'Skuld gets answers, of a sort.'

Early update, since tomorrow is going to be...pretty hectic.

Chapter Seven: Letters

"Absolutely not."

Skuld reeled back. She hadn't exactly expected a resounding agreement, but she'd figured she'd at least be able to argue her case rather than being given a flat denial.

Amelia took in her expression, and hers softened but didn't waver. "I told you when you joined us: this is a merchant ship. We've already detoured too far off course—for an understandable reason, certainly, but the fact remains that we're several days behind. If you want to pursue this, you have to go your own way."

I have no way to get there, she thought. I have no idea where this place even is. I don't know how to navigate the stars, or all there is to know about world travel, or—anything.

She could feel Amelia staring at her. She thought she was probably expected to make a decision, and unfortunately, she knew there was really only one to give.

(Well—more than one, if she decided to stay here in Traverse Town. This place felt more like home than any other one had. But—well. It wasn't home, and she didn't think she could stand just waiting here, not having answers, no matter how comforting it was to have people around her who understood.)

Skuld curled her fists and nodded tightly.

Amelia appraised her. "We'll leave in the morning," she said. "The doctor has passed care of the survivor over to the residents of this town—friends of yours, it seems." She raised an eyebrow.

Another nod.

Amelia seemed like she would say something more, then sighed and shook her head. She turned and left, leaving Skuld to stand there in the streets, uncertain about what else she should do.

-"We're leaving tomorrow," Skuld said quietly.

She felt like there was lots she had to do—lots of people she had to see, and to thank, and to say goodbye to—but she thought Taran should be the first one of that group. He was, after all, the reason they were here in the first place.

Taran was propped upright in his bed, watching her with a sort of uncertain expression. "I'm staying here," he said, careful.

Skuld nodded.

"And you're not."

It wasn't a question, but Skuld answered anyways: "No."

Taran seemed to consider that a few moments, eyes darting about like he was rolling the words around his head.

"The people here—they'll be good for you."

"I think they were good for you, too."

Skuld laughed, and the sound was a little brittle. "I don't know. You've barely gotten to speak to me—how can you tell?"

She'd expected Taran to give an uncertain answer, full of stammering and posturing. Instead, he leveled a look at her and responded with confidence: "Because you've lost a lot, too. I know that much; you told me." Taran went very quiet, but it was a sort of silence that spoke of more to come, and so Skuld stayed still, waiting for him to find his words. "When the Horned King created his monster-maker," he said, "and everything went wrong, I didn't know what to do. I tried to save everyone, but I couldn't; not even the Horned King could control those things. And the other people here—some of them have talked to me about feeling that way, too. About how helpless they felt when—" He broke off, stuttering over the words, then seemed to rally himself. "It's nice to have people who can talk to you about it. That's all."

Skuld tried to focus on the sentiment, but her mind had stuttered to a halt on the words monster-maker. "Did you—?"

"What?"

Skuld stared at him for several long moments, then looked away sharply. "Nothing." (It couldn't be another machine. It couldn't. It had to be a coincidence.

…Right?)

-Stepping back onto the ship made Skuld feel strangely off-kilter. She rocked a little and glanced back at Traverse Town. Through the gate, she thought she could make out a few people watching from the streets. She couldn't quite bring herself to wave; she hadn't even entirely been able to force herself to say goodbye. She thought, though, that maybe they understood.

"Hey," someone grumbled, "are you going to stand there all day?"

Skuld flinched, then stepped aside, allowing more of the crew members onto the ship. She rested her hands on the railing, pointedly ignoring the others as they boarded. There was a sort of restlessness, deep inside her chest, and it took a moment for her to realize that being on the ship made her feel trapped in a way that being in Traverse Town didn't. Like a cage, she thought, and it felt ridiculous, because the ship was designed to travel between worlds; she should feel free, able to go wherever she wanted. But I'm not, she thought. I don't know enough. Not just about the Keyblade—about any of this. And just running blindly through other worlds isn't going to teach me.

There was an anxious part of her that said she didn't have time to learn—that what was important was finding out more about the Keyblade, her past, her friends. But she was limited in what she could do, and, well—she was here. And she would be here for the foreseeable future. So, she supposed, she might as well make use of it.

She pushed away from the railing, forcing herself not to look back at Traverse Town, and purposefully went to find Jim.

He was with some of the crew, helping unfurl the sails. (And it dawned on her then that she hadn't been asked to help; that the crew gave her a careful berth, casting uncertain looks her way. She tried not to think about it.) "Jim?"

Jim started, then glanced down at her from the boom, eyebrows furrowed.

"What can I do?"

"Uh, you can—there's not really much, since you still need practice with this stuff." He must've seen something in her expression, because he added, "Just wait there and I'll be down in a minute."

She nodded, then retreated to the railing again. She self-consciously crossed her arms, watching the crew in motion, working to get them ready to sail. Amelia shouted orders, but every now and again she felt the captain's eyes on her. She thought there was a question there: What will you do?

Skuld lifted her chin, even if Amelia never lingered long enough to hold her gaze. Better. She inhaled slowly. One step at a time.

The ship jerked into motion. Other crew members tugged on the sheets, and Jim climbed back down the mast, landing heavily and jogging over to her.

Skuld pushed away from the railing and straightened. "I want to—I want to learn."

Jim's eyebrows slowly furrowed. "Yeah…?"

"I want to—teach me how to use the lifeboat. Teach me how to work the sails, and interact with people on other worlds, and—" She cut herself off and gave Jim a serious look. "Teach me."

Jim didn't look any less confused. "You're serious?"

She nodded.

"…Why?"

Skuld faltered.

"Look, not that I mind. It's just—you've always been more concerned with the Keyblade thing than with helping out with the crew."

Skuld didn't know if her explanation would help her case that much. Because I can't keep waiting. Because I still feel like I'm trapped, and I don't want to be. Because I need something to put myself into so that I don't think too much about what I've lost. In the end, she said none of that. Instead, she said, "Because I need to."

Jim still didn't look like he entirely understood. "Okay, well—you'll still need to help with all the chores and stuff."

She swallowed and nodded. "Okay."

"Like—swabbing the deck and doing the dishes."

It felt like the echo of a conversation, almost—like he was trying to mimic someone else. She wondered if it was that pirate he'd mentioned; the one that had left. "What do you want me to do first?"

Jim faltered. "You can—you can swab the deck."

Skuld nodded, and found a mop and bucket, and got to work.

-"I want to send a letter."

Amelia raised an eyebrow.

Skuld shifted, trying not to feel too out of place in the captain's cabin. "I—how do I do that?"

"You'd drop it off at the next port," Amelia said, still giving her that scrutinizing look. "If you'd like a response, then you'd have to include the return address as one of the ones further on—though mind, they have to be ports that are aware of other worlds."

"Okay. What are those?"

Amelia studied her a moment, then pulled a sheet of paper closer. She scrawled something across it; Skuld craned her neck to see, and caught addresses of places she'd never heard of before.

She reeled back when Amelia shoved the paper in her direction. "Here. A list of stops we'll be making and where you can have the recipient send their response to." She pulled the list back as Skuld went to take it. "I'm assuming this is for that fellow from Atlantis you wanted to visit so badly?"

She swallowed the sudden bubble of anger and forced herself to stay calm. "There's nothing wrong with writing a letter. It won't disrupt anything."

Amelia watched her. "It won't," she agreed, and passed the paper to Skuld. "You may borrow some paper for the time being, but I suggest you pick up some of your own supplies at the next port. All crew members are given a stipend. Use yours."

Skuld recognized the dismissal for what it was and retreated with a dip of her head.

Outside the cabin, she took a moment to steady herself, trying to ignore the way her knees knocked together. Okay. This is—it's a step forward. I can do this. It wasn't, she supposed, quite as intimidating as trying to flag down strangers—but she wasn't even entirely sure this would work. Will my letter get there? Will he respond? What if he can't tell me anything?

…Just write the letter. Worry about that later.

Skuld found herself hiding out in the crew's quarters, shoved as far away from everyone as possible. Answers. I can finally get answers. I can finally find out who these people are and what the Keyblade's supposed to be used for and—

Just write.

She took a moment to steady herself, then began:

To Preston B. Whitmore,

Hello. My name's Skuld. You don't know me, and I don't really know much about you—

Skuld paused, frowning. She almost—almost—scratched it out to start over, but forced past her uncertainty and kept writing.

But I found something you wrote in a place called Traverse Town.

After a brief moment's hesitation, she pulled out the charred and fragile papers, placing them beside the letter to transcribe them.

You know about Keyblades. I don't know much about them, but I have one. I want to learn more, if I can. Please—if you have anything to share, could you send it? She paused, then added quickly, Especially about Ephemer and Brain. She swallowed, tapping her pen against the paper. I don't have a lot that I can offer you in return—but I can tell you what I know about using a Keyblade.

(She thought about adding more. About how she was desperate to find out more about where she came from. About how she was supposed to find this place, 'Scala ad Caelum.' About how she felt like she was trying to put together a puzzle without all the pieces. But so many of those thoughts still felt too raw and vulnerable, so she left them out.)

Skuld signed the letter, then folded it, sticking it in an envelope and scratching the address onto the back.

-This was only the second time Skuld had actually stepped onto another world to help with merchant-related tasks—and the first where she actually intended to stick with the crew the whole time. The idea made her nervous in a way that searching for answers hadn't.

The world was—tropical, almost, if a bit dark. There were people already hurrying around the spaceport, the crowds large enough that the idea of stepping into them made Skuld's shoulders hitch. She found herself drawing away almost instinctively, arms shaking.

Something warm brushed against her leg.

Skuld nearly jumped away from it; it took her a second to recognize the fox, sitting beside her and blinking warmly.

After a few hesitant moments, Skuld opened her arms.

The fox's ears twitched, and Skuld could've sworn she looked surprised; after a heartbeat she accepted the invitation, and Skuld pressed her face into her side, just breathing slowly. It'll be okay. It'll be okay.

It took her a maybe too long to realize the rest of the crew had gone on ahead and that Jim and Zidane were staring at her expectantly.

Her grip tightened on the fox a little. "I—we can go now."

Jim studied her. "You know," he said, "if this makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to do it."

"No. I—I promised that I'd help when—"

"That's not what I meant. I mean that there's easier stuff to do—like loading and unloading supplies. You can let the rest of us handle buying supplies and stuff."

Skuld hesitated.

Zidane gave her a scrutinizing look. "But you want to find out more information on the Keyblade, right?"

She noticed the way Jim tensed and tried not to wince. She knew why—her quest for answers had gotten them into lots of trouble already—and so she rapidly shook her head. "I—yes, but that's not—I have a letter to send. And Captain Amelia said I should buy some things…?"

Zidane and Jim exchanged glances. Then Zidane grinned. "Tell you what," he said. "Why don't you stay here and help unload for the morning? Then we'll come back for you later to help with shopping. We can scope out areas where things aren't so crowded."

Skuld's throat tightened and her eyes burned. "I—you'd do that?"

"Sure, it's no skin off my back."

Jim nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I—that's—thank you." Skuld gave them a broad grin, something tight unraveling in her chest. She took a few awkward steps back, then darted away, heading back to the ship to help unload.

It dawned on her, abruptly, that she didn't know exactly where to start. The cargo hold. That's where everything is—but I don't know what to unload.

Which means I need to ask one of the other crew members.

She tried not to grimace at that. The rest of the crew was busy, it seemed, all of them flitting about, already fully in motion. Skuld ducked awkwardly around one and stumbled out of the way of another, eventually making her way towards a crew member holding some sort of list.

The crew member didn't notice her at first, muttering under her breath, "Fabric, spices—fruit? Hah, hope we're dropping that off at the next port."

Skuld cleared her throat. "Excuse me?"

The crew member continued mumbling, squinting at the paper.

Skuld tried again, louder: "Excuse me?"

The crew member's attention snapped towards her.

Skuld watched as her expression shuttered and tried not to pull back.

"Thought you were Jim's charge," the crew member said carefully. "Shouldn't you be with him?" She gave an uncertain look at the fox, still in Skuld's arms.

"I—he sent me to help with loading and unloading."

The crew member studied her a few moments. "The stuff we need unloaded's near the front. Can't miss it."

Skuld nodded and darted below deck.

The fox jumped free, watching calmly from near Skuld's feet.

The crates were right there, waiting to be carried up onto the deck. She considered her options for a few moments, then summoned Starlight. I need more practice, she thought. If I do it this way—then I can make progress, even when I'm doing busywork.

Her Keyblade glowed with a Zero Gravity spell. The crates floated, and she nudged them up onto the deck, mentally trying to keep track of the time the spell was up. The fox trotted after her, and the spectacle drew stares. Skuld's face heated, but she tried to ignore it. Just make sure everything gets unloaded. Just—just focus on the task. It's okay. It's okay.

No one approached her as she got the crates off the ship. They gave her a careful berth, even as she renewed the spell and then released it. But she thought she heard someone mutter, "Well, that's one way to do it," and it eased something in her chest.

-Shopping was…a bit of an adventure. True to their word, Jim and Zidane had come back to collect her; the two walked on either side of her, just a couple steps ahead, and it took a moment for her to realize that they were helping to ward people away.

She was grateful in a way she didn't entirely know how to express.

Zidane's eyes kept straying back to the fox, watching as it trotted happily behind them. "So," he said slowly, "I don't suppose that means something weird is going to happen?"

Skuld gave the fox a cursory glance. "I don't think so," she murmured. "I think she's just here because she wants to be."

Zidane looked a little uncertain, but he didn't argue.

"You sure?" Jim asked, faux casual. "You don't want to head out and look for Keyblade stuff?"

Skuld thought about the letter in her pocket and shook her head. "No. I—I'm good."

Jim studied her carefully; she wondered what he was looking for. "You're really—" He broke off, then shook his head. "Never mind. So, what were you looking for?"

"Paper. Envelopes. A pen."

"That's it?" Zidane asked, sounding exasperated. "Come on, we can get you more than that."

Skuld bit her lip. "I—I don't know."

Zidane snapped his fingers. "A bag."

Jim sighed. "Zidane."

"What? She needs something to carry everything in! Besides, it's better for keeping things safe."

That did sound…useful. "I—I guess that's a good idea. Where would we find bags?"

Zidane grinned. "I know a place."

He led the way into the market, and Skuld found her shoulders turning in, her head lowering as they stepped into the throng. Breathe. Just—breathe. You aren't alone this time. You can do this. It's fine.

They reached a stall with several options hanging off hooks—some large, some small, some with bright colors and designs, others more plain looking.

Zidane gestured. "Take your pick."

"There's…a lot."

Zidane looked almost like he'd protest that, then snapped his mouth shut and seemed to think better of it. "Yeah," he murmured. "I guess there are."

Jim looked vaguely confused.

Skuld tried not to focus on them. She turned her attention to the bags, eyes flicking over them. I can just choose whichever one I want. That's really—okay. Okay.

The choice wasn't quite as paralyzing as she thought it'd be; she ended up drawn to a bag hanging close to the edge. It was a little thread-bare, darkly colored and plain—enough that it wouldn't stand out too much in a crowd. It wasn't anything exciting to look at, but it was hers, that she'd chosen for herself. She hadn't realized just how much that'd mean until she had it in her hands.

(And it dawned on her, then—this was something she could do, now. Xehanort had taken away everything that was hers before, save her Keyblade. She'd barely had time to stop and think and breathe since getting out, pushing herself onward from one thing to the next, just trying to figure out who she was and what she was supposed to do. But—she could do anything, once she learned how. She could own things. If she could stay away from Xehanort, then—)

"You doing okay?" Zidane asked carefully.

Skuld nodded rapidly. "I—yes. Can we keep looking?"

He grinned, and they headed further into the market.

(If she picked up a couple of charms for the two of them as thanks—well. That was her business.)

-Skuld had asked for this. She'd asked for it. And yet, sitting in the lifeboat, hand on the rudder, made her feel somewhat on edge.

Jim looked less uneasy, if only because he seemed to be busy checking the lines and making sure everything was okay.

Zidane sat across from her, watching with a thoughtful look.

Skuld fidgeted a little, fingers tapping uneasily against the side of the boat.

"Nervous, huh?"

Skuld started.

Zidane gave her a lidded look, then shrugged. "Can't be too hard after learning how to use a Keyblade, right?"

"I—I guess."

The boat rocked a little as Jim jumped into it. Skuld steadied herself, grimacing.

"Alright," Jim said. "Everything looks good. So we're going to take this nice and slow, okay?" He gave Zidane a sidelong look. "Without disruptions."

Zidane grinned.

Jim just sighed and shook his head. "Alright. First thing's first—we've got to untie the lifeboat and lower it."

Skuld nodded tightly, ignoring her nerves as she followed Jim's lead, allowing him to guide her until they'd started lowering the boat into space.

"You're going to unfurl the sail," Jim continued.

Skuld reached for it, fingers twitching.

"Careful, careful—"

The sail snapped open, startling all of them.

"You know," Zidane commented dryly, "maybe repeating 'careful' wasn't really that helpful."

"Great. Thank you. That's helpful input."

"Just doing my job."

Skuld's fingers ran along the edge of the sail nervously. She cleared her throat and glanced at Jim expectantly.

"Uh, right." He gestured for her to sit on one side, and she obeyed, fingering the rudder nervously. "This," he said, pointing towards a lever, "will control your speed. And this," he patted the rudder, "will help you control what direction you're going in." He swung a line around a winch on the boat's side. "The sail works a little like the ones on the main ship." Something uncertain must've shown in her expression, because he continued, "Don't worry about that too much yet, okay? Zidane can handle it."

"Hey, now."

Skuld nodded, biting her lip.

Jim shifted, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Alright. So, uh. I'm just going to release us, and any time…"

Skuld took a steadying breath. It'll be fine. It'll be fine. I have to learn how to do this if I want to get anywhere. Cautiously, she pushed down on the throttle.

The boat jerked into motion. Jim gave a startled ooph! as he was knocked into the mast. Zidane scrambled for the line. Skuld panicked and jerked back on the throttle, jolting them to an abrupt halt and sending all of them sprawling. "I'm sorry," she breathed, scrambling to her knees. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright," Jim said, breathless. He waved her concerns away. "It's alright, just—let's start a little slower."

Skuld nodded, cheeks heating, and pushed herself back into position.

"Okay. So gently this time."

Gentle. Gentle. Skuld screwed her eyes shut and pushed the throttle.

The boat started moving—slowly, slowly, just a crawl at first, then gradually gaining momentum.

"Ease up a little. Good. Okay." A pause. "You're going to need to open your eyes, you know."

Skuld squinted them more tightly closed for a moment. Then, reluctantly, she pried them open.

Her breath caught. They weren't that far away from the ship, but somehow it still felt like the world had opened up in front of her. Spirals of stardust weaved through the sky, reflected almost like water. Bits and pieces of rock appeared on the horizon like islands. Something moved in the distance—far enough away that it wouldn't be a threat to them, but close enough to hear its eerie song. Skuld thought about stretching her hand out and running it through the open space around them, just to see what it felt like.

Zidane asked, "Pretty amazing, huh?"

"Yeah," she breathed.

(For a moment, it wasn't Jim and Zidane in the lifeboat with her. For a moment, Lea and Isa were there instead, helping her make plans on where they should go.

"Hey, Isa, bet you can't catch one of those things!"

"No, because one of us has to have some sense of self preservation."

"Where are we going?" Skuld asked in an almost-whisper.

"Anywhere you want.")

"But you do have to steer, you know."

Skuld blinked out of the image and realized, abruptly, that Zidane and Jim were staring at her expectantly. "Right," she said sheepishly, reaching for the rudder.

"Don't be so nervous," Zidane told her. "You've got help, right? That's what we're here for."

It did make her a little less tense—if by only a small amount. "Yeah," she agreed. "Yeah, okay."

-"Skuld, huh?" The post master rubbed his chin. "One moment."

Skuld craned her neck, trying to get a better look.

"R.L.S. Legacy was the ship?" the post master asked, clawed fingers ticking through a bundle of letters above his head.

"Yes."

He grunted an acknowledgement and pulled down a stack, then flipped through the letters, mumbling, "Artie, Marge, Keagan—ah, here. Skuld." He picked the letter out and passed it to her.

Skuld's breath caught in her throat and she practically snatched it away. The post master made an affronted noise, but Skuld barely had the presence of mind to remember to call, "Thank you!" before she'd scurried out the door.

She nearly ran into someone when she came out of the post office. She skidded around them, offering a mumbled apology when they shouted, "Watch it!" Magic pooled in the soles of her feet, and she launched herself up the side of the R.L.S. Legacy without bothering with the gangplank. A couple of crew members started when she hit the railing, one of them dropping a crate and cursing quietly.

Zidane hurried to help the frustrated crew member. "You look like you're in a hurry."

"Got a letter," she answered breathlessly, then disappeared below deck.

The crew's quarters wasn't empty, but it was quiet enough that she didn't think she'd be interrupted; most of the crew had departed the ship, either to help transport goods or mingle with people on the world. Skuld shoved herself against a wall, hands shaking as she stared at the letter.

This was it. Right now, she might be holding answers to some of her most sought-after questions in her hands. She took a steadying breath and forced herself to open the letter carefully. Light. I need light. She frowned in thought, then called Starlight. With a quick flash of concentration the Keyblade emitted a faint glow, and she held it awkwardly in one hand to help her read:

Miss Skuld,

I must admit, your letter took me by surprise! It's been a while since I've heard anything about the Keyblade—probably longer for some of the people in Scala ad Caelum than in Atlantis. I think you guys are on a quicker time cycle than we are.

But that's right—you said you have a Keyblade, but you don't know much about it, so I'm guessing you don't come from Scala, eh? That's real interesting—not necessarily in a bad way, mind you. It's just that most of the Keyblade wielders I met were residents there—and you're name's pretty peculiar, all things considered. How about you tell me a little more about how that came to be as a start, eh?

But right, right, you sent to ask me about Scala and the Keyblade, so I suppose I should answer. That bit of writing you found was from my first visit. I'd decided to go on an exploration of the worlds, you see—everybody thought I was crazy, talking about other worlds, but I found this journal—or, well, more like a collection of letters bound in a book—that spoke of hidden places and magical weapons and—well, anyways. The point is that I got everything set up, gathered a crew, and set out. I stayed in Scala for a while to try and learn more from some of the most experienced world travelers in the universe. It's really a beautiful place—lots of gardens, huge stone buildings, colorful decorations. They've got an ocean, too, with tons of island-bound cities. Not all of them are inhabited, though, but no one could tell me why.

Let's see—you asked about Master Ephemer. He's a historical figure to the Keyblade wielders of Scala. The stories say he survived the fall of his original world and built it back up from nothing. He's the one who created the Keyblade order in the first place. Scala ad Caelum basically became a world hub and safe refuge for travelers. There were a lot of legends about him at one point, though Master Brain dispelled some of the mystique, I think.

Master Brain is—well, he's a well-respected figure in Scala's society. Or was? Don't know if he'd still be alive at this point—like I said, different time cycles. Supposedly there was something written down in this 'Book of Prophecies' that said he'd show up in Scala ad Caelum at one point. Apparently knew Master Ephemer, if you can believe it! I'd say it's hogwash, but most people said that about world travel, too, so who am I to judge? Anyway, he and some of the upper echelon of Scala didn't seem to always get along, but they respected him enough to let him do his own thing. I got to talk to him, at one point; he seemed happy to ramble about Keyblades and Scala and how things worked.

But I'm rambling. If you have more questions, please send them—this was a pleasant surprise, and I enjoyed being able to go down memory lane a bit. It'd be nice to hear more about what's been going on since my younger days.

Preston B. Whitmore

Skuld read the letter once, twice, three times, only stopping when her arm began to ache from holding up her Keyblade. She let Starlight rest beside her and gradually realized that she was smiling. She laughed, a giddy and excited thing, pressing the letter to her forehead.

One letter. A single sheet of paper, and yet it was so much more than she thought she'd get. But I still have so many questions. If the names Ephemer and Brain are familiar—did I learn about them? What does he mean by 'time cycles'? Why did he bring up my name?

If Scala ad Caelum was so important, why hasn't anyone mentioned anything about it?

…Paper. I need paper.

Starlight disappeared, and Skuld patted the ground around her, then shot to her feet, scrambling through her meager belongings until—there. Paper and pen. She pressed the paper flat against the floor and scrawled a letter as best she could:

Mister Whitmore,

Thank you for responding. I wasn't even sure my letter would get to you.

I don't know how I have a Keyblade. I just summoned it one day while fighting Heartless—those are monsters. They used to be people, once, but they…fell? Something bad happened to their hearts. The details are a little hazy. A lot of it is—that's why I'm looking for answers.

What's weird about my name?

You said there's a Keyblade order? What was it like? And with Brain—what did he tell you? If Scala ad Caelum used to be a world hub, then why haven't I heard of it? Please—I'd like as much information as possible.

Skuld

She folded the letter and found an envelope. Our next port is— She paused, reconsidering. Our next other-world-friendly port is Turo. That's where I can have him send the letter to.

She shoved the letter into an envelope and darted back onto the deck.

"Exciting letter?" Zidane asked, sounding faintly confused.

"Yes," she said, turning and flashing him a bright grin.

Zidane searched her expression. After a moment he smiled back, flashing her a thumb's up.

Magic crackled through her legs, and she hopped back over the edge of the ship.

Someone shouted behind her, somewhere between exasperated and amused, "You could take the gangplank!"

-"What are time cycles?"

"Nobody told you about those?" Jim asked.

Skuld tugged on the sheets. "You're teaching me."

"Yeah, Boss," Zidane said, grinning. "Why haven't you taught her these things?"

Jim rolled his eyes. "I don't think I like you two ganging up on me. And why aren't you helping?"

"I am. I'm supervising."

"Wow, that's real great. Hey, why don't you supervise while swabbing the deck?"

"Oh, come on—"

"Time cycles?" Skuld prompted. She glanced at the sails, then tied the rope to the winch.

Jim glanced up and gave her an approving nod. "Each world runs on its own time," Jim explained. "It's not going to be consistent across worlds—or even out here in space. Time cycles are what we use to keep track of everything."

"How different are time cycles across worlds?"

"Depends. Sometimes things will differ by just a few minutes. Sometimes by years or decades. You've just got to know which time cycle a world's running on." Jim gestured for Skuld to follow, and she obeyed dutifully. "A ship's captain has to keep track of all that when they sail. They have to make sure that they're arriving at each port at the right time for that world. It can be a lot."

"Yeah," Skuld said, blinking as she tried to process it. "So…say someone from one world visited another place years ago. How—how off would their information be if they were on really different time cycles?"

"Like I said, it depends. Could be pretty off if the time cycles between worlds are too different—but that'd also depend on how prone that world is to change, too."

"…What about a world that no one seems to have ever heard of?"

Jim gave her a scrutinizing look.

"There's—I heard about this world hub called Scala ad Caelum. But none of you have ever talked about it."

Jim's eyebrows furrowed. "Never heard of it." He must've seen something in her expression, because he hurried to add, "But I don't know everything. I'd ask the captain—she might know." He tossed her something.

Skuld stretched to catch it and fumbled a little. It took her a moment to realize that she was holding what looked like a metal wedge.

"Come on," Jim said with a smirk, "the side of the ship has some barnacles that need to come off."

Skuld bit back a groan. "Got it."

(Using magic for these tasks was helping a lot with her control, she realized; she could more reliably funnel magic to different parts of her body, or hit things more accurately with a spell. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to be able to make herself stick to the side, and after awkwardly trying to run along the hull, eventually resigned herself to doing things the normal way.

She tried not to think too much about the crew members watching her from the deck.)

-Miss Skuld,

You certainly know how to pique my curiosity! You weren't confident in inter-world mail, but you talk like you should know a lot about the worlds. And the fact that you don't know how you have a Keyblade—well, that's certainly a little odd. See, most people have to be bequeathed a Keyblade. Or, well—that makes it sound like someone else gives them theirs, but that's not entirely right. How did Master Brain explain it? Basically, a Keyblade Master's supposed to give someone the ability to create a Keyblade. That Keyblade's forged from a shard of the person's heart—small enough that it won't do any lasting damage, of course. Still, the person's heart has to be strong enough to survive the process—there's this built-in safety mechanism in the magic, I guess, so that nobody's hurt. But as far as I'm aware, you have to have someone give you the ability to forge a Keyblade. You said the details were hazy…?

You're name's strange—well, not because of the name itself, but because you don't seem to be a Scala resident. 'Skuld' is actually a pretty popular name in the place—the other Union Leaders' names, too, actually. Which, I guess I should explain that—the Union Leaders were Keyblade wielders before Scala even existed. Ephemer, Skuld, Brain, Ventus, and Lauriam. Ephemer was the only one to make it out of the fall of his world; the other four disappeared. Supposedly, Master Brain's the original Brain, but you can see why there's room for doubt, eh? Anyway, there are tons of stories about the five of them and the Dandelions they were supposed to lead, so their names are pretty common.

You're an inquisitive sort, aren't you? Good—it pays to be! Now, the Keyblade order—well, they were charged with protecting the world from monsters—mostly in secret, mind you, considering the whole 'world order' thing (do you know what that is?). It sounds like you've dealt with Heartless already. Basically, Keyblade wielders made sure nothing could cause a world to fall again, but they couldn't interfere with a place's daily affairs. They set up a sort of schooling system—people who wanted to train as Keyblade wielders would be bequeathed and join as they started to enter their teenage years, and from there would learn everything they needed to know about world travel and fighting with the Keyblade and their history and the like. Of course, it's a little more complicated than that, from what Master Brain was saying; a lot of times, young Keyblade wielders come from prestigious families and are scouted early, even if they can't start training until later. I guess he got into arguments with them about that—twice, apparently, for both his daughter and grandson.

If you haven't heard of Scala—well, there could be many reasons. Keyblade wielders have always been a secretive sort, and there were some disagreements going on about how much outsiders should know when I was visiting. It's possible they decided to pull back a little and hide.

Thank you again for the fascinating letter!

Preston B. Whitmore

-Ephemer. Brain. Ventus. Lauriam. She turned the names over and over in her head like precious trinkets. They sounded familiar; they reminded her of the specters of her friends, on that hill of flowers. I must've learned about them, she thought, from whoever bequeathed me. (The answer didn't sound quite right, sitting awkwardly somewhere in her chest, but it had to be—it was what made the most sense.)

The place in my dreams—I wonder if it was Scala ad Caelum. If that's where Keyblade wielders come from, then—and I remember what the fox showed me. There were other Keyblade wielders in my home. That has to be it, then. So…so I was training there, with my friends?

She wondered who they were. She wondered if they'd been worried when she wasn't there anymore.

…She wondered how much time had passed there since she'd apparently disappeared.

She scanned the letter again. 'Dandelions.' That explains the 'Dandelion' in the stories—but the man with the eyepatch called me that, too.

"Hey!" someone shouted, and Skuld jumped, startled out of her thoughts. A crew member was carrying an armful of supplies across the deck, struggling to balance them. "Can someone help me with—shit!" They stumbled, supplies toppling free.

Skuld moved without really thinking about it, Starlight flashing into her hands as she cast a Zero Gravity spell. The parts floated between them.

The crew member stared at her. She stared back, trying not to feel too awkward.

Tentatively, the crew member gave her a smile. "Thanks, Keyslinger."

She didn't quite smile back, but some of the tension bled out of her shoulders.

-Mister Whitmore,

I'm currently traveling with inter-world merchants—they've taught me a lot about other worlds and what to do while visiting. I've asked, but they don't know anything about Scala ad Caelum. That's why I was wondering.

A lot of my memories are…fuzzy. I don't remember much of my life. I don't even know if 'Skuld' is actually my name; it's something someone else called me.

'Dandelions' is a familiar term. You wrote it like it's supposed to mean something—what is it? And do you know how I might get to Scala ad Caelum?

Skuld

-Skuld stared over the railing of the ship, tapping her fingers anxiously as she waited for them to land. The post office was—I think I can find it. She'd made Jim go over the map with her several times.

("You're really getting into this, aren't you?"

She hadn't known how to answer that, so she'd just hunched over the map and tried to commit the world's layout to memory.)

"Hey, Keyslinger!"

Skuld started, shoulders hitching near her ears.

A couple of crew members waved at her.

"Um." Skuld's eyes darted awkwardly over the side of the ship.

"You want to come with us to check out some of the eats in the area? Don't think you're on any of the offloading crews."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "'Eats'?"

"You know, food?"

"You…want me there?"

There was a moment of hesitance, the group glancing at each other. "You've been putting in good work," one said finally. "We figured—you know, extend an olive branch."

It was…almost tempting. Almost. But a part of her couldn't help wondering, Is there a catch? And, besides, she had a letter to pick up. Hopefully.

The ship landed; Skuld rocked with it, keeping herself steady. "I—sorry, but I've got plans." She jumped over the edge.

"Does she always have to go that way?"

-Miss Skuld,

Well, that certainly explains your knowledge, then! If your memories are gone, then I have a theory, if I might be so bold—though I suspect it's likely one you've already started to come to. It seems most likely that you would've been a resident of Scala ad Caelum at one point—probably training to be a Keyblade Master, I presume. Perhaps something happened while you were traveling the worlds to erase your memory. I have to say, the stranger is concerning—if he knew your name, why not take you back to Scala? It's quite curious.

The Dandelions were a group of Keyblade wielders that were supposedly led by the Union Leaders. No one knows entirely what happened to them; it's generally said that they are hiding away somewhere, waiting for the rest of the Union Leaders to come find them. I read about it a little in that journal I found—did you know it originally belonged to Master Ephemer? Of course, I didn't find that out until I got to Scala—Master Brain had apparently been restoring it, and lost it in a mission gone wrong—but I'll explain that later.

I can certainly try my best to give you directions—though I admit, I wasn't the one to chart the course originally. I think a lot of this would be easier to discuss in person—and then we could both get our questions answered. I'm old enough now that I don't think I should be world-hopping—and might not even be able to find you, if I could! What time cycle are you on? If you can give me an idea, we can schedule a time to meet on my world.

Preston B. Whitmore

-"How do time cycles work in space?"

Jim opened his mouth to answer, but someone else beat him to it: "They don't."

Skuld gave the crew member a confused glance.

"What she means," said another crew member, rolling his eyes, "is that they're weird."

The fox appeared between them, making both of them jump away with startled yelps, bowls of food nearly flying. She didn't seem to notice, trotting placidly across the table towards Skuld.

Skuld gave her a small smile, then turned her attention back to Jim.

"They're right about that," Jim said. "It works differently out here. Same as the typical 'day and night' thing—you track it by the stars."

"Is this—would this be normal for any sort of world traveler?"

"Well, yeah, probably."

Skuld tried to imagine it: her as a rookie Keyblade wielder, being taught how to read star charts by her mentor. She imagined being taught a lot of things, actually; her teacher probably would've been the one who'd explained about the world order, and about Heartless, and taught her how to interact with people on other worlds and everything. I wonder—the man with the eyepatch. Would he have been the one to…? But then why wouldn't he take me back? And if I lost my memories—how did that happen?

And then, a more chilling thought: Did he have something to do with it?

The fox nudged Skuld's hand, and she pet her absently.

"So," Zidane asked, clutching his food closer and eyeing the fox warily, "is this just going to be a regular thing…?"

The fox almost looked like she smiled and snapped her jaws in his direction.

Zidane jerked away, lifting his food higher.

"The star charts," Skuld said. "Could you teach me to read them?"

"Huh?" Jim looked dumbfounded. "Sure, but—you don't need to know them, you know. You're a normal crew member. The captain's going to take care of all that stuff."

"Please."

Jim studied her a few moments, then relented with a sigh. "Okay."

(She probably learned this all before. It was frustrating, knowing how much she'd have to relearn. But she'd been training with Marcus long enough now to know that it didn't matter; maybe it frustrated her, but she couldn't just wait around hoping for her memories to come back. She had to teach herself. And so she would.)

-Mister Whitmore,

That would be amazing. The crew says time cycles are weird in space, but that people can figure out when to arrive at a world based on its time cycle; if you give me yours and a date and time, I could try and meet you.

Skuld

-"There you go. You're getting the hang of it!"

Skuld felt a smile twitching on her lips as she cautiously steered the lifeboat through space.

Zidane leaned over the edge, hands resting on the side.

"Careful," Jim said dryly. "You might fall out."

"Only if you push me."

"Don't tempt me."

Skuld stifled a snort of amusement.

Zidane shot her a look and a brief grin.

"Alright," Jim said, and there was a mischievous look on his face, "how about we try something a little more exciting?"

Skuld hesitated, very briefly alarmed at the idea of going faster. But when Jim did it before—it looked like fun, almost. And I think I'll be okay, with them. She managed a small smile back, and then hit the throttle.

Zidane yelped, and Jim laughed and whooped, and Skuld grinned despite herself.

For the first time in a long time, she felt free.

-Miss Skuld,

Perfect! The time cycle here is Atlantian—yes, yes, I know, very self-absorbed, but I know a couple of other worlds that run on it! I'm not certain how far away you are, so let's schedule this a few weeks out. At noon, say? You can find me at the address you've been using to send letters.

I look forward to meeting you in person!

Preston B. Whitmore

-Skuld stared at the letter and felt her heart thundering in her chest. Soon. Soon, she'd have answers. Soon, she'd be able to really start figuring out her past and maybe—maybe—finally track down the people she'd been missing.

Soon, she'd have to leave the crew behind.

She was…surprised, a little, at the brief twinge of sadness in her chest. Maybe I could—visit, sometime. I'm sure they'll understand. I only came along because I was looking for answers.

…I'm not even sure how many of them would miss me, anyways.

(And it wasn't like they were the only ones she'd ever left behind.)

Skuld stared at the letter, still for a moment. Slowly she folded it and put it in her pocket.

If she could get letters out—then she could get one to Radiant Garden, right? She thought she had to try.

-Lea and Isa,

I have so much to tell you. I don't even know where to start.

I guess maybe I should start with who this is: this is the girl from the cell. Subject X. My name's Skuld, apparently—but I only know that because of the man who got me out. I don't know if my first letter ever made it to you—but there was this strange man with an eyepatch who used magic to help me escape my cell. I went to another world entirely—just like in the stories!

A lot's happened since then. I apparently have this weapon called a Keyblade? It's some sort of—of magical sword that can open any lock. I don't know where it came from, but I've been talking to someone who might have some ideas. I'm going to meet him soon.

And I'm on a merchant ship right now! I'm learning how to travel the worlds. And I've met people that—I don't know if they're friends, but they're nice. They're names are Jim and Zidane. Maybe you'll meet them one day?

I don't have a lot of time to write—but please send me something back. I want to hear how you two are doing. I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I went—I didn't know how to get a message to you. I hope you didn't worry too much.

Love,

Skuld

-When she got the letter from Radiant Garden, she didn't read it right away, despite how much she wanted to. She slipped it into an inner pocket, pressed tightly against her heart, and helped with tasks around the ship until they'd set sail again. She snuck away from the noise on the deck—the chaos and crowds still a bit too much for her, sometimes—and finally found refuge in the crew's quarters. She pulled the letter from her pocket, holding it carefully between her fingers.

A snap and a flash of light, and then the fox was on her shoulder, staring at the letter curiously.

Skuld showed it to her. "From Lea and Isa," she murmured, something warm welling in her chest.

The fox leaned forward to sniff it. She twitched, eyes narrowing slowly. The flames spiked like fur, and a low growl went through her throat.

"What's wrong?"

The fox snatched the letter from her hands and darted off.

"Hey!" Starlight was in her hands in a flash.

The air began to ripple around the fox.

Zero Gravity.

The fox floated. A low whine came from her throat.

Skuld hurried to her, grabbing the letter.

The fox growled.

Skuld tensed, then steeled herself. "No," she said. "This is—this is the first I've heard from them in forever." Her eyes burned, and the yawning desperation to speak to her friends again—buried for a time, but not gone—came back with a vengeance.

The fox looked at her. The flames died a little, and she huffed a sigh, letting go of the letter. She looked resigned, almost, and a strange feeling or foreboding tugged at Skuld's chest.

The spell faded, and the fox landed easily. She didn't try to steal the letter again—just watched Skuld, eyes unblinking. It reminded her a little of when she'd first seen the creature, in the dreams of her friends.

Skuld glanced from her, then to the letter, and pried the envelope open.

It wasn't from Lea and Isa.

You sure you want to be sending letters to Radiant Garden, Dandelion?

Skuld felt like something had caught in her throat and was going to choke her. She read the words once, twice, three times, eyes darting back and forth across the page. Beneath the single sheet of paper was the letter she'd written to Lea and Isa, and it crinkled in her grip.

It should've made it there. It did make it. But this wasn't what she should've gotten back.

'Dandelion.' The man with the eyepatch. Knowing what she did now, she wondered why he kept calling her that. (An absurd part of her wondered if it meant she was one of the Keyblade wielders who'd gotten lost—but that couldn't be right. They were ancient. He was just comparing her to them because she was separated from her home. Scala ad Caelum, apparently.)

If this was here, then—did Xehanort know? Could he find out where she was? The thoughts made her heart stutter and her breath hitch. Her hands shook, the paper crinkling.

And then: I'm not the only one who could be in danger.

The fox made a quiet whining sound.

"Did you know?" Skuld whispered. "That it was from him?"

The fox bowed her head, looking almost ashamed.

"Why wouldn't you—?" She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I need to go. I—if he got this, then—what if something's happened to Lea and Isa?"

She was supposed to try and head out to Atlantis. She was supposed to be on her way to find out more about who she was and maybe, finally, make her way home. But if it came down to getting more information and protecting Lea and Isa—there was no competition.

Her old friends had been waiting for her for a while now. They'd be okay waiting a little longer.

She folded both letters, shoved them into a pocket, and began packing her bag. Book, some basic supplies, potions—enough that she'd hopefully be set for the journey.

What about Xehanort? some part of her mind hissed, and she froze, hand hovering over her bag. What are you going to do when you have to face him?

She took a shuddering breath and kept packing. I won't, she thought firmly. I'll stay out of sight. I'll go and find Lea and Isa, and make sure they're okay, and—and maybe then we can all leave. We can all be safe.

That same quiet part of her whispered, What if they don't want to go?

She didn't try and argue with it, this time. I have to at least make sure they're okay. I have to. I have to. She pulled the drawstrings and slung her bag over her shoulder.

The fox trotted after her as she left the room. Skuld glanced about then, near silently, stole down the hallway. She needed people not to notice her, now; she didn't want to make a scene when she left, and she didn't have time to argue or explain what she was doing. If she'd just been going to Atlantis—she would've talked to the captain, first. She suspected Amelia might have already known about her plans. But this—she didn't have time to wait. She had to move now, before something else bad could happen.

(Stupid, stupid. She'd given away where she was. She'd let other people know about Lea and Isa. Why did she think sending a letter had been a good idea?)

The lifeboats were right where they always were, swinging almost serenely. Skuld opened the hatch, then clambered into a lifeboat, the fox jumping in after her. With practiced ease she began lowering it, trying not to fumble over herself in her haste.

"Skuld?"

The rope slid through Skuld's fingers. She hissed as it burned, gripping the it tighter to keep from falling.

Jim stood a short distance away, watching her with an uncertain expression.

The fox snapped out of existence.

Skuld barely noticed; she stared at Jim, fumbling for something she could say. In the end, she didn't try; she let go of the rope, intending to let the lifeboat drop into space so she could leave.

Jim misunderstood; he let out an alarmed cry and lunged, catching the rope, jerking the lifeboat to a stop before it could fully get free. The boat swung back and forth wildly, and Skuld gripped the edge tightly to keep from falling out.

Starlight flashed into her palms. She hadn't entirely meant to summon it, but she wouldn't dismiss it—not now, not if she was going to have to fight her way to freedom.

Jim's eyes flicked to the bag, then to her, and the uncertainty turned to understanding. "You're leaving?"

"I was never going to stay."

Jim had an expression on his face she couldn't entirely read. "I thought you were finally settling in."

Skuld's grip around Starlight tightened. "I don't belong here," she said, and meant it. "There are—I have a home out there. But that's not the point. There's—I have people I need to protect."

"And all this time, you were just—? You could've told me."

Skuld steeled herself, lifting her Keyblade. "If I have to," she said, "I'll fight."

Jim watched her for a long moment. Then he jerked his head away, eyes narrowed. "Fine," he said. "I'm not going to stop you. Just—"

He didn't get the chance to finish; the ship rocked wildly, sending the lifeboat swinging. The vessel nearly slammed into the side of the ship; Skuld threw herself free, landing back in the hold, skidding roughly across the wooden floor. Jim was thrown backwards with a yelp, hitting the wooden wall with a solid thud.

There were shouts of alarm from some of the crew members on deck.

"What was that?" Jim groaned, holding his head.

Skuld pushed herself to her hands and knees, scrambling to the opening.

For a moment, she saw nothing. Then something shifted, dark even against the backdrop of space.

Skuld's breath caught in her throat.

The shape moved almost lazily, drifting along beneath them, thick ridges ticking against the bottom of the lifeboat. Then it stopped, head slowly tilting, until Skuld could get a glimpse of a disconcertingly familiar symbol.

Heartless.

Finally, Skuld has enough information to start drawing entirely incorrect conclusions about her past.

Also, thank you Lacan Shinn and batmanuchiha for reviewing last chapter! Review responses:

Lacan Shinn: Can't respond to a lot of the beginning stuff due to spoilers; I WILL say that Apprentice Xehanort's identity crisis will touch on aspect of all three of the 'personalities' that make up his heart, though. As for Skuld's guilt about the Heartless—it's in the back of her mind, but at the moment, she's not blaming herself for them increasing. I haven't actually read the books that The Black Cauldron is based on, so…didn't include any references from them, aha. For the myth: the two initial people that Shadow and Starlight interact with aren't really based on anyone, the fox represents Ava, and the 'monster' is a hybrid of Nightmare Chirithy and Darkness. (The gods are Foreteller stand-ins, so any time it mentions talking to the gods, etc., it's referring to them as a collective.) The End of the World was meant to literally be that location; beyond it—and the 'gods' realm' that they get to by climbing the stairway—isn't any actual location in Kingdom Hearts. The name Marge wasn't a reference to anything, no; it was just me picking a name at random. And haha, no, the Ephemer one-shot in Dandelion Seeds probably won't be named that.

batmanuchiha: Ah, don't feel dumb! I might not have shown what the story was referring to very well, aha.