The World That Never Will Be chapter 20
by the infamous and notorious tocasia
5/26/2019
CHAPTER 20
They spent a lot of time in the spot where the sunrise was best.
"This is nice," Aqua said.
"What is?"
"Just being held. When you're strong, no one thinks you need that anymore."
Sephiroth's contemplative hum. "On some level, everyone needs to be cared for."
She hugged him tighter.
Back at camp, Aqua proclaimed, "Enough is enough. I don't want to lose track of time again. I'm going to do something."
"And what is that, Master Aqua?" Sephiroth was inspecting the tent critically, frowning. Aqua didn't notice anything amiss, and his sudden dissatisfaction didn't seem directed at her.
"I'm going exploring. I should practice the way to Radiant Garden."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"I think I'll be okay on my own." It was easier to say than she thought. "I'm doing a lot better."
"It's true. Your light shines brighter every day." His supportive smile drifted to concern, "Has Xehanort tried anything?"
"No. I think they're just nightmares."
"That's good."
"But I wonder why he hasn't..."
Sephiroth looked at her, assessing, examining. Aqua shivered. She felt naked beneath his gaze, and wished that didn't feel like a bad thing.
"Perhaps he has found an easier target," Sephiroth suggested.
That shouldn't make her feel better! She wouldn't wish Xehanort on anyone! But... not on herself, either.
"You've recovered past that threshold of despair."
"Have I? Really?"
"Yes." And then with sly, secret mirth, "Trust me, I would know."
There it was again, the sense that there was something he half-wanted to tell her.
She wasn't sure she wanted to hear. "If something happened... you'd save me like before, right?"
"Yes, I would."
"I'm stronger now, too," Aqua asserted, hopefully imitating his confidence. He probably saw right through it, and knew she was trying to convince herself also.
The moment for anxious argument passed: Sephiroth wasn't going to stop her. He'd known she wasn't asking for permission. He trusted her, just like he'd trusted her to fight his enemy. "Be careful, Master Aqua." Not a warning; a fond, temporary farewell.
She loved his trust.
"Don't worry, I will," Aqua promised. She summoned her keyblade in case there were heartless.
There weren't any. Sephiroth, with Cloud's... help... had been thorough, or perhaps this had been a safe road already. There was no creepy sensation of being watched, of being hunted. Aqua felt... alone, but free. Burgeoning, blossoming, resurgent independence. She encountered no enemies; only a few small snakes coiled, inoffensive, soaking up the sun, harmless to her. Movement above, tiny shadows... Swallows, nesting high in the cliff face, darting in and out. She smiled. So that's why she hadn't gotten any mosquito bites.
On her skin, the sharp definition of sun and shade in the canyon. Dry and pleasant warmth.
For the first time since rejoining Light, Aqua braved a glance at her wayfinder. Nothing about it had changed. She'd sort of hoped for a sign, some glimmer or sparkle indicating a living connection to her friends' charms. Nothing. But, she wouldn't dive into despair. Ten years. Maybe Terra and Ven had lost theirs; it probably wasn't personal. They had come for her when she'd needed them most, when she was closest to giving up; maybe that had exhausted their protective magic. She didn't feel like giving up anymore. Maybe she didn't need a sign.
Gradually, the ribbon of sky narrowed. Crystals of hexagonal prismatic quartz, opalescent in pink lavender violet, lined the ravine walls, sprouting like unmowed tall grass. Mirror-edged, slender and compact. A full-size double wouldn't ambush her... no, surface proportions didn't guarantee safety. It didn't have to make physical sense...
She wasn't in Darkness anymore.
Aqua looked at her reflection.
"It's strange. I look the same as I remember, but so much has happened. I wondered if when I came through that portal if time would catch up, if I'd instantly age to dust. But there's nothing. Nothing on the outside showing what I endured. I guess... that's a good thing. I kind of want to forget, too."
Meeting blue eyes, lucid and stubborn, Aqua tested her expressions.
...determination, the only sentiment she let herself show in battle.
...kindness, the truth she wore when talking to children.
She felt like she couldn't get her smile quite right... but laughter always had an unfakeable spontaneity to it so that was probably fine.
Ten years and her hair hadn't even grown! ...it should probably be as long as Sephiroth's. It'd get in her way. And his bangs would look silly on her face...
Really, she looked good as herself. She didn't need to change.
Except... it would be a relief to have her armor back.
A form of protection other than Sephiroth's dangerously comforting continuity. Guilt lurched at the suspicion, but...
Aqua peered deeper into the crystal. To see her own light, to see if...
Because she knew. She didn't care about Cloud. Her fear had been for herself, for her light, that she might be corrupted by Sephiroth's darkness. It was her duty to know right from wrong, light from darkness...
She was whole; inner brilliance untarnished. Recovering, like he'd said.
...maybe Sephiroth wasn't really darkness...
Above the darkness! They could both be, like he'd insisted, long ago! Hadn't they proved it, by their survival and escape?
Heh. No. There were some things she shouldn't deny.
...Could she have a hero of darkness and stay in the light?
Why not? She could try.
What was beyond this crystal cave? Aqua stood up and brushed herself off.
...this was as far as she should go for now.
Sephiroth was probably worried about her.
Sephiroth was far more drained from his time in exile than he should have been. It was becoming apparent with each day he took to recover from Cloud's assault.
The darkness had confused him. He'd thought his power magnified in that domain of shadows, but the true difference was minimal. That he had been even the littlest bit deceived, to desire, to prefer, the darkness's strength...
He'd thought it easy to resist; that those who did not were weak. But if it could affect him at all, that was obviously not the case.
He was making progress. Settling in again, re-attuning his vassal souls with the mana of the Realm of Light.
Here, a strict dividing line between light and darkness existed, neatly dancing around good and evil. Harsher truths of reality seemed out of place; death was invisible. Ugliness and brutality were dimmed. Super-saturated in hope, people wielded less suspicion, clumsily.
The slant of magic had a different refractive index. A disorienting change, out of focus. Vicariously, the vertigo they warn you about when you get new glasses and need time to adjust.
...more than the difference between individual worlds. Like orange juice after mint.
Sephiroth no longer dreaded inadvertently manifesting too many wings or suffering mutinous hemorrhagic dissolution, and surety of corporeal stability freed his concentration for other tasks. Force of will summoned for him a cooling breeze and sent the little yellow butterflies tumbling.
Master Aqua hadn't gone far. He could still sense her life and the gradient rippling pulses of the shield he'd last renewed in darkness. He decided to be no more intrusive than that.
The light nurtured her in a way it did not him. Was it to do with the keyblade, or natural vivacity?
A flower, a struggling houseplant, brought outside in spring to bloom...
Such a tired simile, likening pretty young women to flowers. A description laced with praise of weakness, of helplessness, of fragility. Equation with a thing that is only beautiful and nothing more, a temporary trinket to be picked. And once having taken pleasure in her death, left to wilt, forgotten.
It wasn't particularly fair.
So Master Aqua was not a flower, not even a fierce kind with thorns.
She was...
Enduring. Like her name. Strong like water, a force, an element. A stream that may dry seasonally but never truly die. Swells that bow to storm but briefly, returning to stillness as they please, churned by greater currents, driven from within not without, describing timeless perpetuity. If impeded, she would flow around. A soothing light, of protection, sheltering. A fearsome foe, inexorable, unpredictable, ever-changing, merciless. Necessary for life, but capable of taking it too. Indifferent? No, above caring. A spirit to be propitiated. Primal power. Like him; if he was the sky, she was the sea. A fanciful duality. Together, none could withstand... Erosion for all permanence.
She was...
Waves faithfully seeking shore.
Sephiroth entertained thoughts that one day she might be as loyal to him as she was to Terra.
She was coming back.
Traversing break-neck cliffs with relative ease; she was almost-flight. Between mid-air leaps and dashes, Master Aqua made quick work of the uneven terrain. She seemed to hang in the air at the top of her jumps, playfully dismissing gravity as more of a guideline.
Enjoying herself.
The way she moved; her small frown of concentration lifting the weight of self-inflicted disdain. Fleet agility; lively, stubborn, muting the sadness inside. Once, so very near to broken. Keeper of tragedy, heroism's price.
She had the knowledge of despair, and did not require his lessons.
An innocence lost, but not to be mourned.
Sephiroth wished to touch. To catch her, to hold her close and hum, any tune at all; she liked being held; he'd surround her with his voice.
He'd felt her excitement when they'd flown through the portal. Joy at closeness and thrill at speed. She'd been embarrassed to admit it. Was she still? Would Aqua blush until she shut her eyes... or would she be exhilarated, to fly, carefree in his arms... or maybe it wouldn't be such an impressive new experience for her. She'd mentioned a glider. But surely, nothing could fly as high or as fast as he could.
...how did keyblade gliders work? Could she fly through space with him? ...would she like to race?
Yes, he was being very silly.
He could sweep her right off her feet...
Sephiroth watched... and timed his descent perfectly.