I'm still writing up chapters to get ahead, but happy Final Fantasy 7 Day! It's such a beautifully perfect remake, until it makes some incredibly bizarre moves. I won't say more. Celebratory, nonetheless!

Chapter XVII: Wayfinders—Jumping at Shadows
I saw my mother on the street last night
all pretty and strong,
singing 'the road is long'.
I said, "Momma, I know you've tried—"
But she fell on her knees and cried:
Run for cover,
run while you can, baby,
don't look back.
~The Killers

Keyblades weren't forever.

They could be lost. Destroyed by overwhelming force, or shattered by the will of their Wielder as a last resort, to be returned to Kingdom Hearts.

They could be severed. Sent away by their Wielder to find a new inheritor, leaving the previous Wielder to live out the remainder of their life in peace, free from such a curse.

Or they could carry their curse to the bitter end and, with their last breath, the Keyblade will vanish to seek out a new fool, perhaps even a child, to bear its burden.

She'd been that child once, Aqua thought. Once that burden had seemed light.

But now all she saw, as she leaned her head back against the cold window's glass which fogged under her breath, was her Father's great blade clattering to the ground and vanishing in a shimmer of light.

She'd been close enough. She probably could've grabbed it. Maybe her hand could've kept it. Now where had it gone? Did someone already bear the burdensome weight of a legacy they couldn't even begin to imagine?

With smoldering injustice, she wondered if someone else's hand might already be gripping the blade belonging so rightfully to a man who should still be alive.

But he was truly gone, Aqua knew. She still had to remind herself—it hadn't worked its way down into her heart yet. When he was her whole world, when he had brought her here from wherever she had come from, when he had supplied everything she ever needed—how could such a thing work its way down in a week? In a month? In a year?

In a lifetime?

Keyblades had names, too. His had been the Lightseeker. It had just appeared to him one day, a young man doing nothing other than repairing trains in some faraway town where, at least how he had always told it, the sun never truly set.

Days later, Master Yen Sid had found him and took him in. The old Master had been waiting years for the Lightseeker to reappear, for he knew of the location of only one other blade—his own, the Oathkeeper, which had eventually come to Ventus, once Yen Sid had been forced to give it up.

Father had never told them the story of what malevolent evil had been so threatening that the wizened old Master, still out there somewhere, would feel so compelled. And now, that was a story she'd never hear.

And she'd never be able to, as Father had never taught them how to leave Radiant Garden—perhaps for fear that Terra might actually do it.

Terra's great blade was the Way to Dawn, and her own was simply called the Kingdom Key. That had been the third thing her Father told her, when he first found her in some nameless orphanage—right after "It's my pleasure to meet you, little Aqua—would you like to come with me?" and "I will always take care of you."

And he had. It just turned out that she hadn't been able to take care of him.

There was one more Keyblade out there, that Father knew of. He always claimed there were only five, still. He himself never knew why—and neither did Yen Sid, nor any Master in memory. Some sort of War had wiped them all out, that was all they knew.

When they were much younger, she and Terra and Ven had endlessly speculated if they would soon have a fourth sibling, indeed, they constantly had pestered Father about it. What was their Keyblade like? Was it a boy or girl (Aqua had always hoped for a little sister)? Why was it taking so long to arrive?

He'd never known, and it had never appeared. The fifth Keyblade had remained a mystery.

"Aqua, it's your turn." Terra said quietly.

"Oh, yeah, okay." Aqua murmured, and glanced back over the board. Terra had moved exactly where she had expected, and Ven had already lost most of his pieces. Without hesitation, she reached out and made the three moves she had planned out six turns ago.

Normally, both of them falling into her trap would bring a proud smirk to her face, as Terra and Ven tried their hardest to finagle her plans out of her. But she could offer nothing this time, and neither of them seemed terribly interested.

"Your turn, Ven."

But Ven, too, had drifted off and was even more inattentive than Aqua. He reclined back on the lounge, one hand behind his head as he fingered his crown necklace with the other. They'd gotten that for a birthday many years ago, joking that he was the spoiled little prince of the family.

"Ven." Terra added, gently.

"Hm? Yeah?" Ven murmured, glancing down at them.

"It's your turn."

"Oh, right."

Leaning forward, Ven thoughtlessly swiped the closest piece he could and tipped it forward a few spots. Aqua knew he had no plans.

"Done." He said simply, collapsing back.

Terra grunted as he received his turn again. His great forehead furrowed as he leaned on his hands, overseeing the board and, Aqua guessed, re-thinking his entire plan again to ensure it fit perfectly, as if whole eons had gone by rather than just two turns. His dedication was always charming, though less so today.

"So what do we do?" Ven finally spoke, looking at Aqua. Asking her.

Because she was in charge now?

"We need to act." Terra replied, lifting a hand to move, but then thinking better of it.

Aqua thought about responding, but didn't. Why was she in charge now?

"Yeah, but how?" Ven answered, leaning forward slightly, now on his side.

"Look, it's just the facts: We found Shinra's lapdogs in the Castle trying to catch that…thing." Terra frowned, "We sure as hell aren't getting into Shinra, but we could get into the Bastion," he sighed, "Ven, you really don't know where your friend could be?"

"Well, it was above the Seventh Heaven." Ven sighed, falling back, "But that's a pile of rubble now. And I don't know…where Aerith lives…" he frowned, likely wondering why he had never asked.

"So what else can we do? If we get to the Castle, we could talk with Lord Ansem. Or at least with Aeleus or Dilan—they could tell us where Zack or—or—"

"Cloud." Aqua supplied, eyes drawn back out the window to Father's little garden, were they had sprinkled his ashes.

"Cloud, right." Terra nodded, "All our answers lie there."

"But didn't the last list put out by the Bastion…didn't it have her name on it?" Ven's voice fell low, almost as if he was afraid she'd overhear as he gestured back into the house. There, unfortunately for all, Lucretia's body lay entombed and preserved by blizzard concoctions that had taken Aqua a whole day to conjure properly.

They just hadn't known what to do.

"We haven't reported anything—" Ven continued, "So how would that be possible unless…"

"Someone at the Bastion was in on the whole thing." Terra finished, "Right. That's what we need to figure out. And we won't be able to do it from here. We need to speak with Lord Ansem."

"Shouldn't we, y'know, ask what Aqua thinks?" Ven looked over at her, eyes unsure, "I mean, she's—now that she's—"

"The Master is dead." Terra interrupted, his deep voice cracking as his hands knit together, "We all have to act together. We have to carry on his mission. No more hiding. No more waiting." He nodded, glancing back himself to where Lucretia's body lay, "The truth will come out."

Aqua didn't know what to think, herself. Terra was right—but he was also reckless. Ven had been nodding along with him, only checking over with her now and then for affirmation she couldn't provide. Why look to her? She wasn't Father.

She didn't have any vision beyond his. She had simply trusted him—she could guess at his intentions, speculate about his plans, draw a few hypotheses about where he intended all their work here to go—

But how could she possibly presume to sit where he sat and speak with his authority?

That wasn't hers. It was his.

"Aqua, listen, I—I know…" Terra spoke quietly and earnestly, "I know. But sitting here will just get us killed." He paused, swallowing, "Like her. We need to act or it will happen more. That's what the Master would've wanted."

Picking up his tiny piece in two of his great fingers, Terra moved it to stand beside one of Aqua's, one she had intended to sacrifice, but he did not take it. Sighing, he stood to his feet and, marched across the room to begin clothing himself with his gold and red armor.

As Aqua watched Terra gear up for war, Ven's gaze was torn between them, "Terra, I, shouldn't we wait for—"

Terra, already garbed up to his torso and grabbing his cloak to cover it all, simply stilled, "Aqua…?"

"I'm not Father." Aqua answered, standing to her feet, "And I am not the Master. If you both go, I will, too."

Terra smiled—a half-way, world-weary upturn of exhaustion, "Good. Good."

And so it went—in silence, each of them attached their armor, piece by piece, and wrapped themselves up in their cloaks, which now attached to the back of their necks.

They had each smithed these armors for themselves when they came of age, under Father's watchful eye, to match the Keychains they had carved to turn their blades into their own forms: Ven's that dark grey gear-tip, opposite his grip to accommodate his unique way of holding the blade; armor silver to match, with golden wings falling back from the elbows and helmet.

Terra's long, gold-blade with those enormous tumblers cutting through its tip, his armor gold and red to match, with broad and thick chestplate and pauldrons.

Aqua's dark blue blade, with those intricate geometric diamonds that she had spent weeks drawing out on piles of scrap paper, her armor slim for ease of movement, all curving back, as if just struck by a wave—a design of which she was very proud.

But what would have been shocking two weeks ago, armored and garbed, with their helmets tucked away under their robes, now felt hollow; almost a dirge.

Their silent procession out of door and down their hill, looking back up at the monastery one more time, only made it feel more so.

The town was quiet, as evening was setting in. The fira lamps were just being lit, a gentle wind blew through the trees and flowers, and the last rays of the sun glanced over the Garden's great walls, painting their light blue hue with bit a bit of a greenish glow, while leaving the upper ramparts of the castle bathed in light.

The walk to the Bastion wasn't long, as every level of the Garden possessed a pathway up to it, but the silence seemed to drag it on for hours on end—just Aqua and her brothers, walking through the emptying streets, toward whatever awaited them in that enormous castle.

As they approached a small crowd seemed to have formed around the entrance of their district. The iron gate, the district's sole opening in the walls that wrapped the Bastion and its gardens up around its whole circle, was surrounded by a mumbling, disgruntled crowd, who seemed to be waiting for something or someone—a protest, perhaps?

Terra led them, and the crowd parted around his bulk as they approached the gates. Aqua could hear them better now: mumbled complaints about Wutai, murmurs that the Royalty and Lord Ansem were not doing nearly enough to respond to the terrorist crisis.

She kept her face resolutely forward, but Aqua couldn't help but wonder if the people in this, the highest district, were troubled this much—how did the gates of the lower districts look now?

"We seek…" she heard Terra announce to the two guards beyond the gate, "We seek an audience with the Lord Protector!"

"Do you have an invitation?" one guard inquired from within his iron helmet, as Aqua came to stand beside her brother, and Ven beside her.

Terra shook his head and raised his hand, summoning the Keyblade. Little gasps sounded through the crowd as a few stumbled back. The guards did the same.

With unthreatening gentility, Terra pointed his blade at the great iron lock upon the center of the bars, and, with a click, the gate creaked open.

"Is that sufficient?" he asked, stepping through and dismissing the blade, with Ven upon his tail and Aqua trailing, closing the gate up behind them.

"G-go tell someone that the Lord has guests." One guard swallowed, stepping back to allow them to pass, as the other ran on ahead.

Perhaps not how she would've done it, Aqua thought, but she couldn't deny Terra's efficiency. They were all something of a legend in the Garden, and Terra had no qualms with leveraging that sort of impression.

In moments, they were down the marble paths that wound through the bountiful Gardens of the castle, passing over running rivers and around blossoming fountains as they approached one of the seven great oaken doors that led into the Bastion's winding halls.

Apparently, the guard who ran ahead had done his job well, for when their path ended at the Bastion's door, it was already open, with the apprentice Braig leaning against it, cross-legged and cross armed, smiling.

"Well, howdy! If it ain't the heroes!" he stepped off to stand tall and bowed, "Welcome to Hollow Bastion. You here for the old man?"

"We wish to speak with Lord Ansem, yes." Terra affirmed, as Aqua only watched warily. She didn't like nor trust Braig—he was utterly, confoundingly, unpredictable.

"Well, ole' pops is down in the library." He swept an arm inward in greeting, "I'll take you there, if you want."

Checking briefly back with both Aqua and Ven, Terra nodded, "Thank you."

And with that, they followed Braig inside, as the great door groaned closed behind them, taking with it the last streams of evening light.

"Hey, I wanted to say I'm sorry to hear about the Master—we were all so bummed," Braig spoke, his voice echoing through the great chambers and soaring ceilings as he led them down the halls, "We're gonna try to get a statue up of him, somewhere. Dude really deserved it."

"Thank you," Terra answered, "He was a great man."

"Yup, we feel exactly the same way."

Aqua restrained herself from speaking, though she wished so badly to say that a man of Braig's caliber had no place talking about Father, led alone about statues of him "somewhere". He had no idea.

None whatsoever.

Their path kept descending, down staircase and open-air gravira lifts that wound around like clockwork in the open center of the Bastion, under the colorful lights that streamed through the stained glass above. Braig kept talking about this or that, which Aqua mostly ignored, as Terra engaged him as minimally as possibly. Another turn, another hall, another dozen rooms passed. The Castle was endless.

Ven glanced over at her worriedly, as they both looked at Terra and Braig's back. Clearly, she knew, he was trying to sort out the bizarre situation they were in—someone at the Castle knew they were onto something, and that person (persons?), would soon know they were here. They had to be on constant guard—anything could happen if that party felt threatened.

"—eh, well, I guess we're here!" Braig announced, pushing through two double doors into the Castle's library, "Guess you won't get to hear about how I got out of that barrel—hey, Pops! Pops! You got some visitors!"

Bowing again, Braig allowed them to pass into the maze of a library—cases taller than Terra wound about the room in expanding patterns that Aqua imagined only made sense from above, splitting off from the center-hub, from which intricately carved double-staircases wound up to a second level.

On any other day, this would be paradise for Aqua. But today, it would be purgatory, at best.

"He's right down that row," Braig spoke after them, "Just on the other side of the heart."

Nodding, Terra led them forward, past the rows of books that vanished so far in the distance, out into the open area space.

"Lord Ansem, we've come to tell you—" Terra began, expecting to see the Lord Protector glancing over a shelf, or perhaps reading to the Princess.

But he was nowhere to be seen. The library was utterly, absorbingly, quiet.

And that was when Aqua knew something was wrong.

Ven's muffled cry was the sign that she was right.

"Now, now, now, I'm gonna need y'all to be very, very quiet, eh?" Braig threatened with a grin, as Aqua turned to find Ven's neck trapped in the larger man's elbow and a short handcannon pressed up against his forehead.

Immediately, Keyblades were in hand and pointed at the threat. The sinking feeling in Aqua's gut hung lower. They had found the rot, and it had festered deep.

"Let him go." Terra warned, voice low.

"As if!" Braig laughed, "Look, I didn't really want to do this—I mean, who would want to be at the receiving end of that?" he gestured briefly at their blades, before jamming the weapon's barrel back up against Ven's head.

Ven! Aqua began formulating a plan, her heart racing as she watched Ven squirm, his bright eyes fearful as his hands tried to grasp out his Keyblade. It was all so sudden—

"But I don't really have a choice anymore, y'know? I gotta face the music eventually, right?" he sighed, pulling Ven back further, "Because I've been a real bad boy."

Braig began to move, then, circling the edge of the library's open center and back towards one of the great rows of books that disappeared off under the second floor. If Terra could keep the brunt of the attention, Aqua thought, she might be able to get off enough of a spell to distract—just enough that Ven could pull out his Keyblade—

"What do you want?" Terra growled through gritted teeth, following them at a distance.

Braig shrugged, causing Aqua to take a sharp intake as his muzzle carelessly grazed through Ven's hair, "I just want to know how the girl's doing."

"What?" Terra's eyes narrowed, as Aqua's blood froze.

No—

"Yeah, that chick who was staying with you—did she make it?" he smirked, "Or am I just too damn good of a shot?"

"You bastard!" Terra roared, breaking some solemn silence that had held them all entranced, "You're the one covering for Shinra! You are the one who killed her! You are the corruption at the heart of the Garden!"

"Ouch, don't you ever think about how your words might make a guy feel?" Braig shook his head, before falling back out of view with a grin, down one of the rows of book, "Guess I'll just have to take out my hurt on this little fella'!"

"Terra!" Aqua exclaimed, as with another roar, her brother dashed forward after them.

Oh, Ven! Don't—he couldn't…. Not here, and not to someone like Braig or whatever darkness was happening here in this Castle. Not now! Stopping herself from chasing after them, Aqua swallowed and, with what little memory she had of this place, charted herself down a neighboring row of books.

She'd come up behind him, and Terra would come from the front. Then they'd get Ven back and take out Braig.

Dashing around a corner, nearly pulling the whole shelf down as she turned, Aqua trained her ears to hear where Braig's blasphemous cackling was coming from—and she followed it, down and to the left, then right, followed ever after by Terra's thunderous steps.

Rounding another corner of ancient wood and books, Aqua heard a great thud and gasp and, pulling to a stop around one more turn, she saw it: Braig, hacking up against a shelf, books and papers scattered around his feet, Ven still cupped in his elbow, as Terra held the Keyblade up to his forehead.

"I'll say it once more: Let. Him. Go." Terra warned, as Aqua moved to join him. Braig had no escape. What was he thinking?

"I'm gonna go with, ah…" Braig paused, nudging something behind him. "No?"

And suddenly, the bookshelf behind him slid back and Braig, Ven still in his arms, fell back into its darkness. Terra, without a second look, followed and Aqua, without another choice and worry for Ven overflowing, dove in after.

It was only a small white room, she noticed first, with nowhere else to go. Terra now stood menacingly over a collapsed Braig, who was wheezing and laughing and still gripping Ven close.

"Gotcha—" he started, before Terra swung with his enormous blade, tossing the handcannon from Braig's hand and carving up the side of his face in the process. The blood splattered back against the white walls, as Braig screamed and swore as Ven wrenched himself from his arms.

"Ven! Are you okay?" Aqua exclaimed, as she quickly reached out to receive him, pulling him back from the squirming form of Braig, who twisted and convulsed on the floor, pulling himself back as he grasped at his face.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Ven shook his head, rubbing at his hair where Braig had been pressing, "I—sorry I wasn't paying attention—"

"Hush," Aqua chided, pressing her own hand to his head to check for herself, "We've got it taken care of now."

"You were saying?" Terra bit out, still towering over the bleeding apprentice.

But Braig had begun to cackle again, as he reached for something on the wall with the free hand that wasn't pressed again his face, blood leaking through the fingers.

"I was saying…got—cha…"

Just then, the entrance behind them shut and the ground beneath them gave way, sending the three of them stumbling as Aqua realized with terrible clarity: this wasn't some secret room.

It was a gravira elevator.

And they were now falling deeper than she knew the Bastion could go.

"Where are we going?" Terra dismissed his Keyblade and grabbed Braig by his bloodied collar, lifting him from the floor, "Stop this thing!"

Braig, only one eye visible between the blood-coated white fingers of his gloves, bit out a shaky grin, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Aqua?" Terra shook his head, and glanced back a her, eyes pleading and full of fear.

But before Aqua could respond, the gravira elevator slowed with a ding and came to a full stop. Precipitous silence held the moment, as the white doors slid open across from Terra.

There, on the other side, stood tall, giant-like Dilan: equal even to Terra. His face was stony and firm, and he held two of his famous spears, each in one hand.

Everything seemed to slow, as Aqua froze. This was it. The Garden's rot matched the Bastion's depth.

Dilan was in on this secret—so came the mounting horror.

And how many of the others, with him?

Was the whole world darkening?

Summoning the Keyblade, Aqua flew forward, batting one of the spears Dilan had begun to raise out of the way, forcing him to spin back, and her to duck low as he brought the other one whistling around with him.

Striking out low with her foot, Aqua connected with Dilan's firm form, like a stone wall, forcing her to turn her strike into a leap that she could twist off of, spinning the Keyblade around to strike at his shoulder.

A spear came up to block, with a twin to join it on the other side, just as Ven's Keyblade came down, too. Behind them, she could hear Terra grunt as he dropped Braig and followed after them.

Dilan, noting this, frowned and jumped back, swinging his spears to create distance.

"What are you doing?" Aqua demanded, brandishing her blade as she took in the room: another pure white laboratory-setting, with a single hall extending from each side, which were themselves faced with glass.

In the center, behind Dilan, another room seemed to be set up within the hallway, like some sort of cage connected to the walls by enormous bronze pipes and harnesses—but the bulky form of the PKF commander blocked most of her view.

"We're saving the world." Dilan stated, firmly, "I do not expect you to understand that."

"How is murder and corruption 'saving the world'?" Aqua demanded.

"When the only alternative is destruction," Dilan hefted a spear, "You must make unsavory choices."

Simultaneously, Terra charged Dilan, just as Dilan threw his spear, whistling through the air with the force of a bullet. With a thunk, it embedded itself into Terra's side, nearly puncturing his armor.

Aqua, with Ven in tow, moved to support him, as he stumbled forward, swinging mightily at Dilan who, redirecting his attack with his remaining spear, shoved him into Ven, knocking the boy to the ground.

Leaping, Aqua fired off a Fira spell that fell upon Dilan as he retreated, just singing him before he stepped into the left hallway and closed the door after him.

Running to fall beside Ven, Aqua moved to pull him to his feet as she heard a click behind them—turning, she watched as Braig's blood-stained teeth grinned and he gave a little wave as the elevator doors closed behind him.

What was going on—

Beside her, Terra groaned as he dislodged the spear from his side, "What's…that?"

Following his eyes, Aqua looked through the door into the open cage. Something rumbled in there, or kicked into gear, as a dark mist began to form along the floor, seeping out to where they stood.

"The…the darkness…" Terra gasped, watching as it reached his feet.

Pulling Ven up, Aqua stood tall and threw her gaze around the room—the other hallway had somehow been closed off and she rushed to one to check for locks that the Keyblade could undo—catching then, just out of the corner of her eye, a form that stood beyond the glass to the right, staring at her with calm, amber eyes.

Xehanort.

And that was when Aqua knew it was much worse than she could've ever imagined.

Raising the Keyblade with a shout, she drove with all her force against the glass—but it did not crack, only sending a quaking reverberation up her arm. Grunting, she braced her feet and swung again, this time sending a spider-web of cracks out, up and down the whole viewing wall.

But Xehanort didn't even shift. He just watched.

"Aqua!" Ven exclaimed, calling her back.

Turning then, she saw it, forming from the mist in the center of the doorway to the caged room.

A small creature, ink-black and hunched over, with a bulbous head and two long, stretched claws. Twin antennae twisted and contorted atop its head, just above a pair of glowing, yellow eyes that eyed the three of them with an intensity that Aqua could only describe as hunger.

And then, behind them, out of that mist, came another two. Then another. And another.

"They're…using the darkness…" Terra murmured, transfixed on the creatures.

Aqua whipped back to the window, and shouted at Xehanort, "What is this—this sickness!?"

"Heartless." She heard him, muffled through the glass, "They are called heartless."

Aqua raised her blade again to strike her way through with one final blow, but Ven again shouted, this time for Terra, which called her back in time to see Ven leap forward to strike down one of the creatures, these horrific Heartless, as he stumbled forward for Terra, whose eyes remained transfixed upon them.

As it faded back into mist, only as more formed from that cage, Aqua knew her priorities.

"Terra—let's go!" Aqua ran to him, raising him from the knee he had fallen to, "Break down the walls, I'll handle these monsters!"

"The door…" Terra repeated, shrugging Aqua off, "They're coming from the door…"

Aqua blanched as she followed his eyes with confusion—there, over where the Heartless now seemed to pour out from the cage, rolling over each other like a swarm of rats, sure enough, there was a door.

With a black, pulsating Keyhole.

A door to darkness? The legends? Was that what this was? What Terra was talking about?

Leaping forward, Aqua batted away two more of the creatures that swarmed around Ven's feet, dispatching their grasping, cutting, ice-cold claws into mist. But their eyes kept multiplying, kept watching, kept staring at them with that horrible glow—and Aqua felt herself sinking into them, as they piled up, grasping, clawing, and climbing around her.

"Aerora!" Aqua exclaimed, sending a blast of wind circling out around her and tossing the Heartless back to crash against the side walls. Some met Ven's blade in the process—but even more poured out from the cage, even as she and Ven stood back to back carving at them; they were coming like a wave to wash them away.

"Don't worry!" Terra suddenly announced, standing tall and aiming his blade, "I'll lock it—that'll keep them back."

Ven nodded and ducked out of the way, tumbling to let Terra have a clear shot. Aqua was more hesitant, carving again through another row of creatures that slid and twisted so unnaturally—she just couldn't get Xehanort's gaze out of her mind, as he stood there watching like they were animals in a cage.

But Terra didn't wait. Lifting his blade, and pointing through the swarm and to the door, he focused and, with a roar, released a great beam of blinding light from the tip of his blade, knocking Aqua back herself from the blast.

As the beam plunged into the door's depths, the entire laboratory shook with a great, heavy click—and all was silent for a moment.

Then there was the sound of a breeze, as Aqua jumped back up to run for Terra.

Then that breeze became a whistling current, which caused her robe to rustle and her hair to blow across her face. Terra was just lowering his blade, looking over his work as the remaining Heartless froze in place.

But then that breeze became a roaring, empty wind, a tumult that whipped about the whole room, even tossing the Heartless up into the air. The whole space shook, as the gust became a biting, churning hurricane which didn't seem to be letting up—and Aqua saw it then; the door had flown open.

Grabbing Terra's arm and reaching out for Ven, Aqua began to chant a spell—a haste, a counter Aero, something, anything, to slow what was happening.

The wind was a screeching, blinding gale now that nearly forced her eyes closed as she reached for Ven, who's light form had already lifted into air and who was also grasping back for her, helplessly.

"Aqua-!"

"Ven-!"

And just like that, it was too late. Aqua felt her feet leave the ground and she was sent tumbling forward, and Terra with her, crashing through the heartless and the cage's small opening. As Terra disappeared behind her with a shout, she grasped out and caught the edge of the entrance with the tips of her fingers.

Grunting, Aqua tried to pull herself forward, even as it felt like being torn in two. The darkness, the door, the wind, they all felt the same and were pulling at her, whipping at her, with such great force.

Her whole body shaking, Aqua reached forward for a better grip—but as Ven came tumbling forward, she instinctively reached out to grab him and, with the force of his roll, found her fingers slipping from their hold and her whole self sinking back.

And there, as the darkness engulfed her at the peak of the gale's deafening roar, she saw Xehanort, one more time, on the other side of the glass.

Just smiling.

And with that, the whole lab vanished, and it seemed, the whole Castle for that matter. There was darkness and light and wind and quiet and tumbling, unknowable, unrecognizable nothing. Color and lights and warmth and cold.

Father, I'm so sorry.

Then, suddenly, all was still, and Aqua found her world righting.

She was standing in a green field, at the bottom of a tall hill. But as she looked down, she saw that her hands weren't her hands and her feet weren't her feet, rather, the whole scene seemed dreamlike in quality; as if it were fuzzy around the edges and she couldn't quite control where she was going.

Then she, or rather, whatever she wasn't, stepped forward, wandering up the hill before them. Aqua couldn't look up yet, though she felt herself trying to crane her neck. She somehow felt far shorter than herself.

What was going on? What about the Bastion? The Garden? The Apprentices? Where were Terra and Ven? How could they, how could she, fail their Father so quickly?

But still, whatever she was in, whoever she was, simply marched quietly up this hill, not a care in the world. The top was cresting soon, she could tell, and as it did, she found herself looking out over another, even broader field, upon which an enormous structure was being built—all ramparts and towers and a great central pillar; a castle.

It was all so dreamy and distant: it was there, but it was not. She could feel it, but she couldn't. The air felt cool and fresh; and the light more splendorous and peaceful than she knew possible.

There was someone standing next to her, maybe? Someone who had been waiting at the top of the hill for her?

But she couldn't tell herself to turn—was it even her body?

Her view was following up the great constructed structure, covered with hundreds of people at work. Above it, just beyond its highest turret, a great light filled the sky with a warm yellow; an immense form, closer than any moon she had ever seen, shaped in some sort of—

A heart. It was the great heart.

Kingdom Hearts, bathing the world in the warmth of its light.

But her view didn't remain there long, as her eyes swung to the right, to the person next to her and she felt herself, or whoever she was, smile as she looked upon a tall boy beside her, a couple years younger than Ven, with sharp blue eyes and long silver hair, tied up behind his head in a knot.

Then she spoke with a voice not her own, nor with words that she intended to say:

"What a lovely evening, don't you think, Sephiroth?"

"Aerith, c'mon, ya really don't have to—" Cid was insisting, as Aerith cleared a small bit of space on his oil-stained and tool-covered workbench to place a plate of dinner: potatoes, with some vegetables and a glass of clear water.

"No, no, I want to." Aerith insisted, "I'm just…trying to stay busy, right?"

Cid paused, stroking his chin, "Yeah, I gotcha. Ain't we all."

"It's…really quite good. Tifa can work wonders." Aerith offered a little smile, and turned to leave.

"That she can—Aerith," Cid suddenly interjected, "I, uh, I just…wanted to tell you somethin' I thought you should know."

Aerith stopped reaching for the door, to look back expectantly at Cid, as he walked out from under the Highwind and wiped his grimy hands with an even grimier rag.

"I, uh…I remember when your old man, Gast, I mean," Cid sighed, "When he worked at Shinra. Saw…your ma a few times, too, now, I guess… and Aerith—I don't know how—"

"Just say it, Cid."

"Ah, f*ck me, I'm sorry—it's just that, I don't know how, but she hadn't aged a day. Not in twenny-damn-years." Cid nodded, chewing his lip slightly, as he turned toward dinner, "And I guess that's all. Thought you should know. I'm real sorry about it all."

Aerith nodded, trying to process the indecipherable, "Thank you, Cid."

"Yeah…yeah…" Cid nodded, as Aerith reached again for the door and exited out into the cool night air of the Garden, back toward the house.

"Look, y'know…if you need anything…" Cid rubbed at his face, "Well, you should probably go to Zack or somethin'. But if he's out saving the trees or the solar system or whatthef*ckever, well…you know where to find me."

Nothing, then, could stop a brief, earnest smile from appearing on Aerith's lips—even a sudden exhale.

"Thank you, Cid. Really."

And with a half-shrug, half-nod, Cid returned to his work and Aerith exited into the shadowy evening.

What was she supposed to make of all that? One more mystery to throw upon the pile?

She still believed what she told that monster Hojo, the answers…they didn't really matter, in the end. What mattered was her family. Her friends. Zack. Her Mother.

But amidst her…loss, she couldn't stop the questions from creeping about the edges of her mind.

As she passed under her beautiful Morning Glories, proudly intertwined with Trumpets Vines over the arching trellis, Aerith saw Squall's firm form standing at the far edge of the back Garden, looking into the darkness. He and Rinoa were constantly keeping watch now, circling the house and its grounds with their expert quiet.

Aerith sighed. When had this become a prison?

Pushing through the small wooden back door, she entered back into the warmth of the house, which still held the lingering scent of Tifa's homecooking in the air. It had been a quiet dinner—and Zack had left soon after, Cloud with him, restless and wanting to fight the whole of Shinra, find Vincent, and tell the Bastion everything, but only after Aerith had pretended to go to an early bed and he'd promised only to do the second.

Otherwise, he hadn't left her side since they had stumbled themselves out of that sewer exit.

"Oh, Aerith, hey—" Tifa exclaimed, as Aerith passed by the kitchen, "So all the cleaning's done, everything's put away, and I'll just be finishing some scrubbing in here."

"Thank you, Tifa." Aerith smiled, genuinely—but yet, still feeling a sense of distance.

"Just—just let me know if you need anything!" Tifa added, nervously wiping her hands on the white apron, "Not like any of us is going anywhere, right?"

"Right." Aerith nodded, recognizing again their state as she turned from the kitchen and moved down the hall to the living room and, with a long breath, collapsed onto the lounge.

Aerith had tried everything, cleaning, sowing, reading, writing, work—but everything just had this vague sense of emptiness that tugged at her. What was she supposed to do now?

She had met her mother and lost her mother, like a dream. She had cried all her tears and talked it over endlessly with Zack. She had made her commitment, she knew who her family was, but still, she couldn't shake that image of her mother, bathed in light, looking at her with those proud, kind green eyes that held something so deep that Aerith had only just dipped a single toe into.

She realized absently that the white marble was in her hand again, rolling between her fingers. She did that a lot now, while thinking.

So what was she supposed to do? Zack wanted to move, she wanted to stay. She wished she could turn back time to how things were just a few weeks ago, as she waited expectantly for Zack and the others to return from another jaunt around the world; when she would look out at her garden wistfully and think of all the lovely things they would do together.

Yet here they were now, with nothing good ahead of them. Stay quiet and be hunted by Shinra? Report crimes they had no evidence for—and admit their own in the process? If only…if only Ifalna had…had…

The quiet creak of the floorboards was the only sound that warned Aerith that Merlin had entered the room. Without a word, he plodded to the table in front of her and set down a little saucer and cup, filled with rooibos tea and flavored with a few rose petals.

Without looking at her, Merlin then moved to his well-worn chair and sat down.

No speech. No solution, or even an attempt. No more apologies or investigations.

He just made her tea, like he had at eight when she had tried, and failed, to ride her bike down a set of stairs from the Fourth District and come home sobbing, bruised and scraped.

And just like he had at eleven when her first King Protea transplant didn't take and the poor flower dried up even before the winter came, and Aerith had felt like such a failure.

And just like he had when Zell had dumped her after two weeks in ninth grade, and left her frustrated and crying in the central park of the fifth district, where Merlin had found her and brought her home.

And just like he had every night when Aerith had stayed up for days straight to study for final exams, even as he insisted that she was more than prepared. He had been right, of course.

And just like he had when she came home for the first time, in some heady mixture of exuberant and concerned, to tell him about a certain young man who had asked her out on a date to the great arboretums of the Sixth District.

Reaching out and feeling the warmth of the cup, far more than the cold facts of any answers, Aerith felt a few more tears well. With a silent prayer of thanks to her mother and whoever else was out there, she picked up the cup and smelled its earthy, yet sweet, aroma.

She may still not be completely moored, but maybe, just perhaps, she was a little more certain today than she was yesterday that she knew where shore was.