'Home isn't what she thought it'd be.'
Chapter Fourteen: Scala ad Caelum
"What did you want to talk about, Skuld?"
Skuld flexed her fingers, and for a moment, she let her attention wander. The crew was in motion—the ship they'd managed to charter would be coming soon, and they were trying to get things in order. Finish packing what belongings they had. Make sure that the survivors from Radiant Garden were settled. Say any final goodbyes. Everything was a flurry of activity, some people pausing to shout, "Hey, Keyslinger!" every now and again as they saw her. Skuld tried to commit it all to memory.
Amelia was still watching her, hands folded behind her back, but there was a question in her eyes.
Skuld pulled the torn map out of her pocket and handed it over.
Amelia raised an eyebrow but accepted. Her eyes flicked across it, and Skuld could see the moment where she started to put the pieces together.
"I found it, hidden in the back of a journal." She leaned closer, craning her neck so she could see the place where 'Scala ad Caelum' was marked. "That's my home."
"I see." There were a wealth of questions in Amelia's eyes, and for a moment, Skuld thought she would ask them. Then she seemed to clamp down on them, expression turning business-like. "I'm assuming that you want to be dropped off there, then?"
"No. I can get there on my own." She took a breath. "But I need better coordinates."
"You need the other half of the map."
Skuld nodded.
Amelia studied her for a few moments. She turned back to the map and something in her expression softened. "You said you found this in a journal?"
Another nod.
"Mm." Amelia thumbed the edge. "When the other half of this piece came into my friend's possession," she said carefully, "it was peddled away by someone who'd claimed it came from a fallen civilization. They'd spun stories of warriors with strange weapons and how the map would lead to the remains of the world they'd called home."
Skuld went rigid. "You knew, then."
"I suspected. It might've all been hogwash, but—well, I suppose when you came onto my ship, I was hoping."
"Did you want to find them, too? To find out if everything you heard was real?"
"I suppose there's still a part of me that craves that sort of adventure, yes. That part of me has never entirely left—it's why I became a sailor, after all." Amelia turned to study Skuld. "You remind me of myself, in that regard."
"And that's why you agreed to help."
"I agreed to help because I hoped that having a Keyblade wielder would prevent future concerns with the Heartless."
Skuld gave her a smile that didn't really feel right on her face. "I guess that didn't work out quite as planned."
"It didn't," Amelia agreed, quiet. "But I don't regret having you along." She folded the map and handed it back to Skuld. "I suppose this means you're officially resigning?"
"I guess."
Amelia raised an eyebrow.
Skuld tried to answer the unasked question, but in truth, she didn't really know how. "I just—I need to get there. I need to see it for myself."
"I won't ask you if you're prepared for what you may find. I'm sure the possibilities have already gone through your head."
A fallen civilization. "I know."
Amelia inclined her head, then turned and led her through the chaos of the crew, back towards her makeshift office.
The map was still pinned to the wall. Amelia took it down carefully, spreading it flat across the table.
Skuld unfolded her piece. After a heartbeat she lay it down, gently pushing them together.
They fit almost perfectly. She traced the pathways, noting the position of the stars, mentally bringing up lessons with Jim to try and figure out the coordinates she'd need. "Give me—I need to test it."
Starlight was in her hands in a heartbeat. She flicked it towards the door, energy crackling at the tip. The portal opened, magic making her hair stand on end and her skin prickle.
For several moments, she could only stare. On the other side of that portal—if she'd gotten her coordinates right—was home. Or, rather, what remained of it. Scala ad Caelum.
Don't panic. Just breathe. You need to check and make sure it worked. That's all.
She moved before she really had a chance to think about it.
Light blazed brightly on the other side of the portal. Large marble buildings towered overhead. Cobblestone pathways wove between the buildings, reminding her achingly of Daybreak Town. The world was overrun with plants, a couple of birds chirping as they fluttered past, close enough that she startled backwards, out of the portal.
It was home, and it wasn't. But it was here, and it made something in her chest catch.
She closed the portal, distantly aware of Amelia watching her. Her eyes burned. She was shaking, she realized, Starlight's keychain rattling against the blade. "It's there. It's—I can get there."
Amelia nodded, and something in her expression softened. "I hope you have safe travels, then." She pushed the map towards her.
Skuld shook her head. "Keep it. Just in case. Besides, you said a friend gave it to you."
Amelia's lips twitched into a grin. "That he did."
Skuld took a steadying breath. There was something tugging on her heart—almost like Scala ad Caelum was calling her, asking her to come home. But there was a reason she'd come back first, instead of heading off between the streets. "Do you know where Zidane and Jim are?"
"Last I checked, they were looking for you."
Taran said the same thing. "Where…?"
"I haven't seen them here, so I suspect they're still in Traverse Town. You can likely catch them if you hurry."
Skuld gave her a grateful look, then opened a portal back to the other world.
-There was a sort of bone-deep exhaustion weighing Skuld down. It felt like she'd experienced a lifetime in a day—and, she supposed in a way, she had. A part of her wasn't sure if she was prepared to deal with this conversation now.
But she also didn't think it could wait. They would be leaving soon, after all. If she wanted to talk to them about things, she'd have to do it now.
She eventually found the two of them close to the world gate. It wasn't that surprising, she supposed, but both of them looked tired. Zidane was gesturing as he spoke; as Skuld got closer, she started to make out the words: "…just leave without saying goodbye."
"She might not be up to it."
"I know, but just—if this is the last time—"
Skuld cleared her throat.
Zidane snapped towards her and his whole expression crumpled with relief. "Skuld."
Jim turned, too, and he looked equally as relieved, the tension draining out of his shoulders. "Hey."
"Hey," Skuld said, and her voice was as shaky as her smile.
There was an awkward sort of tension there, filled with unasked questions and untold stories. Staring at them, Skuld felt that knot in her chest twist, the weight of a legacy settling over her shoulders. She took a breath, then said, "Can we—can we sit down and talk?"
Jim and Zidane exchanged glances. "Sure," Zidane said, a question in his voice; he mostly seemed confused, but it sounded like it could tilt over the edge into wariness with the slightest nudge.
Jim's expression was a little easier to read; it had flashed through panic, then understanding, then resignation, and finally settled on the last. He looked…incredibly tired.
Skuld tried to ignore how much the guilt made her want to run. There was a reason she'd wanted to have this conversation, after all.
The three of them settled at one of the tables at the diner. Skuld almost unconsciously positioned herself so that she could see as much of the town as possible, and tried to force herself to relax. Nothing's coming to get us now, and I don't want to make them worry.
"So?" Zidane prodded when the silence stretched too long.
Skuld took a breath. "I'm leaving." And then, before the words could fully land, she added, "And I want both of you to come with me."
She could see the surprise on their faces, and she wasn't sure which statement it was for.
She barreled onward, practically stumbling over her words as she tried to explain herself: "I know you have Tantalus, Zidane, and Jim has Amelia and the rest of the crew, so I know it couldn't be for very long, but I have the portals, so I thought that maybe it would be alright for just a short trip, but if you don't want to I'd understand—"
"Skuld, whoa, hey, easy."
Her breath shuddered when she inhaled, and she held it and tried to calm herself down. "You don't have to say yes," she said. "I've dragged you into a lot already. More than I really should've. But—I wanted to offer. And even if you say no, I'll still try and visit. If you want me to."
Their table got very, very quiet. "You know," Zidane said after a moment, "it's a pretty big step for you to ask us to come with you."
Skuld gave him a wobbly sort of smile. "I guess I just—" I miss my friends.
"This is about your memories, isn't it?" Jim asked after a moment.
Zidane perked up.
Skuld nodded. She played with her scarf, twisting a frayed end around her finger. Her other hand fluttered near her earing. "I should—I should explain that. I know I didn't really—"
"It's okay. I mean—I get it. It's a lot to deal with."
"But you deserve an explanation. Especially if I'm asking you to come with me." She squared her shoulders and took in their expressions. Jim's was vaguely worried, if still intrigued. Zidane's was pensive, something almost wary underneath his eyes.
(The journal had been returned to an inner pocket. It pressed against her heart now, warm and comforting.)
"The world I came from," she murmured, "was called Daybreak Town. It was—it fell. A long time ago. I was there for it." Her voice shook. "My friends and I, we—we tried to stop it, but we couldn't. And when it all fell apart—we were separated."
"That's how you ended up in Radiant Garden," Jim murmured. "And how you lost your memories."
Skuld nodded.
Zidane was studying her with a too-knowing look. "A long time ago?"
"Time cycles work weird," Jim said with a shrug.
"That's not what this sounds like."
Skuld clasped her hands in front of her, trying to keep them steady. "Daybreak Town was rebuilt," she said, "by one of my friends. Ephemer. And it would, eventually, become the world called Scala ad Caelum."
She could see the realization dawning slowly on their faces. Jim started, "That's the place you—but—I thought that it—"
"It's been around for a long time. Yes."
"There's—what? But how does that—time cycles can be pretty extreme, but—"
"The name," Zidane interrupted. "Ephemer. It was carved near that keyhole in Mos Espa."
"It was." Just say it. You can't keep dancing around this. "Ephemer—he wasn't the first Keyblade wielder, even if he's remembered that way. The first were the Foretellers. Like Ava. But Ephemer's the one who helped preserve everything. He's—he's the whole reason anyone had heard about Keyblade wielders at all, and that everyone was a little less lost when I showed up." Gingerly, she pulled the journal out of her pocket and passed it across the table. Her fingers lingered a moment, and then she pulled her hand back, trying to steady the shaking.
Jim's eyes flicked to her, something almost disbelieving in his expression. He picked up the journal, flipping through it carefully.
Skuld wasn't sure she wanted to watch him exploring the vague remnants of her memories, so she turned towards Zidane. "You're taking this pretty well."
"I don't know about well," Zidane admitted. "It just—I don't know. Everything about what you could remember and the fox and that creepy guy on Destiny Islands seemed weird. So I guess it's not as surprising as it could be."
"You're—" Jim broke off, eyes flicking from the journal to her and back. "So you're—you're from the past. Like, the ancient past."
Skuld swallowed tightly. "That's right."
"But that's—how did you—"
"There were machines. Lifeboats. They could let people travel through time and space. They were our only way out of Daybreak Town. We were—my friends and I used them as the world fell. But we all ended up in different places, it looks like." Her eyes were stinging again. She blinked rapidly and tried to take a steadying breath. I don't want to cry again. Not now. Not while I'm still trying to explain things.
Jim sucked in a breath. He still had a wide-eyed look, like he was trying to process everything and couldn't quite.
Zidane glanced aside. He had his arms folded, his eyes shadowed.
It took a moment for Skuld to realize she'd been curling in on herself. She forced her shoulders back, but it was…hard.
"So," Zidane said quietly, "Scala ad Caelum's the only thing you have of your home left."
She nodded.
"And that's where you're planning to go, I'm guessing."
"Yes."
"What'll you do when you get there?"
The question had a thousand different answers, but truthfully, Skuld could only give one of them: "I don't know. I just—I need to go."
Zidane gave her a long, long look. And then he nodded. "Okay. When do we leave?"
She started.
He gave her a tiny, genuine grin. "Come on, you didn't think I was actually going to say no, did you?"
Jim set the journal on the table, rubbing his hands over his face. He let out his breath in a rush. "Nothing like finding out you're friends with a literal legendary figure."
Skuld's lips twitched into a smile. "Try finding out you are one."
Jim laughed, the sound shaky. "Yeah," he admitted, "that'd probably be a bit more jarring." He shook his head and shrugged. "Hell, I'm in. Might as well see this through, right? Besides, last I checked, I was still in charge of you."
Skuld managed a laugh. "I don't think Amelia would hold you to it at this point."
"Hey, now, you're not getting out of it that easily. Legendary Keyblade wielder or not, you're still just a rookie sailor." He grinned.
Skuld smiled back, that knot in her chest unraveling. Her breath shuddered, and oh, she was crying again.
Both Jim and Zidane leaned closer, looking a little nervous.
She waved them off. "I'm okay," she said. "They're—they're happy tears, this time." She scrubbed her eyes and let out her breath slowly. "Thank you."
Jim's expression softened a little.
Zidane shrugged, but she could see the relief in his face. "What are friends for?"
-Skuld knocked on the door of Preston's study.
Through the gap she saw him startle; rolled up maps and papers fell from the table and scattered across the floor. "What's—? Come in, come in!"
Skuld cautiously pushed the door open.
Preston stared at her for a few moments, blinking in surprise. "I didn't expect to see you again, my dear. I thought you were leaving with the crew."
"I'm—no." There was something tight in her chest as she said it.
("You guys are leaving?"
Skuld had shifted under the watchful gaze of the crew. She'd expected, almost, to see relief or anger; instead she saw something like understanding and regret.
"Not permanently," Jim tried to stress, and Skuld didn't have the heart to tell him that might not be true for her. "We just—needed to check something out."
"Like what?"
"Keyblade stuff." Zidane threw an arm over Jim's shoulder, who looked resigned, and glanced at Skuld with a broad grin. There was something uncertain in his eyes, though, and Skuld didn't really have a way to reassure him.
"You brats are running off and getting into trouble again, huh?" Baku asked with a huff.
"Hey, now, we don't get into trouble that often."
Blank said, "We have different definitions of trouble," and elbowed him playfully.
"Stay safe," Ruby added, looking worried.
Marcus nodded, then gave Skuld a grin and said, "Better come back. Your swordplay could use some work still."
She'd managed a small smile. "I don't know. You might be surprised."
Marcus's grin had widened, then, and then others had crowded around them, calling things like, "Stay safe, Keyslinger!" and "Jim, you'd better came back alright, or the captain will kill us" and "Don't steal anything, Zidane."
It had been a surprisingly warm goodbye, and a part of Skuld ached to leave them behind.)
"Are you staying in Traverse Town, then?"
Skuld blinked out of her thoughts and realized abruptly that she hadn't clarified anything about why she was here. "No. I'm just—I'm going to Scala ad Caelum. Finally."
Preston's expression softened with understanding. "Ah."
Skuld swallowed, then worked up the courage to ask the question she'd really come here for: "Do you—when you were in Scala ad Caelum. Where did you visit?"
"Trying to figure out the best places to stop, eh?" He made a thoughtful humming noise and cupped his chin. "Hmm, let's see. The Founder's Fountain, of course. Went on a tour of the big places—the observatory and the like. Also stopped at a couple local areas—there's a bakery close to the docks that you might want to check out. And there was a nice park along the waterfront—great place to relax. But it's been a while since I've been there. Some of the smaller stores might not be there, and a lot of the locations might look different."
"That's alright. Just—can you give me an idea of where they are? Anything you might think is interesting." She paused, then added quietly, "And—and anything related to the Union Leaders. Where they stayed. Places that talk about them. Things—things like that."
"Well, there are a lot of places that talk about them. There was basically a whole museum dedicated to them and Keyblade history at the bottom of the clock tower—it's worth checking out, if you have the time."
Skuld's throat tightened, but she nodded.
"Here, I'll write some places down." He fetched a pen and scribbled some notes on a loose sheet of paper.
"Do you—I mean, where did—you met with Brain."
"Yes, I did."
"Where did you—?"
Preston paused in his scribbling. "I'm not sure he's still alive, you know."
The gentleness of his voice made Skuld suspect that he knew this was a personal request. "I know. But I still need to go."
Preston studied her a moment, then nodded and turned back to the paper. "I can give you an idea of where his place was." He wrote something down quickly, then handed the collection of notes to Skuld.
She stared at it and her eyes burned. "I—thank you."
"I take it you finally got around to reading the journal, huh?"
She nodded. "Do you—did you know?"
"Know what?"
Looking at him, she couldn't tell if he was messing with her or not. She decided it didn't matter. "Never mind."
"Skuld! Hey!"
She peered out the window; down below, Zidane was waving at her, Jim still talking with Amelia as the rest of the crew got ready to leave.
"I should get going." She turned towards the door, then paused, giving Preston a shaky smile. "Thank you. For everything."
"I don't think I really did much, my dear. But if it helps—well. I hope you find what you're looking for."
-When she had still been in the cell, she had spent countless hours imagining what it would be like to finally come home. It had started as a sort of memory exercise—a way to try and see if she could recall anything of her past, even tiny bits and pieces. Very quickly it had become something she and Xehanort would talk about in the quiet spaces between experiments—when they were alone, without any expectations hanging over their heads, and it had felt like nothing had mattered. It had been exciting, then; something fun to do with her friend, to weave stories of the places where they'd come from: quaint little villages, large kingdoms with fancy castles, advanced cities with technology they could barely imagine. And when things had gotten bad—when the experiments got worse, when Xehanort had started becoming more and more frantic, when Skuld had started to realize things were wrong—well. It had been something for her to hold onto; a promise that her place wasn't here, inside this cell, and that she still had friends and a home out there, waiting for her.
Well, she thought, and it felt hollow, I'm finally here.
Scala ad Caelum was…empty. It looked like no one had been here for years—decades, probably. The world wasn't completely in ruins—many of the buildings were still standing—but they were broken down and overrun with plants. The streets were cracked, and items had been left strewn about the place, broken and covered in dirt. Skuld breathed in the stale air and tried to take in the world around her; if she were looking close, she thought she could bits of Daybreak Town peeking out from the debris. Small bits of color. Flowers in the gardens.
And the clock tower-like building, still looming overhead.
"Shit," Zidane hissed.
Skuld started, coming back to herself.
Zidane and Jim had both stepped out of the portal, staring at the world around them with slack jaws and wide eyes. Zidane turned towards her. "This is—?"
"My home." She closed the portal with a flick of her Keyblade. "Or what's left of it."
"I—shit."
Jim's shock was fading slowly, his expression turning to something a little more sympathetic. "Skuld—"
"It's fine. It's—I didn't expect anyone to be here, really. Luxu said that there wasn't anyone left. I don't think he just meant—you know." With a conscious effort Skuld forced her legs to move, trailing through the silent streets. She closed her eyes and tried to picture what this place had been, before. Keyblade wielders had filled the streets, maybe; she painted in the image of a couple of young wielders getting into a mock fight between two stores, an older one stopping to shout at them. A couple of kids raced past, pinwheels in hand, while their parents tried to wrangle them. A shopkeeper opened the windows of their store, waving good morning. The smell of bread came from a building nearby—the bakery Preston had said to visit. There were people everywhere, studying, chatting, going about their days.
Skuld opened her eyes again and tried to ignore how they burned. She trailed her fingers along one wall, watching as dust came off on them. She wiped it on a pant leg absently. Her chest felt tight, her emotions knotted. Some of it, she thought, was the grief of seeing the remains of this place that should've been her home, broken down and deteriorating. But some of it—
"Is it strange," she asked, quiet, "that I feel like Xehanort should be here with me?"
Silence.
She let out a choked laugh. "It's stupid. It's so stupid, but—we always talked about finding our homes together. And now—"
"I don't think it's stupid," Zidane said, quiet.
"It is. He hurt me, and I shouldn't—but I still wish he was here. Or—I don't know. I wish he'd been—"
"Better?"
"My friend."
Zidane was quiet for a few moments. "You know," he said, "I think it's normal, to grieve the loss of that."
"I'm not grieving him."
"Maybe not him, exactly, but the fact that he wasn't the person you wanted him to be. The fact that you couldn't have this with him. It was something you wanted, and—it makes sense, is what I'm saying."
Skuld scrubbed at her eyes furiously. "I still don't like it."
"Can't blame you. He sounds like a dick."
Skuld laughed quietly. "Jim said the same thing. So did—" Lea and Isa. She broke off, voice caught in her throat.
Zidane didn't press her; she imagined he already had an idea of what she'd been about to say.
She shook her head rapidly, then realized that one of their crew was missing. "Where's—"
"Hey, check this out."
Zidane gave her a wry look. "Over there, probably."
She flashed a tired smile, then followed him to where Jim was examining some sort of strange, floating sphere.
Zidane slapped a hand on his shoulder.
Jim jumped, then gave him a tired look. "Really?"
"Hey, you called us over." Zidane leaned a little closer. "So, what's this thing?"
"I don't know. It looks like some sort of weird combination of tech and magic."
Skuld's head snapped up. "Can I see?"
Jim and Zidane both stepped aside.
Skuld approached it carefully. The sphere hovered slightly off the ground and still hummed with energy. Cautiously, she reached out a hand to touch it.
Something that resembled a rail sprouted from the edge, arcing over the city. Zidane yelped as he hurried to get out of the way.
"It still works?" Jim came closer to examine it. "Geez, this has probably been here for—for who knows how long. I wonder how it's still running?"
"Maybe someone's doing some upkeep on the place," Zidane suggested. "That Luxu guy."
"Yeah, and that's why everything's still broken down."
"Hey, I'm just saying."
"Brain probably made it," Skuld said, voice distant. "He would've tried to make sure it lasted." The journal pressed against her heart, safely tucked into an inner pocket—and, beside it, rested the list of locations Preston had given her. She fished it out, unfolding the paper and scanning it quickly. "Brain," she said. "He was—he lived this way." She'd turned and headed down the run-down streets without waiting for Jim and Zidane to respond, leaving them to scramble after her.
"So, this Brain guy," Zidane said, hurrying on her heels. "That's one of your friends, right?"
She hummed a quiet acknowledgement. "When we were flung through time," she said, "he ended up here, apparently. Just—just a long time before I got here."
"Oh."
"What about your other friends?" Jim asked, quiet. "You said Ephemer founded this place, but—"
"I don't know. No one's found any sign of Lauriam. And Luxu said Ven ended up with other Keyblade wielders, so—he might have been here, once. But he also said that something bad happened to him and his friends. So I don't think—" She cut herself off. Her hands and legs were shaking.
After a few moments, Jim murmured, "We don't have to keep going, you know."
"No. I want to. It's just—" She glanced at them helplessly. "I need to see it. I was searching for it for so long, and—I just need to know what's here."
And then what? some part of her asked. There's nothing left here. No one to find. No place to really call home. What will you do? Rebuild this place, like Ephemer did?
The thought was tempting, almost. But it also made her feel incredibly lonely. No one else would be here. It'd just be me. There was a part of her that thought that felt strangely fitting; she'd lost the Union Leaders, and Lea and Isa, and even Xehanort, after all.
But you haven't lost everyone, something in her whispered as she glanced at Jim and Zidane.
Something tightened in her chest. "Let's just—let's keep going."
Brain's house, it turned out, was surprisingly unassuming: just a small building, set close to the city's center. Skuld hesitated for half a heartbeat outside the door. The idea of going to her friend's old house felt strange; she wasn't really invading anyone's privacy anymore, she knew, and even if she had been, she doubted Brain would've been upset about her visiting. But he'd grown up and died without her, and the letters could only tell her so much; there was so much of his life that she'd missed, and a part of her understood that, even if he had still been alive, he would've been a stranger to her. But I'd probably be a stranger to him, too, she thought, and her coat felt a little too heavy on her shoulders. I'm not the same person I used to be. Not after—
Everything.
She toed the door open after a moment, wincing at the loud squeak from the hinges. The interior was as dusty and unused as she'd expected it to be; there were cobwebs stretched across the ceiling, holes in the furniture, a couple of old, stained books still left on the coffee table. But as Skuld stepped inside, she looked around and tried to piece together what her friend's life had been like. There were childish drawings on the wall—from his daughter or grandson or both, she guessed. Some were of animals, or the city scape, or of Brain and stick figures that were probably supposed to be the rest of his family. (And there was one, on the end, that had five figures, crudely drawn, but—she recognized the scarf. And the stars. And—)
Skuld shook her head and turned away.
He still had a work desk, she realized; it had some beakers and books, and she shook her head with a wry smile. I'm not surprised he kept doing that. But there was also a child's bedroom, worn wooden swords stacked carefully, a toy box shoved in the far corner, a small bed pressed against the wall.
It wasn't enough—but it was more than she'd find for Ephemer, she realized. Her other friend had died so long ago that there wouldn't be any remnants of him, except in stories. And in the places he built, she thought. Maybe if I look—maybe I can still find traces of him. Somewhere.
Glass crunched under her feet.
Skuld started, stumbling backwards.
On the ground was a picture. The glass had shattered, the photo partially sliding out of the broken frame. Skuld picked it up carefully; glass shards clattered against the floor, and the frame fell with a loud crash that made her wince. But she tried not to think about it too much, instead focusing on the picture in her hands.
It was quickly clear why this had been in Brain's home: there was a boy there who looked almost identical to him, arms slung over the shoulders of a friend. His grandson. She didn't know the boy's name, but he was smiling broadly, eyes bright. Despite herself, Skuld found herself smiling back. She didn't know this boy—and maybe never would—but it was nice to still be able to see him. (And she wondered if, maybe, he was still alive, out on a different world—if any of her friends still had families out there, just waiting for her to find.)
And then her eyes slid to the other boy, and her breath caught in her throat.
He looked different here. Younger. Wary, even though his friend had dragged him close enough for the photo. The facial structure was different, and the body type, and the eye color. There was very little the same between this boy and the man that she'd known, but something in her heart still recognized him. Xehanort.
Her hands almost burned, but they were glued to the photo, and she wanted to let go but she couldn't stop staring as her mind tried to put together some sort of coherent thought. And then, finally, she managed an incredulous, half-hysteric laugh. It bubbled in her chest and her throat, and suddenly she found she couldn't stop, the sound harsh and painful and—
"You made it back," she said, and her voice came out shaking. "Of course you did. When you left Destiny Islands—of course you didn't go right to Radiant Garden. Of course you actually found where you came from. Of course you managed to find one of my friends, of all people." She blinked rapidly, her eyes burning. "But I guess it doesn't matter anymore. You're dead, and your home is empty." She let out a long breath and tried, almost fruitlessly, to steady herself.
Something clattered behind her.
Skuld whipped around, half-ready to summon Starlight.
"It's just me," Zidane said, hands lifted.
Skuld relaxed, breath coming out in a rush, and tried not to feel embarrassed about how jumpy she felt again.
Zidane came a little closer. "One of your friends?"
Skuld tilted the picture towards him. "His grandson," she murmured. "And…Xehanort."
Zidane's breath hissed through his teeth. "That's right. You said he was from here, huh? So he's—he was a Keyblade wielder, too, then?"
"I guess so." She tilted the picture back towards her. Her chest ached; there was a grief she didn't entirely understand there, tight and painful. "They probably didn't put him in a cage."
Zidane was very, very quiet.
Skuld's breath shuddered and her eyes burned. "He looks so much different here than the person I knew. He probably got to grow up here. Train. Make friends—real friends. I guess he was just so desperate to go back to them that it didn't matter what he did to—" She cut herself off, that ache of grief in her chest growing stronger.
(It dawned on her, suddenly, that she didn't know how Xehanort had lost his memories. She had lost them because she'd been flung through time, and the lifeboat hadn't entirely worked as it should—but she knew Xehanort hadn't used one. She hadn't known anyone like Xehanort in the Dandelions.
But, some part of her whispered, there were seven lifeboats. One was destroyed in the data world—but that doesn't mean that it was destroyed in the real world. And he said he had memories of me. And Ven. But how could he have…?
There was something there that didn't feel quite right, and she couldn't entirely place what it was; the answer felt like it was right there, but kept slipping out of her grasp.)
"You know it's not your fault, right?"
Jim. He was standing behind Zidane, she realized; he'd been so quiet she'd hardly noticed him.
When she didn't say anything, he continued, "Xehanort. You know that's—that's on him. Not on you."
"I—I know. Or, I think I do." She stared at the photo. After a hesitant moment she folded it and placed it in a pocket. "But it's—"
"Confusing?" Zidane supplied.
"Yeah."
She wanted to linger here—linger in this place that had once belonged to her friend. For a moment, she could almost imagine restoring it—she could imagine fixing the holes in the walls, bringing in new furniture, addressing that leak she could see in the roof. Maybe it could spread to the rest of the city, too—it's what Ephemer had done, after all. But—
(If there is anything that I'd wish for you…it's that you guys would find your happiness, too. That you'd live. That you won't let your memories of the past hold you back from experiencing whatever life you've found yourself in.)
She shook her head and backed out of the house. "Come on. This isn't the only place I wanted to see."
-Exploring Scala ad Caelum was strangely surreal. Everywhere she went, she thought she could see remnants of things that she recognized—but then she'd turn, and the feeling would be gone just as quickly. She trailed along the waterfront, explored the towers, traversed through the quiet streets, slowly trying to put everything together into one coherent picture.
(If there was anything of Ephemer left, it had long been buried underneath the rubble.)
For a while, she'd been dodging around the clock tower—or, at least, the building that resembled it. She didn't know what it would be like to step into a building that reminded her so much of home, but just…wasn't. (And, if she were being honest, she didn't know what it would've been like to step into the Clock Tower back in Daybreak Town, either; if it had still been here, would she have felt like a stranger in its hallways? Or would it still have felt like home?)
But she couldn't put it off forever. Besides, she wanted to see everything—and that meant heading into the tower, too.
They stepped from the streets and into the shade of the towering structure. The door between them and the interior creaked open with a gentle push.
The inside of this place looked much different than the castle in Radiant Garden, or even the Clock Tower in Daybreak Town. Despite the time that had obviously passed, there was still a surprising amount that remained intact. (There was something about that which struck her as odd, maybe, but not enough that she could focus on it.)The entry hall was huge, filled with old sets of armor, carefully preserved, ancient Keyblades, hung and polished, paintings depicting stories she didn't recognize—
And some she maybe thought she did.
"Is that me?"
There was an older painting that depicted five people—the five of them, she guessed, or history's best approximation of them. They had made her older, she realized; some of the details were the same—the black hair and Starlight—but many features seemed so different, armor covering her when she'd barely even looked at a set before, her features too sharp, too defined. If she couldn't pick out telltale details from the others, she might not have realized it was her at all.
Zidane whistled. "What's this from, like, a thousand years ago? You look good for your age."
Skuld shook her head, but it drew a smile. "I'll have to tell Lea and Isa about—" She cut off.
(She was never going to get to show them. She was never going to get to explore this with them, or tell them about the friends she could remember now, or—anything.)
There was a heavy silence between them, for a few moments. Skuld took a breath and tried to steady herself. "Where'd Jim go?"
Zidane leaned around her and pointed.
Jim was looking at another magical construct of some sort, fingers dancing across the surface; small sparks spat from the place his fingertips touched, and he had a thoughtful look on his face.
Zidane clapped a hand on his shoulder.
Jim jumped. "Will you stop?"
"Nope." He leaned a little closer. "So, what's this?"
Jim sighed, but turned back towards the device. "I think it's like—little informational bits about the different stuff here."
"Like a museum."
"Kind of, yeah."
Skuld tilted her head, looking at the wide ceiling above them. "So this was a place to record our history."
"Yeah. Or, at least, this part."
Zidane glanced at her. "Is this—is this weird at all? Like, do you recognize any of those Keyblades—?"
Jim punched his arm.
"Ow, hey."
"He's okay," Skuld answered quietly. "It's—it is kind of strange. I'm not sure if I recognize any of the Keyblades or armor—I think they might've come after us." And the realization that there was so much that she missed made her mind spin; there were likely all sorts of legendary wielders that came after her, and she had no idea who they'd even be. "But some of the paintings are—they're familiar."
(She'd caught one of the Foretellers, and of the fall of Daybreak Town, and—and of her last friend, and the battle against Darkness. They were things she suddenly had very vivid memories of, and it felt strange to remember how far in the past that they were.)
For a moment, Skuld thought she could see the ghosts of Xehanort, of Brain's grandson, of Ephemer, all wandering through these hallways. She stared at the picture of the Union Leaders—of her—and wondered if that was why Xehanort thought he had memories of her; if his image of who she was had been formed by some fantastical legend that she was never going to live up to.
(She tried, for a moment, to picture herself in these halls. The image was just as foreign as the one on the wall.)
She'd left the tower before she had time to think more about what she was doing.
-"I was wrong," Skuld whispered, quiet. "There was something of you left."
Ephemer's statue was silent. It stood in the center of the fountain; no water came from it, now, but it reminded her achingly of Daybreak Town.
Jim and Zidane had backed off, giving her a little bit of space. Skuld appreciated the gesture; it made her feel a little less out of place talking to a statue. Cautiously she sat on the edge of the fountain; if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was home, her friends sitting on either side around her.
(For a moment, she almost thought she saw Xehanort—not as she knew him, but as the boy in the photo. She wondered if he'd ever come to sit in this exact same place.
She wondered why he got to be close to her friends, and she hadn't—)
Skuld took a shuddering breath and tilted her head backwards. "I got your letters. So did Brain, but he probably already told you."
The statue was lifeless. The stone grin on Ephemer's face never wavered.
Skuld swallowed tightly and looked away. "I don't know where the others—I'll try to get the letters to them, too. Maybe. But I don't know if I'll see them again." She blinked a few times. "When everything was gone—you built this place for us. But I don't know if I—" She shook her head. "I don't know where I'm supposed to go from here. After this—what else do I have left? Everything's just—"
Her eyes flicked to Zidane and Jim. They were examining something near one of the houses; as she watched, Zidane launched himself up the side of the building, and Jim shouted at him as he scrambled through a window.
She thought about lingering longer, but—well. She didn't want the two of them to get into trouble. Carefully she stood, pushing herself away from the fountain. "I'll—I'll see you soon."
It wasn't a promise she knew whether or not she'd keep.
-"Might want to set up camp for the night. If we're going to stay here."
Zidane made a noncommittal noise at Jim's comment. "Seems like a pretty creepy place to set up camp."
"Look, it's the place with the least amount of debris, okay?"
Skuld tuned out their conversation for a moment. Her eyes ran over the graves; most of them were broken and moss-covered, worn down by the passage of time, but a couple looked like they'd been maintained recently. Someone really has been here, she thought, and wondered if it was Luxu.
(She half-thought it might've been Xehanort, for a moment, but pushed the idea aside; he had completely forgotten about this place, after all.)
(How had he lost his memories?)
"Skuld?"
She came back to herself slowly, glancing towards Jim.
Both he and Zidane were giving her vaguely-worried looks. "Does that sound good?" Jim asked carefully.
"I—yeah, but—I don't want to keep you guys here too long. I should—you can go back, if you want."
"Right. And you'll come with us?"
She let out a slow breath.
"Then we're still with you."
"What if I never leave? You can't—you can't stay here forever."
"Skuld," Zidane broke in, "neither can you."
She blinked rapidly. Lea and Isa were gone. Ephemer and the other Union Leaders were gone. The only thing that she had left was this place, really—and even that was in ruins. (There was a part of her that wanted, desperately, to cling to it. There was another that thought that maybe it was better to let it go; to try and make the most of her time she had with her new friends, this time, in case she lost them, too.)
"We'll set up camp," Jim said firmly. "We can keep exploring tomorrow. Okay?"
Skuld nodded reluctantly.
The others got to work, and she found herself trailing away, passing silently through the graves.
Something pink flashed in the corner of her eye.
She started, expecting to see a fox. Instead, she saw a small wisp of flame, hovering between the stones.
Skuld cast a curious glance back at the others. They were busy, at the moment; she doubted they'd worry if she went a short ways away, so long as she didn't run into any Heartless. She turned towards the fire, heading towards it silently. It dissipated as she neared, reappearing a short distance away. Further, and further, and then—
The graves came to an end.
A small, grassy field stretched out from the edge of the graveyard. A couple of dandelions patterned it, already white, some of the seeds blowing away in the wind. At the edge of the field rested what might have been a tomb or monument of some sort, but it was worn down with age, moss growing over the stone. A small fountain—still, amazingly, in use—bubbled a little bit away from it, the lip just big enough for two people to sit.
And there, at the edge, waited Ava.
She didn't look like a fox, this time. She looked like her—pink robes, a fox mask, hands wringing in her lap. She had her head turned away from Skuld, staring across the field; Skuld wasn't sure if she was looking at something, or if she was just lost in thought.
Skuld hesitated for half a heartbeat before striding across the field to reach her. She settled on the edge of the fountain, too, casting a sideways glance towards Ava. When she didn't say anything, her eyes flicked away, scanning the field, going over the run-down graveyard and tomb, and finally resting on the forgotten city in the distance.
The silence persisted for several long moments. There were many things that Skuld could've said to break it, but she found herself asking in a hushed whisper: "What happened here?"
Ava shifted a little, as if just realizing that Skuld was there. When she spoke, her voice was slow and deliberate, but normal, without the quiet hiss and crackle of fire or the painful grating aftereffects of smoke: "Nothing dramatic. Not in the same way as Daybreak Town, at least. There just…weren't enough Keyblade wielders left, after a while. It didn't make sense for the few remaining to stay when there were so many empty places."
"So Ephemer building this place—it didn't matter. Keyblade wielders died out anyway." She clasped her hands between her legs. "I'm the last."
For a few moments, the only sound was the spray of water from the fountain. Then Ava murmured, voice quiet, "I don't think that's true. That it didn't matter, I mean. It didn't last forever—but nothing does. That doesn't mean that what was built here wasn't important. For a while, Keyblade wielders thrived. They had a home here. A place where they could learn and grow." She finally turned towards Skuld, and she could feel the pointed look, even from behind the mask. "You weren't with the other Union Leaders for very long, either. Would you say that time didn't matter?"
It felt like someone had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart. She shook her head rapidly. "No, I—I loved them. They were my friends. They—" She broke off, then let out a shuddering sigh. "They helped to make me who I am."
Ava gave a decisive nod, and her attention went back out to the graveyard. "We don't get to be with the people we love forever. Time will take everything away from us, eventually. But there are always fragments left behind—of us, and of others. We shape the world, and each other, and it helps to make something new."
It felt a little too much like herself, Skuld thought—like some facsimile of a person that had been created from the remains of who she was. (From the people I loved, she thought, thinking of Lea and Isa as they came to visit the cell, of Zidane and Jim as they helped her travel the worlds, of the faded memories of the other Union Leaders and the time they'd spent together.)
"Once something breaks," Ava continued, "it's hard to make it exactly the same. Even if you have all the pieces, you can still notice the cracks. And trying to fix it is difficult, most of the time. It takes a lot of time and effort and care—but it can still be done. Scala ad Caelum is like that. There wasn't much left of Daybreak Town to recreate, but Ephemer cared enough about this place to try and rebuild it. It thrived for centuries—long after he passed away and he was only a figure in legends."
"He built it for us. He built it because he—" Skuld's voice broke, and she took a shuddering breath to try and steady herself. "Ava," she asked, quiet, "why did you want me to come here?"
Ava was quiet for several long moments.
Skuld thought about breaking it—to ask one of the other questions still clamoring for her attention—but bit her tongue and waited, watching Ava expectantly.
"You—" Ava broke off, and she suddenly looked conflicted. "I wanted you to come here," she murmured, "mostly for selfish reasons."
Skuld shifted a little on the fountain's edge. The wind stirred a little, spraying her with water and carrying dandelion seeds away from the field.
Ava watched them, something almost longing in her posture. "This place isn't my home," she murmured, "and it wasn't built for me. But it's what was left of it. I wanted to see it, once." She paused, and when she continued, there was a slight tremor in her voice: "And you're the last of the Dandelions left. Or one of the last. I'm just as uncertain of where the others ended up as you are. If anyone had a chance of reviving this place—"
She broke off, but Skuld understood. "You wanted me to be the next Master of Scala ad Caelum."
"I did," Ava murmured. "When Luxu got you out, I hoped—but it's not fair of me to ask that of you, really. I've already asked more of you than I really should've. More of all of you."
(For a moment, Skuld looked like a different her, and she found herself staring out across an entirely different field, watching with wide eyes as Ava asked her to be a Union Leader.)
"I was thinking about staying," Skuld admitted quietly, "but—"
"I know. I've been with you for—a long time, now."
Skuld shot her a questioning look.
Ava flashed a ghost of a smile. "I didn't exactly die, in the Keyblade War. My body perished, but my heart didn't. I had to find a way to protect it, or else I would just become a Heartless." She turned away, looking almost troubled. "Luxu—he's survived the centuries by stealing other people's bodies. My method is—not quite the same, but similar. I have enough magic left to me that I can create a temporary construct, but most of the time, I need to rest with—with other people."
It clicked into place, finally. "Me," Skuld breathed. "You've been—that's how I saw you in my dreams, before."
Ava nodded.
"Why did you never—?"
"Speaking to you like this is difficult. It takes up too much of my energy. If I had done this before, I don't know if I would've been able to help you get here."
Skuld sat straighter, something almost frightened running through her chest. "Are you—?"
"Not dying, no. But I'll probably have to go to sleep, for a while. To recover. After this point—you're going to be on your own."
The words made something crack in Skuld's chest. "I don't—I can't—"
Ava glanced at her, and her voice was gentle. "You can. You've made it this far."
"But I still don't know what—" She broke off, eyes burning, and thought about it a moment, trying to put her tangled mess of feelings into words. "Ephemer built this place for us. I should want to stay here, and I do, but I also—what if other worlds fall, while I'm here? And I want to—"
When she fell silent, Ava prompted gently, "What do you want?"
She sucked in a shuddering breath. "I don't know."
Ava was quiet for a few moments, the silence contemplative. "The Master," she said, with a complicated emotion Skuld thought she could identify, "told the Foretellers of a way to access the innermost reaches of someone's heart. To reach deep inside someone and find the core of who they were. In many ways, it was designed to help people when their heart was threatened or damaged. But it could also be used on yourself. You could dive down deep into your own heart, either to fight off something that is hurting you, or to try and figure out who you were and what you wanted for yourself. We used it, mostly, to help people unlock their Keyblades—because they're forged from your heart, after all. But it could be used for other purposes, too." She gave Skuld a tiny smile. "It's called an Awakening."
Skuld took the information and rolled it over in her head. "This would—you think this would help?"
"I don't know. It might help you sort out what route you'd like to take forward. Or it might just give you more questions than answers. It's hard to say."
"But it could help. And it won't hurt anything to try?"
"It shouldn't. It wouldn't be the first time a Keyblade wielder has decided to take on this sort of journey."
Skuld stared at the world around her. In the distance, she could hear Jim and Zidane, talking about something, though she couldn't make out the words. And when she closed her eyes, she saw—
(Lea and Isa. Ephemer and Brain and Lauriam and Ven.
And Xehanort.)
Skuld's eyes snapped open and she steadied her shaking hands. "I want to try it. But how do I—"
"Close your eyes."
Skuld obeyed, the world disappearing and turning dark.
"Now breathe. Focus. Can you feel your heartbeat?"
A steady rhythm, pounding against her chest.
"All Keyblade wielders can sense their Keyblade—it's a part of them, after all. Pay attention to it."
The place where Starlight rested seemed to hum, the weight beside her heart familiar and warm. Crickets chirped. Wind chimes clanged quietly together. The taste of molten metal and spring water rushed against the back of her tongue.
"Now follow that connection—follow it down into the deepest depths of your heart. Allow it to pull you under."
It felt, a little eerily, like her dreams—the ones she'd had before she'd been able to summon Starlight again. She wondered, very abruptly, if this was something she'd experienced before—if her Keyblade had been trying to call out to her, and this was the only way it could do so.
Her ears started to feel clogged. Her head spun a little. It felt like she was sinking under water.
Ava's voice came to her from a distance: "Good luck, Skuld. May your heart be your guiding key."
And then she was falling towards a stained glass platform, glowing far beneath the waves.
I debated back and forth about whether I wanted to do a destroyed Scala or an intact one. In the end, I went with a broken down Scala because, well…even if it DOES survive Dark Road, the passage of time will likely do a number on it. Besides, there's a pretty easy explanation for it being fixed up, provided the Scala we see in KH3 isn't due to some weird memory/time travel shenanigans—someone could've come back to repair things.
And thank you Lacan Shinn and batmanuchiha for reviewing last chapter! For the review responses:
Lacan Shinn: You'll have to see who the final boss is, though you might be able to guess as of the end of this chapter. I'm glad you think the letters were done well! I wasn't too worried about the realism aspect; I KNOW that people will do that sort of thing, sometimes, so I was more just worried about whether or not the emotions came across right. As for the Heartless thing, it's mostly just because she's got a lot of other things on her mind right now.
batmanuchiha: Give your feels a moment to rest and recover, haha. (But I AM glad to know the chapter was as hard-hitting as I wanted it to be; I was really worried about it.)