When the Celestial Brush was set upon its place on the diagram, it was more apparent than ever that only one element remained to complete the spell.
"We've almost made it," Mozenrath announced to the Huntsman, Wuya, Yzma, Mim, Aghoul, Snatcher, Roman, and Hans.
"I presume you'll look into the final piece straightaway," Snatcher suggested.
"A fire element won't be too much trouble," Mozenrath responded. "I'm sure there are hundreds of suitable objects. We seem to have made a habit out of resting on our laurels after every acquisition, and I'd say we earned the right this time. Shall we celebrate the usual way?"
"YOU'RE suggesting the usual way?" Yzma said, rather stunned.
"A little singing, a little dancing, a little drinking for those who are inclined," Mozenrath clarified.
"You NEVER start the party," Roman said incredulously.
"About time he started," Aghoul muttered.
"What can I say?" Mozenrath shrugged. "A certain someone's been rubbing off on me."
"I knew we'd get you eventually," Wuya responded.
"I was actually referring to Hans," Mozenrath corrected.
Of course he was, the Huntsman thought.
"So now that you're not completely anti-dancing," Hans suggested, "maybe I'll see you out on the floor?"
"Go ahead and make that a definite," Mozenrath told him. "Everyone else, spread the word. We'll meet in, say, two hours or so."
"Consider it done," Snatcher said with a nod. With that, he left the room, Roman following him; the others filtered out as well, Yzma with Wuya and Mim with Aghoul. The Huntsman lingered only a moment before exiting as well; he had certain plans in mind that two hours would allow him.
"I'm guessing you want your alone time before we make you act social," Hans told Mozenrath.
"You already know me too well," Mozenrath replied. "That's what makes you such a good partner."
In truth, he half wondered about inviting Hans to stay and speak with him a while. Half of him, however, protested vehemently, wanting solitude in order to cool off from all of the recent activity and ready himself for the next bout. He let Hans depart before transporting himself into his room.
...
Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, Jasmine, Katara, Kazuichi, and Rapunzel were arranged around a table in the restaurant in Sei'an City. While all had ordered food, they barely touched what was set before them except to dishevel it a little.
Around them, they could hear other patrons discussing the sudden vanishing of the sun and what it could possibly mean. Some were still shaken from Ninetails Sora's ravaging of the city, from which there was still much wear and tear done. No one at the table of travelers had the heart to inform anyone else of the truth of what had happened.
"She was more than just a protector of this world," Rapunzel sighed. "She was a friend. A good friend. She saw when we needed help, and she gave it to us."
"She always made sure we were safe," Katara added.
"Without her," Stork said in a melancholy tone, "there's a lot we wouldn't have figured out."
"She gave you the way to help me out when those foxes took over," Sora chimed in.
"She was the sun for this whole world," Jasmine noted, "and now that's gone forever."
Silence reigned again.
"Y'know…" Kazuichi piped up. "When I was in Neo World, we had to deal with losing friends all the time. We kept acting like no one was gonna die again, but it happened anyway. We just had to pick things up and move on." He knocked over a piece of sushi with a chopstick. "I don't feel like movin' on."
"But it's probably what we have to do," Katara resolved.
"It is what we have to do," Ruby insisted.
"YOU DON'T…" Papyrus broke in. "YOU DON'T THINK THIS WAS OUR FAULT, DO YOU?"
"If you didn't have to save me," Sora realized, "we could've all gone with her together."
"Maybe we didn't even all have to go to save you," Katara added. "We all wanted to because you're so important to us. But if even one of us had gone with Amaterasu back to the field…"
"Then that person would be dead too," Stork said firmly. "This was planned. They knew how to split us apart. Keeping us running around solving problems was part of it, too. There's nothing we could've done differently."
"But now the sun won't rise on this world again," Rapunzel reminded him, "and the goddess who looked out for everyone is…gone. This is bigger than just us losing a friend."
"We have to inform the people eventually," Jasmine realized. "They have to know what happened."
"Maybe we can do something to fix it," Sora suggested.
"Like WHAT?" Kazuichi asked, already frustrated. "What the HELL are we supposed to do about this?"
"We were the heroes," Ruby sighed. "It was our job to make sure stuff like this didn't happen."
"I wonder what she'd want us to do," Katara mused.
"I wonder what she WOULD do," Jasmine added.
A soft voice broke in: "Pardonnez-moi, but I see you are discussing the recent loss of Amaterasu. Might I join you for but a moment?"
Surprised, all looked at the newcomer: a tall man dressed in flowing clothes of pink and purple. His hair was obscured by a hat from which long plumes of feathers trailed.
"Who the hell are you?" Kazuichi asked. "And how do you know what just happened?"
"Kazuichi!" Katara scolded. "That was rude!"
"He meant 'Who the HECK are you?'," Ruby corrected.
"That didn't make it better," Katara groaned.
Jasmine couldn't help but smile at the exchange: a little bit of ridiculousness hidden within the grief.
The man took a seat at their table. "My name is Waka," he introduced. "You might say I am…cut from the same cloth as Amaterasu."
"So you're a god!" Sora cried.
"Shhh!" Rapunzel hissed. "Not so loud! Nobody else noticed him, so I don't think anyone else knows!"
"I do keep a lower profile than some," Waka admitted, "though if word were to get out of my true nature, I would welcome a little attention." He gave the group a proud smile for a moment; it quickly faded. "I was aware of your adventures with ma chèrie, even if I did not follow every moment. When the sun disappeared, I knew what must have happened. I sought you in hopes of illuminating the situation, even though there is little light to be found at a time like this."
"You want to know what happened," Ruby realized.
"It was our enemy," Jasmine seethed. "He came from another world looking for power. He wanted to take the Celestial Brush for himself. That's why he killed Amaterasu."
"I see," Waka mused. "And what became of Issun?"
"We never found that guy," Kazuichi said mournfully. "Pretty sure they killed him, too."
Waka nodded. "I was aware of several incidents plaguing the land that were not tied to demon activity, though I was well aware ma chèrie had such things under control. Even I, with my foresight, did not see the outcome of this."
"WITH YOUR FORESIGHT?" Papyrus questioned. "DO YOU MEAN GOOD INSTINCTS, OR ARE YOU CLAIMING – "
"To know the future, yes," Waka clarified. "I am a prophet, and I know much of what is to happen. Not all, however. And today, not enough. Were I only more cognizant of the danger, I could have protected Amaterasu, perhaps even saved her life. You must be blaming yourselves for the events that have transpired when in fact, the fault lies with me. Do not trouble yourselves with it any longer. Contend with the grief of her loss, but do not shoulder the blame. Moreover, do not worry about breaking the news to the denizens of this world. That is a responsibility I shall bear."
"Thank you," Jasmine told him. "That will help us a lot."
"Beyond that, I wish you the hope and strength to move forward," Waka continued. "Amaterasu was a beacon that shone for many, and I see you are no exception."
"What was she to you?" Ruby asked.
"What was she to me?" Waka repeated, smiling softly. "Quite special, to be sure. Existence without her will not be easy at all. Yet I will find my way. Do not worry for me. I would worry more about yourselves."
On that ominous note, he rose from the table. "I shall leave you to your own devices," he declared. "But first, it would hardly be civil of me to depart without relaying to you a prophecy." He pointed across the table to where Sora sat, serving as the group's epicenter. "I foresee a battle with chaos itself in your future!"
With that, he turned and walked away.
"I wonder if there's more we could do to help him," Jasmine mused.
"HE DOESN'T SEEM TO WANT OUR HELP," Papyrus observed. "WE SHOULD LEAVE HIM TO IT."
"Prophecy," Sora muttered. Waka's words had stirred up a memory within him, and pieces of a puzzle were rapidly fitting together in his mind. He pounded a fist onto the table; "THAT'S IT!"
"What's it?" Ruby asked. "What did you figure out?"
"And why do I already not like it?" Stork wondered out loud.
"There's a way to get Amaterasu back!" Sora said with a beam.
Katara shook her head. "Sora, it's not possible. We don't even know what happens to gods when they die."
"You better not be about to tell me we're all in another simulation and Amaterasu is just unconscious," Kazuichi said nervously. "How many layers does it even go?"
"But there's one thing that could change the fact that she died," Sora pointed out. "It could change everything! At least, I think it could. The only way to know is to try it for ourselves!"
"And what," Stork asked flatly, "dare I ask, is this thing we are trying that I already know I absolutely do not want to get within one hundred feet of trying?"
"The Book of Prophecies," Sora answered. "You know, that thing Maleficent's been looking for! It's supposed to have the power to change the future, right? So what if we wrote in it that Amaterasu never died? Or that she came back to life? Then she'd be back!"
"I don't like this either," Kazuichi said. "That sounds like too much of a cheat code. If it were that easy, why didn't that prophet guy tell us to just go do it?"
"It doesn't sound safe," Jasmine added. "Maleficent is putting everything into the search for this book. That means it's dangerous."
"Not to mention she already thinks you know where it is," Stork reminded Sora. "If we find it, what's stopping her from just stepping in and stealing it away from us?"
"She doesn't know where we are," Sora said flippantly, not knowing any better. "We just have to be careful and sneaky when we look for it."
"WHERE ARE WE EVEN GOING TO FIND IT?" Papyrus asked.
"I don't know," Sora replied, "but I'm pretty sure I know who does! We need to get back to Radiant Garden!" His confidence in his plan bolstering his mood, he began shoveling his food into his mouth.
"It still doesn't seem right," Jasmine told him. "There's a reason the book hasn't been used to save all those we've unfairly lost already."
"This is about more than just bringing back our friend," Ruby reminded Jasmine. "This world is now in an eternal night. It doesn't have its protector anymore. We're not looking for the book just so we can bring our friend back. We're doing it to save this whole world."
"Ruby's got a point," Kazuichi said with a nod.
"WE DID MAKE THIS MESS," Papyrus added. "AND WHEN YOU MAKE A MESS, THE ONLY RESPONSIBLE THING TO DO IS CLEAN IT UP!"
"If there's even a chance we can do this," Rapunzel pleaded, "we have to try."
Stork, Jasmine, and Katara exchanged glances.
"Well, it's not like things can get much worse," Katara chipped in.
"Oh, things can always get worse," Stork told her. "So much worse. But, since we're doomed no matter what, and I know the rest of you aren't going to give up on this incredibly terrible idea, I'm in."
Jasmine had immense reservations. However, she, like Stork, knew she was outvoted. "I'll help you look into it," she decided, if only to make sure the rest of her friends didn't bite off more than they could chew.
On the note of biting and chewing, she too took up her eating utensils, and the rest of the table followed suit so they could finish up at the restaurant and begin the voyage home.
...
Vexen ran tests on perhaps the hundredth variety of crystal he had discovered in the base, trying to see if he could alter its properties through chemical tinkering. While at first, the stone gave off heat, Vexen had put it through its paces, dripping various substances upon it to note its reaction. All the while, Ravess sat on the other side of his lab table, adjusting her violin and testing its pitch. She had to admit an interest in this experiment, having never considered whether the crystals she relied on so much could be altered through human means, and so kept an eye on Vexen's work as she set bow to string only to find that the tuning was wrong again. So she adjusted once more. Vexen would find the noise grating if it came from anyone else, but he was willing to put up with it given the current circumstance, and if Ravess wished to practice or otherwise play, he was quite ready to give her the okay to do so in his workspace.
Both of their work was interrupted by a loud scream of "WOOOOOOOOOOO!" that heralded Roman Torchwick's arrival. Roman landed on the floor at the lab's entrance, remarking "NEVER gonna get tired of that!" as he straightened up. Striding toward the lab table, he aimed a pair of finger guns at Vexen and Ravess. "What's going on, nerds?"
"Nothing you need concern yourself with," Vexen replied without looking up from his work.
"Well, I've got something you can concern yourself with, Iceman," Roman announced. "You too, Maestro. We're taking over the usual room for a victory party in just less than two hours. Maybe one of you will actually not be a buzzkill today and get up on the stage or out on the dancefloor."
"The stage, perhaps," Ravess answered haughtily. "However, you will hardly see me dance to – "
Roman was already on his way to the exit. "Later, nerds!"
"Oooooohhhh." Ravess turned back toward Vexen, rising from her seat. "As I was SAYING, you would hardly see me dance to anything they called music. None of it is in a suitable ¾ time signature."
"You waltz, then," Vexen identified.
"Of course I waltz!" Ravess insisted, setting her violin aside so she could slam her hands down on the table. "What sort of uncultured dance would you expect me to do?"
"It seems we are kindred spirits, then." Vexen lifted his head to fix his eyes upon hers, giving her a legitimate grin. "The waltz always has been my dance of choice."
"You would need a partner," Ravess informed him.
"That I would," Vexen affirmed.
"As would I, if the occasion arose," Ravess continued.
"Very true."
They held eye contact for a moment longer, each daring the other to be the first to say it.
"There will, of course, be no occasion for it at this get-together," Vexen reminded her.
"I am aware."
"Yet it seems only logical that if the occasion ever did arise," Vexen went on, "you and I should be partners in dance."
"It does make more sense than anything," Ravess agreed. "Alas, the only way to hear anything in ¾ is if I play it myself, and I can't waltz while playing the song."
She settled back down in her seat, and for a moment, she and Vexen returned to their respective projects. The violin was finally in tune, and Ravess played a few experimental notes to ensure its proper settings. It wasn't an unpleasant sound from where Vexen sat.
"We DO have the same understanding of what the waltz is, don't we?" Ravess asked suddenly. "We come from different worlds. It wouldn't do if we were talking about an altogether different dance from each other."
"It certainly would not," Vexen affirmed, setting the crystal aside. "There is, of course, only one way to ensure we are on the same page: through trial and potential error."
"There won't be music," Ravess reminded him.
"We can both keep time in our heads," Vexen responded.
They rose, stepping out into the center of the laboratory to put their idea of the dance to the test. Their hands settled into the proper places with no nonsense about it: Vexen's on Ravess' waist, Ravess' on Vexen's shoulder, and their remaining hands clasped. Ravess counted them in with a "ONE-two-three, ONE-two-three" before falling silent; the beat went on in their minds, and with Vexen leading, they danced stiffly, rhythmically, there in the laboratory's dead silence.
After a few counts, Vexen halted, letting go of Ravess, and she removed her own hands from him. "It seems we are in understanding," he confirmed.
"Yes," she responded. "It seems we are."
She leaned forward suddenly, pressing her lips to his.
Vexen stepped back hurriedly; Ravess stumbled, caught off guard. "You are NOT to do that again without my EXPRESS permission," Vexen snapped.
"Were we not both aware of where this was going?" Ravess asked. "You and I are the only people truly able to appreciate each other's company, and our – " The full implication of what he had said finally hit home. "Wait. Are you saying I am allowed to kiss you so long as I have your consent?"
"I would not be averse to it," Vexen confirmed. "In fact, I would rather enjoy such a thing. But ONLY if asked properly."
"Then I apologize for not doing so," Ravess told him. "It was quite unbecoming of me."
"Furthermore," Vexen went on, "if we are to elevate our relationship to one with a romantic status, I have very strict boundaries I insist you respect."
Ravess nodded. "Enlighten me."
"Failure to be aware of these boundaries will mean an inherent inability to sustain the sort of relationship we are both proceeding toward," Vexen insisted.
"I understand!" Ravess said firmly. "I cannot follow guidelines if I don't KNOW WHAT THEY ARE!"
"Very well," Vexen said with a nod. "I have always been averse to touch. With you, that aversion is less strong, and I am willing to make exceptions, but not many. Kisses such as what you gave me a moment ago are allowed. Hand-to-hand contact is also permissible. As is the necessary contact for dance. I do not, however, cuddle." This last word was said with great distaste. "Nor do I embrace, stroke, or pet."
"All duly noted," Ravess replied.
Vexen was pleased and rather surprised she had taken that well. It was time to play the most important card. "Furthermore," he stated, "if you are looking to gain sexual intercourse from me, you will not get it. I have never felt such…stirrings. And I am well aware that I never will. The idea, to me, is utterly repulsive. If this is not acceptable for you, then I suggest you turn your heart elsewhere."
"Well, I admittedly had CONSIDERED a physical relationship," Ravess admitted, "but it isn't NECESSARY. Our partnership has always been more of a meeting of the minds, after all. And now that you have emotions, a meeting of those to boot. I accept all of your terms."
A tiny piece of Vexen, buried far within, was relieved she had done so. He remembered, when he was a teenager, feeling superior to his colleagues in his lack of sexual attraction at first, but as gossip about such matters intensified among his peers during his early twenties, he had wondered if he were somehow broken. A quick study into the notion of asexuality had rendered this worry obsolete, but that was back when Vexen – or, more accurately, Even – had been concerned about love, and worried he might never find someone to be his partner if their relationship was not physical. A couple more years had put him above worrying about such a triviality, as romance became less and less of a priority. He had thought his worries about asexuality were by the current point erased. Yet he still felt the release of a weight within his heart (still an accursed piece of him, and yet one he was now too used to possessing). "You realize I am also asking that we never share a bed even in the literal sense."
"Fine by me," Ravess replied. "Though could our beds at least be in the same room?"
"That can be arranged," Vexen told her. "You would not want to sleep adjacent to my skin all the same. I am told I am cold to the touch." He had been informed so by a very intrusive Braig, who had insisted on poking his face as a form of annoyance. "I have given you my terms. You may now list any and all of yours."
Ravess thought it over. "None come to mind," she replied, "but I shall inform you if that changes."
"Then we are in agreement."
"It seems we are." And both much happier for it.
"I shall return to my work for the time being," Vexen stated. "Feel free to utilize this space to play music to your heart's content. Then, I assume we shall enter the celebration as each other's escorts?"
"But of course," Ravess told him. "There is, after all, an infinitesimal chance they will play SOMETHING danceable."
They sat once more across the table from each other, Ravess taking up her violin to perform a slow, meditative tune as Vexen immersed the heat crystal in a full beaker.
...
Electricity crashed across the central chamber of Villain's Vale as Maleficent took out her rage. By now, all but one had emptied out, not wanting to be in the vicinity of her wrath. That one wasn't sure she could make the situation any better, but she was sure going to try.
"Aw, gee, Maleficent," Harley said, "I know it ain't what we wanted, but we can always just start again. It'll go better next time!"
"Do you believe I have any CHOICE?" Maleficent rounded on Harley, fists clenching. "There is no outcome but to start again. I refuse to give in when victory is within my grasp! Yet to think that the rewriting of reality itself could be bested by a mere boy!"
"That's just kinda what happens," Harley said with a shrug. "It's how archenemies work, y'know? You chase them, they chase you, they end up throwin' ya in the slammer…it's all part of the game. Wouldn't be any fun if there weren't a bat to chase, would it? Or, for us, a Riku. He's actually a lot more fun than Batsy. He – "
"If allowing room for defeat is but a part of the game you play," Maleficent seethed, "perhaps you should be removed from the board entirely. I hold no tolerance for defeat."
"Removed from the board?" Harley was suddenly terrified, aware of how much she had misspoken. "You don't mean like…I'm sorry! We're gonna get that bratty kid next time, and I'm gonna beat the crap outta him! I promise!"
Maleficent very nearly transformed Harley into a mere stain on the floor. However, she was aware that Harley had not technically failed her yet and could prove useful if put to the right assignment. Her people skills did give her an advantage as a manipulator; if only manipulation were in Harley's primary mindset. "I will consider how best to utilize your talents," Maleficent replied, still steaming. "When the time comes, you had best rise to the occasion, lest you find yourself come to an agonizing end."
"I hate agonizing ends!" Harley insisted. "I ain't gonna let you down no more!"
"See to it." Maleficent turned to stalk from the room. "I, in the meantime, shall consult Grimhilde. Perhaps she has seen the boy Sora move toward the book after all." She was aware it was an unlikely event all the same as she removed herself from Harley's presence.
Harley took a different exit from the room, barely having any time to reflect on her interaction with Maleficent before she had run full-on into the Joker.
"Harley, Harley, Harley," he greeted. "Been avoiding me, have you?"
"No!" Harley denied. "No siree! Why would I ever avoid you? You know I love ya!"
"Yet you were conveniently nowhere to be found during the blackout," the Joker reminded her. "Such a shame. I had looked so forward to splitting the profits with you. But perhaps you don't deserve that much."
"I ain't been avoidin' ya!" Harley insisted. "It's a big castle! We ain't run into each other, that's all!"
"I suppose that makes sense," the Joker replied, knowing full well Harley was lying. "What a load off my mind! I wasn't looking forward to having to come up with a suitable punishment for breaking up our little partnership in crime."
"Punishment?" Harley repeated. "Ain't I allowed to fly solo?"
"And leave me all by my lonesome?" the Joker countered. "I don't think my heart could bear it!"
"You bore it well enough durin' that blackout or whatever ya mentioned," Harley told him. She knew quite well what had transpired during the blackout, but if she could feign ignorance as to what the event was, perhaps she could make him buy her excuse.
"With a heavy heart," the Joker said altogether unconvincingly. "And if you break my heart, surely you shouldn't get off scot-free, should you?"
Harley sighed. "Just tell me what we're doin' next. I'll be there this time."
"Oh, nothing specific yet," the Joker informed her. "But it's good to have you back on board! I did miss you, Harley. A crime done without you is like a pie in the face without the cream: just an empty pan."
And you'd like that, wouldn't you, Harley thought; smacking someone in the face with a metal pan until they bled. "Just lemme know when you think of somethin'," she grunted.
"Oh," he assured her, "I will."
He let her pass, obviously having his own separate way to go. Harley walked down to the magic lab where she usually did her reading and practice with the sands, keeping a cool exterior all the way there. She closed the door behind her, examining the book alcove and the interior cauldron space for occupants. There was no one there but her.
With a roar, she tipped one of the heavy cauldrons completely over. Her hands whipped through the air, grabbing every bottle of stored-up potion component on the shelves and hurling the lot at the ground to smash cacophonously. When the shelves were half bare, only then was Harley's rage sated, and she leaned back against the wall to catch her breath.
The Joker was out to get her. Maleficent was going to punish her if she misstepped. More and more, she felt as though she didn't belong here. But if she didn't belong here, where did she belong?
The nausea set in, as did the worries. That she would die here. That she would end up on the run all by herself. All sorts of torture that spanned between those two fates. She refused to let herself cry.
This couldn't go on much longer, she knew. Eventually it would have to come to an end. And if she wanted to survive that end, she would have to take the initiative and make the first move.
...
The Huntsman finished his work just in time; the party was about to start.
When Amaterasu had perished, her red markings of divinity had unfortunately drained away from her skin, leaving her fur pure white. That was a mild disappointment; being able to bear the obvious markings of a fallen god was appealing to the Huntsman. All the same, he knew where he had gotten the pelt, and it would look striking.
He hung up his time-tested and worn cape in the closet, donning the new one he'd made out of Amaterasu's fur. The process of making it had been messy, and when he returned from the soirée, he would have quite the disorder to clean up in the kitchen. A full-length mirror was set up in the bedroom; the Huntsman admired his ensemble with its new piece for a moment before making to depart.
He hung back.
After a good, hard think, he decided to remove a different piece and leave it behind.
By the time he got to the karaoke room, most of the others had already arrived and were arranging themselves at the tables before the stage. That stage was occupied by Gothel, who sang a jaunty little number about pursuing the one you admired until the end. The Huntsman's eyes gravitated to the table closest to the stage, where Snatcher, Roman, Mim, Aghoul, Wuya, and Yzma were arranged. Mozenrath was conspicuously absent; all the same, the Huntsman knew this was his table.
As he approached, Yzma was the first to notice his arrival; her jaw dropped, and she shook Wuya's arm to get her attention.
"What – " Wuya turned to look where Yzma was gaping. Her face became frozen in an identical look of surprise.
The Huntsman took his seat without a word. Aghoul and Mim noticed him by then, sputtering syllables as they took in the sight of him. Roman looked to him next, uttering a "HOLY – ".
Snatcher was the final person to take his eyes off Gothel and turn them toward the Huntsman. "For goodness' sake," he sighed, "what ARE you all…" His eyes widened. "Oh."
The Huntsman had left his helmet behind, choosing to literally show his face to all in attendance at this party.
"Now, this is an unexpected surprise," Aghoul finally managed.
"You do not need to put on such a performance," the Huntsman stated. "You all knew I bore a human face."
"This…is no performance," Yzma sputtered. "We didn't think we'd ever SEE that face!"
"Hmm," Mim sighed, "so that's what it looks like. I don't see what Mozenrath saw in it."
"I rather do," Snatcher said quietly.
"So?" Wuya gave a shrug. "Why ditch the helmet?"
"I determined it was long past time," the Huntsman informed the others. "We are, after all, friends. I do not need to keep up professional airs around you. Furthermore…if any of you sees fit to refer to me as 'George Liu,' you may do so as long as we are OFF the field."
"He's been replaced by a shapeshifter," Wuya said flatly.
"Then we'll ask him a question only he would know the answer to," Yzma resolved. "Where are your scars?"
"I knew you were listening that night," the Huntsman grumbled, "and they are on my neck."
"It's him," Yzma concluded.
"Well, you might have an actual name now," Roman commented, "but I'm still calling you…" His lip curled. "Okay, so I CAN'T call you Skullface now that you don't have a giant skull on your face." He leaned across the table to get a closer look. "You do have SOMETHING on your face."
"My birthmark," the Huntsman answered. "The sign that I was destined to slay dragons."
"Is it supposed to look like something?" Roman asked.
"It is part of a dragon," the Huntsman answered, a little miffed with this line of questioning. "The rest of it is located elsewhere on my body."
"Can we see it?" Aghoul asked.
"No," the Huntsman said flatly.
"That means it's on his ass," Roman said self-assuredly.
"It is not," the Huntsman growled.
"Unless you prove otherwise," Roman told him, "I'm going with ass." He snapped his fingers. "Also, now, you're Dragonface."
"That is fair," the Huntsman replied. "I mean, of course, the nickname." Itching to change the subject, he noted, "Mozenrath is late."
"Oh, no, he's not," Wuya informed the Huntsman. "He's just not sitting with us tonight."
"He's too busy making lovey-dovey faces at his boyfriend," Mim huffed. "Disgusting!" She jammed a thumb in the designated direction.
The Huntsman followed the gesture to see Mozenrath and Hans sitting together at a table across the room, engaged in a deep conversation. Mozenrath, feeling a pair of eyes upon him, tilted his head just long enough to notice the Huntsman's lack of head covering; the sight shocked him into temporary silence.
"Um…Mozenrath?" Hans asked, waving his hand in front of Mozenrath's face. "You okay?" He shot a glance at the other founders' table. "Huh. So that's what his face looks like."
"He…never shows it in public," Mozenrath said dumbfoundedly.
"Seriously?" Hans asked. "You mean to tell me he wears that helmet everywhere. Indoors. Among friends."
"He did, anyway," Mozenrath remarked.
Hans shrugged. "News to me. His face isn't much to look at anyway."
From an objective perspective, Mozenrath disagreed, but he wasn't about to tell Hans that. "Yours is better," he settled. "Now, where was I?"
"You were telling me about how you were captured by the Earth Kingdom," Hans reminded him.
"Right," Mozenrath said, tearing his gaze away from the Huntsman. "I still had no idea what was going on, and I was half-dead at the time, which was…how do I put this…annoying."
When Mozenrath looked away from the Huntsman, the Huntsman looked away from him. "Are we all sure Hans is trustworthy?" he asked.
"I searched his mind," Wuya confirmed. "There isn't much going on upstairs, apparently, but he's clean."
"Is someone a little jealous?" Aghoul asked.
"No," the Huntsman growled. "There is simply something about him that strikes me as disagreeable."
"And that something is the fact that he's dating your ex," Yzma argued. "Who you obviously still have feelings for."
"Mozenrath and I discussed the matter after I returned from my homeworld," the Huntsman stated, "and we are thoroughly disinterested in each other aside from our mutual friendship."
"Perhaps he is," Snatcher suggested. "After all, he's moved on. But is that your heart talking or your pride?"
The Huntsman glowered at Snatcher without a word.
"Would you prefer I not air your dirty laundry in public?" Snatcher teased. "Remember who it was that brought you back around in the first place."
"Who was that?" Aghoul asked.
"It was ME," Snatcher groaned. "Was that not clear?"
"I have no use for romantic dalliances," the Huntsman insisted. "They're more trouble than they are worth."
"Should we just wait and let him figure it out on his own?" Yzma asked.
"He'll see it," Wuya agreed.
It took the Huntsman a moment. Then it became painfully clear he was the only single person at the table, and none of the other six seemed any worse off for it. "You're referring to the rest of you."
"He saw it," Wuya said with a grin.
"You're really the only one here who's had a PROBLEM with dating," Roman pointed out. "Gee, I wonder why that is. Because you're a hardass who likes pretending he doesn't have emotions or because you like blaming other people for your fuckups?"
"At least mine are nowhere near as numerous as yours," the Huntsman retorted.
"Not relevant," Roman replied, "seeing as I have a stable relationship that has actually improved my life."
"I'm sure Mr. Snatcher would greatly appreciate it if you came home from so much as one mission without an injury that exceeds the capacity of your Aura," the Huntsman retorted.
"…No comment," Snatcher muttered.
"We're not getting anywhere," Yzma sighed. "Let's just drop the subject."
"All right," Roman decided. "Dragonface. You never answered my music question back on the boat."
Somehow, the Huntsman's wandering eye had landed back on Mozenrath. The sorcerer was laughing. Hans was laughing. They were laughing with each other.
Mim snapped her fingers, and a small lightning bolt struck the table close enough to the Huntsman to make him flinch.
"I am sure my taste aligns with none of yours," the Huntsman stated. "However, I am in the mood for somewhat of a…demonstration."
"A demonstration," Yzma repeated.
"Yes," the Huntsman affirmed. "To perform a song I know well."
"Excuse me." Yzma got up from the table, walking away. She returned five minutes later with a glass of water. She then proceeded to take a deep drink out of the glass before spitting it across the table as though she had only just heard the news.
"RIGHTY has done more songs onstage than you have," Roman pointed out.
"All right, I'm double-checking this one to make SURE it isn't a shapeshifter." Wuya stood and walked around to the Huntsman, pressing a finger to his temple as he endured this with a flat expression. Wuya nodded; "It's him, all right."
"It is simply past time," the Huntsman asserted. "And besides, I have the desire to."
"So what's the song?" Wuya asked.
The Huntsman named it, and to his surprise, Wuya knew it.
Once the previous song ended, Wuya fixed the sound system to play the intro to the Huntsman's song of choice as he ascended to the stage. A bright spotlight turned directly upon him as he approached the microphone. Its illumination was powerful enough compared to the rest of the room that the Huntsman could get the impression he was the only person present. That made it easier not to accidentally look at Mozenrath.
From the Huntsman's throat came a slow, mournful song about not knowing what path to take once abandoned by a lover – or perhaps the singer had abandoned the lover and was filled with regret. At first, it was simply a display of a song he loved and a ritual he knew he had to undertake to fully feel he was part of the group more than ever before. Yet by the second verse, the Huntsman felt as though there was a grain of truth in the lyrics he put forth. Perhaps his friends had been more correctly observant than he liked to admit.
"He's actually GOOD," Aghoul muttered, stunned.
"Hmph," Mim asserted as she crossed her arms. "He's all right."
"No, he's really good," Roman said in a hushed tone.
"And I suppose he's going to claim these lyrics mean nothing when it's all over," Wuya said derisively.
"He's not doing a very good job at convincing us, really," Snatcher added. "Excellent vocals, all the same."
"Well, now I have to show HIM up," Yzma huffed.
Across the room, Mozenrath watched the Huntsman raptly, utterly stunned by the display. The Huntsman was practically a different person that night, first showing up without his helmet and then getting up onstage. The curiosity as to what had instigated this change was practically eating Mozenrath up. He resolved to ask about it when next he got a moment away from Hans.
"He's not bad," Hans commented. "But you knew that, right?"
"This is the first time he's ever done anything like this," Mozenrath said in awe.
"Huh," Hans replied. "Go figure."
The end of the song was met with thunderous applause. The Huntsman did not wait to hear the end of it, departing the stage quickly. He took his seat at the table with the other six once more, noting their gobsmacked expressions (except, of course, for Mim, whose face was casual).
"I take it I was either excellent or terrible," he remarked.
"Well, you're no Archie," Roman began.
"And you're no Yzma," Wuya added.
"But you were quite the musician," Snatcher commented. "One could truly feel the passion pulsing through your voice. No doubt helped along by the relevance of the song you chose."
The Huntsman was past the point of arguing. For one, he had tired the discussion of his feelings for Mozenrath out. For another, everyone else at the table had his number.
He glanced back toward Mozenrath and Hans' table. Those two were engaged in conversation once more and there was simply nothing to be done about it.
"Well, time to assert my title as queen of the stage," Yzma declared, rising from her seat.
"Not if I've anything to say about it," Snatcher replied. "But go on ahead and put on your little show. Don't be too heartbroken when I put you to shame in the following number."
"And that's when you know it's REALLY a party," Aghoul said in a satisfied tone.
Even the Huntsman had to admit he was entertained by this little rivalry. It truly was a good thing to have friends; they could help you take your mind off the heartbreak you'd been avoiding.
...
When the Gummi ship touched down at the edge of town, Riku was the first to run toward the disembarking Sora and sweep him into an embrace. "You came back," he said with a wide smile.
"I always come back!" Sora replied, his own smile just as wide.
"Wait until you hear about what happened while you were gone," Riku told him. "You're not gonna believe this, but you saved me without even being here."
"You did the same thing to me!" Sora replied.
They kissed quickly; Riku then asked, "So what were you all up to?"
But he noticed the somber demeanor of the other seven, who trudged slowly with morose expressions on their faces. Something had gone wrong, and Riku knew it.
"We need to talk in the library," Sora told him. "All of us."
...
The entire contingent arranged as usual in the library, holding off on explaining Maleficent's nightmare onslaught in order to hear Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, Jasmine, Katara, Kazuichi, and Rapunzel relay the tale of their adventures in Amaterasu's world and her subsequent fall.
"Waka said the sun would never rise again," Sora explained.
"AND WE CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL RESPONSIBLE," Papyrus added. "WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO PROTECT HER."
"Dear, dear," Merlin commented, "that is an unfortunate situation. There is sadly nothing to be done about it. None of the blame lies with you, however. It's that blasted Mozenrath!"
"We should've known he'd have something up his sleeve," Aladdin grumbled.
"There is something we can do about it, though," Sora insisted. "We have a plan. We just need a little help pulling it off."
"A plan to fix a problem even Merlin thinks there's no solution to," Leon commented. "I'm already not a fan. But I'll hear you out."
"All we need is the Book of Prophecies!" Sora announced. "Then we can write in it that Amaterasu isn't dead, and she'll be back!"
There was a thick silence for a moment after that. Merlin broke it eventually with an "Absolutely NOT."
"Does the book not work like that?" Sora asked.
"The Book of Prophecies does indeed change the fate of any event written on its pages to become true," Merlin informed him. "However, it is not to be used for mere resurrections."
"This isn't just any resurrection!" Ruby stamped her foot on the library floor. "Amaterasu is responsible for protecting that whole world!"
"And even that is not reason enough to retrieve the Book of Prophecies from its hiding place," Merlin explained. "For one, it is already bound to a world that needs it, and moving it would cause disaster."
"So we won't move the book," Sora resolved. "Easy-peasy."
"For another," Merlin continued, "using the book at all is incredibly dangerous. Changing fate could have consequences you cannot even imagine! For a third, we are all aware that Maleficent is after the book, and if you knew its location, there's all the more chance she could find it out!"
"So you DO know where it is!" Sora cried. "I knew it! If anyone knew, it'd be you, Merlin!"
"I do in fact know where the book is kept," Merlin affirmed, "and I refuse to divulge that knowledge with another living soul. There are too many risks! This discussion is closed!"
"But – " Sora tried to argue.
"CLOSED!" Merlin insisted.
"You don't understand – " Rapunzel attempted.
"WHEN I SAY A DISCUSSION IS CLOSED," Merlin insisted, "IT IS GOOD AND CLOSED! WE ARE NOT SPEAKING OF THE BOOK OF PROPHECIES ANYMORE!"
That got the eight travelers to drop the argument, falling silent as they gave Merlin pleading looks. Merlin wasn't swayed.
"All right," Sora sighed at last. "We need to know what happened here while we were gone."
"Speaking of the Book of Prophecies," Riku began, "Maleficent tried to bargain for it, and she used me as the collateral."
"WHAT?" Sora cried.
"Let's start from the beginning," Mickey suggested.
...
Long after all tales had been traded in the library, Sora, Ruby, Papyrus, Stork, Jasmine, Katara, Kazuichi, and Rapunzel found themselves in the kitchen, nursing hot drinks. It was apparent to everyone else that they needed time to mourn not only the loss of Amaterasu but the damage that had been caused to an entire world on their watch.
"It can't just be over," Ruby insisted. "There has to be something else. Something we're missing."
"I say we give up and we move on," Stork suggested.
"I don't like it either," Kazuichi added, "but what else can we do?"
"It's not like we know anyone else who knows where the Book of Prophecies is," Rapunzel added.
"We don't," Ruby asked to confirm, "do we?"
"No," Sora sighed. "Merlin was the only one. He's probably been keeping that secret for hundreds of years. He's been to all sorts of worlds and – "
He abruptly halted.
"SORA?" Papyrus said to get his attention.
"Hang on," Sora said, wide-eyed.
"Oh no," Stork groaned. "I don't like this. You just had another idea, didn't you?"
"I did," Sora admitted. "Maybe we don't know where the Book of Prophecies is. Maybe no one in this castle does. But I think…I might know who else would know. If Merlin does…then that means…" He cut himself off. "She's been following him around to every world. She's known about him for years. That means she has to have seen him visit the book sometimes."
"Who are you talking about?" Jasmine asked.
Sora looked around to meet the eyes of his seven companions. "Mad Madam Mim," he answered. "She's been Merlin's rival as long as he's been around. If he stopped to check in on the book or something, she probably would've followed him there!"
"Okay, this is the WORST idea," Stork said worriedly. "We can't deal with her! You know what she can do! She's part of the reason Amaterasu is dead in the first place!"
"But what else can we try?" Ruby asked. "This is our only lead, and we have to go for it."
"What are we going to do?" Stork asked. "Walk up to her and ask politely where the book is?"
"We could pretend we had something she wanted," Rapunzel suggested. "Something like…" It dawned upon her. "Me. They wanted me. You could pretend to hand me over in exchange for the book."
"THIS PLAN NOW ENDS IN RAPUNZEL BEING DEAD TOO!" Stork cried.
"WE ALREADY KNOW WE CAN PROTECT HER," Papyrus informed him. "BESIDES, IF SOMETHING DOES HAPPEN, WE CAN USE THE BOOK OF PROPHECIES TO UNDO IT!"
"Mim is going to see RIGHT THROUGH this plan!" Stork insisted. "And what if she brings Mozenrath?"
"Then we get the chance to punch him in the face as revenge for what he did!" Kazuichi asserted.
"Katara," Stork begged, "Jasmine, you two are voices of reason. Please, PLEASE help me out here."
"We can't try and make a reasonable deal with anyone who works with Mozenrath!" Katara snapped. "It'll just backfire on us, and we'll end up in trouble!"
"I don't even think we should be going after the book anymore," Jasmine added. "Merlin said it was too dangerous, and I think he's right."
"Well, you can all do what you want," Sora resolved. "But I'm going after the book the only way I know how."
"Count me in," Ruby said somberly.
"Me too," Kazuichi added. "Mostly because I wanna see if Mozenrath shows up so I can punch him in the fucking face."
"The plan can't even work without me," Rapunzel added, "so count me in too."
"I'M ON BOARD!" Papyrus added. "WITH ALL OF US WORKING TOGETHER, THERE'S NO WAY IT COULD GO WRONG!"
"Famous last words," Stork sighed as he rubbed his temples with his fingers. "Here's the problem. If all of you are going, I should by all means stay back and hide here where it's safe. But then if anything happens to you, it's on me. So I'm in too. Oh, I thought about telling on you to the higher-ups. But I KNOW all of you, and you're just going to go anyway. The least I can do is make sure you have backup."
"I'm not gonna let you put yourselves in danger without me either," Katara added. "I'll go. I don't like this, but I'll go."
Jasmine was silent a while before finally stating, "I want to make sure you're all safe. That's the only reason I'm going along."
"Should we tell anyone else?" Ruby asked. "Like Riku? Or Kairi?"
"I'm not sure they'd get it," Sora replied. "They didn't see what we saw. This should probably stay between the eight of us. So we're all in, right?"
He was met with seven nods.
"Then let's go ask the hourglass where we can find Mim," Sora resolved.