Here's chapter forty - four. Thank you Dracula X and Vixro for reviewing last chapter!

Chapter Forty - Four: Aftermath

Gillick wasn't really surprised by the order, and wasn't sure how he felt about receiving it. A part of him was upset, considering the fact that this was probably the best chance at striking back at the Keybladers he'd ever get. However, another part of him was almost relieved; he wouldn't have to deal with others, or take orders from anyone. He was free to do what he wanted.

But a bitter taste was still in his mouth, and he knew why. They know I'm a Keyblader. Nothing could ever fix that.

He kept his face carefully blank, and told Silver stiffly, "Fine."

Silver gave him a guarded look from green eyes. "I'll give you some time to gather your things," she allotted grudgingly. "Go."

Gillick whipped around and stalked out of the tent and back to his own.

He pushed through the flap, feeling furious at himself all over again for summoning his Keyblade. He grabbed his sword, still in its sheath, and reattached it to his back. He picked up his munny pouch, then surveyed the tent. Nothing else to take with me, he thought, pressing his lips together in a thin line. He turned around to head out.

At that same moment, Mala pushed her way through the flap of his tent, surprising him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, even though he had a pretty good guess. The Keyblade.

Mala didn't look at him. "W-what happened…I mean, with your Keyblade…"

Gillick snorted in exasperation. "Spit it out," he told her, his voice oddly quiet.

"I mean, just…" she rubbed her arm, not seeming to know what to say. She sighed, still looking down, and finally said, "Thank you for saving me."

Gillick was taken off guard. It was a few moments before he could respond with, "You're welcome." The two remained in silence for several moments before Gillick finally asked, "Is that all you came to say?"

"No!" She spit out the word so quickly that Gillick couldn't help raising an eyebrow. Her head was lifted now, her blue eyes flickering and her expression unreadable; he had no idea what she was feeling. She looked suddenly at a loss for words.

Gillick felt his irritation spilling over. "Well, if you have something to say, say it!" he barked.

Mala shook her head. "I'm sorry, it's just…I'm trying to take all of this in."

Gillick's amber eyes narrowed. "Well, then that makes two of us, doesn't it?" he commented dryly.

"You didn't just find out that someone who said that you could trust was lying to you about something huge," Mala muttered sullenly.

Anger flared inside him. "You just have everything you fought so hard to achieve slip through your fingers," he snapped.

She looked up at him abruptly. "And what exactly did you achieve?" she asked scathingly. "Solitude? Loneliness? Some sort of contorted pride?"

"A life without the Keyblade!" Gillick responded harshly.

Mala shook her head furiously. "Why are you so desperate to get away from the Keyblade?"

"Were you not listening? At all?"

Mala stared at him a few moments, before bursting into unexpected laughter. Gillick felt himself seething. "What?"

She stopped laughing, shaking her head. "You hypocrite."

"What?" Gillick growled.

"You call me a coward for running away," Mala commented, "but you've been running away your whole life."

"That's not true!" Gillick exclaimed, furious.

"Yes, it is!" Mala snapped. "You were scared of what being a Keyblader meant, so you ran away from it! Say what you want about me, but at least I have the courage to accept what I am!"

Gillick clenched his fists. "I'm not going to let some dumb sword decide my fate!" he snapped at her. "I choose what path I'll follow, not the Keyblade!"

Mala looked suddenly sad. "But you have let the Keyblade decide," she whispered. Then she whipped around and headed out of the tent.

Mala left Gillick's tent feeling flustered. She was angry at him for lying to her and Riun, and for what he said, but there was a reluctant part of her that also admired him. What she'd said was true; he had let the Keyblade dictate his life, allowing it to cause him pain and make him run away. But at the same time, he was still trying to be something different.

If nothing else, it gave her back something that she hadn't had since she'd watched Trevor kill the boy from the Dark Army: hope.

She looked to the sky, squinting into the sun. Is it really possible, then, for me to be something more than a thief? She'd dreamed of it for so long, her head in the clouds as she hoped desperately for the days when she might be more than just that annoyance that stalked the back alleys. After the first incident with the Knight and all her experiences since, however, she'd felt as if that dream had been crushed, as well as her spirits. But now…Gillick had just returned a small spark of hope to her.

She glanced back towards the boy's tent, a frown creasing her features. But I still don't know what to do. Hope was great, but it didn't fix any of the confusion that was running rampant through her brain. She felt her heart sink as she remembered one particular thing. The whole reason Riun and I came to the Silver Fang…is because at least this place had someone we knew. What are we going to do now?

She hated to admit it, but she wasn't sure she wanted to see Gillick go. He got on her nerves sometimes, yes, and he'd lied to him, but…she knew him better than anyone here, except Riun. Her shoulders slumped. And we can never fight with the Keybladers again. The thought still left her feeling torn between what she'd learned, and what she'd seen. She felt as if she were about to be crushed all over again.

Mala heard the sound of someone pushing their way out of a tent, and a moment later Gillick brushed past her. Without thinking, she choked out, "Good luck."

She felt him stop, and in the few moments of silence she wondered where the words came from. Then Gillick said, "I don't need luck. I've done this before, remember?" Then he was gone.

Mala clenched her fists, still trying to manage her confused emotions. "But you don't have to…" she whispered. She stopped herself, knowing it would be no use, even if he were still there to hear.

Riun had slipped out of Silver's tent just after Mala, and was now hiding between the tents, hugging his knees and trying to not cry (he was failing). He didn't understand. Why did Gillick hate Keybladers if he was one? And why did he have to leave? And why had he lied?

He sniffled. Gillick…I don't get it… He felt confused and alone at the moment. What was he going to do without Gillick? He had Mala, and he liked her, but he knew the older boy was the one who'd protect them both.

He lowered his head onto his knees. He'd been surprised that Gillick was a Keyblader, but he didn't understand how that was bad, so he didn't know why Gillick had had to lie to them. But his past was so sad, he reminded himself. Maybe he didn't want to be sad anymore. Riun had felt terrible for him after hearing his story; having to fight his brother, having his dreams shattered, having his armor taken from him. He guessed he knew why that would be painful to talk about.

But it didn't make it any easier to accept the lie. And now he was leaving.

Riun finally let his tears flow freely. But I don't want him to go! He was why me and Mala came back!

He knew he didn't need the older boy to be a hero anymore; there were people in the Silver Fang that could teach him. But he'd come to think of Gillick as an older brother…

He didn't know what to do, and even if he did, he couldn't have forced his body to move. So he remained in the same position, his legs pulled up close to him, and continued to cry.

"You know, I think you'll regret doing that."

Silver snorted at Allia's words. "Doing what? Sending him away?"

"What else would I be talking about here?"

Silver closed her green eyes, trying not to let her irritation show. "Why?"

Allia gave a slight laugh. "Well, he's not a half-bad fighter," she admitted, "and he could have a lot of intel on what the Keybladers are up to."

"Didn't you hear him?" Silver asked. "He hasn't been in the Armies for two years."

"Well, that's even less reason to send him away," Allia commented. "He obviously doesn't want anything to do with the Keyblade, and they probably hate him, since he was armor - less twice. Besides, he probably still knows a lot about the Keybladers that could be useful." Both woman were silent for a moment, before Allia ventured, "Unless you don't believe his story…?"

Silver snorted. "Why do you care? What's he to you?" she asked slowly.

"What, to me?" The assassin seemed amused by this. "No one, but a former target, but I guess I owe him for saving my life." She was silent for a little while longer before continuing. "Maybe I'm not understanding how him being a Keyblader at one point is so important."

"It's because the Silver Fang was formed specifically to defeat the Keybladers," Silver retorted, her voice cold. "I will not allow one of them into our ranks."

Allia laughed. "You stubborn fool!" she commented. "You won't let go of your hatred long enough to consider how valuable this guy would be to you, hm? Maybe you should become an assassin; you'll get out of that habit real fast."

"I have no interest in that," Silver informed her, feeling more anger pulse inside her. "And I've had enough of your talking."

As she pushed her way out of the tent, she heard Allia calling after her, "You can't say I didn't warn you!"

Silver strode through the camp, her green eyes narrowed in thought. She remembered her battle with Gillick, and his request afterward. How dare he offer to join, being what he is? she thought furiously. She couldn't believe she'd let him into her organization, even for a brief period. It was unthinkable. It was unforgivable. How can a Keyblader truly fight for an organization who hates them? He was mocking me. She tried to stem the flow of anger, and imagined she did relatively well as she felt all emotion slide from her face.

She found herself at the outskirts of the camp before she realized it. She heard footsteps behind her, and then a voice. "Well? What are you doing here?"

Silver felt a massive wave of indignant fury wash through her. Keyblader. The word burned like fire, but her voice was ice as she turned to face him. "Making sure you leave."

Gillick narrowed amber eyes at her; she could see the anger that burned in them. She knew he probably had some stinging remark he wanted to deliver; part of the arrogance of the Keyblade. But all he said was, "Don't worry; you won't have to see me ever again."

"Good," she growled, feeling a wicked thrill of satisfaction that the Keyblader would get what he deserved. He brushed past her, out of the camp, and she began to head back towards her tent. Neither bothered to look back at the other.

The cloaked man who'd given Gillick his sword sighed. Unable to view events via the sword, he'd been forced to watch events unfold from high up in a tree. He could not hear words from that height, but he still got the gist of what happened. He felt his heart go out to the young boy as he watched him stride out of the camp. "Who would've thought," he murmured, "that a simple action could cause so much trouble?"

He wondered if things would ever be set right; sometimes they were never resolved. But even if Gillick couldn't reconcile himself with those who felt betrayed, he knew that the boy would have to do one thing if he intended to keep from causing himself more misery. He will have to accept the Keyblade.

That's the end of chapter forty - four. Reviews would be great, please?