'The crew obtains an unlikely ally.'

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Alliance

Brain was trying to ignore the fact that Skuld was staring at him suspiciously. Trying.

It was a little hard to pretend he didn't know why when a small, furry head kept trying to poke its way out of his pocket.

He shoved his hand in his pocket pointedly, ignoring the quiet squeak of protest. He bit back a sigh. Some spy you're going to be.

Meili—walking ahead of them—sighed and rubbed their forehead, like they were already done with whatever the two of them were up to.

Skuld's eyes had narrowed further, and Brain did sigh this time; he went to wave her off, then remembered there was a small, prototype Spirit in his pocket that he didn't want the rest of Scala ad Caelum to know about, and decided against it. "Stop looking at me like that."

"You have a cat in your pocket!"

"It's not a cat."

"It meowed."

"Still not a cat."

"Brain."

"Spirit," he relented, lifting his free hand to mime for her to keep it down, and watched Skuld's eyes go wide. "Was working on it last night. Think I finally got something to click." Which was more than a little bit of a relief; he was starting to think he would have to convince Kvasir to help him recruit the semi-friendly Heartless on the abandoned islands, and who knew how much help they'd be?

(Not that he was sure this would be much help, either—but at least it was a start.)

"You can't pet it yet," Brain said, cutting off a question that he was pretty sure was coming eventually. "It's supposed to be a secret."

The little Spirit shifted in his pocket; tiny claws batted at his hand, and he grimaced, but didn't jerk his hand away until little teeth bit into it, too. The Spirit's head popped out of his pocket again, and he couldn't help but think it looked unreasonably smug.

"Secret, huh?" Skuld asked with a tiny smile.

"We need to work on its listening, apparently." He tried to get it to stick its head back in his pocket, but that only resulted in it clinging onto his arm instead. He hissed quietly, dragging it closer to his chest and trying carefully to detach it.

Skuld looked like she was very close to laughing at this point. "It takes after you."

"Hilarious." Giving up, he fished a treat out of his pocket—a piece of bacon, stolen from this morning's breakfast—and offered it to the little creature. It released its death grip on his arm, sniffing the food experimentally.

Skuld watched it, expression softening a little.

A quick glance around showed that there weren't enough people on the street to pay attention to them—there were barely any people at all, really—and so he dumped the Spirit unceremoniously into Skuld's arms, ignoring the startled noises from both cat and friend. "Here. Your problem now."

"Brain!" But there was laughter in her voice, and she let the little Spirit crawl onto her shoulder without protest. It purred as Skuld scratched its chin, squinting at Brain as if to say, See? This is what you're supposed to do.

Brain narrowed his eyes back at it. "You're supposed to be a spy," he grumbled, but there wasn't really any heat in it.

"Spy?" Skuld repeated, but he could see her expression shifting with realization even as she said it. "Right. The bluebloods."

"And Darkness. Just…to keep tabs on things." Brain shrugged, glancing away from them both. "It's supposed to be able to pass on some of what it hears and sees to other people. Haven't really had much chance to test it out yet, so…might not matter anyways."

The little Spirit nudged Skuld's hand; she started, but smiled, scratching it willingly.

It dragged a small smile from Brain, too. "Well. Guess if things don't work out, it can still be a pet."

Another sigh from Meili; Brain had almost forgotten they were there. "There's only going to be one of them, right?"

"…For now."

"Don't overrun my apartment with animals."

"Technically they're magical constructs."

Meili muttered something unintelligible.

Skuld smothered laughter, and it pushed Brain to add, "Could make you one."

"I don't want pets, kid."

"They're cute," Skuld said. "And useful."

"No."

"Kvasir's going to beg for one," Brain pointed out.

Meili groaned. "Light, the four of you are going to be the death of me." They lifted their head, and then stiffened, eyes locked on something ahead. "Shit. Alright—it looks like Frigga's already here."

Brain looked past them, eyes landing on a familiar figure, and his lips twisted into a frown, whatever ease he'd been feeling slipping away. Skuld went tense beside him; she lifted the Spirit off her shoulder, shifting it into her bag, and Brain could barely muster up the exasperation that it went in without protest.

Frigga inclined her head upon seeing them. She didn't even let them speak, starting without preamble, "I have a proposition for you."

The three of them slowed to a stop. Brain stared at her, and he could feel Master's Defender slowly coming to life in his chest. "Heard you already gave them one," he said, the words bubbling out before he could think to stop them. He smiled, edges sharp. "What, is the deal not as good as you thought it was?"

"Kid," Meili said—warning this time, not exasperated.

Frigga looked at Brain, appraising, and he wondered if she already knew—about the Book, and about Master's Defender. He wasn't quite sure what he felt about either. "It concerns you, as well," she said, which set off all sorts of warnings. "By now, I'm sure you've heard of the…incident that happened the other night."

(The fight with Aegir. Where she lost Master's Defender. Because he'd stolen it back to fight Darkness.)

"I was part of that council meeting yesterday, Frigga," Meili said.

Almost simultaneously, Brain said, "Yeah, I have some idea."

And Skuld: "What does that have to do with—" She broke off, exchanging glances with Brain, and Meili made a noise like they were biting back a groan.

"Aegir may not be the only member of our family that has…less than pleasant opinions on your presence here."

"You mentioned that before," Skuld said, her voice tight. "That things were 'precarious' for your family."

There was something like venom there, sharp and bitter, and Frigga appraised her. "Aegir was…more willing to act than most of my family. For a while, it certainly seemed like he was the extreme. However, our fight might have…caused the rifts to deepen. Some members of our family have made it known that they're displeased with how things are proceeding. If that sentiment is allowed to fester, then it could lead to further…complications."

"That'd be bad for your leadership, I'm sure," Brain said, because he knew there was no way Frigga was doing this for purely altruistic reasons; she had always seemed anxious to preserve her power, above anything else, and if her family wasn't happy with the Union Leader situation, then they'd either force her to step down or—

…Or force her to go against us. Shit.

"It would," Frigga agreed, and the way she was looking at him said that she'd likely realized that he'd come to the same conclusion she had. "And it would likely not be pleasant for both of you, either, if my family forced a…change of leadership."

"You've manipulated us," Skuld said, voice rising in anger, "ever since we got here."

"I'm aware. However, I have also been trying to avoid causing direct harm to either of you. I intend to stick to that."

"Because it wouldn't look good for your public image, right?" Brain asked.

"If you would just let me finish," Frigga snapped, and for a moment she looked exhausted. (For a moment, he saw her sitting alone in the garden again, wondering where she'd gone wrong. For a moment, he'd wanted to tell her—to explain what she couldn't seem to see for herself. And for another, all he'd been able to see was himself, wondering the exact same thing.)

The moment passed. Frigga took a breath, straightening her sleeves, like she was trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation. "It is in all of our best interests to resolve this situation as peacefully as possible. You have already experienced the ramifications of my family's distrust." She leveled a look at Skuld, who flinched. "At the moment, very few members of my family are endeared to you—and those that are don't have much sway." She lifted a hand, stalling any protests. "You may not particularly like my family, but forging connections with the right members could protect you from further backlash, and make it much safer for you to live here."

Brain narrowed his eyes; he wanted to say, Still trying to manipulate us, huh? but held his tongue.

Skuld's fists clenched, her expression blank.

Meili folded their arms; it dawned on Brain that they'd inserted themself in front of the two of them, which felt a little ironic, considering both Brain and Skuld were likely to fair better in a fight against an experienced Keyblade wielder. (Not that it mattered much, if Frigga didn't have Master's Defender anymore.)

"However, my situation is also…precarious right now, both with my family and Scala ad Caelum. In addition, I know at least one of you is aware of…extenuating circumstances."

"Darkness," Skuld interjected, apparently unwilling to stay quiet on the subject, her eyes narrowed.

"Darkness," Frigga agreed easily. "The more fighting, the more like it is to…attract their attention."

She didn't really need to elaborate on that; both Brain and Skuld had seen firsthand what Darkness could do. Even Meili seemed to understand the severity of the situation; even if they hadn't seen Darkness destroy a world, they were still likely aware of what happened to some of the other towns, and they grimaced, expression grave.

"You need someone who has enough power and connections to help protect you from the rest of my family. I need external support to reduce challenges to my position. And all of us, I'm sure, would prefer not to have to face the consequences of Darkness wreaking havoc on the streets. So I propose an alliance—at the very least, until the situation with my family and Aegir is resolved. I will lend my influence and experience to help you make connections with useful members of our family and try to sooth egos, as well as provide whatever protection I can against any further attacks on your persons. You will show public support for my leadership and work with me to appease other members of my family, where possible. With any luck, we can hopefully stave off potentially serious consequences."

"No," Skuld snapped before either Brain or Meili could say anything. "I don't want to play your games, Frigga."

"You need allies, Master Skuld," Frigga said, even if she didn't look surprised. "Whether you like it or not, there are many powerful people who see the two of you as dangerous. Right now, your allies are woefully underwhelming. A couple of surprises won't be enough to protect you forever."

Meili's expression creased, digging into what looked like a long-simmering anger, but they didn't say anything.

"What about the people here? Your fighting hurt them before—"

"So it'd be good to avoid that happening a second time, wouldn't it?" Frigga's expression softened a little. "Believe me—I don't want anything to happen to them, either. But to do that, I have to make sure that my family remains…content. It's a balancing act; you need to determine where to focus your energies to prevent Darkness from building too much in one area."

It clicked, then. "If Darkness was locked away," Brain said, "it wouldn't have to be a balancing act."

Frigga smiled, just slightly. "That's right."

If they got that black box—then they could stop Darkness from causing any harm, even if the bluebloods did fracture. Then they could maybe actually do something about them.

…But it'd mean they needed to wait until that actually happened.

Brain exchanged a look with Skuld. She looked frustrated, but he could see in her eyes that she was starting to come to a similar conclusion. "It'd buy us time," he pointed out, quiet.

"I don't like it."

"Yeah. Me neither."

Frigga was still watching them, appraising, and it dawned on Brain that Darkness being trapped away meant that she could do whatever she wanted, too. And the reality was, he had no idea what she wanted—if, after the danger was gone, she would turn against them, or focus more on the people of Scala ad Caelum, or do something else entirely. The whole thing felt precarious—like it could fall apart if one wrong move was made.

Skuld ground her teeth. "I'm not going to do anything that'll hurt the people here," she said, finally. "I won't just support you blindly."

"I didn't expect you would. But I don't intend to put my own people in danger. Avoiding that is at least part of the reason I've chosen to pursue this route." Her expression had lightened a little, like she'd realized what choice they were leaning towards. "I suppose that means we're in agreement, then?"

Brain figured that he and Skuld were probably on the same page at this point. But—

"Meili?" Skuld asked, quiet.

Meili's expression remained hard. They stared at Frigga, unblinking, for several moments, then exhaled slowly. "I already knew Skuld and I were stuck dealing with her," they said, "so it's not like this is much of a change. It's better to have her on our side."

Frigga's smile turned a little sardonic. "We'll need to discuss the details further, I'd imagine."

Meili made a vague noise of agreement, their eyes narrowing just a little.

"Just your apprentices," Brain asked dryly, ignoring the face Meili made at that, "or all of us?"

Frigga appraised him carefully. "I'd imagine," she said, "that you and any other allies should be present for any major decisions. That said, each person should be focused more on their…specialties."

Which meant that he likely wouldn't end up dealing with much of the actual political aspect of things. That suited him just fine; mostly, he was worried about how Skuld and Meili would likely fair.

Skuld's bag moved, and Brain cast it a glance and smothered a smile. Well. Hopefully, I have my own 'specialty' already figured out.

"I have a few suggestions in mind," Frigga said, "if you're amendable to them—albeit more applicable to Meili and Master Skuld."

Skuld bristled, but Brain waved her off. "It's fine. Got my own stuff to work on, anyways." He gave Skuld a pointed look; her hand went to her bag, and then she bit back a sigh.

Frigga studied him almost suspiciously, but inclined her head in acknowledgement. "Good. If Meili and Master Skuld could come with me…?"

Skuld looked hesitant, but sighed, letting herself be dragged away with one last hesitant glance back towards Brain.

He should…probably actually leave. He wasn't needed here; didn't want to deal with Frigga, anyways. But—

(Master's Defender burned in his chest, a thousand whispers running through his mind.)

"Frigga—"

Frigga paused, glancing back at him.

The words fell away. He clamped down on them, locking them carefully away in his chest. It was…a stupid question, anyways. He'd figure it out; it's not like Frigga had ever given him a straight answer before. "Never mind." He dipped his head towards Skuld and Meili, ignoring their questioning looks. "Good luck." He turned, leaving without giving himself a chance to second guess himself.

-Skuld didn't like being made a spectacle of. She didn't like the idea of being paraded around like some sort of tool to be used instead of a person. She especially didn't like that she knew she was only out here, giving a speech to the people of Scala ad Caelum, because Frigga had insisted it was a good idea.

(She had been more or less volunteered for the position. "Meili is a member of the council," Frigga said, "but they don't have the same sway as a figure of legend. And Brain is—himself.")

It wasn't like she hadn't given speeches before—she'd had to help lead the Dandelions, after all. But knowing the reason behind this one left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Still, she was here in front of the Clock Tower, standing in front of a growing crowd of people. Frigga had coached her on what she was supposed to say; they'd gone over it carefully the day before, Frigga picking over her choices until she'd been ready to snap, but they'd come up with something more or less useable, and Skuld had gone over it again and again until the words had engraved themselves behind her eyelids. (And until Brain had stolen the paper and told her to go to sleep, the hypocrite.)

You're doing it to protect them, she reminded herself, sucking in a careful breath and trying to ignore the way the words clanged about her chest. It felt like the same justifications they'd used to take away the Dandelions' memories, and look how little that'd mattered in the end.

(Well, it just means you have experience with this, doesn't it?)

"Hello," Skuld said, lifting her voice and trying very hard not to wince. "I know I haven't spoken to all of you much. I'm sorry—things have been…busy."

People's eyes were on her, now, watching her with something like wary curiosity. "They might not be happy," Frigga had warned her, and she tried not to think about the implications of that.

"The accusations against Master Aegir are true; he made an attempt on my life a couple weeks ago, and later kidnapped a friend of mine."

She heard the low, uneasy murmurs from the crowd, and she could feel the faint prick of anger. Maybe we should let them fight, she thought, for half a second. We're never going to be able to keep everyone happy forever—and why should we cave to people who don't care about us or the people of this world?

You'll still need allies, something that sounded suspiciously like Frigga reminded her. And we have to be careful, while Darkness is still here.

"Master Brain and I are working with Master Frigga to ensure nothing else like this happens, and that you all stay safe."

The crowd had gone quiet again, watching her, and she dipped her head. "We will make sure to keep you informed about what we find."

She stepped down, half waiting for people to come and ask her questions. It reminded her, in some ways, of being back in Daybreak Town—but back then, most of the people with questions had been around her age, and in some ways just as lost and confused as she'd been.

They came towards her in a trickle—hesitant at first, then bolder, and she found herself fielding questions that she had to hope she was ready to tackle.

"Have any of the bluebloods—you know. Seemed to agree with Master Aegir?"

"What happens if people start fighting again?"

"What's going to be done about this?"

Some things Frigga had instructed should be sent back to her—questions about Aegir's fate, in particular. Others, Skuld simply didn't have answers for—but she answered what she could, taking a deep breath and trying to sort through the questions.

It was…a lot, after everything that had happened. By the time people stopped trying to talk to her, she felt frazzled and drained.

She needed to—get away from this. Get away from the politics, from the memories, from—everything. Even if it was only for a moment.

Before she'd really consciously considered what she was doing, she'd turned and headed between the buildings, slipping through backstreets and side alleys. She let her feet carry her where they wanted to go, moving like they could take her away from—from whatever responsibility was following behind her.

She didn't stop until she found herself, very abruptly, on the edge of the docks. She slowed, waiting just in the shadows of an alleyway, frozen as she watched.

There were a surprising amount of ships, considering everything that was going on—but then again, she supposed life didn't stop just because something unusual occurred. Some ships looked like the standard, water-faring kind—mostly fishing vessels, when Skuld got a closer look at them. Others were equipped with technology that she wasn't familiar with, though Brain might know, if he were here; some people helped load and unload items from the ships, shouting orders or making jokes. Keyblade wielders wandered near all of them, but they were only identifiable from the armor; it looked like they were just as active as any of the other workers, slipping into the same sort of easy cadence.

Would this have been me? Skuld wondered, watching them. If I'd been born here, and not in Daybreak Town—would I have ended up doing something like this?

…Could I still end up doing something like this?

"Hey!"

Skuld didn't pay much attention to the shout at first; she only turned when the voice repeated, "Hey, Keyblade wielder!" and she realized, very abruptly, that one of the workers was looking at her. She glanced around, then cautiously pointed at herself.

The worker rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you. You see any other wielders lazing about? Come on, help us get this stuff unloaded."

She stood there, stiff and uncertain, for a few seconds, slightly thrown. If he knows I'm a Union Leader—that's kind of—

But he didn't say that.

It dawned on her that he probably couldn't see what she looked like in the shadows—but he might be able to see the glint of armor, still on her shoulders. As far as he knew, she was just another worker, waiting around instead of doing the work she was supposed to be doing.

She could've pointed out the mistake—but there was something strangely comforting about not being immediately identified as a figure of legend. After everything that'd happened, it made her feel…strangely normal. So instead of protesting, she stepped out, approaching the worker and trying not to feel too out of place.

The worker seemed to realize his mistake himself; his eyes widened when she got closer, and he immediately backpedaled, protesting, "Shit—uh, sorry, Union Leader, I didn't realize—"

"I want to help," she interjected quickly, because for half a moment she'd just been Skuld, not Union Leader, and she wasn't quite willing to give that up just yet. "Please."

The worker stared at her with furrowed eyebrows, looking like he still wasn't entirely certain something bad was going to happen, but after a moment he said, "We're working on off-loading some stuff from our last trip off-world. Just grab one of the boxes up front and bring them down; the people down here will figure out the rest."

Skuld nodded, glancing behind the worker towards the ship. There were already people there, helping to carry things off, and after a moment of hesitation she moved toward them, slipping into the crowd.

She felt a little out of place; while no one paid much mind at first, a couple of people seemed to realize that she wasn't supposed to be there when she stepped onto the deck, or grabbed one of the boxes, or set the items awkwardly down. But after a time, the feeling passed. It was…not particularly exciting work. The other crew members didn't say much to her, though they did start talking amongst themselves again after a bit. It was surprisingly mundane—but it was also almost normal, and that was…nice, in a way, after everything.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed before the same dock worker laughed, setting a crate down beside her with a grunt. "Wasn't sure your lot ever did stuff like this."

"'My lot'?"

"Bluebloods and the like." He gestured broadly. "Lot of them would prefer to argue with themselves about whatever messed up family politics they have going on and let us do the hard work."

"I'm not—I'm not really a blueblood. And it's not like we didn't do stuff, back in Daybreak Town."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Fix things. We were in charge of that, most of the time. If something broke, most people didn't know how to fix it." Granted, they often didn't either, but they'd still tried. "We also helped resolve disputes a lot. And made sure that everyone had food and supplies."

The worker made a contemplative noise. "I guess that's not so different from what the council's supposed to do." He stuck a hand out to her, startling her. "Name's Sven."

Skuld gave him a crooked smile and shook his hand. "Skuld—but you already knew that."

Sven huffed a laugh. "Not often you get to hear about Daybreak Town from the source. Usually I imagine it a lot like Scala, you know? But I guess people were still figuring things out back then."

"We were. Scala's so—different." Skuld felt her expression softening. "It's not bad, but—we didn't have a lot of this. We didn't have the same structure for Keyblade wielders or trade or anything. We couldn't even get off-world, yet."

"You're shitting me."

Skuld laughed, shaking her head. "It was still new. We'd always used the Book of Prophecies to visit projections of what the worlds would look like in the future—we never had to travel to the actual worlds."

"Weird."

Another laugh. "Maybe. But—I miss it." Something ached in her chest, and as she stared across the water she thought she could see a familiar sky and bright streets, laughter ringing in the distance. "It was beautiful there. Everything was so colorful—even the Clock Tower. It looked best in the early morning; the sky was always so bright, it felt like something out of a picture book."

She could feel Sven staring at her, and sheepishly she said, "Sorry, maybe I shouldn't have—you don't really need to hear that from me."

"It's fine. Nice to reminisce about places you used to know." Sven nodded towards an abandoned town, clear in the bright day. "I came from there."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. I was pretty young when we had to come over here, but there are still things I miss."

"Like…?"

"The old park. Stars—listen, this island has some nice gardens, but that park? Huge. Not quite dead center, but real close. Filled with trees and plants and stuff that the community maintained. I remember my friends and I playing at being Keyblade wielders there—we'd fight squirrels off with sticks."

Skuld laughed, and Sven gave her a wry grin. "Was that something that happened with Daybreak Town Keyblade wielders, too?"

"No, no—well, maybe. But all of us were apprenticed pretty young, so we'd probably use actual Keyblades."

"Stars. Who's giving kids Keyblades?"

The Foretellers, Skuld thought, but didn't say. "Fountain Square was a little like that for us," she said instead. "It wasn't very big, but it was a nice place to hang out after missions. We—had a lot of those. Sometimes we made competitions of them—it was fun, to compete with friends and see who could defeat the most Heartless."

Sometimes, people didn't come back, she doesn't say either, because that had always been a risk, and it was something you learned to live with very early on. But there was something complicated in Sven's expression, like he could hear what she wasn't saying. Maybe he could; Keyblade wielders were common here, after all, and the risks were probably well-known. It was a painful thing to sit with.

"It was complicated," she continued, quiet. "There was a lot that—that people didn't tell us, when we became Keyblade wielders. But it was home. It was where my friends were. And I still—miss it."

Sven went quiet. He stared across the water, to the abandoned towns, and something melancholy entered his expression. "I don't remember much from when the town fell," Sven whispered, and even if Skuld wasn't sure where he was going with this she waited, listening patiently. "I was pretty small, and everything was pretty chaotic. The first real clear memory I have is being here, sitting in a boat while we tried to figure out where we'd go, and asking my mom why we couldn't go back to the park to play." He blinked a couple times, a faint sheen to his eyes. "This place has been my home for longer than that old town was, but that grief's always kind of sat there—the things you lost, and the memories you can't go back to." He shrugged, suddenly looking self-conscious. "Course, I guess it's not quite the same. You were old enough to remember everything, but—guess I'm just trying to say 'I get it,' is all."

It wasn't a commonality she'd really expected them to have—but then, maybe she should've, considering she knew she wasn't the only one who'd lost a home here. "Thanks," she whispered.

After a moment, Sven gave a quiet, warm laugh. "You're alright, Union Leader," he said, and it dragged out a smile, even if it was small.

-Brain stepped into Freya's office and found it empty.

He took it in stride. It might make things easier, all things considered; he wouldn't have to worry about asking for permission.

(Never mind the way guilt still squirmed in his stomach. He wasn't going to be keeping the Keyblade; he just needed to borrow it to figure out where the black box was. He'd return it as soon as he was done. It wasn't like Freya was using it, anyways.

…It didn't entirely get rid of the guilt, but it wouldn't stop him, either.)

Luxu's Keyblade still hung behind Freya's desk—less like a weapon, and more like some sort of ornate decoration from ages passed. He wondered if the edges were still sharp; he could still almost feel them in his chest, jagged and painful along his ribcage.

A quick scramble up the desk brought him high enough that he could reach the hilt if he stretched. He almost fell grabbing it, and fumbled to catch himself, landing ungracefully, the Keyblade dipping sharply.

The hilt was cold at first—lifeless in a way a Keyblade shouldn't be, when it was connected to someone's heart. It started to warm as he held it, and Brain got the impression of a low, hissing sound—almost a whisper, like someone talking. There was power there, but it was muted—buried deep, like the Keyblade was still asleep. The eye on the blade brightened a little; he almost thought he saw the pupil contract, just slightly.

It felt like Master's Defender, in a lot of ways—ancient, powerful, something of legends and not something he was really supposed to have in his hands. But holding it made him feel nauseous in a way holding Master's Defender didn't, and he found he had to look away from that strange eye, covering it with a shaky breath.

When he turned, he found Master Freya standing in the doorway.

He froze, but only for a moment. "Master Freya."

"Master Brain." Her eyes flicked to the Keyblade in his hands. "You shouldn't be claiming things that aren't yours to take."

Even if he logically understood that she was talking about Luxu's Keyblade, he couldn't help thinking she was talking about Master's Defender, and he tried to swallow back the protests. "I'm not. Just borrowing it for a bit."

"Mm." Freya raised an eyebrow, inviting him to explain.

He should. He knew he should. But— "Mimir's back."

"I know. They haven't come back to see me yet—but I saw them out in the city, briefly." A glance at her showed that her eyes had softened, if only a little. She moved into the room, and Brain stood at attention, shifting away and resisting the urge to lift the Keyblade defensively. He got the feeling that Freya noticed anyway from her appraising look. "We've been…busy, lately."

It felt like a non sequitur, but it put Brain on edge. "Have you, now."

"Mm. We've noticed some…disturbances. Increased magic from underneath the city." Freya tapped a foot on the floor, eyes flicking towards Brain.

"Might have something to do with the Darkness trapped under there."

Freya's lips twitched a little; he couldn't tell if it was toward a smile or a frown. "So you were fighting it, then."

"Ephemer's daughter trapped it underneath there originally." Master's Defender warmed in his chest, like it was coming to life. There was a whisper of a voice—friendly, amused, and he found himself speaking before he knew what he was doing: "One of the first Keepers."

How did I…?

Freya looked distinctly less surprised; her expression was trending more towards grim amusement now, and Brain wanted to ask why until she said, "I suppose it doesn't surprise me that you're the one who took Frigga's Keyblade." Brain stiffened, and before he even had the chance to defend himself, Freya continued, "I won't tell her. I'm not sure how you did it—but I've heard Master's Defender is picky. I'll trust its judgment."

"You—" Brain broke off, faltering, because how did she— "What do you know about…?"

Her expression softened into something more sympathetic. "It's part of why few people wield that Keyblade." She nodded toward Luxu's Keyblade, still quietly humming, only half awake, in Brain's hands. "The Keyblade keeps echoes of every heart it's connected to. You cannot willingly access memories, and most of the times, the echoes are little use—nothing more than vague impressions or the presence of others around you—but they are there, all the same. I would assume Master's Defender is similar, given their age—though I suppose Frigga or another wielder would know more." Freya turned away from him, continuing before he could figure out a response. "She wasn't a true Keeper—not like we know them now. But yes, she was close enough. The stories say she blocked off the ruins of Daybreak Town, trapping Darkness underneath the earth and forcing it to sleep. Unfortunately, it wasn't a permanent solution. The more darkness people feed it, the stronger it gets. The stronger it gets, the more likely it is to damage the world."

Brain stayed silent, watching, tense, skin prickling.

"You think that Keyblade can give you answers about whatever you saw—either while looking for Mimir or about Master's Defender." Freya turned back to him, expression intense. "I am not sure that it will—but I doubt anything I say can stop you. So I'll simply give you a warning: be cautious. If you aren't careful, you may find yourself drawn closer to Darkness than you want to be."

He was being careful—or as careful as he could be, given the circumstances. (Darkness has been more active. Maybe it's us, or maybe it's the bluebloods, or—) "Thanks for the advice." He turned to leave, then paused, adding, quiet, "And thanks for—this." He waved Luxu's Keyblade lightly.

He didn't stop to see Freya's reaction; he left as quickly as he could, slipping back through the hallways. He had some…helpers to find.

-Sigurd should really start expecting strange things to happen, at this point. Because even if he wasn't technically assigned to the Union Leaders anymore, they seemed to keep finding him.

Brain stood in front of him, Keeper's Keyblade in his hand and a grim smile on his face. "Hey. You have a moment to help me out with something?"

This chapter probably would've been quicker, except for two things. One: I have Obtained A Puppy, and she's been, uh…a bit of a distraction. Two: There was originally significantly more content in this chapter, but I was struggling to get it to actually do what I wanted it to do. I played around with it for a while, and eventually decided it'd work better if I cut it and incorporated the important bits into later chapters. Which…meant that this chapter became quite a bit shorter than initially intended. I feel a little bit bad about that, but uh, hopefully it's still enjoyable?