'The search for Mimir: continued.'

Chapter Twenty-Two: Chasing Shadows

Kvasir had never felt so lost in his life.

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor."

It felt like guilt was gnawing at his stomach. He'd been with Mimir. He shouldn't have let them go off on their own; he should've gone with them, or—or something.

"Kvasir. Kid."

It felt like this was his fault. He'd never—he'd never had to deal with something like this before. He didn't know what he was supposed to do.

"Kvasir."

Hands landed on his shoulders, and he jolted, blinking back to himself. He was shaking, he realized, but he didn't think he could stop it.

Meili stared at him, and their expression softened slowly, until they breathed out a heavy sigh. "Look, you aren't going to fix things by worrying. We're doing everything we can to find them."

"But what if it's not enough?" The words spilled out, and he twisted out of Meili's grip, pacing again. "What if we don't find them soon enough?"

"Kid, let me tell you something I learned leading the Exploration Department for years—'what if's' are useless. They don't help you find missing people, and they don't change what happened. They just make you feel guilt and anxious and keep you from actually doing anything."

They were—right, probably. It didn't really stop Kvasir from worrying. "Maybe—maybe I can go talk to more people at the school, see if they've seen anything." Not that they had before, but—but he needed to do something.

Meili didn't try to discourage him, this time. "Bridget and Eric promise to keep an ear open. I don't know if anyone in the Exploration Department's heard anything, but—"

The door slammed open.

Kvasir snapped towards it, eyes wide and wary—but it was Skuld, breathless, like she'd run the whole way here. "Are you—"

"We know where Mimir is."

It took a moment for Kvasir to properly process the words—but when he did, he'd crossed the room, asking, "Where?" ready to run out the door before he even got an answer.

"One of the outer towns. Called Sol."

Sol. He'd heard that name before; he was pretty sure his family had land there. "We can get someone at the docks to take us."

"How'd you find that out?" Meili asked.

"Doris," Skuld said, a faint smile ticking her lips.

Meili stared at her, then laughed incredulously, running a hand over their face. "I guess she's not such a bad ally, after all."

Kvasir didn't know why they were standing around talking; they knew where Mimir was, so they needed to go.

But Skuld caught his arm when he turned away, gripping it tightly. "Kvasir."

There was something serious in her voice. It forced him to stop—to turn and look at her, eyebrows furrowed, and he tried to stop his fidgeting. It made something uneasy squirm in his stomach, and he tried not to think about it too much.

"We know it's at Sol," she said, "because of this." She lifted a piece of paper—a letter, he realized as he took it, scanning it.

It didn't really hit, at first—so he read it again, and again, and he could feel something sinking as he did. "It's not…a guarantee they're there."

"But it's the best lead we have."

It was. Kvasir wasn't willing to not investigate if it meant finding their friend. But—

(But he thought about what Mimir had said, when they'd seen the assassin's memories, and he thought about how sure Skuld and Brain seemed, and he thought about the fact that this was his family's estate, and—)

Meili pried the letter from his grip; he released it, ignoring how it crinkled at the edges. Meili didn't say anything, but their expression creased, something pinched.

"Kvasir." He snapped toward Skuld, trying to focus on the present. "Do you know where it is?"

"I—yes. Yes, I do. I can find it." He thought he could, at least. His uncle—his uncle had promised the take him there. At some point. "You need to know more about the place," he'd said, and something burned bitter in Kvasir's throat.

"We need you to take us," Skuld said, and it sounded like she was trying to be gentle, but there was a frantic edge to her voice, and her grip on Kvasir's arm tightened.

"I—of course." He took a deep breath. "Is Brain…?"

"He's going to meet us down by the docks. He said he was picking up someone."

"Okay." Another breath.

"You going to be okay, kid?" Meili asked, quiet.

He was—fine. It could easily be someone else, trying to take advantage of an abandoned place. It didn't have to mean anything. (Did it?)

Kvasir lifted his head and gave Meili a shaky smile. "No use worrying about 'what-if's', right?"

"I don't think I like having my words thrown back at me."

"Meili," Skuld said, "can you keep Frigga from coming after us?"

Meili's frown deepened. "Are you serious, kid?"

"You don't know how to fight. We do—and we might have to to get Mimir out." Kvasir heard what she didn't say: If you're with us, you might be a liability.

(And it was strange, to think about that. Skuld was only a little younger than he was; she was a Union Leader. Meili was the Head of the Exploration Department; they knew protocols for navigating dangerous worlds, but they might not be able to defend themself if they had to face an assassin.)

They narrowed their eyes. "Really, kid?"

"We know what we're doing. We're Union Leaders."

Meili still didn't look happy about it. They made a frustrated noise, the letter crumpling under the grip, and worked their jaw like they were considering arguing.

"Meili—please."

They stopped to look at them, expression still frustrated, and then they breathed out a long, frustrated sigh. "If you're not back by the end of the day," they said, "I'm going to send a team after you, stealth be damned."

Skuld's lips twitched toward a smile, and she nodded. And then she turned, tugging Kvasir out the door after her.

(Not that she really needed to; Kvasir was still ready to run out to find their missing friend—and hopefully, if he ran fast enough, he wouldn't have to think about what he was running to.)

-"They're probably already at the docks right now."

The thought had been spinning through Brain's head for a while now, but it was the first time he'd actually said it aloud, muttering it under his breath when it felt like it was going to get stuck inside him. They're probably waiting for us to go find Mimir.

"I think they'll understand the detour."

Sigurd probably meant to be comforting, but Brain wasn't particularly looking for comfort right now. It had taken long enough to find Sigurd himself, tracking him down in the Clock Tower and explaining in as brief of terms as possible what was going on and why, but—

He shifted the bundle carefully; the armor—just a pauldron and a couple plates—clinked under the cloth. The armorer hadn't been too surprised to see him, and hadn't protested when he'd said they needed the armor sooner rather than later, but he had been warned to be careful with it.

It felt silly, now—they didn't have time to grab anything else—but at the time, the idea of picking up armor had seemed useful, if they might have to fight. Now he was just worried he was delaying things.

(That's all you seem to do these days, isn't it?)

He wasn't surprised when he caught sight of Skuld and Kvasir when the docks came into view. Kvasir was pacing, hands fidgeting like he didn't know what to do with them, and Skuld was watching the streets, tense, expression pinched. She caught sight of them first, and her expression went rapidly through relief, surprise, and confusion.

Kvasir noticed them after a moment, glancing their way briefly before snapping around, like it'd taken him a moment to realize they were actually there. "Brain! And—I'm not sure I know you?"

"Sigurd," Skuld said before either of them could say anything. "Why…?"

"He offered to help," Brain answered, and it was only half-true. "Figured an extra hand wouldn't hurt."

(He didn't say that he hoped that maybe Sigurd would have some extra insight, even if he wasn't entirely sure what that would be. He didn't say that a part of him was still worried that Sigurd would come after them or report them to Frigga or something, and he'd rather have him close, where he could keep an eye on him. He didn't say that there was a part of him that thought if Sigurd actually saw more of what was going on—if he made an effort to reach out to him—then he might be swayed to their side completely.)

(He didn't say that the offer of help had touched him, either.)

"Anyway," he said, taking a breath and trying to brush the thoughts away, "here."

Skuld fumbled with the armor as he dumped it into her arms; he could see her eyes widening as she seemed to realize what it was, even with the cloth still covering it.

"What is it?" Kvasir asked, coming closer—and then his eyes widened, brightening for just a moment as Skuld pulled the cloth away. "Armor?"

"I forgot about this," she murmured, running a thumb along the pauldron's edge. "Brain—"

"Should probably try it on before we leave," Brain interrupted. "Make sure that it works."

Skuld hesitated a moment, then cautiously lifted the armor. It wasn't particularly fancy to look at—black with purple highlights, tiny flecks of white at the edges, but the pauldron glowed with the spell that held the rest of it.

"Do you need help?" Sigurd asked—hesitant, like he wasn't sure he was supposed to.

"No, it's alright." Skuld still fidgeted with it a moment, trying to get it to settle in place, tightening the strap underneath her arm. "I thought it would be…different."

"It's all there," Brain said. "You just—" He tapped his shoulder.

Skuld glanced at him curiously, then touched the glowing patch on the pauldron. Light flashed, and Brain turned away, tugging his hat lower to shield his eyes and ignoring Skuld's and Kvasir's startled noises.

It took a while after the light faded for Brain to blink the sunspots out of his eyes. He hadn't actually gotten the chance to see the armor before he'd picked it up; the armorer had already stored it behind the spell, and Brain hadn't wanted to take the time to check when he needed to be meeting up with the others. The colors weren't all that different from what stored it—mostly. A golden sun burned bright on the opposite shoulder, trailing flecks of white like stars behind it. Veins ran through the armor, pulsing faintly with the muted colors of daybreak. The helmet reminded him a little bit of the Foretellers' masks; if he looked hard enough, he thought he could see Ava's reflected in it.

Skuld twisted, trying to get a better look at it. Brain caught Kvasir's gasp—distracted, for the moment, from the task at hand. "Is there extra magic in it? How does it glow?"

"I didn't say anything about this," Skuld said, fingers trailing across the sun emblem.

"Technically you did," Brain said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just not to the armorer."

There was a lengthy pause, and for a moment, Brain thought he'd made a mistake. And then Skuld dragged him into a hug, and he relaxed a little. "I knew you were too interested in what the armorer was doing."

Brain snorted, and then he nudged her lightly. "Alright. The armor's digging into my side. Besides, we have a friend to find, right?"

Skuld sucked in a slow breath. "Right." She pulled away, fumbling a moment to put the armor away. When it disappeared, she stared back at him, expression serious.

The levity leaked away slowly. Kvasir's expression steeled; Sigurd stood at the ready; Brain stared beyond them, to the docks, and tried to prepare himself.

It was time to get Mimir back.

-Meili had never hated the fact that they weren't a Keyblade wielder before. Before, it had never felt important; they'd considered it as a way to help them get off-world and explore, but it wasn't something they'd really wanted to do. They'd wanted to fight when they were younger, sure—but they'd never been able to focus much on monsters.

Now, though, the fact that they'd never learned meant that they weren't exactly going to be much use hunting down Mimir. It meant that those kids were out there on their own, again, and they had no idea how to help them.

"Hello, Meili."

And that was one of the last people Meili wanted to see. "Get out, Frigga."

They looked up in time to see the faint twitch of her lips. "Is that any way to greet the Head of the Council?"

Meili leaned back in their chair and folded their arms. "Do you actually have something you need the Exploration Department for?"

"I wanted to check and see how your co-head was doing."

"So the answer is 'no.' If you're just here to harass people, you can leave. Besides, I thought you were training her. You can ask her yourself."

"I would like to get an update from someone who's worked in close proximity to her for a while. She isn't always forthcoming with me."

"That's your problem, not mine. You can speak to her when she's in."

"She's not here?"

Meili cursed themself. "Have you met the Union Leaders? They're always running off by themselves."

"They certainly seem to think they know best, don't they?" Frigga asked, a curl to her lips and a glint to her eye, and it hit Meili, then, that Frigga didn't know. She'd assigned Skuld as their co-head in a less-than-subtle attempt to control her and kick Meili out, and she expected Meili to be mad about it. They had been—they still were, but the anger was less directed at Skuld anymore, and more directed at Frigga herself for the position she'd put them in. But Frigga hadn't been around to see the change; as far as she knew, Meili was still upset about…everything. And it's common ground, Meili realized slowly. She's angry about the idea of being replaced by Brain. Maybe she thinks she can use that to get information.

…But so can I.

Meili had never particularly cared for blueblood politics; they'd tried to navigate it, when they'd first revealed their heritage, but when it had become increasingly clear that most of their family wanted very little to do with them, they'd decided it was better just to stay out of the maneuverings. But now—

Can't do much for them, fighting-wise—but maybe I can do this.

"Yeah," Meili responded, and tried to inject as much frustration into their voice as possible. "Can't keep her around long enough to do her damn job. But I guess she's still better than yours."

"It's frustrating," Frigga agreed, "when someone…unqualified for the job is given your position."

Do you think I'm stupid? they wanted to ask, but didn't. They could, however, point out, "You put her here."

"The Union Leaders are important figures. Scala ad Caelum needs to see that they're given the respect they're due; the Union Leaders themselves need to feel respected." You're doing a great job with that. "She made the request herself. It seemed better to honor it, and appease as many parties as possible." She paused, as if to give them a chance to speak, then added, "But perhaps we can discuss things?"

"Discuss things?"

"If she's truly not a good fit…arrangements could be made for her to go elsewhere."

Meili turned the offer over, more to buy time than anything. At the moment, this was staunchly in Frigga's favor. However— "Yeah, I'm sure some other blueblood would be happy to have her. Might get rid of her for us, if we're lucky."

Frigga's expression shifted slightly; if Meili was looking closely, they thought it might've been towards disapproval, which was…strangely reassuring. They didn't particularly care for Frigga, but it'd be better for all of them if the Head of the Council wanted to, at the very least, keep the Union Leaders alive. "I don't believe the citizens of Scala ad Caelum would be very happy about that."

Meili laughed, and they didn't have to fake the bitterness in it. "Yeah, well—I don't think it's going to matter. I haven't exactly forgotten what all of you thought of me when you thought I might be a threat." They shrugged, expression twisting into a bitter smile. "I've heard the rumors, you know—they're about the only things I actually get from the rest of you. Something about an attempted hit on the kid—or a planned on or something." They waved it away. "But I guess it's not any of my business, right?"

Frigga was studying them with something a little more serious, and they wondered, suddenly, if she knew. "Meili," she said, "I think we really do need to have a conversation. And perhaps we could…arrange things to improve your situation."

They eyed her, pretending to think about it, then asked warily, "What kind of things?"

Frigga smiled like she'd caught them, and Meili forced themself not to smile in turn. Got you, you bastard.

-Skuld hadn't ever been the one of the abandoned islands, before. It reminded her of the wastelands, a little; no visible graves, but probably unmarked ones, everything tattered and falling apart, the salt in the air seeming to sink into the ground and prevent any new growth. Mist came in from the sea, brushing against her skin and raising goosebumps.

It should've been frightening—but then, she'd seen a lot of horrifying things. Right now, most of what she felt was anger, slow-burning and hot in her chest.

The fisherman they'd convinced to take them looked skeptical; neither Skuld, Brain, nor Kvasir had said much to them after getting off, but Sigurd had turned, awkward, and said, "Thank you for taking us."

The fisherman shook his head, muttering something like, "Don't know what everyone's so interested in visiting these for."

Because Mimir's here, Skuld thought. And we're going to get them back.

Or, at least, I hope we are.

She wondered where Aegir was; if he was hiding away in here, waiting for them to come after their friend, or if he had no idea they were coming at all. It didn't escape her that this could be a trap—but it wasn't like they had much choice in the matter.

"It's this way," Kvasir said. He was quiet; his voice pitched, like maybe he'd tried to inject some levity into it, but it hadn't quite worked. They followed him as he headed further, making a beeline through broken streets towards the far end of the island. "I've never actually been, you know—but my uncle told me stories about it. It's been in the family for a long time—it used to be a very nice estate."

It sounded like he was rambling; Skuld wasn't sure how to feel about it, sympathy warring with anxious irritation, and so she ventured, "Kvasir—"

"It's fine," he said, too quick. And then, quieter, "I'm fine." His voice trailed away, something passing across his expression she couldn't place, and she turned away and left him to his thoughts.

(Kvasir fell silent, and in a strange way, that felt worse—but she could parse out her feelings about that later. Later, when they had Mimir back, and they were safe.)

A crumbling mansion appeared in the distance, and Skuld tensed a little, Starlight flashing into her palm almost without her consent. While still standing, it looked like it had seen better days, dirt and grime smeared along the sides, the windows dirty and broken.

Kvasir stopped in front of it, staring up like he felt vaguely haunted. "This is it," he said, quiet. His fingers rubbed circles on his palms.

"It's quiet," Brain said, eyes narrowed. "Kvasir?"

"I—I don't know. Maybe they aren't actually here."

"They have to be," Skuld said, swallowing back the flash of anger-fear-despair. "We need to get them back."

(For a moment, it felt like she was in a different place and time—in a town coated in the hues of daybreak, listening to a Clock Tower toll for a war and being hit with the sudden, desperate realization that, I can't let my friend die.

She hated that she'd been put in this position again. She wasn't going to lose them; she couldn't lose anyone else who was important to her.)

"Sigurd?" Brain prompted. "You know if there's anything here we should be worried about?"

"Not to my knowledge," Sigurd whispered. "I'm not a blueblood, but from everything I've heard, the properties on the outer islands are left undefended. They can't waste the magical energy." He paused, then added, "But if it is Master Aegir, then he might've set up spells around the perimeter, or inside."

Brain hummed in acknowledgement. Starlight flashed in his hand, and he tapped it idly, squinting at the building. After a beat he lifted it, the blade glowing with magic.

"Wait." Kvasir's hand shot out, grabbing the shaft.

Brain paused, head tilted. "Kvasir," he said, and there was an edge to his voice, "we need to get in there."

"I know. I—I know." He stared at him, something almost helpless in his expression, and then he looked away. "If—if it is my uncle, then he'd probably have mines all around the walls." He pointed with his Keyblade. "There might be a barrier, too. So—we need to get in without setting those off. Or if anyone's in there, we might not reach them before they do something to Mimir."

Brain appraised him, but lowered his Keyblade. "Alright. Any ideas?"

"Stop spells," Sigurd answered. At everyone's curious looks, he continued, "We might not be able to avoid setting off any alarms, but we could potentially prevent anyone from leaving if we moved quickly and rotated who used the spell."

Brain hummed an acknowledgement. "Might be good to have a lookout. In case someone tries to leave."

"Or more people come," Skuld added. "Kvasir—"

"No," he said, too quick. Then, steadier, he added, "No, I—I need to come. Mimir's my friend, too."

"You sure you're going to manage it?" Brain asked. "If you're going to come, we need to know you'll fight if you need to. You can't back out just because he's your family."

A part of Skuld wanted to protest—but he was right. They really couldn't afford for things to go wrong when Mimir might be in danger. "It's alright if you want to stay out here," she added, and tried to keep her voice gentle. "We'd understand."

Kvasir stared at her, and for a moment, she thought he might take her up on the offer. And then something in his expression steeled, and he shook his head. "No. I'm coming."

Silence, for a moment. Then, Sigurd said, reluctant, "I suppose that means I'll be standing guard."

"Gives you something to do, right?" Brain asked with a wry smile.

"It seems like I'd have something to do, anyways." After a moment, he added, "Be careful."

"Noted." Brain lifted his Keyblade, pointing it at the mansion. Light glimmered at the tip and zipped towards the door. Something glittered around the building's edge, nearly invisible; the sound of a lock clicking buzzed in Skuld's ears, followed by the faint sound of chains shattering. Little flecks of near-invisible purple light fell like glass shards and disappeared.

Kvasir grew paler, but he didn't say anything.

Skuld was moving almost as soon as the barrier was down, magic funneling into her feet and sending her launching towards the door. She unleashed a Stopga spell just after she made it through the door, already running through the hallways, something cold and metallic on her tongue. She didn't stop to see if the others were following—but a heartbeat later, footsteps sounded behind her, and she pushed herself harder.

Their footsteps echoed loudly in the empty space. Skuld threw open a door, checking for people. Nothing. Just an empty study.

"Nothing here," Kvasir called lowly, hurrying away from a door.

Brain didn't say anything; he cast another spell, expression tight.

They hurried through the empty hallways, twisting and turning, dodging around debris and ducking into empty rooms, alternating spells to try and make sure no one could escape. There was a sense of urgency there that was familiar, and it pushed Skuld further, further, trying to hunt down whoever was hiding here.

But…it was strange. She knew that they'd been casting Stop spells, and she tried to blame it on that, but everything was so…quiet. They hadn't seen anyone at all—no one moving like they were coming after them, no one waiting in the other rooms, nothing. Not even spells to protect the place. It made her nervous, heart ticking uncertainly behind her ribcage. "What if they're not here?" she asked, throwing open another door. Nothing.

"Then we'll look somewhere else," Brain answered, but his expression was pinched.

"Something's wrong. I feel like we should've found something by now."

Brain didn't seem like he had an answer for that.

Eventually, there was nowhere to go but up—up the stairs, up to the rooms at the top—and there, in front of them, was finally, finally Aegir.

He was frozen—the Stop spells had done their work—but he looked surprised, angry, like he'd realized what was happening but was too slow to stop it.

Kvasir made a wounded noise. Skuld didn't turn to look at him.

She didn't entirely mean to summon her Keyblade; it came almost of its own accord, burning hot in her hands, and she wanted to shake Aegir and ask him what he'd done and where he'd taken Mimir and what he wanted. Because the room was empty; Aegir was the only one they'd run into.

A flash of light at her side; she jerked away, lifting her Keyblade defensively, but it was only Brain, chains flying from the tip of his Keyblade and wrapping around Aegir tightly. He pulled his Keyblade back, eyes narrowed.

"Is that—is that necessary?" Kvasir asked, voice strained.

"Better to be safe than sorry." He nodded towards Skuld. "You want to drop the spell?"

Kvasir looked like he wanted to say something else—but then he looked at Skuld's face, and his mouth clamped shut, his eyes swimming with questions as he turned back to his uncle.

Skuld's chest burned. She flicked her Keyblade sharply, and the spell dropped with it, Aegir only having half a heartbeat to slump forward before the chains pulled tight, keeping him upright. Confusion flashed across his face, and then slow-dawning clarity, features slowly contorting into a snarl. "The Union Leaders," he said. "I should have known. When—"

It was only at that moment when he seemed to notice Kvasir. He froze, staring at his nephew—and Kvasir stared back, just as frozen.

Brain smiled, sharp. "'When' what, now?" His Keyblade tapped the floor, flicking idly, and the chains rattled with it.

Aegir looked like he was about to snap something, but Skuld's Keyblade moved first, tip resting just underneath his chin, and he froze. Slowly, his eyes shifted her way, narrowed in something like contempt.

"Where. Is. Mimir?" Starlight shook a little; it burned in her palms, humming, and Aegir flinched away a little from the hot edge.

He didn't say anything; he just watched her, that same unimpressed, angry look never fading.

Skuld pressed her Keyblade closer—enough to draw blood, a thin trickle running down his neck. "Where?"

"Skuld—" Kvasir started, nervous.

"They aren't here."

Aegir was surprisingly calm, given his circumstances; it made her angrier at the lie, and she snapped, "We know. No one else would've taken them but you."

"You should consider getting better security," Brain added. A flick of his wrist, and a paper fluttered between his fingertips. "Or hide your receipts better."

Aegir's eyes narrowed, and then huffed a bitter, tired laugh. "Breaking and entering now, are we?" He turned back towards Skuld, lifting his chin slightly—whether to move away from her Keyblade, or to make himself look more in control, she didn't know. "But I'm not lying to you. Search if you'd like; they aren't here."

She didn't believe him. Not for a moment. But— "Kvasir?"

"I—oh. Oh, right. I'm—I can go look." He still hesitated, watching her; out of the corner of her eye, she saw his eyes flick between her and Aegir, face pale and nervous. He started to say stuttered words, then paused, and breathed out a shaky breath and left, scurrying into the shadows.

"Cruel to bring my nephew to witness this. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you'd stoop so low."

Back to Aegir, then, anger flaring sharper. "He's here because Mimir's his friend, too."

"Hmm. Not a bad connection to make, all things considered. Their magic is certainly…powerful. I doubt that was on his mind when he befriended them—but that's always been to his advantage, whether he realizes it or not."

"Funny," Brain interjected, "that you know about how 'powerful' their magic is if they were never here."

"I said they aren't here, not that they never were."

Skuld stiffened a little, and her Keyblade shifted just slightly away; when Aegir moved she shook her head and shifted it back, point pressing underneath his chin. "Where?"

"I don't know."

Skuld gritted her teeth. The chains rattled, then tightened.

Aegir grunted, shifting a little. "I don't. Something came to take them. A shadowy beast, of some sort. It claimed they belonged to it—not that I'm sure what that could possibly mean."

Brain had gone very, very still.

Skuld tried not to react, but she was sure the recognition and fear flashed across her face. Darkness. Darkness had taken—but why would they do that? Why would they say—

"Convenient," Brain said, but his voice was tight. "How do we know you didn't just move them somewhere else?"

"I suppose you don't. But it's up to you whether you actually want to find your friend or not."

Skuld said nothing; she didn't know what else she was supposed to say, staring at Aegir with her Keyblade held ready.

After a heartbeat the chains rattled; something thunked into the floor, and it took her a moment to realize it was Brain's Keyblade, jammed into the wood. He trailed carefully around the room, eyes narrowed in thought.

Aegir's eyes started to shift his way.

Skuld twisted her weapon to force his head back towards her. "Don't try anything."

He glared at her, but stubbornly met her eyes, and they remained in that strange sort of standoff until Kvasir came back.

"I couldn't find them," Kvasir said in a whisper; his voice pitched strangely, like he couldn't decide what emotion he wanted to land on.

(Or maybe he's lying, came the thought, to protect his uncle. She shoved it away almost as soon as it came—Mimir was his friend, and Kvasir had been nothing but friendly so far—but it had still been there, and it rankled at the back of her mind.)

"As I said," Aegir stated, giving Skuld a pointed look.

"He might not be lying about Darkness, either," Brain said, his voice flat. "Certainly looks like there was some sort of struggle." He toed the broken bits of the wooden floor.

"Or maybe Mimir fought back, and he's just trying to distract us."

"Are we really going to continue with this?" Aegir growled, arms straining against the chains. "I have told you—"

"Uncle."

Aegir fell quiet, and Skuld didn't dare snap around at Kvasir's voice, but she did stiffen.

Kvasir's footsteps moved, faltering, towards them. "Uncle," he said, quiet and careful, like if he spoke too loudly something might break, "did you really take them?"

Aegir's eyes flicked past Skuld—to meet Kvasir's, she thought—and she was surprised to notice something almost like regret flicker across his face.

The silence went too long, and Kvasir sucked in a sharp breath. "Because I told you about them," he whispered, and guilt leaked into his voice and dripped from his words. "And you—you were the one who went after us. Mimir was right. Skuld and Brain were—" He broke off, and then fell into an uneasy silence; when Skuld risked a glance towards him, his eyes were wide and his face pale, his lips pressed flat and his fists clenched so hard they shook.

"I didn't go after you," Aegir corrected, quiet, but Kvasir flinched under the admission. "I told them to leave you alone. They chose to ignore my orders."

"But you still tried to ki—to hurt my friends." Kvasir's voice rose, breaking as it did. "They never did anything to you. I didn't take them to meet you to put them in danger."

"I know," Aegir said, and his voice was surprisingly gentle. "You've always been very…softhearted. A virtue, in some ways—but there are many ugly things about the world. Sometimes, that means we must do ugly things to protect ourselves."

"From what? None of them are—they aren't threats. Or they weren't, until you made them ones." Kvasir's voice was shifting towards anger, now, hurt and betrayed.

"If the Union Leaders won't align with us," Aegir said, turning back to Skuld, "then they will always be threats—whether they intend to be or not. Scala ad Caelum would rather their heroes be in charge, I'm sure—ignoring the fact that we were the ones who remained after Daybreak Town's fall."

Skuld tried not to flinch, but her Keyblade moved, just slightly.

It was only then that she noticed the chains had started to fade.

Brain, apparently, noticed at the same moment. "Shit," he growled, hand snapping out towards his Keyblade. "Skuld—"

She was moving, but Aegir was quicker; he surged into a standing position, chains breaking and scattering sparks across the ground. His Keyblade appeared in an instant, blocking her attack—and then, to her surprise, Kvasir was beside her, weapon swinging towards his uncle. Aegir parried, but his eyes had narrowed—and then he disappeared, flickering away with some spell as Skuld's Keyblade cut through the empty space.

The room fell very, very quiet—aside from Kvasir's breathing, ragged and tired. Skuld's hands tightened around her Keyblade, and it shook in her grip. He'd gotten away—but then, apparently Mimir wasn't here anymore.

Kvasir pulled away; he stared at his Keyblade like it had bit him, then dismissed it quickly.

"Kvasir," Skuld started, "are you—"

"I'm fine," he answered, too quick, and then gave her a shaky smile. "We should—we should go tell Sigurd, shouldn't we?" He turned and left the room without waiting for them to answer, feet clacking sharp and quick.

Brain's breath hissed between his teeth, but Skuld was the first to follow, trying to catch up with her friend—but he stayed pointedly a couple of steps ahead, not looking back at them as they followed.

Sigurd met them when they emerged. "What happened? I saw someone run—but it was just one person."

"Mimir's not here," Brain answered curtly.

Almost simultaneously, Kvasir said, "It was my uncle."

A brief bout of silence, Kvasir's expression shifting towards something Skuld couldn't read.

"I…see." Sigurd looked between the three of them, like he wasn't sure what else he was supposed to say.

Skuld took a breath and said, "Mimir isn't here anymore. They used to be, but—something took them."

"Darkness," Brain said, clipped.

"That is…less than ideal," Sigurd said, still sounding vaguely uncertain. "Do you know where?"

No. No, they didn't, and it made Skuld want to scream or cry or something. They could be anywhere; she didn't know where to even begin looking.

"…I have an idea of where to look."

Skuld snapped towards Brain. He wasn't looking at them, hat pulled over his eyes, but he must've guessed her reaction, because he shrugged and said, "Not like this is the only abandoned island. Figure the best place to start might be where I learned it was back in the first place."

It took a moment for it to hit her—but Sigurd, apparently, figured it out much quicker. "Oh."

"The one where you went before." For a moment, worry for Brain tempered her worry for Mimir. "Brain—"

"We don't have other leads."

He…was right about that. But— "Are you going to be okay?"

Brain smiled mirthlessly. "I'll manage."

-The abandoned city was just as eerily quiet as Brain remembered it being. He stepped foot onto the cobblestones and felt his skin prickle, something wreathing around his feet, cold and slimy. A quiet, hissing sort of whisper went through his ears, and was gone in the next instant. No Heartless greeted them, but he thought he could see flickers of yellow eyes from between the buildings.

The others were quiet, too, the only sound the rocking of the boat as they stepped off it. Skuld's eyes flicked across the buildings, face pale but expression set stubbornly. Kvasir seemed more ill at-ease, hunching in on himself, expression openly worried. Sigurd seemed the most relaxed, but even then, there was something tense about the set of his shoulders.

They stood there for several moments, staring at the abandoned city, and it took Brain a second to realize that the others were waiting for him to lead. His eyes flicked between them, and then back to the empty buildings and ruined streets. Phantom pains shivered up his arms; echoes of screaming rang in his ears—his own, imagined others'—and he rubbed his thumb against his palm, ignoring the way it felt like it burned.

You need to move, he thought, but it wasn't quite enough to make him actually do it. When he blinked, he thought he could see the shadows shifting, leaving behind specters of his friends, of the Dandelions, of the people who'd been left behind in the city.

Someone moved behind him—Skuld, maybe, or Sigurd, or even Kvasir, and—it didn't matter, because he stumbled into motion in response, pulling away from whatever the others might be trying to do. A heartbeat, and then the rest followed, footsteps offbeat.

A low breeze stirred some dust along the streets, rattling some broken glass, the sounds ringing like wind chimes. Brain's feet crunched across dead flowers, shards of a pot cracking underfoot. He pushed aside a rotting flag, leading the others through the streets almost mechanically. He didn't know where to even begin looking—but then, Darkness had found him last time. Maybe he just needed to wait.

Kvasir was the one who finally broke the silence, laughing a jittery, awkward laugh. "It's kind of creepy."

"Yeah," Skuld whispered. "It feels like…" She trailed off, but rubbed her arms, flicking her fingers like something sticky clung to their tips.

Brain hummed an acknowledgement, and then came to an abrupt stop in front of a ruined street, the cobblestones cracked and the buildings burned.

(If he closed his eyes, he thought he could see himself, Keyblade flashing in a blind rage, metal clanging in his ears. That whispering hiss grew louder: You failed, you failed, what good did this do you—)

"I guess it's no surprise no one fixed this."

Sigurd. He'd stepped up beside Brain, facing the destruction. He wondered if he could see the memory just as clearly as Brain could.

"It doesn't mean much, Master Brain," Sigurd continued, quiet. "It…fits in with the rest of the scenery."

He wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a joke or not; he couldn't bring himself to laugh, anyways, eyes turning from Sigurd back to the broken streets.

(He could feel Skuld and Kvasir behind them, staring, and he resisted the urge to pull his hat down to cover his face. He wondered what they thought, and he tried to swallow back the shame.)

"Well," Brain said, trying to keep his voice light, "suppose we could try fighting again and see if it brings Darkness out."

Surprisingly, Sigurd laughed—quiet, tired, but still grimly amused. "I'm sure there are better ways. Besides, we should probably be prepared to fight Darkness itself, if it stole your friend."

(For a moment, he was standing in the lifeboat chamber, the world slowly crumbling around them, rapidly trying to come up with some sort of plan to save everyone and running out of ideas just as quickly. An impossible task, something whispered, the noise echoing in his ears—and then, for a moment, he was in the Foretellers' Chambers instead, watching as Ven offered himself up to seal Darkness away. Unless—)

Skuld made a startled noise, and it dragged Brain out of his thoughts. "Something's moving."

Yellow eyes stared at them from the rubble. Another pair appeared, and then another, and another, and slowly they edged out—the little dandelion Heartless, from the last time he'd been here.

Skuld's Keyblade flashed into her hands, but she hesitated when Brain didn't move; he could feel her watching, but he stared at that doll, still clutched in the Heartless's mouth, and it tilted its head, ears flicking curiously.

"They're kind of cute," Kvasir said, and he took a couple of hesitant steps towards them, extending a hand like he would to a stray cat.

"Kvasir," Skuld said, voice pitched and nervous.

"They don't look like they'd hurt too much. Besides, they haven't attacked yet."

One of the Heartless turned towards Kvasir. It tilted its head, then cautiously crossed the space between them. It sniffed of his fingers, then gently took them in its mouth, gnawing on them, and Kvasir laughed. "See?"

The other Heartless seemed to determine that meant this was safe, and they hurried across the ground to meet them. A second went up to Kvasir, trying to nudge the first out of the way and earning a growl from it. One approached Skuld, and she lifted her Keyblade warily but didn't strike—then jumped as a second came behind her, leaping and batting harmlessly at the dangling keychain. Sigurd pulled his hands away, seeming uncertain as a pair leapt up on some debris to try and get closer.

Brain didn't even realize one had come to him, too, until he felt something nudging his leg. The Heartless with the doll stood on his foot, staring up at him; when it noticed him looking, it dropped the doll, backing away a little.

Throat tightening, Brain hesitantly knelt. The doll looked like it'd been hand-made—frayed now, some of the stuffing spilling out of rips in the seams, little bite marks from jagged jaws in the arms and legs.

The Heartless kept tilting its head towards him and then away—like it was worried he'd do something. To the doll…?

He sat fully, fingers playing carefully with the doll's arms. "Could probably fix this," he murmured, half to the Heartless and half to himself. "Keep it from falling apart completely."

He felt a little ridiculous once he'd said it—he was talking to a Heartless—and he wasn't sure if it understood at all, but it came closer and crawled into his lap. He made a noise of surprise, but it seemed harmless enough, so he didn't try and protest.

"Do you think they're…?" Skuld started, but she broke off, expression twisting.

"Probably some of the people who used to live here," Brain finished anyways. "Yeah."

They fell quiet for a moment, the little Heartless still running around and examining them, seemingly oblivious to their concern.

"Well," Kvasir said, sounding like he was trying to make his voice lighter, "if so, then they probably know this place better than us, right?"

"They are…Heartless," Sigurd said carefully.

"But we don't even know where to begin looking—so asking them can't hurt." Kvasir leaned forward, gently grasping one and forcing it to look at him. It wiggled and protested until Kvasir started talking. "Hey. We're looking for a friend of ours. They were taken by a big, dark monster. Do you know someplace they might hide?"

"Don't think it can understand you," Brain said dryly as the Heartless stared blankly back.

Kvasir set the Heartless down gently. It took off running almost immediately.

"You scared it."

Kvasir stared after it intently. He sighed when it didn't reappear. "Well. It was worth—"

A tiny squeak. A heartbeat later, the Heartless appeared around a corner, staring at them.

Brain squinted at it curiously.

"What's it doing?" Skuld asked, quiet.

"Playing a game?" Sigurd suggested. "Surely it couldn't—"

Another squeak. The Heartless hurried back towards Kvasir, tugging on his pant leg and running off again. It paused this time, turning back and staring at them for a few moments, then turning and hurrying away.

For the first time since they'd set out, Kvasir's smile looked genuine. "I told you!" He sprinted after it, shouting, "Come on, come on!"

The other Heartless scurried after him. Sigurd seemed to shoot into motion more from surprise than anything, calling, "Kvasir, wait!"

"You've got to be kidding me," Brain said, shifting the Heartless in his lap back to the ground; it made a noise of protest, but grabbed the doll and hurried after the others.

"Come on," Skuld said, and despite himself, Brain started running, trying to ignore the vague stirrings of hope. It might be nothing; they might not understand at all. But then, the Darklings had seemed like they could understand and respond to people; maybe they weren't the only Heartless that could, and if they had any idea of where Mimir was—

Brain ran a little faster.

The Heartless led them deeper into the abandoned city—deep into the center, around broken and crumbling buildings, past other things that moved in the shadows, always pausing every now and again to make sure that the others were still following them. Eventually, they found themselves heading towards a large building in an open area. It wasn't quite like the Clock Tower—but it was close enough, large and imposing and bringing with it a vague sense of familiarity. The Heartless didn't pause upon reaching it, but the rest of them did, if only for a moment, to take in the crumbling marble and pick their way through debris.

The interior seemed…slightly hazardous. The floors were crumbling; Kvasir nearly fell through one, if Sigurd hadn't reached out to catch him. The walls had cracks running up them, and Brain found his hands twitching, ready to summon his Keyblade and cast a barrier spell, if need-be. The Heartless led them down one set of stairs, and then another, slowing their pace to allow the rest of them to pick their way carefully over the crumbling steps. Skuld attempted to jump over them using magic; she yelped when a step broke when she landed, and Brain's Keyblade was in his hand in an instant, catching her with a spell.

They moved more carefully after that, picking their way down the sides, carefully testing each step before they put their weight on it.

The air felt oppressive, the further they went down. Something heavy weight on Brain's shoulders; he thought he could hear water drip-drip-dripping somewhere, and then he thought he could see it, dark liquid dripping through the cracks in the walls and leaking across the floor. Something tasted rotten on his tongue, cold and bitter, like magic that had turned sour.

Skuld made a noise of surprise—and for a moment, he thought it was because she'd noticed the same thing he had. Then: "I know this place."

"What, you've been here?"

"No. I just mean—it's like the Clock Tower. The one on the main island. The same layout and everything." Skuld's expression had slowly turned towards something uncertain. "The door Frigga wanted to show me—the one that could only be opened with Master's Defender. It was down this way."

A shiver ran down Brain's back. He tried to ignore it—ignore the familiar foreignness of Starlight in his palm, or the way his fingers itched and burned, or the sound of something whispering in his ears.

The Heartless, eventually, led them to a pile of rubble that might've once been a door. There was the sharp, painful scent of too much magic, burning Brain's nose and making him cough. But the door itself wasn't there anymore—just a crumbling archway, barely standing. The Heartless waited at the entrance, watching them expectantly.

Brain approached it warily. He didn't quite dare touch the archway itself, ducking underneath it to try and get a better look. It was dark, and it took a while for his eyes to adjust. Chains rattled near his head; they extended down into the shadows, like they were holding something up. A long set of stairs descended below them, just as broken as the ones they'd used to get down here.

"They're down there?" Skuld asked, quiet.

Brain glanced back at her, then down into the shadows, swallowing tightly. "Guess so."

"You guys did so good!" Kvasir said, and it took a moment for Brain to realize the high-pitched praise was directed at the Heartless, who seemed pleased with the attention. It made Brain's lips twitch towards a smile, despite the situation, but he tuned Kvasir out and stared back into the shadows.

"Are you ready?" Skuld asked, quiet.

"As I'll ever be." He glanced back; Sigurd had also approached the Heartless, apparently, and Kvasir seemed like he was trying to coach him through interacting with them, bright and cheerful. "Hey. We're going down."

Kvasir's expression turned serious again. He set the Heartless he was holding down. "You guys should stay up here. We don't know what we're going to find."

The Heartless stared at him blankly.

Kvasir took a deep breath, then turned towards them and nodded.

Sigurd stepped forward, joining them.

A quiet squeak at Brain's feet. When he glanced down, one of the Heartless was nudging him—the one with the doll. When it noticed him looking, it stretched as far up as it could. It took him a moment to realize it was giving him the doll; when he took it, the Heartless pulled away, making a satisfied sort of noise and returning to the others.

He stared at the doll, not quite sure what to do with it. Eventually, he slipped it inside his jacket pocket—safe, hopefully, though he wasn't sure why the Heartless had given it to him. Promised to fix it, I guess. If they can really understand us, maybe it just wanted to make sure it didn't get lost.

Skuld was the first to move. She took a steadying breath, then headed down the stairs. Kvasir followed, face pale. Sigurd hesitated a moment, resting a hand on Brain's shoulder, then following the others.

Brain stared at the shadows. Something felt like it was dripping down his back and clinging to his shoulder.

(Poor little light. So unsure. Where is that confidence you used to have?)

He glanced, for a moment, behind him. Nothing was there except the Heartless.

He turned sharply away and descended into the darkness.

I'M BACK. And I survived NaNo, haha, so back to our semi-regular update schedule—or, well, mostly. Kind of realized while doing NaNo that, uh…trying to get a chapter out roughly every week was burning me out a little bit, so updates might be slightly slower than they used to be. (Closer to every two weeks, probably, unless we get a particularly short chapter—like, 10 pages-ish.)

That said—these next few chapters were probably going to take a bit longer, anyways, because they're likely going to be a decent length. Their chapters that I've been VERY excited to write, though (there are things here that I've been setting up for what feels like FOREVER, I'm dying to share them, haha), so hopefully you'll enjoy them!