What does it mean to be a legend?

Trigger warning: Mind the 'trauma' part of the content warnings for this chapter; Skuld has a panic attack at the beginning of this chapter. Skip to the first scene break if you aren't sure you're in a good place to read that.


Chapter Two: Never Meet Your Heroes

Darkness had a weight to it, Skuld had discovered. It settled across her shoulders like a heavy cloak, dripping ink trails down her skin, trailing behind her and catching against the ground. It clung tightly to her arms and legs as she stumbled through shadows, wrapping around her chest and face so tightly she had difficulty breathing.

There was something in the darkness with her. She didn't entirely know what it was, but she could hear it breathing, hurried, unburdened footsteps making a wet tap-tap-tapping sound. Starlight sparked at her fingertips, begging to be summoned, but there was something in her that whispered, Not yet. Not yet.

"Ephemer?" she called, and the words fell deadened in front of her face. "Brain?"

Something flashed in the darkness, bright for a single second, and she snapped towards it.

"Lauriam?" The word came out a little more desperate. "Ven?"

Another flash.

She moved towards it, despite everything screaming at her that she shouldn't, shadows snapping taunt around her ankles. "Where are you?"

Another flash, and a whoosh of air, and she just had time to recognize that a Keyblade was coming towards her before it hit her side, sending her sprawling. Training kicked in, and her hand shot up reflexively, and—

Starlight didn't come.

Fear coiled in her chest and curled around her throat. She scrambled to her feet, reaching deep inside her, trying desperately to find the place where her Keyblade rested.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Footsteps made their way toward her, and she froze, eyes traveling up, up, until—

She knew them.

Staring at them made her feel like she was seeing static. She kept thinking about sitting with them and Ephemer at the fountain, or about sneaking into the Clock Tower with them, or about going on missions or laughing together or just spending time with each other. It made it hard for her to look at the stranger in her friend's body.

Their Keyblade flicked, and her eyes snapped towards it, catching the glimmer of something red on the edge.

(They'd been—they'd been in the lifeboat chamber. In the data Daybreak Town. That's right. She and Ephemer and their friend had stayed behind, but then Darkness had appeared, and—)

"Where's Ephemer?"

Her friend's lips curled slowly into a cruel smirk that didn't look quite right on their face.

Her ribs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves, and she found energy she didn't know she had, moving closer and snarling, "What did you do with him?"

The Keyblade flashed. Skuld dodged it this time, stumbling out of range. (Don't think about the fact that you can't summon yours, don't think about who you're fighting, don't think about what's happening outside, just—)

"You wouldn't really hurt your friend, would you?"

She froze.

Her friend—Darkness, Darkness, that's right, they'd taken over their body—tilted their head. "Anything you do to me will hurt them. Are they really worth the risk?"

"…uld…"

"Are you willing to kill them to protect the rest of your friends?"

"…kuld…"

(she couldn't breathe couldn't breathe couldn't breathe)

"Well? Can you bear the burden, Union Leader?"

"Skuld!"

Skuld whipped around, Keyblade—

Still not there. Sparks flickered at her fingertips and her heart was in her throat, pounding too hard, and she stumbled backwards and collided with something and panicked because where was she what was going on she was supposed to be fighting—

"Skuld!"

Brain. He was here, he was here, why was he here, did he come back for them—

"We need to go."

Brain stared at her with a lost expression, hands lifted like he was trying to calm her down but wasn't sure how. "What?"

"We need to go. There's—Darkness—we need to get out here now."

"Skuld, we're not—"

"Where's Ephemer? Did you see—we need to go, we need to go—"

Her hands fisted in Brain's sleeve as she tried to drag him—

And then he caught her—gently, but enough that it forced her to stop. "We're in Scala ad Caelum. Not Daybreak Town."

What? It made her pause, if only briefly, and it dawned on her that she didn't recognize the room she was in: a small little apartment that reminded her of the ones in Daybreak Town before someone moved in, stripped of personal items. But this wasn't the lifeboat chamber, and Brain was here, and—and she didn't know what was going on—

"Skuld, just—shit. Alright. Can you focus on me?"

"Brain, where's—what—"

"It's okay. Just—just look at me. Okay? We're okay."

"We're not, we're—" (where were they where was Darkness why hadn't they attacked yet) "The world ended."

"It did. But we got out. We're not there anymore. Skuld, I need you to—" Brain broke off, and his face contorted into something conflicted and she didn't understand why. "Copy me. Alright?"

She wanted to respond, but she was shaking and it felt like something had clogged her throat, so she just stared at him, hands wrapped tightly around his arms like they were the only things keeping her upright.

Brain breathed in slowly and held it.

(what was he doing what was he doing they needed to get—

…out…

…right?)

His breath left in a rush. "Copy me," he repeated. "It's going to be okay, just follow my lead." And then he breathed in again, and even if Skuld didn't entirely understand why she breathed in anyways, shaky and uncertain, and tried to put together why his expression looked so relieved.

Skuld's racing heart slowed, and they just stood there in the apartment's living room, her breathing easing as she followed Brain's. It came back to her, in bits and pieces: escaping Daybreak Town. Arriving here. The council. This was—this was Brain's apartment. In Scala ad Caelum. Which used to be Daybreak Town. Right. No one was going to hurt them.

(Then why couldn't she stop shaking?)

The realization must've shown on her face, because Brain let out a long, relieved breath that descended into half-hysterical laughter. "Not sure I'm qualified for this," he breathed, resting his forehead against hers, the energy seeming to drain out of him.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He pulled away, his hands shaking just a little. "Nightmare?"

She didn't know why that made her break, but all of a sudden she was choking on a sob, eyes burning.

"Shit." Hands guided her over to the couch and then hovered there, like Brain wasn't sure if he should do something or not.

"I'm sorry, it's not—it's not your fault. It's just—"

"A lot," he finished, quiet. "Yeah."

Skuld scrubbed her eyes and ran her hands through her hair, sucking in a shaky breath. It came out as an unsteady laugh. "I don't think I'm going to get much more sleep tonight."

"Doesn't sound that different from normal."

Brain still had that conflicted expression on his face, like he wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say or not. It bothered her in a way she couldn't quite place, and she found herself asking, "Did you—when you first got here. Did anyone…?"

Brain's eyes grew shadowed, and he looked away, silent for long enough that she wasn't sure he'd answer. "I kept myself busy."

Something tightened in her throat. "Right."

For a few moments, the two of them sat there in silence. Skuld absently toed at the blankets left on the floor—gathered last night, because neither of them had been quite up to leaving each other or talking about what had happened and just kind of needed to be.

(If she was acutely aware of the missing people around her—well, she wasn't going to say anything.)

Skuld took another breath, and this time it felt a little more controlled. "You're going to have to tell me about it," she said, and she couldn't quite get her voice to lighten but it at least sounded less broken. "Everything you've been up to."

Brain huffed a laugh. "Well, I guess we've got time."

"I—you don't have to stay up, you know. Just because I can't sleep…"

He gave her a deadpan look.

"…Right."

Her skin still itched. Her legs were still jittery. She found herself glancing towards the window—still dark outside, but with the faintest flickers of light, as if the world were slowly waking up for the day. She tried to swallow down her anxieties and asked, "Can we walk and talk?" When she felt Brain staring at her, she continued, "I want to—I should know what this place is like, right? And it might be fun to explore."

Her words sounded flat, and she knew Brain probably knew something was wrong, but he didn't press her on it. "Okay."


-Mornings in Scala ad Caelum were quiet. Brain wasn't sure if he liked that better or not; it meant there were no performers or questions or stares, but it also made the city feel dead in a way that he didn't like.

Well, he thought, I suppose at least I'm not alone this time.

Skuld kept pace with him, head twisting like she was trying to take in everything at once. Her eyes were dry now, but her expression was steeled, and Brain was acutely aware of the fact that this was likely more a distraction than in was anything else. He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to ignore their shaking.

"It's quiet," Skuld murmured. Her voice was hushed, but it still seemed too loud in the silence.

"It's early."

"…It reminds me of Daybreak Town."

Brain winced. "Little different than Daybreak Town. Got a Clock Tower and a fountain, but the rest's changed. It's separated into Quarters—the Breezy Quarter's the one you ended up in. Lot of residential stuff and gardens."

Skuld nodded, but her face still had the stony expression on it, and it made something clench tightly in Brain's chest.

"The Clock Tower's the center," he said, and then thought maybe he shouldn't have, but he needed to do something to fill the silence so he kept going, "and the Quarters are separated into sections around it. Four of them, like the name. The Ocean Quarter's what we're in—it's for trade, mostly. Sun Quarter's up north; a lot of big shops and industrial work. Moon Quarter is—well, it's mostly about magic and research."

He trailed away. He wasn't sure if this was doing anything; it made him feel like he was rambling to a ghost, not a friend, and he half-worried that maybe she was still too lost in her own head for this to matter. (I want to show you this, some part of him whispered. I want you to know what I've seen.)

"Well," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly and glancing around. His eyes caught a familiar café and he nodded to it. "They're open early. Not a lot of people visit, but they have decent coffee." His eyes flicked ahead. "Sometimes people will set up stalls along that street—things that they pick up off-world, mostly. Ahead of that's the library—"

"So that's where you live, huh?"

He huffed a laugh, breaking into a relieved smile at her tiny grin, and tried to ignore how tired she sounded. "Only half the time."

"And the other half's back there." She pointed back towards the café.

"Are you just going to bully me the whole time?"

"You missed it."

I did. He swallowed back the reply. (He'd missed all of them—Lauriam's worrying and Ven's questions and Ephemer's sometimes crazy plans. One's back. One's back, and that's going to have to be enough.) "I give it a day before you end up spending all your time there." He gestured back towards the currently-empty stalls.

"…They really made it off-world?"

Skuld's voice sounded wistful, and Brain was hit with the stark reminder that there was still so much about this time she didn't know. "Yeah. So will you, probably. Keyblade wielders—well, it's kind of our job anymore to keep the worlds safe."

"That was supposed to be our job, anyways."

"It was."

They fell silent again, awkward in a way it hadn't been in a long time. He watched his friend a moment—the pensive expression, shadowed eyes—and then sighed and took the lead. "Come on."

"What—Brain!" Hurried footsteps caught up with him.

"It's your first time here. Figure you should probably get the tour, right?" He glanced back and quirked an eyebrow. "Anywhere in particular you want to see?"

Skuld looked a little thrown, but she rallied quickly. "I—everything. Anything. I don't know, I just—want to know what this place is like."

Brain allowed himself a small smile. "Then I've got an idea." He headed off, waving for her to follow.

Scala's streets weren't quite as familiar as Daybreak Town's were—it would take a long time for them to stop feeling foreign, he supposed—but he'd still made a point to memorize them, wandering between the buildings and exploring every nook and cranny whenever he was on-world.

(The first couple of days he'd been here he hadn't spent a moment in his apartment; he'd gone out into the streets, walking until he'd collapsed, trying to get a map of where he was and making note of anything that seemed important. Sigurd had found him eventually, and forced him to remember that he needed to do things like eat and talk to the council.)

"I think I convinced people I was a ghost."

He mumbled the words mostly to himself, lost in his own memories, but Skuld had apparently heard them anyways, because she gave him a funny look.

"When I first got here," he clarified. "Nobody knew about me right away. Spent most of my time exploring. Think I scared a couple of people."

Skuld's expression changed to something between amusement and exasperation. "I guess this place probably is a little haunted," she said, and Brain had half a moment to wonder if maybe he shouldn't have said anything before she continued, "but I don't think you're supposed to make it worse."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Half of them are Ephemer's descendants; I'm sure they looked into things pretty quickly."

"That's worse." But Skuld's smile was broadening, something a little brighter entering her eyes. "There are going to be rumors about you forever."

"It'll keep them occupied."

"Or get them into trouble." Skuld laughed. "Ephemer would've gone looking. You know he would've."

"Suppose I should've kept it going, then. As a favor to his family."

"No."

She was grinning now, laughter in her voice, and Brain found himself finally, finally relaxing. "You haven't even asked about any of this." He gestured. "Thought you wanted to explore?"

"You distracted me!" She shoved him lightly. "Alright. What did you find while you were terrorizing people?"

He snorted, then waved broadly around them. "Scala's pretty big. Or at least, the main island is."

"Main island?"

"Mm-hm. You'll see in a moment."

Skuld looked confused only until they stepped out from between the buildings. Brain suppressed his grin at her surprised gasp, then leaned away as she hurried past him, hands braced against the railing to get a good look at the ocean.

Countless islands dotted the water. Dawn was still just starting to creep over the horizon, but the morning was clear enough to see their jagged, abandoned edges. Looking at them made Brain feel a little strange, like he should be grieving something but couldn't, because for all that he was supposed to be a part of history he wasn't a part of this history, specifically. "They're empty," he explained, quickly, quietly, because he wasn't sure he wanted to dwell on it. "And they're not the exciting part, anyways."

(That was a lie. There was a part of him that was desperate to explore the abandoned islands and find out why no one was there anymore—but he had more important things to focus on.)

"Look." He nodded down the street, and Skuld gave him a curious look, then followed his eyes.

The Marketplace, in some ways, wasn't all that different from Daybreak Town's—stalls set up all along the streets, vendors ready to sell their wares the moment the city woke up, the stands filled with food and trinkets. It wasn't even all that different in content, off-world items mixed with hand-made crafts and tiny trinkets. The location made it stand out; the stalls sprawled across the street and crowded right up near the rails, running all the way down to the pier.

He felt Skuld hesitate beside him. "That's—"

"Remember how I said there were places that sold items from off-world?"

"Here, too?"

"Yep." He flashed her a grin. "Want to explore?"

"There's no one here."

"Pretty sure they won't mind, so long as we don't steal anything."

That seemed to be enough for Skuld; she shot off, hurrying ahead of him, eyes brightening slowly as she twisted to get a better look at things. Brain trailed after her; he knew most of what was here, after all. That's new, I suppose, he thought, glancing at a collection of charms that hadn't been here the other day. Skuld wandered through the stalls, pointing and mumbling to herself, eyes brightening a little when she apparently recognized items from the worlds that they knew. "These are all from other worlds?"

"Not all. But some. Some stuff's made here in Scala. Tourist stuff, kind of. Or stuff for kids."

She picked up a pinwheel, smiling as she watched it spin. "Brain, this is—this is amazing."

"Figured you'd like it." Or, at least, he'd hoped. (He'd had a lot of time to think, when he'd been on his own, of the places he'd show his friends if he had the chance. He'd wanted to show Lauriam the gardens—not the big, open places, but the ones hidden out behind the second-hand bookshop that the owner maintained. He'd wanted to show Ven the observatory—technically off-limits to anyone who wasn't part of the council, but they were both Union Leaders, and besides, it was the best place to see the stars. Ephemer—

He tried not to think about Ephemer.)

"Off-world travel's a big thing with Scala," he continued. "Not a lot here but fish and Keyblade wielders."

Skuld snorted.

"Trade's a big thing—lots of people coming to and from. This place is pretty vibrant during the day; we'll have to come back later so you can see."

"Other people come here, too?"

"Mm-hm. There are some regulations," and a lot of paperwork, "but yeah. Usually by ship—Keyblade wielders can open portals, but most people can't, so they had to figure out other ways to get around. Don't know all the specifics, but I guess a couple of people off-world found the materials…" He trailed off when he realized he'd started to ramble, but Skuld was smiling, even if there was something a little sad about it. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just—" She took a deep breath and let it out. "We made it. Keyblade wielders, I mean. We really—we weren't the last."

Something tightened in his chest. "Yeah. We weren't."

Skuld glanced at the pinwheel in her hand, then gently replaced it. "I'm guessing you've been helping out with a lot of this, huh?"

"Some. Most of my stuff's—" In the Clock Tower.

"…Brain?"

"I—"

(He'd barely lived in his apartment. Most of his nights, if he wasn't off-world, were spent in a rebuilt Clock Tower, trying to eke out some semblance of normalcy and ignoring the ache in his chest because this was the closest he could get to home. He had countless projects; he couldn't remember half of them.)

"Nothing. Come on, there's a lot more to see."

Skuld frowned, but she didn't press, and Brain considered that a small mercy.


-Brain seemed to step into his role as tour guide surprisingly easily, once he'd actually gotten started. It helped to push the bad memories away, a little; it made it easier for Skuld to see this as something exciting, rather than something that felt like it was going to crush her.

(It wasn't foolproof; there were still so many echoes of Daybreak Town, flashes of purple and flickers of gardens, a shock of white hair appearing in a window or on the street. Skuld found herself looking away too quickly, stuffing down her grief somewhere she didn't have to examine it.)

"There's a couple second-hand shops that way." Brain gestured down the street. "Not as well known. Makes it easier to get in and out, if you need something."

But—

"That's what you've said about every place you've shown me."

"Not my fault this place is crowded."

"You're ridiculous," she said with a quiet laugh.

"You'll thank me for it later."

She was still thinking about the way he'd cut himself off before, when he'd started talking about his projects. The way he'd gone quiet and sank into himself, expression so shadowed it was jarring. It had only gotten worse as more people had started spilling into the streets, his shoulders going tense, his smile a little more strained.

(If she were being honest, though, she wasn't much better; she had almost forgotten what it was like to live in a place that wasn't built for children, forcing herself not to stare as people years older than her stepped into the muddy morning light.)

(Are any of them related to Ephemer?)

"We should—we should pick up some things." She was almost proud at how steady her voice was. "You're apartment's so empty."

There it was again: that stiff, carefully guarded expression, like he was sinking back into himself. "Yeah," he agreed. "Suppose that's not a bad idea."

Skuld sighed and poked him. "Brain."

"Hmm?"

She poked him again. "Tell me what's wrong."

He batted her hand away. "Nothing."

"Brain." She poked him a little harder.

"Stop that."

"Nope."

"Nothing's wrong."

"You're lying." She poked him again, and again, using it to emphasize her words. "I know you. You're upset about something."

"Will you—stop." He caught her hands, looking vaguely exasperated.

She flashed him a crooked smile. "Tired of me yet?"

"No," he said, but something strangely complicated flashed across his face. He released her, hand lifting to pull down his hat. "Got one of my friends here. Why would anything be wrong with that?" He turned, hurrying on before she could press him. "You want to see the gardens?"

"Brain, come on." She hurried after him, trying to ignore the looks people flashed their way.

"I promise, Skuld, nothing's—"

He cut off. His shoulders went stiff, back straight, and Skuld was immediately on guard, Starlight humming at her fingertips, instinct honed from their time working together. "Brain?"

"We should go somewhere else."

"What?"

She had to step around him to see what he saw; she was only barely conscious of the fact that he'd tried to step in front of her, a vague noise of protest in his throat, because most of her was focused on trying to assess whatever had put him on-edge.

What she saw…wasn't a threat. At least, not in theory. It looked a little like a street performance, a couple people dressed up in colorful costumes, make-shift sets set up behind them, a small, excited crowd cooing at whatever the performers were doing. She didn't entirely register what she was seeing at first, but then she realized that the colorful set pieces reminded her of quiet mornings and Dandelions and relaxing with friends after missions—

It's Daybreak Town.

She blinked, slightly off-kilter at the realization. She remembered, somewhere, that Brain had said something about them being 'a thing' here, but she hadn't entirely realized—

"I'm looking for my friend."

It took a much, much longer moment for her to realize that she knew this story—or at least, she knew it in part. She'd lived it, after all.

(She was standing in the Clock Tower; it might have become home in the future, but it was still foreign then, as dangerous as the Foreteller standing across from them.)

There were still three people, but one of them was wrong; the scarf had to represent Ephemer, but he wasn't there, and he certainly hadn't been standing with the Foreteller, a cheeky grin on his face.

(This isn't right. This isn't how the story went.)

One of them, she thought with a jolt, was probably supposed to be her. It almost looked right, except she seemed older, the clothes just slightly off, straight-backed and fearless. "They spoke to me in a dream. They said that you had taken them."

"A dream?" The Ephemer-figure spoke, not the Foreteller, and Skuld's nails dug into her palms. "That doesn't seem like a good source of information."

(She'd been scared, when she'd realized they might be facing a Foreteller. Scared, but angry, deep and bitter enough that it had almost helped her ignore everything else.)

"Skuld." That's Brain, something in the back of her mind said, but she barely registered it through the white noise. "Are you—"

"What are you doing?"

She didn't think anyone heard her, at first; only a couple of people glanced back, stragglers at the edge of the crowd, and it made something inexplicably angry well in her chest. That angry thing carried her forward, and she repeated, a little louder, "What are you doing?"

The crowd quieted, but slowly. The performers didn't seem to realize what was going on at first; their words fell away slowly, theatrical motions coming to jerky, unpracticed halts, props dropping like they'd lost their magic now that they weren't in use. "Are you…talking to us?" one of them tried finally, flashing her a confused grin.

"Why are you—" (That's Daybreak Town. That's us. That's us, that's us, who gave you the right—) "What is this?"

She didn't realize she was shaking until a hand landed on her shoulder. Didn't realize just how quiet it had gotten, either, confused eyes now suddenly focused on Brain, whispers turning almost excitable.

She didn't understand that, either. More importantly— "You know what this is."

She couldn't read his expression. It tempered the anger with something a little more worried, because maybe she wouldn't have been able to understand him once, but she'd caught onto his quirks and tells after they became Union Leaders. He swept his gaze away from her, out across the crowd, and she said, halfway desperate, "Brain."

The eyes were back on her, now; the whispers were muted, mostly, but she caught some of them:

"Who's that?"

"Why's she with Master Brain?"

"Hey, isn't that the girl that fell out of the sky?"

She heard Brain's breath catch on that one, and she wondered, startled, Is he…scared?

"Sk—" He cut himself off, expression twisted, and she had a brief moment of relief and confusion, because at least she still caught that but she didn't know why he was worried— "We should go somewhere else."

The words were weighted a little heavier. She wanted to argue, but the words died on her tongue.

"Excuse me. Excuse me, Master Brain, and—and I don't believe I caught your name?"

The speaker was one of the performers—the lead, she thought, and she glanced at the scarf then sharply to his face. She tried very, very hard not to look at the person dressed as her. After a hesitant moment she looked towards Brain.

There was something conflicted in his expression, but he looked away from her quickly when he noticed her watching.

She flexed her fists. "You first," she said, because even if there was a frustrated part of her that whispered, It's my name, I should get to say it, Brain had cut himself off for a reason, and she wanted to know why.

"Ah, right, forgive me. My name is Lodur. I'm a storykeeper."

"Storykeeper?"

"Recorder and performer of our city's history, from the times before the world existed to now."

"Including Daybreak Town."

"You've heard of it! I apologize, but when you asked—well, I assumed. But yes, Daybreak Town, and Master Ephemer, and the other Heroes who lived with him."

Skuld knew that she should, probably, be looking at Lodur. Instead she found herself staring at Brain.

He wouldn't quite meet her gaze. "Like I said," he murmured, "it's a thing for people here."

The whispers were growing louder. It made her feel antsy and vulnerable. "Where'd you hear this one?"

"I—well, it's been passed down. Starting with Master Ephemer himself, I believe."

That stung more than she thought it would. (This story isn't yours to tell. Ephemer, why did you…?)

She bit her lip so hard it bled, forcing back the angry words. They don't know, they don't know, they don't know—

Brain nudged her.

She couldn't be here anymore. "You were right. We should've gone somewhere else." He didn't have time to react before she'd grabbed his arm, dragging him back through the crowd.

"Wait! Wait, you never actually told—oh, never mind."


-"I'm sorry."

The library was quiet, thankfully. It meant Skuld didn't have to worry about prying eyes or ears as she paged through the book of legends. "Don't be," she said, even though there was a part of her that was still angry. "I don't—it's not like you asked for it."

"Should've warned you, though."

Maybe. But— "I'm not really angry at you, anyways. Or—I don't know. I'm just—"

(It felt hard to put into words; it was a little like someone had reached inside her and picked apart her heart, pulling out the fragile bits and putting them on display. The wounds felt raw, torn open again by careless hands, and she knew nobody had meant anything by it on some level, but—but damn it, it felt like those weren't their stories to tell.)

"Are you going to be alright?"

She stared at the book of legends—she'd caught her name a few times, and it had made her stomach flip, queasy. Her fingers brushed across annotations, the familiar penmanship making her heart squeeze. "Are you? You've been dealing with it longer."

Brain laughed, and it sounded bitter. "I've learned how to tune it out."

"Brain. Be honest with me. Please." When he looked at her, she continued, "You stopped yourself from saying my name out there."

He stared at her for several long, long moments, and she almost worried he might double-down on the lie. Then he sighed, shoulders sinking, and settled beside her. "Thought maybe I could spare you from it for a bit. Figured everyone would freak out if they knew two Union Leaders were here."

It felt like there was more to it than that, but she didn't know how to ask what it was—didn't even know if Brain would know.

"It gets old," Brain admitted finally. "Especially—"

"…Especially?" she prompted when he cut himself off.

He worked his jaw. "It's—we're legends here. The people of Scala ad Caelum respect us. The council—"

"There you are."

Brain's mouth snapped shut.

Skuld almost yelled. Instead she turned and gave the intruder a tight-lipped smile, fingers tightening around the edges of the book.

Sigurd hurried towards them; she couldn't see his face, but by the way he was moving, he seemed frazzled. "I was wondering where you went. The council thought you ran off."

"Where would I go?" Skuld snapped, still on-edge, and it took her a moment to realize that words had been directed at Brain.

"There are certainly a lot of worlds," Sigurd answered, sounding tired.

"I've always come back, haven't I?" Brain flashed him a too-sharp smile, brittle and fake.

"Yes, well." Sigurd didn't seem like he knew what he was supposed to do with that, brushing invisible dust off his robes. "You were both supposed to be at the council meeting this morning."

The reminder made Skuld stiffen. Right. They were going to explain more of what I was supposed to be doing. With everything— "I'm sorry," she said, anger exchanged for the moment with guilt. "I wanted to explore. I guess we just—we lost track of time."

Sigurd sighed, his shoulders sinking with the sound. "I suppose it can't be helped," he said, though he sounded tired. "Master Frigga is waiting for you in the gardens. She would still like to help you get started, if you're willing to meet her."

Talking to her would be—good, probably. It might help her get answers to her questions—and give her something else to think about. The book snapped shut. "Show me the way?"

Brain stood beside her, but his movements were stiff, expression guarded.

"Master Brain," Sigurd said, stepping in front of him, and he sounded apologetic, "Master Skuld was the only one requested."

Brain quirked an eyebrow, but Skuld still caught the way he went still. "Well, it's not like I'm doing anything else."

"You offered to explore that new world yesterday, didn't you? I understand that you were distracted by your friend appearing, but that still needs to get done."

"It can wait."

"I can go with him," Skuld added quickly, glancing between the two of them and trying to figure out what this argument was really about. "If it's okay to wait."

Brain's expression turned relieved.

She still couldn't see Sigurd's expression, but she thought it might've been gently exasperated, if his voice was anything to go by. "I suppose that's alright," he said, "but Master Frigga really did insist you were the only one to come."

Skuld tried not to fidget. She couldn't see a reason it was a big deal, but there was still so much about this that put her on-edge, and she hesitated.

Brain was still stiff, but he flashed a sharp, tight smile. "Well. Guess that means you shouldn't keep her waiting, huh?"

"Brain—"

"It's fine. I'll see you later, alright?"

"Wait—Brain." She stepped closer, pushing up the hat he'd tried to pull down, but staring at him, she discovered she didn't really have the words. She wanted to ask what was wrong or what happened or why this seemed to bother him so much, but all that came out was—

"I just saw you yesterday."

It felt like such a stupid thing to say, but she didn't know how else she was supposed to word it; the feeling that her friend had changed irrevocably within the span of a moment.

Something in Brain's expression broke a little, and it almost made her crumple with relief. "The council," he said, quick, hushed, "will want to use your status as a Union Leader to their advantage. They've tried it with me. Just—be careful."

Skuld's eyebrows furrowed, but she nodded anyways, unsure what else she was supposed to do.

Brain nudged her a little, and she hesitated only a moment before following Sigurd.

(She still looked back after they left; Brain hadn't stopped watching them, no matter how hard it looked like he'd tried to contain his worry.)


-Brain's words played on loop through Skuld's mind, turning circles and making her fidget as they walked. (Though she supposed they weren't the only thing; she felt strangely exposed now that she knew about the legends, and she forced herself to stand tall and not flinch away when people glanced towards her.)

"How many people…know?"

"About you?" Sigurd guessed, but he started in a way that suggested he hadn't expected her to talk to him.

Skuld nodded.

"Well, lots of people know that someone showed up unexpectedly—plenty saw you appear, after all, and word travels. But the knowledge of who you are has currently been kept to the council and blue bloods."

"Blue bloods…?"

"Master Ephemer's descendants."

Skuld's throat tightened. "Like Kvasir."

"And Master Frigga and many others." Sigurd's voice softened, and there was something almost sympathetic in it as he continued, "I imagine it must be a lot to take in."

"Yeah." She took a breath, then took a chance and asked, "What's Frigga like?"

"Master Frigga," Sigurd said, "is…very dedicated. She's been leader for longer than I've been alive." He hesitated. "She and Master Brain…don't always see eye to eye, but she's always had Scala's best interests at heart. They both do." Quieter, he muttered, "It'd be so much easier if they weren't both so thick-headed."

Despite herself, Skuld found herself smiling sympathetically. "That sounds like him."

"I promise she's not as bad as he's making her out to be," Sigurd said, but he seemed like he was relaxing, even if just a little.

Frigga was waiting right where Sigurd said she'd be—sitting on a bench in one of the gardens, speaking quietly to someone Skuld didn't recognize.

She didn't realize she'd slowed to a stop, hesitant, until Sigurd passed her and cleared his throat. "Master Frigga."

She didn't respond right away; she nodded to her conversation partner, finishing up something that Skuld couldn't quite hear. The stranger glanced at her, eyebrows furrowed; she wondered what they'd think if they knew who she was and turned sharply away.

Frigga turned towards them finally. She didn't look much like Ephemer, the features too diluted with the passing generations, but when she smiled it kicked at something in the back of Skuld's mind and made her chest tighten. "Master Skuld. It's wonderful to see you." She glanced aside. "Thank you, Sigurd."

Sigurd apparently took the dismissal for what it was, slipping away with half a bow.

Skuld thought she should say something, probably. She didn't know what it was.

(This woman was descended from Ephemer. She was older than him—or at least, older than the version of him in Skuld's memories.

…These people were all of her friend that she had left.)

The silence went on just long enough to start to feel awkward. "How are you settling in?" Frigga prompted gently.

Skuld started. "I—fine. Brain was showing me around. Earlier."

"It must be relieving to have a familiar face. Though I hope that sharing a small apartment doesn't make you feel too cramped. We'll work out proper arrangements soon enough."

"That's okay," she said, and tried to ignore the way the idea made her panic. "I don't mind."

Frigga smiled again, and there was something surprisingly warm in her eyes. She doesn't seem bad, she thought, but then she thought of Brain, wary and panicked, and it put her on-edge again.

"Walk with me," Frigga said, and it might've been framed like a request but it sounded like a command. Skuld hurried after her, trailing through the gardens.

"The council is dying to induct you officially," Frigga said, nodding to someone as they passed, smiling a little as it seemed to dawn on them who they were interacting with. They barely noticed Skuld; she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. "But I wanted to take some time to speak to you first. Explain what you'll be doing."

"Like you did with Brain," Skuld hedged, skin prickling.

"Regrettably I didn't have time to do this for Master Brain—not least of which because he ran off before I had the chance."

Skuld swallowed tightly. "Yeah," she murmured. "That sounds about right."

(Except it didn't; if Brain hadn't basically told her the same thing this morning, she might not have believed it.)

"Each member of the council has an important role. While we function as a unit to make major decisions regarding the city, each person has individual parts they supervise. Trade and inter-world relations. Finances. Infrastructure. The training of Keyblade wielders."

Skuld's breath caught.

Frigga gave her a knowing look. "We have a school," she said. "Teachers. A training regime, to keep them safe until they're ready to go off-world. Supervised, of course."

"It all seems so…" Different. Amazing. Something she'd barely been able to imagine, when she was a Union Leader. "That all started with Ephemer?"

"It started with him, yes. But it was refined over the years. The Scala we know now is an amalgamation of everything that he and his descendants have built." A touch of pride entered her voice, but Skuld almost didn't notice it with the way her throat tightened.

"I want to see it."

"See…?"

"The school."

Something shifted in Frigga's expression, but Skuld couldn't quite place what it was. "Maybe some other time," she said. "There's a lot we have to cover."

"I—" She took a breath, then swallowed back the words. I can always find it later, she reasoned. Or make Brain show me.

Frigga led them away from the gardens and towards—

Towards the Clock Tower.

She'd only gotten a brief look at it yesterday; now she slowed, taking the time to scan its features. It looked different than the one in Daybreak Town, but she could still see traces of the familiar structure in its weathered surfaces. It made something in her chest ache, and she had to look away quickly, blinking back tears.

If Frigga noticed, she didn't say anything; in fact, she stayed strangely quiet as they walked, and Skuld tried not to feel too put-off by it. She's one of Ephemer's descendants, she thought, fixing her attention on the back of Frigga's head. If nothing else, then—maybe I can get to know her. Maybe I can figure out what at least one of them's like.

"You—"

"You knew Master Ephemer personally, didn't you?"

Skuld started.

Frigga wasn't looking at her, her eyes trained ahead as they entered the building, warm hallways contrasting with the shadows across her eyes.

"Yeah," Skuld said finally. "I was—you're his descendant, right?" She stumbled over the word a little and cleared her throat, trying to steady herself.

"I am. But it's different to hear about him through legends versus from someone who knew him during his life."

"I didn't know him when he got older," Skuld pointed out, and something like grief clogged her throat. "Just when we were both Union Leaders."

"Don't the stories say you met before that?"

She thought of the performance in the streets, and it stoked that angry thing in her chest. "We did," she said, and for as much as she tried to contain her anger she couldn't quite do it. "But the stories didn't get it right. Ephemer was the one who disappeared, and he was the one who asked me to come looking for him."

"How?"

"With the Unchained state." The question came too quick, and it made Skuld's skin prickle uncomfortably; it felt, almost, like she was being interrogated.

(The council will want to use your status as a Union Leader to their benefit.)

"And it wasn't just me. We had a friend—they were Ephemer's friend, first, but he talked to both of us and asked us to come find him. We became friends afterward."

"The one the two of you went back to the Keyblade War for?"

She stiffened. "Yes."

(She tried not to think of them in their last moments, possessed by Darkness, making her wonder if the sacrifice had been worth it at all.)

"It's certainly an inspiring story—"

"It isn't yours to tell." Skuld took a deep breath, trying to ignore the ghosts that hovered behind her shoulders. "Aren't you supposed to explain what I'm going to be doing here? Since I'll be…living here, now."

She'd expected Frigga to be offended in some manner. Instead, she was smiling, almost in wonderment. "…You're truly her."

Skuld tried not to bristle defensively. "Of course I am."

Frigga didn't seem put off by her response; if anything, she seemed relieved. "Well, there are certainly many people who would like to claim relationship with the Union Leaders—let alone claim to be one of the missing ones. Master Brain had his work cut out for him, proving his identity."

Why didn't him vouching for me mean anything, then? "And that's why you kept asking me those questions?"
"Of course," she said, but there was something just slightly off about her voice, and she couldn't quite tell what it was. Then: "Come with me. There's much to show you."

She turned without waiting for Skuld to respond, and Skuld was left to scurry after her, trying not to grind her teeth.

"I brought you here," Frigga continued, "because the Clock Tower is mostly our base of operations."

(It felt jarringly familiar, and for a moment, the whole world shifted, unfamiliar golden hallways exchanged for muted purples and stained glass windows, the echoes of her friends' voices coming to her in the distance.)

"Keyblade wielders and council members both train here, but there is more than that. Offices for discussions about trade and societal improvement. A library and laboratory for research. And important artifacts, kept from the Age of Fairytales—your time, that is."

(Fairytales made her feel as off-kilter as the being in the Clock Tower did. What happened—our lives aren't fairytales, she thought, but some part of her whispered, But that's all they are to them.)

It took a long moment for Skuld to realize they'd stopped in front of a door she didn't recognize. She blinked, eyebrows furrowed, and stared at the strangely-intricate carvings and gigantic lock. "That isn't going to keep out Keyblade wielders," she pointed out absently.

Frigga gave her a small smile. "Most locks won't," she agreed, "but with the right magic, you can tailor them to only allow access with certain keys." She lifted her hand, light flickering around her palm—

And a very familiar Keyblade appeared.

The last time she'd seen this Keyblade, Brain had been handing it off to Ephemer, still bright and relatively unscathed. Now it looked worn with age, metal duller, scuffs and scratches along the hilt and shaft.

Frigga had already unlocked the door with it when Skuld finally got her voice to work again: "Why…do you have Masters' Defender?"

Frigga glanced at the Keyblade. Her thumb ran along the handle, and she smiled like she was looking at an old friend. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you recognized it—Master Brain did, too."

"Of course he did. It's his."

Frigga's eyes flicked towards her. The older woman remained quiet, expression carefully controlled, but Skuld still caught the brief flash of what looked like surprise.

"You…didn't know," she realized slowly.

Frigga didn't say anything at first. Her hold on Masters' Defender had turned a little stiff, and after a second she dismissed it. "This Keyblade has been passed down through my family for generations—starting all the way back with Master Ephemer."

"Brain gave it to him," Skuld said, feeling something almost defensive well in her throat—enough that she didn't mind so much that she had apparently cut the older master off. "When Daybreak Town fell."

"Master Skuld—"

"I'm not remembering wrong. This was—this happened yesterday. For me."

"I didn't say that you were."

Skuld's face heated, and she wished that she could take the words back. "You should give it back to him."

Frigga's eyes softened, and it made Skuld feel uncomfortably like a child. (You are a child, some part of her whispered, and she stuffed it down and tried to ignore it.) "He's never asked for it," she said, "and he's known all this time."

"He probably thinks you knew it was his."

Frigga laughed. "I suppose I could believe that. He's not exactly very trusting of us." She shook her head. "It's a shame, really. It'd be so much easier if we could work together."

Skuld clenched her fists tight enough that her nails dug into her palms, and thought about Brain's strange stiffness around the council, about his concern at Skuld going off with them, and asked, "What'd you do that made him think he couldn't?"

Frigga was looking at her squarely, now, and she forced herself not to squirm, standing a little straighter. I'm a Union Leader. I helped lead the Dandelions. I'm just as qualified to do this as you.

"You don't trust us."

"I trust my friend." She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. "I don't know you, but I do know him. Something had to have happened—"

"That he hasn't told you about." Frigga had a strange sort of look on her face, and Skuld tried to ignore the way it reminded her of Ephemer. "Can I tell you a secret, Master Skuld?"

It felt like a strange way to change the conversation, but Skuld nodded anyways, watching her stiffly.

"I grew up hearing stories about the five of you—like many children in Scala ad Caelum, of course, but Master Ephemer was my ancestor. They always felt a little more present for me—like I was connected to them in a way many of my peers weren't. And like many children, I was enamored with the legends of these grand heroes." She folded her hands, expression distant but fond. "Master Ephemer was always at the forefront, of course, but I found I resonated more with his best friend—brave and kind and fierce. What I would've given as a child to be where I am now."

The praise made Skuld feel strangely uncomfortable, and she resisted the urge to fidget, biting her lip to keep from saying anything.

Frigga's eyes focused a little, and she gave Skuld a smile that seemed strangely fake. "I am very glad that you're here, Master Skuld, but the world has changed very much from when you and your friends led the other Keyblade wielders. And both of you are very young—forced to go through things you never should have. It's something that's often missed, in those retellings. I understand how hard that probably makes it to be in this time now—especially for you, when your memories of the end are still so fresh."

"I'm managing fine," Skuld snapped. "And—and what does this have to do with anything?"

Frigga's eyes softened. "I'm sorry. I know you both are very qualified for the job—but you've also been through so much, and you had to handle it all on your own, with no training at all. It makes sense that it'd be difficult to trust others—especially when you've had to become so self-sufficient."

"That's what this is about?" Skuld asked, voice brittle as the realization set in. "You think that—that we're just overreacting?"

"I'm saying simply that it can be difficult to adjust."

It sounded reasonable, but that almost made it bother Skuld more. She stared at Master's Defender, something hot in her throat, and made a split-second decision: "Thank you for showing me this, but—but I'm supposed to help Brain explore another world. I shouldn't keep him waiting long."

"I don't believe anyone gave you that assignment."

"I don't need your permission if I'm as important as you say I am."

She met Frigga's eyes and tried to read what she saw there. It didn't seem approving, but she supposed that didn't tell her much. "A compromise, then." Before Skuld could protest, she continued, "You wanted to see the school, didn't you? I can send one of the Keyblade wielders in-training with you. I know a particularly promising one—I'm sure they'd be happy to join you. It would be good for them to get more off-world experience, and then they'd be there to guide you."

It felt, uncomfortably, like Frigga was trying to keep an eye on them. "We'll be fine."

"Please, Master Skuld. As a gesture of good faith."

She didn't know if it was meant to be from Frigga or from her. She also, unfortunately, didn't feel like she was being given a choice. "I guess."

Frigga's eyes softened. "I really do hope that we can work together, Master Skuld. Master Brain—well, his heart's in the right place, but he's a suspicious sort. I'm sure it took a while for him to warm up to you, as well."

"You don't know him."

Frigga smiled in the self-indulgent way someone would with a small child. "Of course." She dipped her head. "I'll send the final member of your team to meet you at the pier. If you'd ever like help—well, myself and the other council members will always be here."


Hey, did you know there's a character named Lodurr in Norse mythology? Because I didn't until I went to look up names for this. I'm sure that's not important and has no relation to canon characters whatsoever.