'Skuld discovers family politics.'


Chapter Seven: Bluebloods

"Alright, keep up," Meili said, heading through the Clock Tower halls at a brisk pace that was hard to match. "There's a lot to cover, and I don't want to repeat myself."

Skuld pursed her lips. She wasn't entirely sure what she'd been expecting from the other council members—something close to Frigga, maybe, polite if only to try and stay on her good side—but she wasn't particularly expecting the brusqueness. Maybe it makes sense, if what Brain was saying's true.

"Our job is keeping track of the worlds that come back—where they are, what they are, and what stage of restoration they're at. We take note of people, places, materials, and other stuff and pass that along to the appropriate channels."

"Like Brain and I were doing."

Meili huffed, and she couldn't tell if the sound was amused or annoyed. "Still working outside his lane." They waved the comment off, and when she caught their expression, it looked a little pinched. Definitely annoyed, then. "It's a lot of work, and it's dangerous. Rule number one: you never go alone. I don't care if you're a Keyblade wielder or Union Leader or what, you stick with your crew."

"Crew?"

Meili barely even stopped before a set of large double doors, throwing them open and striding purposefully into the room. Skuld, on the other hand, faltered for half a beat, eyes sweeping the room in an awed survey.

Desks lined the walls and filled the room's center, covered in books and materials and other items Skuld couldn't get a good glimpse of. A starchart, much larger than Brain's, was pinned to the back wall, covered in scribbled notes and hastily-added-on locations. People bustled about, some wearing heavy packs or what looked like armor, others bent over journals or papers.

It took her a moment to realize that Meili hadn't waited for her—and that they were still talking, heedless of her momentary pause. She shook her head and hurried after them.

"…always have a wielder. Though I guess for you, that's not a problem."

"I'm—I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

They paused to give her an unamused look.

She could feel her face heating, then yelped as she had to duck out of the way of someone hurrying towards the door.

Meili sighed and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Union Leaders." A little louder, they said, "I was saying that crews go out in teams of at least three, with at least one wielder per team." They gestured broadly around the room. "Our department has a lot of talented people—wielders, map makers, and the like. You'll need to get to know them to figure out who'd work best for what mission." A touch of pride entered their voice. "Occasionally other wielders will tag along—for training or for particularly dangerous missions—but most of the time you'll just be working with our staff. Talk to them. Treat them with respect; they know more than you about this."

She could acknowledge that was probably true, but the way they said it still rubbed her wrong. It made her feel almost like they expected her not to. "Of course. We did that with the Dandelions, too."

"Mm." They gave her only a cursory glance before heading towards another door, sandwiched between a couple of other desks, waving absently as someone called a greeting to them. "This is where the gear's stored." They threw open the door, stepping in and rummaging through some of the items, muttering to themself. The room was large, but still packed to the brim with backpacks and sleeping bags and heavy coats and all sorts of other items. "You'll need one of these." They unceremoniously dropped a backpack into her arms, leaving her fumbling to hold onto it. "And these." A water bottle and compass joined it. "Won't need some of this for every trip—depends on the length. Think carefully before setting out." They eyed her critically. "Normally you'd need some sort of protection, but as a wielder, you'll get armor eventually."

"Armor?"

"Didn't have that in the Unions, huh?"

She tensed. "We…did," she said carefully, "but it was rare." It made something bitter fill her throat, the shadows of dead wielders on a battlefield leaving imprints behind her eyes. "It…might've helped."

A flicker of something went across Meili's face, but it was gone before Skuld could place what it was. "At any rate—"

"Meili, I have—oh! Master Skuld!"

The voice was bright and familiar and too-loud, despite the chaos. Skuld's only relief was that it at least didn't sound much like Ephemer's. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, bracing herself. It's fine, it's fine, it's fine—

Meili frowned. "Kvasir. I'm busy giving a tour."

"Yes, yes, sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to run an idea by you—"

"No."

"You haven't even heard—"

"No. I've heard your 'ideas' before, and they tend to be shit."

Skuld turned, finally.

It's not fine.

The room had quieted, people stopping to stare, whispering in an almost uneasy way at her presence. Kvasir seemed immune to all of it, grinning in a way that was somehow still too familiar, despite the generations that separated him from his ancestor. "Where's your sense of adventure?" he asked, and Skuld heard the echo of someone else.

("Come on, Skuld, it'll be fun!"

"Ephemer, no.")

"Tempered by a sense of self-preservation." Meili glanced past Kvasir with a frown. "Stop staring. Yes, there's a Union Leader here. Yes, she's joining us. Yes, you have better things to be doing. Go on, the day's not over."

The room filled with general discontented muttering, but gradually people got back to work.

Kvasir didn't leave. His grin, if anything, had broadened. "You're joining the Exploration department?"

"I-I—yeah. Yeah, I am."

"When I said 'go on,'" Meili said pointedly, "I meant you, too."

"That's great!" Kvasir didn't so much as spare Meili a glance. "That means we'll be working together."

"We…will?" Oh, no.

"Or ignore me. I guess that's what you usually do." Meili brushed past them, making Skuld stumble a little, the backpack and other items nearly toppling to the floor. Skuld looked between them and Kvasir and back, then hurried after Meili.

Kvasir kept pace. "Do you mind if I join you? I have—well, I have questions to ask, if that's alright."

"I mind," Meili said pointedly.

"I—" Yes. No. I don't know. (You remind me of Ephemer.) "What kinds of questions?"

Meili made a discontented noise.

"About Master Ephemer! It's rare to get the opportunity to talk to someone who knew him personally. There's—well, there's Master Brain, of course, but he's a bit prickly about the subject. Could never quite convince him to open up." Kvasir paused, then added with a frown, "Well, he did once, after some pestering, but it was some made-up story about Master Ephemer nearly burning down the Clock Tower—"

"That was real."

Kvasir stopped mid-sentence, blinking owlishly. His face settled into a bemused smile. "What?"

"It's real. Ven was sick—he tried to make something for him when Lauriam was out." Skuld found herself smiling softly, despite herself. "Lauriam found the mess afterward and chewed him out for it." She'd escaped that scolding, thankfully, but probably only because she'd found out halfway through and tried to help Ephemer fix the problem. Brain had been oblivious, and laughed at the story until Lauriam had turned on him for hiding in the Foretellers' Chambers all day. She guessed it must've stuck with him, though, and snorted with quiet laughter, despite herself. "He also—"

She broke off at the expression on Kvasir's face—still vaguely confused, but with something a little awkward and uneasy there, too. Her mouth clamped shut, and she turned sharply away, suddenly uncertain whether she wanted to answer his questions at all.

"Ah—well. You'll like it here, I think. Exploration's the most interesting department—it's why I asked if I could join it."

"You," Meili said, tilting their head skyward with an exasperated sigh, "were supposed to be helping with paperwork. And speaking of—"

"It's almost done," Kvasir said, looking relieved to fall into something familiar. "And anyway, it's important to have a qualified wielder on missions. I'm helping."

Meili muttered something, rubbing the bridge of their nose. "That what your uncle told you when he got you this internship?"

"I got it because I'm at the top of my class," Kvasir said, but there wasn't any heat in the words; if anything, he looked like he enjoyed the banter. "I could become a council member one day, too—maybe even the next Head of Exploration." He slung his arm over Meili's shoulder.

"Doubtful," Meili grunted, and Skuld squinted at them, wondering why they looked so awkward at that. "In any case—"

"Did they have missions back in Daybreak Town?" Kvasir asked, whipping back towards Skuld. "Before the fall? I realize the worlds must've still been young, but—"

"Lights, Kvasir—"

"No," Skuld said, too quick and clipped. "We didn't—it was complicated. We never made it off-world."

"Really? Then you'll have to—"

"Paperwork!" Meili shouted, throwing their hands into the air. "Stars, Kvasir, can you shut up long enough that I can tell her what she's supposed to do?"

Kvasir had the decency to look sheepish. "Well. I am technically your apprentice—"

"Unwilling intern."

"—so I should help."

"You have a weird definition of helping." They gave Skuld an exasperated look. "You'll go on some missions, but most of our stuff is clerical. We make missions, take reports, check starcharts, keep track of data on different worlds—stuff like that. Speaking of…" They trailed off and headed away, forcing Skuld and Kvasir to hurry after them.

"Is it…always like this?" Skuld asked.
"Hmm? Oh, with Meili?" Kvasir snorted and smiled. "They don't mean any of it, really—they just want to make sure anyone who's going to be in charge is going to do things right." His expression morphed into a frown. "I guess you're not the only one to worry, though. My uncle doesn't like them much—nor some of my other family members. I think it's just because it looks like they treat me rough—but once you get to know them, you just realize that's what they're like."

Something about that struck Skuld as off in a way she couldn't place, but she didn't know how to even begin phrasing her question, and so she stayed silent, turning the words over carefully.

Meili cleared their throat. "Anyway," they said, giving them both pointed looks, "missions." They slapped a hand against a large bulletin board covered in papers, and Skuld was more than a little relieved to have something familiar to latch onto. "There'll be stuff up here for people to take—but they have to run it by me first. Or us now, I guess." They looked faintly disgruntled at the fact.

"Unless you're a high enough rank," Kvasir whispered with a smile.

"No," Meili said with strained exasperation, "that's just something you bluebloods like to do."

"Bluebloods?" Skuld repeated.

"Master Ephemer's descendants," Kvasir answered.

Skuld swiveled towards Meili in surprise. "You're not related?" It made sense, she guessed; they didn't look much like Ephemer, but she'd thought that maybe the generations had just hidden the resemblance.

"Not everyone's related to the guy," Meili said, but their eyes shifted sideways, arms folded defensively. "Sorry to disappoint."

Skuld winced, opening her mouth to apologize—

"Meili, you don't need to tell the same lie to every newbie." Kvasir said, sounding somewhere between reproachful and exasperated. To Skuld, he said, "They're illegitimate and didn't grow up with the rest of the family; they tell that story just to make sure that nobody tries use the excuse of not being 'noble' to slack off."

It took a minute for Skuld to register what he'd said. Not quite so long for Meili, who's eyes had narrowed, expression pinched. "They didn't ask you to tell me that," Skuld found herself saying, voice harder than she expected it to be.

Kvasir looked surprised—and so did Meili, discomfort turning to carefully-hidden shock. "I—well," Kvasir stammered, looking between the two of them. "I'm—I'm sorry. I just thought I should explain."

"You're good at sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," Meili said dryly. "If the stories are right, I guess you get that from your ancestor." They paused, then added, "Njord's not related to him, either, by the way. Neither is Bryn. Despite what the bluebloods would have you believe, relation doesn't mean shit for actual leadership ability. Some of the people on the council earned their positions."

Skuld didn't miss the 'some,' and couldn't help wondering which other members they were thinking of.

"It's not like it matters, though," Kvasir interjected quickly. "You're still family—that's what counts. It's not your fault your parents kept you away from the rest of us."

"It matters to some people," Meili responded, staring hard at Kvasir, and it took a moment for it to really click.

"Kvasir," Skuld asked before she could think better of it, "did your uncle—did he like Meili before he got you this internship?"

"Well, no—but that's just a misunderstanding, is all."

Meili gave Skuld a long, unreadable look, then turned and gestured for them to follow without saying anything.

Skuld's stomach churned. She suddenly wasn't sure she wanted to do this anymore.

"I…think I should probably apologize for that," Kvasir murmured, staring after them. "I don't know why it bothers them so much, though; it—"

"Kvasir. You should go. For now."

Kvasir turned towards her, looking vaguely hurt. "Oh. Right, I—I guess this might be a little distracting, when you need to get caught up to speed."

Skuld swallowed her guilt. "I just have something I need to ask Meili. That's all."

"Ah. Union Leader stuff?" Kvasir gave her an awkward sort of grin. "I'd love to be there, but I understand. I…suppose I'll see you around?"

She nodded after a hesitant moment, and Kvasir seemed to brighten a little at that. He turned to go, but he didn't stop casting curious looks back at them until someone else stopped to talk to him.

Meili hadn't waited. It took a while for Skuld to figure out where they'd gone—into what looked like a small office, paperwork spread out across their desk. They sat there, staring at it. "Thought maybe you gave up—but the tour's basically over, anyways."

Skuld hesitated. She stared at Meili, still working, and tried to figure out how to phrase what she wanted to say.

"Spit it out, kid. I can hear you thinking."

"He's supposed to take over for you. Or—or people wanted him to."

Meili studied her. "He was," they agreed, "until you came along."

It hit her harder than she expected. "What?"

"You're going to take over. You're a legend; that supersedes anything." They tilted their head back, laughing bitterly. "Guess Frigga's trying to get ahead of things. Easier to keep her position if the Union Leaders are busy elsewhere."

Skuld blinked, trying to figure out what to do with that information. "So this is—this is Frigga's fault."

Another laugh, just as bitter. "Only as much as it's the family's fault." They studied her face, then sighed. "Listen, there's no love lost between me and Frigga, but having your position taken by some kid that just got lucky? Yeah, I get her frustration. But there's nothing we can do about it, right? You're Union Leaders. The public loves you. It's not like we'd ever get a choice in the matter."

"I—Meili, I don't want to replace you. Really."

They gave her a bitter sort of smirk. "Doesn't matter. You will. Now that you're here, we're basically just waiting for the clock to run out."

I'm not staying, she wanted to say, and it made something ugly and uncomfortable twist in her chest. Brain and I are going to find the others. The words sat heavy on her tongue, and she bit them back, swallowing and trying to ignore how much they burned. Meili was part of the council; she had no idea what it would mean if they knew, or what would happen if they took the information back to Frigga. But staying silent made the room feel small and cramped, her shoulders heavy under the weight of Meili's gaze. "I won't," she repeated, and she hated how weak it sounded.

Meili's expression softened, if only a little. They sighed, leaning back in their chair, running a tired hand over their face. "Look, just—go take a break. I need one, you probably need one. When you get back, we can pretend this whole conversation never happened."

"Meili—"

"Go."

She couldn't do anything but listen, slipping out of the office with a bundle of supplies in her arms and too many eyes on her back. Leaving left her feeling strangely unmoored, the conversation crawling across her skin and leaving her jittery.

I need to talk to Brain. The thought turned her feet down the hallway, giving her anxious energy purpose. He'll—he'll know more about this. He's been here longer. And—and he should probably know what's going on.

She stared at the supplies in her arms, then resolved to store them back in the apartment and come back. At the very least, she hoped it'd make her feel less like she wanted to run away.


-Skuld had been through the entire Clock Tower it felt like, and she still had no idea where Brain was. (It didn't help that no one else in the Clock Tower seemed to have any idea, either; there were mumbled mentions of, "He kind of just does his own thing," and, "I think I've seen him in the library before?" but nothing that gave her any actual directions to go off of.)

Skuld released a long, slow breath, running a hand over her face. Brain's charm jangled in the bag at her waist, and she pulled it out carefully, fingers running over the delicate metal. "You couldn't lead me to Brain, could you?"

The charm didn't do anything. She'd half expected it to, considering who'd made it, and tried not to feel too disappointed.

She didn't need to find him, technically; she was sure they could talk about things later, when they both found their ways back to the apartment. But she was still buzzing from her conversation with Meili, the words thick in her chest and clogging her throat, and she desperately wanted to get them out. (You're going to have to stick with this, some part of her whispered, ugly and uncomfortable. If you want to figure out where the others are.

If they're in this time at all.)

(What are you supposed to do if this is all for nothing?)

She couldn't bring herself to go back to the Exploration department—not yet, anyways, the idea making it feel like something was wrapping tightly around her chest—and wandering around the Clock Tower felt familiar in an uncomfortable way, and so she let her feet guide her out into Scala's streets. She didn't entirely know where she was heading, but the eyes of occasional passersby made her skin crawl, so she slid into the backstreets, lurking behind buildings like a shadow. Her ears rang, and it took a moment to realize it wasn't just from her thoughts, the sound of metal on metal echoing through the streets. Her feet turned towards it like a compass, drawing her further away from familiar places and into unknown territory.

The sound came from what looked like a training field nestled near an off-shoot of the Clock Tower. Tall pillars surrounded it, protecting it from prying eyes, but it didn't seem like the public was entirely unwelcome, given that a couple of people were wandering close by. Several statues clustered around the edges—one was familiar, Ephemer's stone face making something stutter uncomfortably in her chest, but most weren't, featuring wielders she didn't recognize in various poses. She stalled briefly beside one—a woman in armor, wielding a Keyblade with sharp, sweeping wings high above her head.

Clanging metal and shouts drew her attention, instinct making her tense, Starlight ready to be summoned.

A ring of steps lead into the field below. Practice dummies had been pushed to the edges of the field, leaving a space large enough for a group of Keyblade wielders to spar. Two wielders went back and forth in the center, wielding Keyblades similar to the one Mimir had. Others lined up along the side—some with their back to her, others spread along the opposite side, shouting friendly taunts and encouragement.

"Come on, kick his ass!"

"I have ten munny riding on this, come on—"

"No betting in school," someone commented mildly—an older wielder, wrinkles and scars lining their face. Their eyes never left the sparring wielders.

"You weren't supposed to hear that."

The school. Skuld's initial worries washed away, and she found herself watching with renewed interest, peering at the wielders from between the crowd. The two sparring were—were close to her age, she realized, or maybe a little older. They slipped through forms that were neater than anything she'd seen in Daybreak Town, footwork sharp and steady, strikes precise. She didn't know how it'd fair against actual Heartless, but it certainly looked professional. They're students, she thought, and felt suddenly, strangely like her title didn't fit.

Something strangely envious built in her chest. She closed her eyes, listening to the quiet ring of metal, and found herself dragged into a sort of daydream, watching herself cheer with the other students, imagining training and learning with her friends. Her nails bit into her palms, and she breathed out the envy and opened her eyes. This is…good. If they're taught like this, then maybe—maybe they won't have the same problems we had.

Someone tapped her shoulder.

Skuld started, snapping around.

Mimir offered her a tiny, awkward sort of smile. "You might not want to be so close," they signed, "unless you want someone else to see you."

She pursed her lips, glancing back at the crowd. They…had a point, she guessed, but she still felt almost reluctant to leave, something tugging her back towards the group.

Mimir cleared their throat, and when she turned back to them they hesitated, then signed, "Or did you need something?"

"No," she whispered. "I was just—" She broke off.

(She couldn't find Brain to ask about her problems—but he wasn't the only person who knew about Scala ad Caelum. And Mimir—they weren't a friend, but they'd been kind enough when she'd met them at the fountain. Maybe…)

"I was—looking for someone to ask about some things. Since I couldn't find Brain."

Mimir's eyebrows furrowed.

"About Scala," she clarified. "It's…something the council was…touchy about."

She thought for a moment that Mimir would protest, but they looked thoughtful, if slightly hesitant. They lifted their hands, hesitated, then took a deep breath and said, "I…might be able to help. But do you want to ask here?"

She hesitated a moment too long before murmuring, "No. It…probably wouldn't be a good idea."

Mimir nodded, but they studied her with an uncertain sort of look. After a beat they turned, gesturing for her to follow.

(She glanced back at the students only once, hand braced against the side of the building. One had beaten the other, finally, but both were laughing as their friends shouted in approval.

She turned sharply away before she could change her mind.)


-"What do you know about the bluebloods?"

Mimir made a thoughtful humming noise. They still looked a little awkward, but some of that disappeared as they thought, expression changing from uncertain to pensive.

Skuld waited, trying not to feel too antsy; they were tucked into a side garden somewhere, safely away from where most people would see them. Wind chimes clanked quietly overhead, hopefully obscuring at least her words, even if it might not be necessary for Mimir.

"They're Ephemer's descendants," they signed, and then looked slightly sheepish. "But I guess you already knew that." They paused with a frown. "I know they used to run everything. A lot of them still do, but it's not as big a deal anymore. The ones who aren't on the council or who aren't Keyblade wielders still have some power, but it's more a status thing than anything. Like figureheads." Their frown deepened. "They try to hold onto it pretty strongly, though."

"Are there—how many of them are there?"

Mimir shrugged. "I never counted. A lot, I think. I know Ephemer had a large family."

Skuld's hands curled into fists in her lap. "Right."

"…Are you okay?"

The words were spoken this time, quiet and worried, and she snapped towards them in surprise.

Mimir glanced aside, fumbling a little before they signed, "You looked upset. Is talking about him hard?"

"That's—" She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "A little, I guess." She debated a few moments, and then continued, quiet, "It's…weird. The last time I saw Ephemer, he was my age. But he had…he had a whole family that I never got to know, and now he's gone and the only people left don't know anything about him and—" She cut herself off and shook her head, trying to ignore the way her chest ached. "Sorry. You don't—I just wanted some answers. I shouldn't be dumping that on you."

Mimir didn't look entirely convinced.

Skuld tried to rally herself, taking an unsteady breath and pressing, "Is there—if they want to hold onto their power, what do they…do?"

Mimir watched her carefully, but after a moment they signed, "Most become Keyblade wielders. Some get on the council, if they can—they have enough influence they can usually find a way in. But it's easier to make a name for yourself as a wielder. Especially if you aren't part of the core family."

"Core family?"

"Ephemer's direct descendants. They say they're descended from his firstborn, but I don't know if that's true or not. I don't think they used to keep track of things so closely."

Skuld laughed, but it was a sad sort of thing. "No, that doesn't sound like something Ephemer would do."

Mimir was still watching her with a conflicted sort of expression. After a few hesitant moments, they lifted their hands and signed, "Tell me about him?"

Echoes of her conversation with Kvasir flitted through her mind, and she found herself stiffening. "I don't know what the stories say," she said, stiffer than she would've liked, "but I think he's probably different from what you expect." (How do you know? some part of her whispered. He grew up without you. He would've been an entirely different person by the time he founded Scala ad Caelum.)

"Stories tend to exaggerate things," Mimir signed easily. "You and Master Brain are the most reliable sources."

She chewed her lip and gave them a skeptical look.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Mimir signed. "I just thought it might help." And then they looked sheepish. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked, considering—" They broke off and made a face, like they couldn't decide how they wanted to finish.

Skuld wasn't sure, either—if they were going to protest because she was a Union Leader or because of their first mission together or both—but it might've been what finally pushed her to say, "He was a little bit of a conspiracy theorist."

They didn't look surprised; instead, their expression contorted into something exasperatedly affectionate, like they'd just heard a familiar comment about an old friend. It was familiar in a way that Skuld couldn't quite place, but it made her relax, just a little.

"He always had some crazy rumor to talk about," she found herself saying with a laugh. "Sometimes I thought he just made them up to mess with me."

("I swear, Skuld, the Foretellers are secretly ghosts—"

"Where'd you hear that?")

"It died down a little after the Keyblade War—I'm not sure if he actually expected to be right about one of his ideas." Her voice trailed off, weighted with the memory. She cleared her throat and forcibly pushed the melancholy thoughts aside. "He liked going on missions with us—me and one of our mutual friends, and the other Union Leaders, too. They were fun. Sometimes. But they got a little chaotic, too." She heard the echoes of her friends' voices, shouting tallies of, "I've beaten ten so far!" and her own responding cry, and laughed. "And competitive."

Mimir had a funny look on their face—something distant and confused, like they were lost in their own thoughts.

Suddenly Skuld felt a little sheepish. "That's probably not what you were looking to hear, huh?"

Mimir blinked, seeming to come back to themself. They made a face at her that was so much like her old friend it was almost jarring; she could read it as easily, the exasperated, You're over-thinking this, painted across their face, even if they didn't say as much. "It's honest," they signed instead. "And that wasn't the point." They hesitated, then added, "I just thought talking about him might help. That's all."

Oh. Skuld stared at them, something grateful and embarrassed welling in her chest. She blinked rapidly and looked away. "You…have people you miss, too, right?"

They gave her a surprised look.

She shrugged. "I just—if I'm talking about my friends—it felt fair. To give you the chance to talk about yours."

Their expression shifted from surprised to conflicted to grateful, then back to conflicted again. They stared at their hands, lips pressed into a thin line, and Skuld thought that they might not take her up on the offer. Then, hesitantly, they signed, "A lot of my memories are blurred, but…I can make out some details. A red scarf. A fountain. Laughing together—their voices are always kind of in the back of my head, but it's hard to hear them clearly."

Skuld tried very, very hard not to stiffen. It was just a coincidence, she knew, but 'red scarf' and 'fountain' reminded her so much of Ephemer that her chest ached. I guess that's probably why they were at the fountain, then, if they went there before.

"I think they must've left when I was pretty young," they admitted. "One of them was…one of Ephemer's descendants, I think. He looked a lot like how they describe him in the stories." They laughed, the sound quiet and shaky. "I don't think I'm a blueblood, though, so I don't know why he visited."

"Think?" Skuld repeated carefully.

Mimir hesitated. "My parents…aren't really around to ask."

Skuld winced. "I'm sorry—"

"It's fine. I don't mind."

They lapsed into silence, but it wasn't as awkward as Skuld had expected it to be. She leaned back and listened to the wind chimes, breathing out quietly and letting her thoughts slowly untangle themselves. It was grounding, in a way, and it gave her time to recollect herself before she had to go back.

"There you—oh. Master Skuld."

Skuld stiffened.

Osmin approached them with a pinched expression.

"I'm just taking a break," Skuld said, trying not to feel too defensive. "Meili said that was alright."

"I'm not actually here for you—so if you don't mind taking your break elsewhere…"

Skuld blinked, then exchanged glances with Mimir. They looked just as confused, but Skuld felt a curling sort of anxiety. She didn't think she could justifiably refuse, but it still left something bitter in her mouth. "It's fine," she said, forcing herself to look away from Mimir. "I should probably be heading back, anyway." She stood, pointedly ignoring Osmin's quiet hum. After a hesitant moment, Skuld turned back towards Mimir, and—

Paused.

She blinked rapidly. There was something about them that looked almost hazy, like smoke had rolled in to cover them. The shadows almost seemed to move behind them, creeping closer, and it felt for a moment like they were crawling up her legs and over her chest. (It felt like she was back in the lifeboat chamber, staring down her friend again, and she couldn't she couldn't she couldn't—)

She took a breath, and when she blinked again, the image was gone—but Mimir was still sitting there, looking at her with an increasingly worried expression. "I'll talk to you again sometime," she said, because she'd been staring too long and had to say something.

Mimir's eyebrows rose in surprise.

She ducked away, murmuring a hasty goodbye so she didn't have to stare at their expression any longer. But when she reached the edge of the garden she paused, glancing back.

Mimir wasn't looking after her—Osmin had drawn them into conversation, and while they looked concerned and maybe a little confused, they still looked normal, no haze or shadows involved.

Skuld shook her head with a grimace. I must've imagined it.

(The creeping feeling didn't leave—but then, she could blame it on her memories. It wasn't like they didn't haunt her, after all.)


-Skuld was more than a little relieved that Brain was already in the apartment when she arrived, working on something with a frown. The familiarity eased some of the tension out of her chest, and she sank into the couch and slumped against his shoulder with a quiet groan.

"Take it your first day didn't go so well."

"It…went." Meili had been back to business after she'd returned, but the morning still lingered between them like sour air. She scrubbed her hands over her face. "I'm tired of politics."

Brain snorted. "It's been a day."

She groaned again. "Don't remind me." She paused, thinking. "Maybe we could just sneak around the Clock Tower." It wasn't like she hadn't done that before—and this time they were at least supposed to be there.

Brain paused, one hand half-lifted. "Might not be a bad idea," he admitted. "You want to check things out tonight?"

The idea of going back swamped her with a wave of exhaustion. "Tomorrow. Sometime."

Brain hummed an acknowledgement. "Might be less suspicious in the day—but there'd be more people to see…"

Skuld smiled, despite herself, as he descended into quiet muttering. "What are you working on?" she asked, cutting him off before he could get too deep into it.

He started, then glanced at the mess in front of him—an assortment of materials and vials and papers, some of which Skuld recognized but most she didn't. "Something Sigurd said needed to be done," Brain said, sounding vaguely disgruntled. "The council wants to test something to detect Heartless in the city."

"Is that a problem?" Skuld asked, straightening immediately.

"Sometimes. Scala has a lot of wards to keep them away, but they aren't perfect." He sighed. "It's not a bad idea—it's just going to take up a lot of time."

Skuld gave him a sympathetic look. "You'll figure it out."

"Mm." He poked her gently. "So. You going to tell me about your first day, or are you just going to try and melt into the couch?"

"Is melting into the couch an option?" she asked weakly. After a moment she relented with a sigh. "So I learned something about Ephemer's descendants today…"


Kvasir, buddy, you mean well, but we really need to take a look at your internal biases and situational awareness.