'The group begins making plans.'

Chapter Sixteen: Moving Forward

Sometime in the early morning, when the sky was just beginning to shift from a dark blue to a hazy sort of gray, Skuld slipped out of the apartment.

She'd slipped out of the window, rather than go out the door. She wasn't sure either was an entirely good idea, but the window had offered a higher vantage point (and, hopefully, a smaller likelihood of being seen), and she'd started to feel a little like a caged animal. Magic stung her skin, catching the edges of her arms as she'd slipped out, protection spells cast over and over, despite Brain's relative exhaustion.

(He'd given her an uncertain look when she'd left, but he hadn't stopped her; she'd still caught the telltale sign of another spell, cast hastily, and for as tired as she was of the worry she didn't think she could blame him.)

It was easy to feel like yesterday had been a bad dream, from up here. Scala looked different from Daybreak Town, but in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that different from any other world. The streets had steadily started to grow more familiar, like many worlds had become after long missions. Many of the people were still strangers to her, but that wasn't any different than when she'd been just another nameless Keyblade wielder in her Union.

Skuld sucked in a slow breath, reaching up a hand to clutch Brain's charm. She'd strung it around her neck after Brain had finished casting his spell, and its weight rested comfortably against her chest. It was warm, compared to the way the rest of her felt cold—from the slight breeze or the exhaustion, she didn't know.

In an hour or so, she would have to slip back into the apartment to talk with the others. They would need to make plans—figure out what to do, both about the bluebloods and about Darkness. She had no idea what to do about the latter, but for the former—

They weren't going to like her plan. She wasn't sure she liked her plan. But the only other option was to bow her head, go along with what they wanted, and hope that was enough to keep them safe until they left.

Skuld pulled her knees to her chest, careful to steady herself to keep from falling off the roof. In an hour, she'd have to step back into her role as Union Leader, despite having theoretically left it behind—but for now, she just wanted time to pretend she didn't have to.

-Brain's head was throbbing, his chest was heavy, and no matter how much coffee he drank he couldn't quite get the taste of ozone off his tongue.

"Don't give yourself a heart attack," Meili said, eyeing him skeptically.

"I'm fine."

"That's your fifth cup. In an hour."

"Didn't sleep."

"…I'm really starting to think none of you should be left unsupervised."

("Brain. Please, I'm begging you to have something besides coffee."

"Worried, Lauriam?"

"Yes. Just—please. For the sake of making me less stressed, if nothing else.")

Brain closed his eyes against the phantom of his friend, standing in the ruins of an abandoned town, shadows behind him. He took another sip of his coffee, a part of him feeling, ridiculously, vindictive because of the memory.

Meili gave him an exasperated look, muttering something under their breath.

A sleepy laugh came from the bedroom—which was less of a separate room, and more a section of the apartment that had been semi-separated by half a wall—and Brain tensed when it didn't immediately register who it was. "I guess I'm glad you aren't afraid to make yourself at home."

Bridget. One of Meili's partners. He made a conscious effort to relax, rolling his shoulders like he could force the tension out of them.

"Are the kids up?" That must be Meili's other partner, then; Brain had, admittedly, been a lot less concerned about committing them to memory, and a lot more concerned about making sure that nothing could get in.

(It hadn't mattered with Darkness, had it? He didn't think he could stop that if he wanted to.)

"Some of them," Meili called, still quiet; Mimir had been moved to the couch with Kvasir, curled up on the end, one of Kvasir's legs thrown unceremoniously over them. Kvasir himself looked like he was ready to fall off, blanket already on the floor, his side tilting precariously. It touched at memories that hurt to think about, and so Brain looked away instead.

He didn't expect to come nearly face to face with Meili's other partner, who was practically vibrating with energy.

"Give them space, Eric!" Bridget called, ignoring Meili as they hushed her.

Eric backed up rapidly with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, sorry! It's just—good to meet you."

Well. Brain guessed the bitter taste in his mouth was, at least, enough to distract him from how much he'd drained his magic. "Guess you probably haven't gotten the chance to meet a Union Leader in person, huh?"

Eric looked surprisingly crestfallen. "Well, no, but—well, it's nice to have company. Specifically, company that's here for Meili, and not one of us. Though I wish the circumstances were better."

Meili made a vaguely offended noise. "I was fine without company."

Bridget called, "Don't believe them! They stayed up all night with them!"

"Stars, can you keep it down? Two of them are still sleeping."

Something clattered at the window, and Brain just barely refrained from summoning his Keyblade. Skuld slipped inside, shooting Brain a curious look. He didn't even get the chance to answer the unasked question before Skuld's eyes landed on Eric, eyes lighting up with realization.

Eric's eyes brightened upon seeing her. "Good morning. How are you—ah, well. Maybe I can answer my own question." His expression shifted towards something a little more morose. "I hope you got a little sleep, at least."

Skuld gave him a tiny, tired smile. "A little." Her feet hit the floor with a quiet thud; she cast a glance at the sleeping remainder of their party, then made her way closer to Brain.

"Coffee?" he asked dryly, lifting his mug.

"Take it away from him," Meili said, still quiet.

It dragged a laugh from Skuld, but she shook her head.

The morning passed slowly, Meili making quiet conversation with their partners, Eric working on breakfast and occasionally trying to draw Skuld and Brain into talking. Skuld would answer, sometimes, short, quiet responses that her heart wasn't really in. Brain didn't bother, his head still throbbing, his mind turning useless circles as he stared into his mug. Mimir woke up eventually, looking bleary-eyed and lost; once they seemed to register where they were, they scrambled into movement, joining Eric with a quiet request to help. The two of them worked in companionable silence, leaving the rest of them to their thoughts.

Kvasir finally woke up when breakfast was almost done. He blinked, eyes clearing slowly as he surveyed the rest of them, an almost embarrassed look twisting across his face. "I—guess I'm a little late."

Meili waved him off. "You had a rough day yesterday. At least I know one of you got a decent night's sleep."

"Yes, well—" Kvasir's eyes flicked to Skuld, then Brain, then away, landing on some point on the floor.

He jumped when Eric shoved a plate at him. Eric smiled, tired eyes crinkling around the edges, and Kvasir smiled tentatively back and accepted the plate.

Mimir caught Skuld's eye, lifting a plate.

She nodded, then shot Brain a questioning look.

Brain waved her off; his stomach was still turning knots, so he didn't exactly feel up to eating much of anything.

Skuld's shoulders slumped, but she didn't protest, giving him a knowing look when she went to collect her plate.

Silverware clinked quietly, all of them settled randomly about the room. Kvasir still took up the couch, bent over and fidgeting; Mimir and Skuld had retreated to a couple of chairs; Meili remained where they were, food barely touched; Brain remained standing, leaning against the counter and surveying them. Only Eric and Bridget actually took up places at the table, and Eric kept casting nervous glances towards the lot of them, Bridget nudging him occasionally to draw his attention.

Kvasir was the one to break the silence: "I'm going to talk to my uncle today."

Meili shot him a sharp look. "Kvasir—"

"There has to be some sort of mistake. I know what you saw, Mimir," and he paused to look at them, waiting for their acknowledgement, "but anyone could have a lot of paintings. They might not even belong to the person who hired the—you know." Kvasir broke off, expression twisting, and it dawned on Brain that this was probably the most frightening situation he'd ever been in. It probably shouldn't have been surprising, that his first thought was to go to someone he thought he could trust.

It was still frustrating. "That's a shit idea."

Meili sighed, running a hand over their face.

Kvasir's face twisted into something vaguely offended. "I know you don't like me much," he said, "but—"

"That's not the problem," Brain interrupted. "The problem is that you're going to reveal our hand to our prime suspect. You're not only putting yourself in danger, you're potentially putting the rest of us in danger, too."

Kvasir's face hardened. "My uncle wouldn't hurt me."

"You'd be surprised. Your family's not as noble as you'd like to think."

"I don't understand why you have such a problem with us," Kvasir said, sounding like he was on the verge of snapping. "You'd really think so little of your friend's family?"

Something soured in Brain's throat, his hands tightening around his mug. He wanted to respond, but he couldn't quite figure out how to put to words the disappointed grief that twitched in his chest whenever he thought about it.

"Even if it's not your uncle," Skuld said, something hard in her voice, "there's still someone out there who doesn't want us around."

"We should let the council know." Kvasir gave Meili a pleading look. "I'm sure Master Frigga wouldn't want anything to happen."

Meili's expression twisted into something dour. "She might not," they agreed carefully, "but that's not a guarantee."

"We can't rely on them for protection," Skuld added, and when she lifted her head, there was something steely in her expression. "So we'll have to do this on our own."

Brain's eyes narrowed. "You have a plan."

Skuld pursed her lips. She glanced down at her plate, then set it aside carefully. "They think we want to take what power they have left away from them—and even though we don't, that's not going to stop them from coming after us. So we might as well give them what they're asking for."

Kvasir blanched.

Meili sucked in a breath. "That sounds a bit like playing with fire, kid."

Skuld gave them a tight smile. "I don't know what else to do." Her expression faltered a little, and she paused to look at Brain.

His hands were so tight around his mug that they hurt. "It's…a fair plan," he said, but he could hear the reluctance in his voice, his heart beating too hard against his chest.

"But you don't like it."

Brain huffed a sardonic laugh. "Not a fan of you actively throwing yourself into danger, no."

"Then give me another plan."

He ran a hand over his face. He didn't have one; that was the thing. They could go about this from the shadows, hiding until they figured out who had hired the assassin, but there was always the chance that someone else would try to get rid of them. If they were more direct about things, then they might make headway quicker—but it would be dangerous. "I'm assuming you have more of a plan than just that."

Skuld's shoulders relaxed, her expression falling into a tired smile. "Not all of the bluebloods can be bad—we just have to figure out which ones are which." She turned, giving Kvasir and Meili hesitant looks. "Kvasir? Meili?"

Kvasir still looked a little uneasy. "I—I'd be happy to help you meet other people, but—" He broke off, looking conflicted. "Perhaps—if you meet more of them, then—then you can see this is ridiculous. A-and it might head off anyone trying to go after you, anyways."

Meili looked slightly more skeptical. "I don't really have many connections. I can try to find you some names—but you're going to be better off asking someone else."

Brain stared down into his mug, regretting the words before he'd even said them. "You said you were supposed to be training with Frigga, right?"

Skuld's eyes snapped to him. She pursed her lips, but nodded.

Meili grimaced. "Yeah. I guess if anyone would know, she would."

"So we can make connections," Skuld continued. "And we can build support with the rest of Scala ad Caelum." She gave Brain a sardonic smile. "That shouldn't be hard, at least."
He managed a tiny smile back, but he certainly didn't feel it.

"And we'll need to figure out who wants us gone, too." Skuld wrung her hands together, but the steely, stubborn expression hadn't left. "If we can do that, then theoretically, we can stop them from coming after us—and maybe even smooth out some of the conflict with the bluebloods in general."

She gave Brain a meaningful look, and he felt a little unsteady on his feet. Because the last time Darkness caused problems here, it was because of conflict the bluebloods caused. If we can stop that at its source—

We could leave Scala in better hands.

It was…a solid plan. Dangerous, maybe, but—solid. So he couldn't quite understand why guilt kept twisting in his chest, wrapping around his ribcage and squeezing. "Well," he said, trying to shake it off, "suppose I can do some digging to see if I can find any other information. Maybe figure out some more protection spells in case things go wrong." And speaking of— "Mimir."

They started. They'd been very quiet the whole conversation, expression distant, like they weren't entirely there. It gave Brain pause, but not enough to keep him from asking: "You think you could help me with something at some point? Your heart magic might come in helpful with a project I'm working on."

Mimir blinked a couple of times, then nodded, seeming to come back to themself.

"You're…going to be careful, right?"

It took a moment to realize the question came from one of Meili's partners—Eric, half-risen from the table, expression pinched. Bridget hadn't moved, but she looked equally as worried.

Meili glanced back at him, something tired in their expression. "You know what my family's like," they said, quiet.

Eric's expression flashed through several different emotions in rapid succession, and entire history in them that Brain wasn't privy to.

"We can do some digging, too," Bridget pointed out. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"I think I still have some records," Eric added, giving her a relieved smile.

Meili's expression pinched. "You don't—"

"We do," Eric interrupted.

Meili stared him down for a moment, then sighed, running a hand over their face. "Why do you always end up getting dragged into my messes?"

Mimir stared at them, something strangely pained in their expression. Brain frowned and filed that away for later.

"I think," Kvasir interjected nervously, "this is our mess this time."

Skuld and Brain exchanged glances. Their mess, more accurately—but the rest of them had become tangled enough in it they might not be able to get out.

"We can get to work," Eric said brightly. "You guys—maybe you should stay here? For the day."

Skuld's expression hardened, and Brain almost laughed. Almost. "I'm not going to let them intimidate me into staying away."

Eric faltered. "You all—yesterday was rough. You should—"

"I'm going back, too," Meili pointed out. At Eric's look, they continued, "They don't know I'm involved yet, so I should be fine. Besides, if I stayed home, it might look suspicious. At least this way, I can help keep an eye on things."

Skuld smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Meili."

Brain breathed out slowly, clutching his mug tighter to keep his hands from shaking. "Think I'd probably go stir-crazy if I didn't have a project to work on. So."

Mimir and Kvasir exchanged glances. "I…think I'd like to stay here today," Kvasir admitted. "If that's alright?"

Mimir pursed their lips and stared at their hands, and Brain got the impression they felt similarly.

Meili sighed. They glanced out the window at the slowly-brightening sky. "Well. Guess we'd better get going, then. The council will be wondering where we are."

Brain pushed away from the counter, emptying the rest of his mug into the sink. They had a plan. They had something to go off of, at least.

…So why didn't it make him feel better?

-They were going back to the council soon. The council, who was mostly made up of bluebloods. The council, who—while they hadn't explicitly ordered for their deaths—may or may not be complicit in the attempt.

Skuld was catastrophizing. Probably. And it was ridiculous, because she was the one who'd decided she wanted to do this, but—

"You're shaking."

Skuld jumped, breathing out a shuddering sigh when she realized Brain was standing behind her, looking at her with only vaguely-veiled concern. "Don't do that."

Brain didn't respond right away; he just turned, giving a pointed glance towards the window, which she'd perched herself on, and then at the charm, which she was fiddling with nervously.

Skuld tucked the charm away, shoving her hands underneath her armpits.

Brain sighed, settling on the window opposite from her; it wasn't exactly a tight fit, but it was close enough, and his presence was both comforting and claustrophobic. "Thinking about changing your mind?"

Despite her nerves, she shook her head, resolute. "I don't—" She broke off, searching for the words.

Brain waited.

"I don't want to be afraid," she said finally, voice small.

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Yeah." He glanced out the window, working his jaw like he was thinking about saying something. "You know how to make a barrier, right?"

She gave him a vaguely baffled look; he'd seen her do a Barrier spell before.

"Set up Mines?"

"I'm not good at that one," she said, but she'd started to figure out where he was going, and she didn't know if she was exasperated or amused. "Brain—"

"Gradual healing?"

"Brain. Stop quizzing me on spells."

"Might make both of us feel better."

"I'm going to push you out the window."

"Well, I guess it would give you a chance to test—"

Skuld shoved him with her foot—a little too hard, apparently, because he overbalanced and almost did fall out the window, and she had to scramble to help him steady himself. But it got them both laughing, the pressure in her chest unwinding, just a little. "Thanks, Brain."

He shrugged folding his arms and looking vaguely embarrassed. "I'll make sure to surprise you with more pop quizzes sometime."

She rolled her eyes and made a mental note to get back at him for it sometime—preferably, when they weren't dealing with this mess.

"…Stay safe, alright?"

Brain wouldn't meet her eyes, his head lowered so that his hat covered them.

Skuld sucked in a breath, reality crashing back. "Yeah," she said. "You, too."

-There was a distinct difference in the way people looked at them, between yesterday and today.

Maybe Brain was just being paranoid. Or maybe their own wariness was palpable; Or maybe their own wariness was palpable; Meili had gone on ahead to avoid suspicion, so it was just the two of them, and Skuld was straight-backed and silent, while Brain himself couldn't quite stop casting glances into the shadows, like someone would step out of them at any moment. But it certainly seemed like people were avoiding them.

There were still whispers, sure. But when Brain met people's eyes, they looked away quickly. They parted around them like water, heads averted, careful to stay out of their way. It was…eerie, almost, and it made him even more on-edge. "Hey," he said, quiet, "notice anything different about today?"

Skuld breathed out a stuttering breath. "You, too, huh?"
"Good to know I'm not imagining it, I guess."

"…It's about yesterday, isn't it? A lot of people saw us arguing at the wharf—"

Brain hummed a quiet acknowledgement. He wondered how much they'd heard; he wondered what that meant. "Might not be a bad idea to look into things."

"Brain—"

"I'll be careful." The Clock Tower was fast approaching; his eyes trailed over it, catching on the edges. "Besides, I'm not the one who's going to have to deal with the council."

Skuld gave him a vaguely exasperated look.

He slowed to a halt. "You going to be alright?"

She hesitated, but only for a moment. "Yeah. I'll—we'll meet up later."

"Lunch," he said, because he was pretty sure his thoughts would drive him crazy by then, even with his hands busy.

"The café?"

"Sure." It felt too open, but he decided not to voice that.

Skuld gave him a tiny sort of smile. "Good luck," she said, and left before he could respond.

He watched until he couldn't see her anymore, hidden behind the pillars of the Clock Tower. And then he steeled himself and turned, heading back out into the streets of Scala.

-Finding people to talk to wasn't difficult. Finding people who'd have an extended conversation with him was…trickier.

"I—I'm sorry, I wasn't at the wharf yesterday; I've just heard stories—"

"Stories?"

"All fake, I'm sure, but—something about a fight?"

Or:

"It's none of my business. I'm staying out of it."

Or:

"I just, uh—I promise, I'm not going to go spreading rumors about you or anything! It was just a little…surprising."

Or once:

"Don't you think it's a little shameful, a Union Leader starting a fight with someone else?"

Everywhere he went, it was more of the same, and it made something curdle in his stomach. People still watched him, and sometimes, it felt no different than it did before—but sometimes, it did, the eyes on him warier than they were before. It was like they'd tapped into a different part of his "legend"; like they'd realized that if someone could be strong enough to have legends told about them, they could be dangerous, too.

His musings were, maybe, why he didn't notice Sigurd until he almost ran into him.

Sigurd took a few stumbling steps backward. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" He broke off abruptly.

Something bitter filled Brain's throat.

"Master Brain," Sigurd said, quiet and careful.

"Sigurd." Staring at him made his stomach turn, and so he didn't, pushing past him and tugging his hat lower. "Heard Frigga was taking you off spy duty."

He wasn't sure if he expected Sigurd to follow him or not; it took a couple of moments, but hurried footsteps came after him, loud against the cobblestones. "She did. I just—" He cut off, words trailing into silence, but stayed a few steps behind Brain, anyways, and it grated, just a little.

"Going to have to go into a little more detail, there. Or leave, if you're really not here to spy."

"I wanted to talk to you about—yesterday."

"Don't really think there's much to talk about. You're mad because I 'won't listen' to you; I'm mad because you didn't tell me that Darkness was here. Think we covered that pretty well—unless you're going to tell me what your big plan is?" He cast a glance over his shoulder.

Sigurd's head was bowed, his fists clenched.

Brain wasn't surprised, but he was a little disappointed. "Figured."

"Master Brain—Brain. Wait."

Sigurd stepped in front of him, and Brain came to an abrupt halt, backing up a little to avoid running into him.

Sigurd's fists clenched and unclenched. "You're really going to get involved in this, aren't you? No matter what I say."

"You've heard the stories. What do you think?"

He was starting to hate that he couldn't see Sigurd's face; he couldn't gauge what he was thinking at all, staring at him with a careful sort of stillness. After a few moments, Sigurd breathed out a shaky sigh. "The plan is to trap them."

The words came with the echo of a memory—of a flickering data world, of fleeing a dying world into a cage, of a child filled with light who was a little too willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of others.

When Brain smiled, he could feel the edges, sharp and biting. "Come again."

"Master Frigga—I don't know all the details. I know she's researched things—studied the stories, the Book of Prophecies, everything she could think of. Any actual record of that time, historically speaking, has been nearly lost, so it's hard to sort out fact from fiction, but—there are some stories that say of Darkness being trapped inside someone—"

"Ven."

"—or multiple—I'm sorry?"

The silence was palpable, but Brain's ears were ringing, and it felt a little like it had yesterday, when he'd confronted Sigurd in the abandoned town. "Ven," he said, too calmly. "That was his name. Use it."

"I—I didn't realize—I'm sorry. That must've been—"

"Hard?" He shrugged, shoulders rolling, but it felt like something had gotten caught behind his ribcage, coiled uncomfortably. "I lost most of them at some point." Maybe he didn't want to hear the rest of this plan, after all. I should've known. I should've known their plan would never—

"Master Brain—"

"Don't." The word came out with more bite than he intended, and Sigurd flinched, hand lifted like he was ready to call his Keyblade, if he needed to.

The street around them had grown very, very quiet. A couple of people had stopped to watch. Brain forced himself to look away from Sigurd, eyes sweeping over the onlookers.

(If he looked closely, he thought he could see the shadows moving.)

"It's not people."

Sigurd's voice was so quiet he almost missed it. "Pardon?"

Sigurd's hands flexed. "Master Frigga…thought there would be a way to bind it to somewhere else. Something else, though she won't tell me what."

Brain studied Sigurd carefully. "…Really, now."

"Really. I promise, we're trying to avoid casualties. We just—" Sigurd broke off, then sighed. "The biggest problem," he admitted, "is that Darkness hasn't manifested enough for us to do anything."

Brain hummed an acknowledgement, but his mind was turning, slowly picking over the memory of the Darkness that had attached themself to Ven. They hadn't appeared until they were fighting—until the world was already falling. That's not good enough. Not this time.

"…Sigurd?"

Sigurd started. "Y-yes?"

Brain smiled, too sharp to be friendly. "I'd like to have a talk with Frigga."

-Kvasir knew he should've actually talked to someone about what he was doing, probably.

In his defense, he had told them that he planned to talk to his uncle. And he'd left a note; it wasn't his fault if no one stopped to read it. But he knew that the others would be upset, and he figured it'd be better to just…tell them later and ask for their forgiveness.

Because they didn't know. They thought they knew, and he guessed they hadn't been given much to go on otherwise, but Brain and Skuld hadn't been in Scala that long in the grand scheme of things, and Meili already didn't get along with most of the rest of the family, and Mimir wasn't noble-born. They didn't know about the private lessons or the family get-togethers where his uncle took the time to ask him about his day or the small trinkets that his uncle would bring back from him when he was still an active Keyblade wielder. This was just…all a big mistake, and Kvasir was sure that they could work together to find the real culprit.

It didn't stop him from fidgeting nervously when his uncle finally stepped into his office.

(There…were a lot of paintings in here. His uncle probably had the biggest collection out of the entire family. But that didn't necessarily mean anything.)

"Kvasir." Aegir inclined his head, eyes narrowed. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon." He settled into his chair, slow and careful. "Here on behalf of Master Skuld again?"

"No. Well—yes, sort of. I'm—here for both of us, really."

Aegir raised an eyebrow.

Kvasir couldn't quite look at him; his eyes darted about the room, skipping over familiar pictures. His attention stuck on one eventually—the one Skuld and Mimir had both been interested in, about the final fight with Darkness. It made his stomach twist, and he tore his eyes away. "It's just—something happened yesterday, and—I was thinking maybe since Master Skuld's a family friend, in a way, perhaps—"

"Spit it out, Kvasir."

"An assassin came after us." The words tumbled ungracefully onto the floor between them, and Kvasir scrambled to pick up the pieces. "Or—more accurately, we think an assassin came after Master Skuld. They primarily seemed to be targeting her, at least. They attacked myself and Mimir when we tried to defend her, but didn't do much otherwise."

His uncle stared at him, expression hard and unreadable.

"And I just—I was wondering if you'd have any idea who might've sent them? And perhaps if you would be willing to offer protection."

The office was deathly quiet. It made Kvasir nervous, anxiety twitching along his arms.

(Why wasn't his uncle saying anything?)

Aegir sat back slowly, chair creaking a little. "Did Master Skuld send you with that request?"

"No." He hesitated a moment, then rallied and said, "She…actually believes you might be the one responsible."

Aegir's eyes narrowed.

"I told her there had to be a mistake, but—a friend of ours has heart magic. They saw some of the assassin's memories, and—and I think they had this room in them." Kvasir paused, feeling wrong-footed in a way he wasn't used to. "It's not you, is it?"

He wanted to take the words back as soon as he said them. Even the idea made him feel nauseous; his family wouldn't do something like that. But—

But.

"Uncle," he said, when the silence went too long, "I need you to be honest with me. Was it you?" His voice wavered, and he wasn't sure if it was in anger or fear or something else. Please say no, Kvasir thought, staring at him. Please say no, because I don't know what I'm going to do if you don't.

Aegir studied him, and Kvasir felt a little like he was being picked apart. Then he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You really think so little of me?"

Kvasir flinched. "No, it's just—it seems suspicious." His words sounded weak, even to his own ears, and he tried not to shrink into himself.

His uncle stood, and Kvasir forced himself not to flinch when he lifted his hand—but all he did was rest it on his head. It made him feel like a kid again, his uncle ruffling his hair and promising, "You'll do big things someday. You'll make our family proud."

"Kvasir," he said, and his voice had gone gentle, in a way it only ever seemed to do with family, "I would never do something that would put our family at risk. Any of us."

"I—I know, Uncle. I'm sorry."

Aegir sighed, his shoulders slumping with the motion. "You're a good kid; you have a good heart. But it's going to get you in trouble someday." He lifted his hand, folding his arms behind his back. "Assassins are dangerous, even for trained Keyblade wielders. Looking for the source will only put you in danger. If I had been willing to put you at risk, do you think telling me would've been safe?"

"Master Brain…said something similar," Kvasir admitted, trying not to feel sheepish.

Aegir's eyes narrowed. "Hmm." His eyes flicked away; Kvasir followed his gaze, but he couldn't figure out what his uncle was looking at. "Did you even tell anyone else where you were?"

"Ah, well—not exactly."

Aegir exhaled heavily, eyes shut in disappointment. "It's good you told me, I suppose. I'll see if I can't get things sorted out."

Kvasir's knees nearly buckled with relief. "Thank you, Uncle."

Aegir hummed an acknowledgement.

It felt like a dismissal; Kvasir dipped his head, shaky grin making his cheeks ache. He had good news he could tell the others, at least; if they knew it wasn't his uncle, then they wouldn't have to go through with their plan, and he wouldn't have to worry about betraying his family or betraying his friend.

"Kvasir."

Kvasir hesitated.

Aegir was looking at him now, expression steely and serious. "I understand your concern about your friend—but never forget that your family should come first. You cannot always rely on outside connections; they don't always understand."

It was a refrain he'd heard countless times growing up, and he gave his uncle a baffled sort of smile. "I know, Uncle. Don't worry." Besides, he thought, I'm doing this to help our family. With this information—we won't need to worry about anything.

-Aegir waited in his study until long after his nephew had left. He wasn't much for pacing, but he'd started after a time, brooding on the matter presented to him. His thoughts made him agitated; he was acutely aware of every noise in the room, something drip-drip-dripping in the corner of the room. He'd have to get someone to inspect that later; it looked like some sort of tainted water, leaking from a dark patch in the ceiling. It made his mood worse, agitating an already-stressed part of him.

When the shadows moved, he managed to remain composed enough not to summon his Keyblade—but only just. "I told you my nephew wasn't to be harmed."

Assassination was something his family had largely put behind them, when the last of the outer towns had fallen and they'd been forced to band together. Still, some of the older members had connections from ages past, when they'd been so caught up in petty squabbling that they'd forgotten what had really mattered. Aegir hadn't truly expected to need them—he'd prefer to take care of his own problems, if possible—but he imagined an attack on a Union Leader would be…a bit conspicuous.

The assassin bowed; he couldn't see their face, and it irked him more than he'd like to admit. "My apologies. He was fighting with the others; I didn't realize he was the one you'd mentioned."

Aegir made a displeased noise. "I thought you'd be better at your job than this—but I suppose jobs are few and far between, these days. However," and now he did summon his Keyblade, leveling at the assassin's chest, "I expect better results next time."

The assassin didn't even flinch. "Of course."

They remained there a moment, the two of them in a brief, silent standoff. Aegir lowered his blade finally—not quite willing to dismiss it yet, but willing to give his employee breathing room. "What happened? I heard something about 'heart magic.'"

"The student—they had some sort of ability to tap into memories. They…did something to me. I was compromised and forced to flee."

Aegir didn't entirely believe that—but he could, at least, believe that Skuld had made an unintentionally powerful ally. Untrained, certainly—but a potential threat, if they grew in power. But perhaps useful, when in the right hands. "Do you have a good idea of what they look like?"
"Good enough."

"Good. Then I have a new mission for you: I want them taken alive. I'll give you the address." The abandoned towns might not be used anymore, but they still had land there; it would be a good place to hide them, until they'd learned a little more. "And this time, make sure my nephew isn't involved. He's a talented boy, but he's soft; he doesn't understand yet the lengths we have to go to in order to protect ourselves."

The assassin dipped their head; they were gone in a flash, swallowed by the shadows.

Alone, Aegir breathed out a long, slow breath. I suppose the rest of the family will have to be informed. He wasn't particularly looking forward to that conversation—but then, he supposed they'd understand. They'd worked long and hard to protect both this place and themselves; none of them would be willing to let things fall apart now because of a couple of children.

So this chapter took a little bit to finish partially because I was pretty busy last week (went to a Ren Faire for the first time! It was cool!), and partially because this chapter just…did not want to be written. I'm not entirely sure WHY I struggled with this one so much, but uh…hopefully it's still alright.