The Key
God of War and all associated characters and interpretations are property of Sony Santa Monica. Kingdom Hearts and all associated characters are property of Disney and Square Enix.
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Kratos stomped through the woods of Midgard, Mimir dangling from his hip. The sun had started to set as he exited Tyr's temple, and finally dipped past the horizon as he neared his home.
"I must say"—his friend began—"that was an easier solution than I expected."
"The Vanir have a steep history of esoteric magic connected to the natural world," Kratos replied. "It is only natural that they developed some sort of magic to assist in breeding practices." He sniffed. "I did not even have to be there. Freya discovered the spell herself.
"Aye, perhaps your assistance wasn't strictly required, Brother," Mimir began softly. "But the fact that you were there to begin with speaks volumes. Let's face it, you're not the biggest fan of the Elves, nor do they care much for you, and I doubt that will ever change. And yet, in spite of all that you, one of, if not the, central figure of Ragnarök, are acknowledging their plights. Right now, the only races that are intermingling on a regular, unprompted basis are the Vanir and Aesir, and that's due to sheer proximity if nothing else."
Kratos nodded. "We must be better," he intoned. "Sequestering ourselves in our own comfortable, carved out pieces of the Realms is how things were under Odin. Now that people have finally started to rebuild, we cannot fall into those habits again." He stared up at the night sky, a declaration burning on his tongue. He didn't want to say it, but he knew that Faye, wherever she was, would be disappointed if he didn't.
And so, with great reluctance, he said, "Keep me…appraised of similar issues, Mimir."
He could feel his friend's jaw drop. "…Well, not gonna look this gift horse in the mouth." Kratos grunted, and hurried home.
The wolves yipped excitedly at his approach. He indulged their affection and noted that they had grown fatter than appropriate. He would have to lead them on a hunt soon.
"Argh, get off you slobbering beast!" Mimir exclaimed in mock offense as Speki nosed him back and forth from Kratos's hips.
"Enough," Kratos commanded, and the wolf stepped away. With one last pat for each of them, Kratos strode past them for his house. Despite the late hour, he could see candlelight from within.
When they were feet away, Mimir hummed in mild disappointment. "Aw, I was expecting to smell another delicacy."
"I doubt they were expecting our return," Kratos replied as he opened the door to his home.
Atreus and Sora were huddled at one end of the table, looking at his Gummi phone. They both looked up. "Father, Mimir!" Atreus called out. "Wasn't expecting you guys back tonight."
"The negotiations were short," Kratos replied.
Sora nodded. "You hungry?"
Kratos considered the question. He didn't strictly need to eat, being a god. Still…"Yes," he answered.
"Hold on, let me warm up the pan." He shot a small ball of fire at the fire pit with a snap of his fingers. When it lit up, he uncovered the pan and shifted the contents a touch. "Give it a bit to warm up."
"What is it?" Mimir asked as Kratos set him on the table and sat down beside Atreus.
Atreus answered, "Perch en Poêlé."
Mimir's brow furrowed at the last word. Something about it tickled Kratos's memory. "En pole?" the talking head said.
"Po-el" Atreus annunciated. "It's one of the languages Sora's rat chef writes in."
"It can write?" Mimir exclaimed in wonder.
"He can write," Sora corrected.
"He, of course, my mistake." Mimir hummed. "An animal that can write, how utterly fascinating. What's this language called?"
"It is a mortal tongue commonly known as French," Kratos replied before anyone else could. Mimir and Atreus goggled at him. Even Sora briefly arched a brow in his direction.
"And how, brother, do you know that?" Mimir asked, his golden eyes shining with curiosity.
"I have encountered those that spoke the language during my travels to different worlds."
"Who?" Mimir was practically frothing at the mouth.
Kratos crossed his arms, head tilted down in thought. "The first was a warrior named Raphael, when I first travelled to another World."
"The one where those two blades fought with proxies?" Mimir asked to which Kratos nodded.
"What was the world called?" Atreus asked.
"I am unsure of its official name. But by all accounts, it was similar to this one. Geographically, at least, based on the maps I found."
"Really?" Mimir said in interest. "Now that's mighty curious."
"Eh, not really," Sora cut in. "Most Worlds have similar, if not downright identical, geography. Never really asked why, but I think it's got something to do with how the Worlds were all originally one." He picked up a plate and transferred some of the perch onto it from the pan and walked over to the table. "Here you are, Kratos," he said as he set it down, along with a fork and knife. Kratos nodded in thanks and ate with gusto.
"Oh, that smells heavenly," Mimir crooned. "How's it taste?"
"Good," Kratos replied between bites.
"…Almost forgot who I was talking to." Mimir grunted and shifted his gaze over to Sora. "What was this about the Worlds being one?"
Sora shrugged and sat down. "It's an old story about the origins of the Universe. Back then, in the beginning, there was just one World, bathed in light." He spread his arms wide. "And that light came from one source, Kingdom Hearts!"
"What is 'Kingdom Hearts'?" Mimir asked. "You've mentioned it once or twice."
Sora let out a breath and crossed his arms. His face twisted into a contemplative frown. "It's the Heart of the Universe. The source of…everything. It's where all Hearts, big and small, good and evil, Light and Dark, go in the end. An infinite well of wisdom and power. Whoever had access to it could do…whatever they wanted." He closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them, he sighed. "Anyway, just because there was only one World filled with Light didn't mean that everything was sunshine and rainbows. People fought over the Light of Kingdom Hearts. People with Keyblades."
Kratos, who had finished his meal, hummed lowly. "This Keyblade War you spoke of."
"Yeah," Sora said with a frown. "Countless Keyblade Wielders gave their lives in their pursuit, their sheer greed, for the Light of Kingdom Hearts. And the World fell to Darkness as a consequence."
"And yet…?" Mimir, the storyteller of their little family, teased.
"And yet~" Sora drawled, before pressing his right hand against his chest. "The Light lived on within children, pure and bright. It was through them that Light returned to the Universe, but the World was too damaged to heal in full, so it was split apart into the infinite Worlds as we know them."
"That sounds kind of familiar," Atreus said. "Not Kingdom Hearts or Keyblades or anything like that"—he clarified at Sora's wide-eyed stare. "I mean a…creature, I suppose, being destroyed through conflict and something new being formed from its remains. It's kind of like what Odin did to Ymir." He turned to Kratos. "Or what the Protogenoi of Greece did, right Father?"
Kratos nodded as Mimir hummed. "I do believe you're right, lad," the talking head declared. "My own homeland told that the first gods of the land created all the creatures held within by fashioning them from an oak tree they systematically cut apart. And then there was a war between those of the land and those of the sea, and the lone survivors were left to pick up the pieces." He chuckled grimly. "From destruction comes life. Rather violent, no?"
"It speaks of Hope," Kratos intoned. He fought to still his heart as memories of Pandora rose to the forefront of his mind. "A reason to fight and live on when all else is lost."
"Well said, Brother," Mimir said with warm affection.
Atreus clicked his tongue. "Still, this Kingdom Hearts sounds really dangerous. How do you keep people from just…restarting the conflict?"
It was subtle, but Sora flinched at the question. "Well, it's not like anyone can just up and use it. It's protected by the X-Blade." At their arched brows, he continued. "It's the original weapon all other Keyblades are based on." He grabbed his Gummi Phone and tapped on the screen. "The 'key' sounding part is actually…this symbol!" He showed them the screen, and Kratos found himself leaning closer.
"That is a Greek letter," Kratos said after studying the curved 'X' on the screen.
Sora nodded. "Hercules told me about it when I saw the symbol in Thebes—really freaked me out until he told me what it meant on his World. For Keyblade Wielders, it's a letter that represents 'death' or 'endings'."
Kratos grunted. "That is not what it meant in my homeland. It was merely a letter. At most, some philosophers attributed it to the two bands that formed the soul of the world."
"Sounds a lot like 'life' to me," Mimir noted. "Rather the opposite of what Sora's described."
"Do you think it got twisted somewhere?" Atreus asked. "Like, ancient Keyblade Wielders misunderstanding the meaning when they copied it? Or the first Greeks doing the same?" Kratos grunted dismissively at the implication that his ancestral people were not the origin of their alphabet.
"I'm not sure what the origins of the symbol are," Sora replied. "Whether it came from Greek cultures first and Keyblade Wielders adopted it, the other way around, or its pure coincidence. Don't think it really matters, personally."
"Cultures, plural?" Atreus asked with an arched brow.
Sora waved his hand in a circular motion. "Ah, like Kratos was saying about the other Worlds he visited having similar geography to this one. My whole point about the Worlds having originally been a singular World that has since split apart. The vast majority of the Worlds all…echo each other. Similar in all but a handful, or even single, aspect."
"Is that so?" Mimir mused. "Well, if I were going to remake all of creation into relatively bite-sized portions, I suppose it wouldn't be remiss to use a template to base them all off of."
"Exactly!" Sora said with a snap of his fingers. "Of course, some Worlds are completely unique, no question—Radiant Garden, Wonderland, Neverland. But the rest, it's almost cookie-cutter."
"Cookie-cutter?" Atreus asked with an arched brow.
"Er, like you used a baking mold." Atreus hummed in understanding.
Kratos mulled over what Sora had told them. Well, one thing in particular. While Mimir, and even Atreus, no doubt wondered in awe at the vast implications of the myth of creation Sora had shared, he had not forgotten the start of this tangent.
"What of the X-Blade?" Kratos asked. "If this weapon can access Kingdom Hearts itself, with all that implies, it must be under heavy guard."
Sora was quiet for a long moment. Eventually, he said, "The original X-Blade was broken into thirteen pieces of pure Darkness and seven pieces of pure Light, ages ago. I honestly don't know if it was before or during the Keyblade War."
A chill ran down Kratos's spine. He leaned forward, face set into a stern frown. "Can it be repaired?" He saw Atreus and Mimir freeze at the implication. Sora simply stared Kratos straight in the eyes, his sky-blue eyes freezing over like ice.
Finally, he heaved a great sigh, and raised his right hand without a word. A blinding light sprouted from his palm. When it vanished, he held what could only be the X-Blade.
It was a large weapon—of a size with the Blade of Olympus, if not a touch smaller. Its guard was comprised of two conjoined, intersecting copies of Sora's Kingdom Key, and the token at the end of its keychain was the same, overlayed on a red-lined, stylized black heart. From the intersection of the Kingdom Keys, sprouted sharp, glowing crystals, shaped like wings. Two crystals at the top of the intersecting Kingdom Keys sprouted out like spikes, conjoined at the tip to form a hollowed-out, crystalline blade.
"This," Sora intoned, as he reverently lay the weapon on the table before them, "is the X-Blade, forged by Keyblade Master Xehanort in his bid to control the Universe. Which he bequeathed to me after me and my friends stopped him."
"Woah," Atreus exclaimed in wordless wonder. "It…It feels powerful."
"That, Atreus, is an understatement," Mimir declared, eyes wide, a hint of fear leaking in. Kratos agreed with the sentiment. It was subtle, but the weapon before them exuded a sense of purity and sheer might the likes of which he had only ever felt in the depths of the Polygon Man's madness. The ability to twist and shift creation itself with a thought. But instead of being spread out throughout the Polygon Man's haphazard realm, it was all condensed within this single, terrifying object.
Atreus reached a hand out towards the X-Blade, only to pull back with a hiss just before he touched it. "Agh!" he cried. "It's practically on fire!"
"Really?" Sora asked. He picked up the weapon—easily, as if he were plucking a flower. "I don't feel that. I mean, it hurt like nothing I'd ever felt when Xehanort would stab or slash me with it, but nothing now." He hummed. "Oh, maybe it's because I'm it's owner. Keyblades are already particular about who can even touch them. The X-Blade must be even moreso." His face twisted into a frown. "But wait, Master Eraqus was able to touch it and I don't think he felt anything wrong. Then again, he was a Keyblade Master. And dead."
Kratos, Atreus, and Mimir exchanged flat stares. Atreus almost found the courage to ask the questions on all their lips but decided against it at the last moment.
Sora stared at the X-Blade. for another moment. Eventually, he grunted, and the X-Blade vanished in another flash of light.
"You have great restraint," Kratos said. At Sora's confused stare, he continued. "You wield a weapon capable of untold power, but do not use it. Few in your position would do the same."
Sora grinned. "Yeah, well, busting out the X-Blade during a fight would be all kinds of overkill, you know?"
"Speak for yourself," Atreus remarked. "If people knew you were using that thing—and they don't even need to know what it does, they just need to feel the raw power rolling off it in waves—no one would ever mess with you!"
"That's certainly what Xehanort thought," Sora replied, which made Atreus pause, and tilt his head down in thought.
"Sora, a question," Mimir began. "The X-Blade can access Kingdom Hearts, correct? And through it, all Worlds? Then, could you not—"
"I can't use it to get home," Sora cut him off. "I already tried that in the Final World." He crossed his arms with a frown. "But now that I'm talking about it…" he trailed off.
"What is it?" Atreus asked after a long period of silence.
"It's just…" Sora clicked his tongue. "The youngest Xehanort, the one that possessed Terra, and the original when I met him in Scala ad Caelum all told me, in various ways, that I was doomed for abusing the Power of Waking like I'd done."
Kratos, Atreus, and Mimir exchanged flat stares. Mimir found the courage to ask, "I'm sorry, this Xehanort fellow was three different people?"
"Via time-travel, yes."
"…You know what, that tracks. Continue."
Sora snorted. "My point is, at the very least, Xehanort had to know that I would end up at the Final World after getting punished by the Worlds for breaking nature taboos. So why give the X-Blade, the gateway to unlimited power, to me?"
"Because you beat him?" Atreus supplied. "To the winner goes the spoils, right?"
"I don't think so." Sora shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, he completely gave up when the last hand was dealt. In a surprisingly graceful way. But he could have given the X-Blade to anyone else there—King Mickey, Master Aqua, Riku. But he singled me out." Sora tapped his chest. "Me. The guy that was going to vanish from existence as we knew it." He crossed his arms with a glare. "It feels like I'm caught up in another one of his schemes again."
"Should we be concerned?" Kratos asked. He was well-versed in being dragged into the machinations of vile individuals. If Sora was meant to be here by some nefarious design…
"…No," the youth replied with certainty. "Like I said, Xehanort accepted his defeat. And he's too proud to try and walk back on that, especially after Master Eraqus convinced him to stand down." He drummed his fingers against the table. "I'm almost positive that Xehanort doesn't have an actual scheme lying in wait. He probably just figured the X-Blade would be better kept in the hands of someone that couldn't actually use it. One last laugh at my expense." He wasn't fully convinced of his own words, Kratos could tell. But he would trust in Sora's experiences and beliefs regarding this Xehanort, and push such worries out of his mind.
He cast his gaze to Atreus and Mimir. His son stared at Sora with curious, yet guarded eyes. Either over the true circumstances of Sora's arrival on this world—a mystery Kratos was certain they could not solve—or the fact that Sora bore a weapon capable of destruction on a scale even Kratos had trouble fathoming.
Mimir, by contrast, was shockingly open, his golden Bifrost eyes alight with sheer wonder. "Well," he began with glee, "I just don't know where to start!"
"You could not," Atreus drawled with a fond roll of his eyes.
Mimir ignored him. "To think, you not only bore witness to the source of, well, everything, but hold the very tool required to use it! Why, I'm positively glowing with envy!"
"Don't be, it all sucked." Mimir faltered at the blunt response, to which Kratos let out a grunt of amusement.
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"You are still not done?" came a cold, condescending voice that Sindri had come to positively loathe.
He stopped his tinkering, slamming his brother's hammer against his workbench and glaring up at Sinmara. "You're asking me to both create a device that can allow you full access to your abilities outside of Niflehim, and craft a tool that will allow you to slip past whatever strange magic is keeping the both of us locked in here. Any other dwarf would have called you crazy and gladly laughed their way into an early, frozen grave."
"One of the famed Huldra brothers is unable to deliver, then?"
Sindri scoffed. "You know this is completely uncharted territory, right?! You're lucky me and B-Brok"—only the slightest stutter, he was proud of himself—"had already looked into alternate ways of travelling through the Realms. Otherwise, you'd be shit outta luck!"
Sinmara bore down at him—the intimidation act would have gotten old if she didn't drop the temperature enough that he could feel his blood freezing in his veins. "You're not trying hard enough," she spat. She slammed her hand against his workbench, disturbing the various devices and materials atop it. "Wasting your energy with these…failures!"
Sindri mock-gasped. "What? You mean I'm not putting in my maximum effort when I'm being held hostage in a frozen wasteland with a dwindling food supply? Who would have thought?!" Despite it all, he couldn't help but think that Brok would be damn-near proud of the sheer level of spite he managed to inject in his voice.
Sinmara hissed, the air around them whipping into a frenzy. Tiny, razor-sharp snowflakes cut into Sindir's skin and drew rapidly freezing blood. He had to bite back the urge to add that injuries like this weren't helping matters any.
"You insignificant maggot-spawn!" Sinmara bellowed. "Do you truly think your little verbale rebellions amount to anything?" She raised her right hand and clenched it into a fist. Icicles sprouted up around Sindri in an instant, trapping him. "Do you think I need your pitiful little soul? That I could not tear out your heart from your body and puppet it to mine own—!" She cut herself off with an abrupt gasp. The winds died, and the icicles melted back into the ground as she whirled around, eyes wide as she stared out into the distance.
Sindri gasped, curling into himself as he retreated towards his forge for just a little more warmth. "W-What is it?" She didn't even register his words. But before he could ask again, she spoke.
"Did you not feel it?" she whispered, voice like a cold spring breeze.
"Feel what?"
"Power. Unlimited power." The fiery heart within her chest lit up and started to beat faster. She bent her head down and pressed her hands against it. "You can feel it too, can't you, my love? The Keybearer holds the power to reunite us. We shall be together again!" Her voice bordered on hysteria, eyes alight with mania.
It was times like this that Sindri couldn't help but pity the woman before him. She was grieving too. Worse than him, he could admit.
Still, just because she was grieving didn't mean that she wasn't fucking insane. He watched her for a long moment, and when it became apparent that she was off in her own world, surreptitiously snatched some 'failures' from his workbench and shoved them into his pockets. And if that insanity could work to his advantage, he wouldn't complain.
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A/N: Sindri's got a plan! Kind of. Maybe it'll pan out, maybe it won't.