelia turned her eyes towards the collapsing world. "It's not a common phenomenon, but it's been occurring more often recently. I've only seen it twice before, in my lifetime. I'd hoped you wouldn't have to experience it."
"What are we—you said to steer away from it."
"That's right. Falling worlds are dangerous. Even if you don't get caught in their collapse, the remaining Heartless might come and cause damage." Someone rushed past them; Amelia shouted, "You, to the cannons! Let me know if anything comes too close to the ship!"
"Aye, Captain!"
"What happens to the people?" Skuld asked. Something had twisted in her chest; the scene felt almost too familiar, in the same way that Starlight did, in the same way the name 'Ephemer' did, and—
(Don't think about it.)
Amelia went to answer, but her eyes darted away, narrowing at something over the side of the ship.
Skuld followed her eyes, and her heart jumped into her throat.
The world looked like it was starting to break apart at the seams, small bits and pieces peeling away from the surface. Tiny creatures bounced between them; Skuld guessed they were Heartless, and she didn't know why or how they were there, but—
(But she was a Keyblade wielder, and that meant she needed to do something.
Didn't it?)
Something almost like a wave, just barely visible as a ripple displacing floating debris, raced towards them.
"What is that?" Zidane hissed.
"Everyone brace yourselves!" Amelia shouted.
Skuld barely had time to grip the railing before the wave hit them, sending the ship tilting sideways. She squeezed her eyes shut, the energy washing over her and whipping her hair around her face. The book slipped out of her grip and hit the deck; she didn't dare try and pick it up.
Amelia was up and shouting orders before the ship had even fully been righted. "Fasten your lifelines! Anyone who doesn't have a job, keep an eye on the world and report if you notice anything!"
"Zidane!" Baku was gesturing for him; Marcus, Blank, and him looked like they were helping with the sails, Ruby hurrying to join them.
Zidane gave Skuld a quick nod, then darted off.
"Captain," Skuld said, hurrying after Amelia. "There are people on that world."
"There might be. Not all worlds are inhabited. And even if it is, we can't risk getting too close." She caught someone else. "Check lifelines and make sure they're secure."
"But—"
"We cannot save everyone. If we get too close, we risk the ship going down, and that helps no one. The best thing you can do is keep an eye out for anything coming our way." She paused to glance at her, softening her voice. "And secure yourself with a lifeline. I don't want to risk anyone falling overboard."
"But what if—"
"Captain!"
Amelia turned away, hurrying towards the sound.
Skuld clenched her fists and let out a slow breath. For a few moments, she thought of ignoring the advice, but—
Amelia was right. They couldn't safely get to the world.
(Leaving people behind again?)
Lifeline. Secure your lifeline. Skuld forced herself into motion, trying hard to ignore the chaos around her, and grabbed a lifeline. She tied it securely around her waist, countless lessons with Jim flashing through the back of her mind.
"Skuld!"
It took her a few moments to realize the voice wasn't in her head. She turned towards Jim, who was racing towards her with a grim expression on his face.
"A world's falling," she explained, and her voice sounded flat, even to her ears.
Jim glanced out at the darkness and debris. He tied his lifeline silently, tugging on it to make sure it was secure. "The captain give you a job?"
She shook her head.
"Then stay close to me."
Skuld swallowed and nodded, and then they were in motion, Jim leading them across the deck and onto the ship's bow. Another crew member was already there; when Skuld paused to look, she noticed several lined up along the edges of the ship, peering out into space. "Scan for anything weird coming our way," Jim ordered. "Shout if you notice something."
She nodded tightly, hands curling around the railing.
The deck seemed like an odd pairing of motion and stillness. Some people waited at the cannons or watched tensely from their stations, waiting for something to happen. Others whirled about the deck in a blur, adjusting the sails, checking lines, shouting coordinates. They turned away from the world, but they were still close—close enough that Skuld could make out flecks of earth scattering from the gaps. She watched, tense, eyes straining, and felt like she was just waiting for something to happen.
In the nature of these things, it happened too quickly; unexpected, despite her preparation, barely giving her time to blink and breathe before—
(She had seen this before.)
Cannon fire, behind her. She ducked, covering her ears, and they still rung with the impact. Grit scattered over her head, and she hissed, teeth grinding together.
"Got it!"
"Don't get too excited, there's more coming."
"You okay?" Jim asked, and the words sounded like they were coming from a distance, dulled by the ache in her ears.
Skuld grit her teeth and nodded. She straightened, lowering her hands. (They shook. She didn't think she could stop them.)
Jim looked like he wanted to say something more, but didn't, silently turning to focus on the falling world.
Skuld didn't think she could look at it right on. Not quite. Her eyes kept flicking to the spaces right beside it, a restless energy building in her limbs that reminded her of sitting in the dark. She felt like she needed to move—to do something besides just stand here and wait, staring at a world as it slowly wasted away. There was an ache in her chest that said she couldn't just be standing here, there were people there, she needed to do something—
(A blood-red sky. Debris, swirling through the air. Staring off into the distance and feeling like everything was falling down around her.)
A flash of pink. The vague outline of a fox, watching her. Well? she almost seemed to be asking. What will you do?
"We got some debris coming our way!" someone shouted.
"Got it!" A cannon spun around and fired. The molten blast highlighted a rapidly-approaching rock a second before it hit home, destroying it and sending small bits of stone scattering across space.
I could do that. Starlight flashed into her hands.
"More incoming!"
She swung her Keyblade around, heat flaring through her arm as she shot a Fire spell towards it. It didn't quite have the effect she wanted; the rock cracked, but didn't break. Not the only spell, she thought, and changed tactics; her Keyblade flashed, and a purple hue coated the debris and stopped it in its tracks.
A cannon blast destroyed it a second later. She exchanged a look with the crew member manning the weapon, tense.
The crew member stayed silent for several moments. "Think you could do that again?"
Skuld nodded tightly.
"Good. Then let's get on it."
And just like that, Skuld's job shifted. She found herself sprinting back and forth across the ship, going to wherever the debris seemed to be and firing spell after spell.
"Off to starboard!"
She skidded across the deck, Keyblade whipping around.
"And—clear!"
"Bow of the ship!"
Back across the deck, hurtling out of the way of other crew members, skidding haphazardly around someone and trying not to stumble over herself.
"Cluster coming this way!"
Back again, going faster, faster, faster, despite the burning in her chest and the taste of ozone on the back of her tongue. Something wrapped around her ankle—a rope, she'd gotten herself caught on a rope—but someone's arm snapped around her before she could fall.
She'd torn herself free before she could think about what she was doing, nearly falling anyways as she swung her Keyblade.
The crew member stared, wide-eyed.
Skuld stared back, swallowing an apology.
Something exploded. The ship rocked; grit showered her head, and she turned away, shielding her head with a wince.
"Keyslinger!"
Skuld took a half-step away, then turned and ran. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Focus on helping the crew.
Everything became a blur of movement, Skuld hardly stopping for a second to breathe. Occasionally she caught flashes of the others: Zidane and his crew, tugging on the sheets; Amelia at the helm, voice raised to shout orders; Jim standing with some others at the bow and shouting out warnings. Her feet and heart and lungs burned, and her Keyblade felt heavy in her hands, but she couldn't stop, couldn't stop, couldn't stop, pushing herself to go further, spells flashing from Starlight whenever they were needed.
(A world on fire, falling apart, her Keyblade not enough to do anything.)
"Steady!" Amelia shouted. "We're nearly clear!"
Skuld slowed, finally, panting heavily, her legs rubbery with exhaustion. She leaned against the railing, eyes straining as she looked around the edge of the bow.
She couldn't see any debris heading towards them, but that didn't necessarily make her feel better; much of the world seemed to barely exist anymore, what remained drawn into the swirling mass of darkness. Other pieces floated, broken, in the space between. Skuld's eyes caught fragments of buildings, torn up bits of walkways, and—
Something that looked suspiciously like a person, shivering between the rubble.
"There's someone out there," Skuld breathed. Louder, she shouted, "There's someone out there!"
Other members of the crew had joined her in an instant. For once, Skuld was barely aware of them, too focused on the vague shape of someone in the debris.
Amelia cursed quietly. "There's no guarantee they're alive," she murmured. "And they're far enough away that we can't risk taking the ship out there."
"But—"
"I can't risk my entire crew for one person." Amelia's voice was gentle, but firm, and she gave Skuld a sympathetic look that was probably supposed to deter her.
It didn't. Instead, it made something hot and angry flair in her chest. "Then I'll go."
Amelia looked like she'd argue, but a different voice beat her to it: "How? You don't know how to get out there."
Skuld whipped towards Jim, who was approaching through the slowly parting crowd, and tried to stuff down the sharp feeling of betrayal. "Why are—"
"But if we both went," Jim continued, "then we'd have a better chance at getting them, right? I know how to operate the solar sailor and lifeboats. You have a sword with gravity magic."
The betrayal shifted immediately to hope. He was right; she had no idea how to operate any of the ships, and she probably wouldn't be able to rescue the straggler even if she did, but if they worked together—
Amelia said, "I'm going to reiterate: we don't know if they're alive. You might be rescuing a corpse."
"Better than letting a survivor die in space, right?"
Amelia's attention flicked between the two of them, eyes narrowed. After a beat she nodded tightly. "Make it quick."
"Right."
Skuld didn't wait for Jim to give her a cue before untangling her lifeline. Her fingers fumbled with the knots, and it felt like she was going too slow, adrenaline making her hands shake. She'd sprinted away before the rope was even entirely free, hurtling down the stairs and bringing up her mental map of the ship, Jim half a step ahead of her. (They were on a time crunch. They didn't know how long the straggler would have, and they were still close enough to the dying world that they could be injured, and—
And there was something in the back of her mind that said this was familiar. This panic-inducing, jack-rabbit heartbeat that made her feel like she had to move, move, move.)
(A different room, filled with different lifeboats. Something dark and sticky dripping down her back, like magic. A familiar-yet-not voice whispering, "How foolish.)
"We'll take one of the lifeboats," Jim said, and for a moment, Skuld felt disoriented, almost caught in a memory she couldn't quite recall. She shook out of it as Jim continued, trying to remind herself to focus. "It's not as fast, but it'll be easier to transport everyone."
Skuld nodded curtly, then followed Jim's instructions to lower it, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse in her wrists, something almost like the tick of a clock clicking in the back of her head.
The lifeboat rocked underneath her as she jumped into it. Jim followed a heartbeat later, completely freeing the boat from its lines. "Hang on," he hissed, and they plummeted for half a beat before he turned on the thrusters, sending them rocketing out into space. Skuld gripped the side and turned, Starlight flashing into her hand, the Keyblade practically vibrating in her grip. Her eyes remained fixed on the prone form in the distance, growing closer at a rapid pace. Debris started popping up around them, and Jim wove through it expertly, teeth gritted in determination.
A shockwave rippled out from the dying world, followed by a delayed almost-explosion, the sound thundering in Skuld's ears. Jim cursed and tried to steer away, but the shockwave hit their boat directly on, sending them tumbling to the side. Skuld clung tightly to the edge as Jim tried to right them.
The shockwave hadn't just hit them; the straggler tumbled away, heading straight towards a piece of rock.
Skuld swung her Keyblade around as best she could. Zero Gravity.
For half a beat, she thought they were too far away; then a faint purple glow surrounded the person, and they stopped before impact, floating in place. Her shoulders sagged in relief.
Their boat leveled out slowly. Jim had a grim expression on his face, lips pressed flat and eyes narrowed, and he turned the lifeboat back in the direction of the straggler.
They moved slower, now, carefully maneuvering through pieces of debris. Jim's attention seemed split; his eyes darted between the path in front of them and the dying world, as if waiting for another shockwave.
(Skuld didn't think it'd be very good if they were hit again.)
"Hey," Jim said, voice tense, "do you think you can pull them closer?"
Could she? Her Zero Gravity spell hadn't seemed to be able to do it before—but they were out here, now, and she had to try. She lifted Starlight and pointed it at the shape in the distance.
The person didn't move.
Please.
(Something sparked in her chest.)
The purple hue around the straggler began to flicker.
Skuld gritted her teeth. Please, come on.
(Something pulled at her heart, swirling like the remains of a star.)
Starlight flashed. A beam of off-pink light shot from the tip, nearly startling Skuld into losing her grip. The magic struck the straggler and held fast.
(Collision Magnet.)
Cautiously, Skuld tugged her Keyblade back. The straggler came towards her. She pulled harder, trying to navigate them as best she could through the debris. It went slower than she really wanted it to—slower than the spell seemed to want it to, based on how much she had to focus to keep it from dragging the straggler right into a rock—and she could hear her heartbeat thrumming in the back of her skull, something screaming faster, faster, we don't have time—
But it won't do any good if we hurt them while trying to save them.
Gradually, Skuld brought them close enough that she could reach out and grab them, Keyblade dissipating as she shot forward. She gathered the straggler into her arms and pulled, fumbling under their weight as they slid into the lifeboat.
Jim didn't waste time; he turned, steering their lifeboat back to the ship as fast as he reasonably could. "Are they okay?" he asked, voice tense.
"I—I don't know." The straggler was—a boy, it looked like, blood caked onto the side of his head and coating his red-brown hair, his breathing shallow. Skuld found a fluttering pulse underneath her fingertips. Come on. Come on. Think. There has to be something in my memory that can help.
(There was—but it was memories overshadowed by the figure of Xehanort, and touching them made her feel sick.)
Skuld blinked, trying to focus. "I—"
"Skuld?"
(For a moment, she was back in the cell, curled against the wall.
"I need to check for any injuries."
She pursed her lips.
"Subject X."
"There's nothing physical," she spat, and then she winced. "I'm sorry. I—"
"It's stressful. But I still need to do an exam."
She didn't want to. She was exhausted and bone-weary, and the idea of moving made her feel sick, and she just—didn't know if she cared, right now. But she stood, and they went through the motions of the exam, and—)
"Is it your first time seeing—something like this?"
"No," Skuld responded, and she didn't know how she knew that, but it felt right. "But—" She took a breath and looked at Jim. "I know what to do, but—I can't—"
"There are doctors on the ship. You've done enough."
Skuld nodded, but there was bile in her throat, and it didn't feel like enough.
Jim pulled them in, and Skuld hoisted the straggler over her shoulder and tried not to think about his injuries. Jim helped her pull the boy out of the boat, and together they made their way up to the deck.
She'd expected the crew to still be busy trying to get them away from the dying world—and they were. But she hadn't expected them to stop what they were doing to turn and give the three of them their full attention.
Skuld tried to stand tall under it. It's fine, she thought. I'm used to it. I know they think I'm weird. I know—
"Holy shit, you made it back!"
"Thought you two were goners when that wave hit you."
"Gutsy."
"Is the kid alright?"
Skuld blinked, startled at the onslaught. She looked to Jim, baffled, then scanned the crew again. "I—what am—?"
"Alright!" Amelia shouted. "Give them room! I need a medic to see to the survivor. Everyone else, focus on getting us to safety."
The crew dispersed.
The crew's doctor approached them—a large, slug-like man who extended his arms. "Come, come, pass him here. There we go. I'll get him settled and see what we can do."
Skuld and Jim passed the straggler over. Skuld found herself feeling…still wrong-footed, somehow. "That wasn't—they were—?"
"Impressed?" Amelia appraised them both. "You did navigate a field of debris to save someone from a dying world—even if that was reckless." Then her expression softened. "But you both did well."
Something warm built in Skuld's chest—something that almost chased away the memory of Xehanort, still clinging wisp-like to the back of her mind. It welled in her throat and stole her words, but she found she didn't entirely mind, this time.
"Look at you two, playing heroes," Zidane said, appearing above them.
Skuld didn't jump; Jim still did, then turned and shouted, "Do you have to do that every time?"
"Do what?"
"You know—you know what? Never mind."
Skuld stifled a laugh.
"You could've at least waited for me to join you, you know." Before either could respond, he continued, "By the way, you lost this." He tossed Skuld her book.
She fumbled to catch it, pressing it close to her chest.
"Keep that safe, yeah? I didn't go through all the trouble to steal it for nothing."
Amelia narrowed her eyes at him.
"…And by that, I mean that I bought it through totally legally means."
This time Skuld did laugh, and it felt breathless and giddy and relieved, even if there was still a weary ache in her bones. "Thank you."
"We'll still need you on deck until we're completely clear," Amelia told them. "But after that—get some rest. Both of you have earned it."
Skuld nodded. "The survivor. Will—?"
Amelia pursed her lips. "We'll figure out what to do with him."
Skuld figured that was the best she was going to get, so she silently followed Jim to retie her lifeline and take up her post back at the bow.
-The adrenaline faded slowly the further they got from the world. When it did, Skuld noticed for the first time the ache in her legs and arms and the burning, sparking sensation in her chest. She felt drained in a way she hadn't expected to be, exhaustion tugging on her mind and making her feel sluggish.
She thought she should rest, probably. The others had already started to slip away from their posts, going back to work or sliding below deck. But…she didn't move. She thought maybe she didn't have the energy to. (And there was still a small part of her that was warning her to be ready, despite her exhaustion. It had her hands stick to the railing and her chest grow tight.)
"Hey! Skuld, Jim!"
Skuld started, and for the first time noticed Jim hadn't moved from his spot, either.
Zidane was waving from down on the deck, the other members of Tantalus clustered around him. "You two going to stay there all day?"
Jim cupped his hands and shouted, "We can't all slack off!"
"Hey, now. Is that what I get for inviting you to hang out with us? You should feel honored."
"No, thanks. I think I've had enough excitement for one day."
"Ha, ha." Zidane's eyes swiveled to Skuld. "How about you?"
"I—" She blinked, trying to process the request, her eyes flicking over the others.
(Zidane was—not a friend, but friendly. Marcus and Ruby had both helped her. Blank hadn't been upset when she'd disturbed him. She didn't know Baku and Cinna, really, but…
But you thought Xehanort was okay, too.)
"I—can't."
Zidane shrugged, seeming unbothered, and she didn't know how she felt about that. "Suit yourself." He hurried to join the rest of his crew; Blank slung an arm over his shoulder, and the two laughed, the group of them slipping below deck.
Something in Skuld's chest ached.
Jim pushed away from the railing. "I'm going to get some rest. Don't think we're going to have to worry about another falling world for a while." He winced. "I hope."
Skuld nodded.
He started to untie his lifeline, then paused, casting Skuld a curious look. "Are you going to stay up here?"
She hadn't thought about it, really, but— "Yeah. For now."
Jim had an understanding look on his face, though what, exactly, he thought he'd understood, she didn't really know. "See you later, then." He headed away, slipping below deck.
Skuld stayed where she was, staring at the crew. There was a giddy sort of excitement bubbling between them—relief at escaping, maybe, or just joy at a job well-done—and it made her feel strangely off-kilter. She didn't think she could quite feel the same, when—
(A broken world, falling out underneath her.)
Skuld took a breath and pushed away from the banister.
"Hey! Keyslinger!"
Skuld started.
Some of the crew was waving her over.
Skuld hesitated, eyebrows furrowed, then pointed at herself.
"Yeah, you! We got any other people with magic swords on this ship?"
"Well," another member said, "maybe—"
"Shut up, that was rhetorical."
"I—did you—" Skuld faltered. "Did you need something?"
"No, no, just wanted to ask if you wanted to celebrate with us."
Something curled around her chest. "Celebrate?"
"Yeah! Not often you fight a world and win, you know?"
"It's not something to celebrate." The words came out colder than she intended, louder, and once they were out, they kept coming. (It felt like she was making up for all the times she couldn't speak, back in her cell.) "It's not—people died. A world is gone. Whoever that survivor is isn't going to see their friends and family or anyone again and—and why would you want to celebrate that?"
It had gotten uncomfortably quiet. Skuld felt eyes on her again, and her skin itched.
The crew member that had beckoned her closer had grown more subdued. "It's not about that," she said, her expression slowly shuttering. "Look, it's easy to get bogged down in the bad, but you can't go back and do anything to save that world, right? So you might as well celebrate what you can. Takes the sting out of it a bit."
It made sense, in a way. It also made something angry clog her throat and twist in her chest, and she had to turn away quickly, hurrying away through the crowd before she said or did something she'd regret.
(She still heard some comments as she left:
"Well, that was rude."
"Shut up, it's probably her first time seeing something like this."
It's not, she thought, and didn't know how she knew.)
Skuld hadn't meant to go to the captain's cabin, but before she'd really thought about it she'd thrown open the door and stepped inside.
And there was Amelia, staring at her from behind her desk, pen raised as if she'd been writing something.
Skuld stared at her, and tried to figure out what she was supposed to say. In the end she didn't say anything, sliding down against the door and hiding her head in her hands, breathing slowly as she tried to collect herself.
"You know," Amelia said dryly, "this isn't exactly a place for you to visit any time you please."
"Sorry. I just—" She took a deep breath, then asked, "Can I borrow some paper? And a pen? I—I want to write a letter."
"And that's the reason you're curled up on my floor?"
Skuld swallowed tightly.
Paper rustled. A moment later Amelia placed something beside her. "You can stay for now," Amelia said, "but I expect you to return to the crew's quarters when you've had time to collect yourself."
Skuld's words felt like they'd been stolen again, so she gave Amelia a grateful look and hoped she understood.
She pulled the paper closer and found, suddenly, that she wasn't really sure what she wanted to say. The words were all jumbled in her head, sticky with emotions that she didn't quite know how to parse apart. She tapped the pen against her knee, worrying her lip. Just—just write something. Just start with their names.
Lea and Isa,
There. It was a start.
There's a lot I have to—
You know those stories you used to—
I saw a world fall—
She scratched out the words, pen scraping holes in the paper.
Amelia paused her work to give Skuld a curious glance.
Skuld's face heated. Focus. What—what do you really want to talk about?
She thought about it for a few moments, breathing slowly and trying to let some of her chaotic emotions drain away. Then she put her pen to the paper and started again.
I'm looking for who I am.
It wasn't quite what she'd thought she wanted to say, but she found it was easier to go from there.
I found out I'm a Keyblade wielder. It's some sort of magical weapon, I guess? I don't know much about it, yet. I don't even know why I have it, but it feels familiar enough that I think I must've had it from before. Before Xehanort, I mean. It's like I'm part of one of those stories you guys used to tell, remember?
(It didn't really feel like it, most of the time. But she thought it was better not to say that—even if the letter never actually got to them, she didn't want to risk worrying them.)
I have so much I want to talk to you about. I want to talk about the things I've seen, and I want to talk about the Keyblade, and I want to hear stories about—I don't know. Everything you have to tell me.
I miss you. I wish you were here with me.
(She wasn't entirely sure who she was writing to, anymore: to the friends she left behind in Radiant Garden, or to the ones she was still missing.)
We should meet up again, sometime. When I've finally figured things out. I'm on a merchant ship, now. Maybe we'll stop at Radiant Garden and I can visit.
(She tried to ignore how much that made nausea turn her stomach. If she'd stayed in Radiant Garden—if she hadn't taken the offer to escape—what would have happened? Would Lea and Isa have gotten her out, eventually? Would she have eventually summoned her Keyblade and gotten herself out? Or would Xehanort have kept experimenting, and turned her into a Heartless, like the others?)
How are you guys doing? Lea, did you pass that math test you were worried about? Isa, did you convince your parents to let you take in that stray cat?
Did you get my last letter? Did you stay safe?
She stared at the words, a scared, anxious feeling making her chest tight. She sucked in a breath, and it felt like her chest was tighter, so she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to just focus on breathing.
She ended up tearing the paper to shreds without entirely meaning to.
(It was just a letter, anyways. What good could it do?)
-Skuld expected the memory, when she woke up in it, but it left her tense and wary all the same. She didn't know, entirely, when this one was—not yet. So she sat uncomfortably in her cell, and waited, and stared at the door like if she watched it hard enough it would go away.
(She wished, sometimes, that she could just sleep—or that if she was going to dream, it would be of better things, and not of this sickly-sweet memory of a person she wished she'd never met.)
(That was a lie, and she didn't know what to do about it.)
The door opened. Xehanort stood in it, framed by the bright fluorescent lights outside the cell. Skuld winced and squinted.
Xehanort stepped into the cell and shut the door. He didn't say anything, and Skuld's heartrate sped up as he moved. She flinched away from him, and it took her half a moment to realize that she'd actually been allowed to. A later memory, then?
Xehanort flinched a little, too, and Skuld realized: Oh. No. I know what this memory is.
Xehanort crossed the space between them carefully. He reached for Skuld's arm, and she didn't pull away, this time. Carefully he rolled up her sleeve, thumbing over the bruises the restraints had left on her wrists. (She'd torn her skin raw, she remembered, when the machine had first been attached to her chest. She hadn't noticed until later, when she was shivering in her cell.
Xehanort hadn't visited her for days. She remembered that, too, when she was coherent enough to think about it.)
Xehanort let out a slow breath. He set something down beside him, and for the first time she noticed he'd brought a first aid kit. He popped it open, pulling out an alcohol swab and rubbing it over her rough skin. Skuld winced, breath hissing from between her teeth, but she didn't protest; it was better than the machine had been, after all.
"The others had good things to say about your exams," Xehanort said, and his voice was quiet. Detached, almost. "There seems to be no lasting damage to your heart."
It felt like there was, sometimes; like a phantom pain was shooting through her chest, or like something was constructing it every time when of the researchers came close, or like she was going to be sick whenever she caught a glimpse of the table Xehanort had lashed her to.
"And your body is—healing." He wrapped her wrists carefully, but he wouldn't quite look her way.
"Why did you leave?" she asked, voice rough against the back of her throat.
Xehanort started, and when he looked at her, it was with a pained, complicated expression. He seemed…lost, for a moment. Like he had when the test had first ended.
(Skuld had other questions, now. Why did you sound like you were going to say my name? Why did this bother you so much? Why did you keep going with the experiments if you really felt so bad about them?
But—well. She supposed her original question was as good as any.)
"I—" Xehanort broke off and looked away sharply. "I shouldn't have used the machine so quickly. Not on you. I should've run more tests to make sure it was working properly." His expression looked like he was trying to keep it carefully controlled, but emotion bled into his words and eyes, and Skuld wondered if this guilt was legitimate. He turned to meet her gaze, finally, and said, "I'm going to find a safer way to test it."
There were a lot of things she wanted to say to that. That's not an answer, or, The other prisoners didn't deserve it any more than I did, or, Why did you decide to start up again? But her past self had been desperate for company—had thought, maybe, that she'd done something wrong when Xehanort had left—and she knew what she was going to say. She knew, and she couldn't stop herself, no matter how hard she tried to swallow the words, no matter how hard she screamed at herself inside her own mind. "It's okay." The words tasted coppery, torn from between her teeth. "We can—tr—try again."
(What were you thinking? some part of her hissed. You should've fought back. You should've seen the signs. The old you would've done better. Whoever you were before—she wouldn't have gotten stuck like this.
A quieter, gentler part whispered, How could you have known it would end like it did?)
Xehanort's eyes snapped to hers, and he looked so concerned that Skuld half-wondered if he really would've stopped—that if she'd asked, he would've quit running the experiments.
(She didn't know what she wanted the answer to be.)
"Are you sure?"
No, she thought, and felt the echo of a memory in it. "Y—" Her jaw had locked, then, the word lodged stubbornly in her throat, and so she'd nodded mutely and given Xehanort a half-desperate look. (She'd thought that if she agreed to the experiments, Xehanort wouldn't leave her alone again—and he was the only one she had, down here in these cells.) "I—I want—our memories. I want to—find them."
Something like daybreak had flitted over Xehanort's expression, then: something hopeful, clear, bright. "Yes," he said. "I want the same. Perhaps then—" He broke off, going silent for several moments. Skuld wondered what could be going through his mind. "We still aren't going to use the machine again. Not yet. But we'll try something simpler."
(This was how it had started: with a promise. With something that had seemed like it would be easier. With a desperate attempt to connect to someone who was—
-Familiar.)
"I shouldn't have said anything," Skuld whispered, and it took her a moment to realize she was no longer in the memory.
She was—she was back in the field of flowers. The cell had fallen away around her, but she was still in her hospital gown, the fabric itchy and uncomfortable.
Xehanort hadn't left—but Skuld could hear her friends, behind her. They can help me, some part of her thought. They won't let him do anything. Right?
(But a small part of her whispered, What if they don't recognize you anymore?)
"You're never going to remember them otherwise," Xehanort said, and Skuld snapped towards him, fire in her throat. "Tell me, how much have you found?"
"I'm working on it," she hissed. "I—there was a fox. She's been—and there are legends. I'm doing research." She took a breath. "I'm still looking."
"Mm. Half-baked stories and fragments of familiarity. I'm sure they'll be very illuminating." He grinned, a toothy expression she'd never seen on Xehanort's face. "But go ahead. You can continue parading around with your stolen name. I'm sure the person you borrowed it from won't mind."
"Stolen…?"
"From the old you. From the person who was actually friends with these people."
One of her friends said something, bright and cheerful.
Xehanort glanced over her shoulder—and then, to her shock, he responded, voice as muted and muffled as the others. (It sounded like bells, and a quiet nighttime breeze, and the chirp of crickets. It sounded like Starlight, and she didn't know what she was supposed to do with that.)
"Why do you—why can—?"
Xehanort turned to her with a smirk, and the world turned red around her.
No, she thought, desperate. No, no, no, not again, please—
She moved, trying to escape, to get away from the falling world, but—Xehanort was still behind her. Xehanort was still there, not moving, and when she turned, he was floating in space—like the survivor, from earlier, except this time she froze, because a part of her wanted to save him, and a part of her wanted to run, and she didn't know what to do—
(There was something there. The voices of her friends had quieted, mostly, but one broke through like sunlight: "It's okay. You don't have to—it's okay.")
And then the world was falling out from beneath her, and she couldn't do anything at all.
-Skuld's heart slammed against her chest. She woke with a choked gasp, jolting upright and shivering in her hammock. She gripped the sides tightly, forcing herself not to bolt, closing her eyes and just breathing.
The crew snored quietly. Some of the hammocks creaked as they swayed back and forth. Footfalls sounded overhead from the still-active members, and Skuld tried hard not to wince.
She still felt…jittery. Like something was going to spring out of the shadows at her. (Like someone was going to try to drag her back to her cell.)
Her feet had hit the floor before she'd really had the chance to think about what she was doing. She wound her way through the ship's corridors, spiriting through them like a ghost. She didn't entirely know where her legs were taking her, just that it was somewhere that wasn't here.
She hadn't meant to come to the ship's medical room, and yet she found herself standing outside the door, all the same. She wondered if the survivor was doing okay. She wondered if she should check.
(She thought of Xehanort, and of tests, and thought that maybe it was better if she didn't.)
"Uh. Hey?"
Skuld whipped around.
Jim stood awkwardly behind her, giving her a wary look, like he half-expected her to lash out at him.
(She thought that, maybe, that was a justified concern.)
Skuld let out a slow breath. "Hey."
"You came to check on him too, huh?"
"No. I—" She glanced at the door. "I just needed something to do." She took a breath and stepped aside. "You can go in."
"Uh. Right." Jim didn't move right away, and Skuld…didn't think she wanted to stick around too much longer and explain what, exactly, she was doing up. She turned to leave, prepared to make another circuit of the ship, but—
"You said you'd seen people injured, before. Badly, I mean."
For some reason, that was enough to halt Skuld in her tracks.
"Is that why you…?" Jim broke off, gesturing helplessly at her.
Skuld swallowed and stared, and for several moments, she didn't know what to say. She thought she shouldn't say anything at all, but instead she whispered, "I don't know."
Jim didn't look like he knew what to do with her answer. He looked from her, to the door, and then back again. "Do you want to go in with me?"
She hadn't been expecting the offer, and it made her almost want to cry. "I—no, but—could you tell me how he's doing?"
The ghost of a smile flitted across his face, and he nodded. He looked like he might've wanted to say something more, then shook his head and entered the room.
Skuld hovered there a few moments, just staring at the door. She wanted to—to talk to him, she thought. The survivor. She wanted to ask—she didn't know. She just felt like it was important, something like grief winding up her throat and squeezing her windpipe. With a quick shake of her head she turned, heading purposefully in the opposite direction.
Her restless legs took her onto the deck, then back below, then to the deck again, pacing so much that she felt like she was going to wear holes through the wood. A couple of crew members cast her curious looks, but none actually stopped her, and she was grateful for that.
She was on her third lap of the ship when someone cleared their throat. "You know," Amelia said casually, "if you need something to do, I can find you a job. But you'd be better served resting."
Skuld slowed, but she wasn't sure she wanted to; her legs shook slightly with withheld adrenaline, her fists clenched so tightly her nails left indentations. "Sorry. I—sorry."
"No need for apologies. Nights after an event like that can be stressful, for most people."
She didn't think 'stressful' was quite the right word—and she didn't know quite what it meant, that so many of her nights were like this. "The survivor. What are—are we—will he stay here? With us?"
Amelia stayed silent for several moments. Then she sighed, shoulders sinking a little. "No," she said. "We can't afford to cart about stragglers—and even if we could, we don't have the equipment necessary to help him. We're going to take him to—well, a very special world, I suppose. We'll likely be able to get him better medical care once they get there."
Skuld furrowed her eyebrows.
Amelia gave her a tight smile. "I suppose it's time to show you what happens after a world falls."
I was going to joke that this chapter was the first casualty of my long-windedness, but…that's only half true? Originally, I planned to have this chapter and the next one combined so that I could focus on all of the fallen world stuff in a single chapter. The initial plan was to have the 'crew get away from the falling world and rescue a straggler section' be much smaller—and then I actually got to that part, and it ended up expanding. Which…actually wasn't that much of a problem, page-length wise. What DID end up being a problem was it made the second half of the chapter feel very disjointed from the first half; it felt like the falling world section kind of took most of the chapter's focus, and it meant that trying to include the second half…made it feel like I was trying to squeeze too much into one chapter. In the end I decided to split things into two so that I could give the story space to breathe. …Which means that the chapter count for this has now gone up by one. We'll…see if it expands any further beyond my original outline.
The survivor, by the way, is actually from a Disney world! It's not from a movie that currently has a KH world, though; I'd wanted to find a way to incorporate the world somehow, but I couldn't make it work with the current outline…and then realize that I DID need a world to fall… Anyway, I don't think my hint to which world it is was a very good one this chapter, but I'm curious if anyone can guess.
Also, thank you Lacan Shinn and batmanuchiha for reviewing last chapter! Review responses:
Lacan Shinn: I'm glad you liked how I handled the fight scene! I was honestly pretty nervous about it; it's been a while since I've written and extensive fight scene, so I definitely wasn't sure how well I handled this one. I think I probably didn't explain what I meant in my author's notes super well; Skuld's not actually going to be chasing Ava across a bunch of different worlds (she's kind of stuck on the ship, for the moment). I just meant that I kept the idea of fox!Ava being a kind of guide (within the worlds they visit, at least). And the Heartless was one I made up specifically for the story! While some of the general 'mob' Heartless that appear will be ones from within the game, any 'bosses' I'm trying to make unique.
batmanuchiha: Thank you! I'm glad you're liking it so far!