Fallen Stars

by Cori Shadowfang

Do you want to hear a story? It's not so much a grand tale as it is a lot of little things. Growing up. Moving on. Healing, or not. And maybe it's also, a little bit, about defying fate, and what the world might do to set things back the way they should be. Mostly, though, it's just a story about two friends. (Brain wasn't the only one who ended up in Scala ad Caelum.)

37. The Trial

'The trial to decide Aegir's fate begins.'

---

Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Trial

Lydia intended to get to Aegir's trial early. Anders hadn't mentioned anything about any plans for the trial date, and Lydia herself wasn't convinced there should be; she was willing to agree that Aegir likely had a point about Frigga and the Union Leaders, but she wasn't willing to risk her neck protecting him when she was certain enough they could do alright on their own.

…Still. It would be important, to see how the trial proceeded. She doubted the council would rule entirely in Aegir's favor; the punishment, however, could give her an idea of whether they felt more favorably toward him or Frigga. It would be insight, at least, to what could happen in the coming days.

And besides, it was better to get there early; it was a member of her family on trial, after all.

The sun was just cresting the horizon when someone knocked on her door.

She had, at first, assumed it was another member of her family, come to collect her—perhaps one of Aegir's associates. She was surprised instead to find Keyblade wielders—three of them, not enough to arouse too much suspicion, but enough to be odd.

It set off warnings, and she found herself shifting into a more wary position, her own Keyblade slowly humming to life in her chest. "Hello," she said, voice cool. "What can I do for you?"

"Master Lydia." The lead wielder inclined her head; she was wearing armor, Lydia noted, and those warnings grew louder. "I'm going to have to ask you to come with us for the time being."

"And why is that?"

"We have been informed that you and several others may have been colluding with Master Aegir; we need to be sure that the trial proceeds as planned."

The first thing she registered was the surge of anger. It banked after a moment, slowly cooling to something a little more manageable—but it didn't make her any less wary. "And who, exactly, told you this?"

"The orders came from Master Osmin."

Frigga. How did she…? Anders, perhaps, wasn't as entirely as genuine as he claimed—though it seemed an awful lot of work if he simply planned to weed them out, anyways. Fafnir, maybe. Or a mole somewhere else.

Regardless— "I won't be coming—not until you've provided solid proof of my wrongdoing."

"Master Lydia—"

Her Keyblade had flashed into her hands in a moment. A Stopga spell followed just as quickly—too quick for the other wielders to react. She slipped past them, heading away from the building at a brisk pace, Keyblade still at hand.

Who else knows? she wondered, slipping away from her usual pathways. Did they send anyone else? Have the others been targeted, as well?

…It would seem she'd need to attend the trial for…slightly different reasons than expected.

---

-Scala ad Caelum was watching.

Frigga thought she was used to the eyes—they had been on her for nearly as long as she could remember. But now, in the silence of the courtroom, she could feel them so much more keenly. The seats were full—a ring around her, hemming her in and preventing the chance for escape. She couldn't make out individual faces; there was a distant part of her that wondered if she'd recognize them, anyways. It made her feel like something was crawling down her spine, and she shifted her shoulders almost unconsciously. (The absence of Master's Defender itched, even if it had been her choice to give it back.)

The other members of the council stared down at her. It felt like an odd reversal of positions; she was used to being up there with them, staring down some individual who was trying to argue their way out of a crime or two quarreling people who they had to sort out some problem for. To be down here instead made her feel strangely…powerless. Vulnerable. Like she was the accused, and not Aegir.

The man in question was across the courtroom, carefully guarded. He met her eyes with a strange sort of calm—but there was a flicker of anger, carefully quelled.

Frigga tilted her head a little, back straight and eyes narrowed. It didn't stop the prickling feeling on the back of her neck, and she folded her hands on top of the platform, one nail pressing carefully into her skin.

"Master Frigga," Bryn said, her voice carrying, and Frigga wrenched her eyes toward her, uncertain if she appreciated the distraction or not. "We ask that you give your account of events. Are you willing to speak?"

The question was more a formality than anything; any speakers would've been talked to before the trial and given their consent. Still, the citizens of Scala ad Caelum would need to hear her words, and so she said, voice clear, "I am."

(She had enough practice to keep her voice steady. It didn't stop her eyes from flicking, briefly, back to the waiting crowd.)

"Will you please provide the council with a summation of your grievances?"

'Grievances.' It felt like too kind a word, in a way it hadn't before. "Of course." Another shift, her eyes pointedly turned away from Aegir. "Master Aegir made an attempt on one of the Union Leaders' lives, kidnapped a student with the intent of using them against the Union Leaders, and has otherwise plotted to cause harm to them, myself, and others on the council."

A low murmuring came from the crowd. Frigga looked not to them, but to the council. Meili and Osmin were the only ones who didn't look particularly surprised or concerned, though both seemed grim. Anders was looking almost queasy; Frigga didn't quite allow herself a smirk, but she did meet his eyes pointedly, and watched as he went pale.

"The challenge was perfectly legal." Aegir, voice lifted in protest. "You accepted it."

"You're speaking out of turn, Aegir," Frigga said, almost more out of habit than anything. "And I'm not speaking of your challenge."

Uncertainty, this time, when she glanced at his face. Frigga could only hope that Osmin's team was moving quickly; this would certainly be an adventure if too many people caught wind of what was happening.

(It would've been better if she hadn't been first—but then, that's part of why she'd wanted the wielders sent out early.)

"Master Frigga," Bryn said, "you aren't in charge of this trial; please leave the handling of the accused to us. Though she is right, Master Aegir; you will have your time."

Frigga inclined her head slightly in acknowledgement, but she thought she could catch whispers from the crowd. (Those eyes bored into her, no matter how much she tried to ignore them.)

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Aegir giving Bryn a slight nod of acknowledgement. Bryn nodded back, then focused on Frigga. "Please elaborate on these accusations, Master Frigga. Provide as detailed an account as possible."

"Of course." She thought back—back to the first time she'd even had an inkling of this happening, before she'd realized the extent of what Aegir had been up to. "Roughly a month and a half ago, Master Aegir called an emergency meeting with the rest of the family. He and Master Skuld had apparently spoken of our family's…uncertain standing in Scala ad Caelum."

The murmurs were a little louder, now. There was unease on some of the faces she could see. She didn't know if they were members of her family, or the everyday citizens of Scala ad Caelum. She wasn't sure it mattered.

(All the cards on the table.)

"Uncertain standing?" Bryn prompted.

"Bryn," Leid said, low but loud enough to carry, "let her give her story."

"The details are important," Bryn argued in that same quiet voice, and Frigga wondered if she shared the same misgivings some of the other citizens of Scala ad Caelum had—that same unease surrounding their family, and what damage they might cause to their home. Had caused to their home, before.

(I won't be the one to cause Scala ad Caelum to fall—no matter what it takes.)

Aegir didn't say anything, but she could feel his glare.

Frigga took a breath. "Our family," she said, and curse her, but her voice wavered a little, anyways. She cleared her throat; it was loud in the sudden quiet. "Our family," she said, deliberate and careful, "has long been in charge of Scala ad Caelum. Master Ephemer built this place from the remains of his old home. He was the first Master of the New Age, and was the one who created the council, the training system—the foundations of our culture itself. His children, and their children, and their children have led Scala ad Caelum ever since. This birthright came with an expectation—that in exchange for our power, we would take care of those who lived in this world.

"We lost sight of that, somewhere along the way."

She paused, and it dawned on her how quiet things had gotten. She looked at the council, flicking across the familiar faces. Meili was staring at her with an expression she couldn't quite read; she thought it might be shock, or hope, or grief—some emotion maybe even they couldn't name. Leid was stiff and still. Anders kept shifting, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Bryn looked…uncertain, like she regretted pushing Frigga for details. She supposed that was fair; she was certainly going to get more than she'd expected.

"The skeletons of abandoned islands litter our world," Frigga continued, "and show just how far we've fallen from the paradise we had in our glory days. And there was a not insignificant amount of that that came about because of our family's mistakes."

"Frigga," Bryn said, finally interrupting her, hesitant, but Frigga lifted a hand. After a moment of contemplative silence, Bryn nodded, giving her the silent signal that she could continue.

Frigga had been over what she'd wanted to say already. She'd thought about it, night after night, as the trial approached. She'd considered how much she wanted to say—how much she'd need to talk about, if she wanted to make sure that the council understood the severity of the situation. If she wanted to make sure that Aegir couldn't do something like this again.

But it wasn't just Aegir—and, in many ways, it hadn't been for a long time. If she wanted to get to the heart of the issue…she needed to acknowledge the truth of things. All of it.

It didn't mean it was going to be any easier to say.

(Forgive me.)

"My family means everything to me," Frigga continued, and she didn't bother to correct the slight wobble this time; if anything, she hoped it made her sound more sincere. "I have always been proud to be a part of it—but it has never been easy. From a young age, you are taught about the connections you must make to maintain your social standing. Our inheritance has been turned from a responsibility to a reward for the simple fortune of our birth—and we have become more preoccupied with maintaining that than with the reason it was bestowed upon us in the first place.

"I was young when the last of the outer islands fell—but I have not forgotten the stories. I always lived here, but I knew family members who'd been forced to flee. They were given refuge in our estates or helped to find places to live, and I thought little of it. Little of the crowded camps down by the docks, except for that the council was overworked trying to find places for them. Little of the way that people fell through the cracks, except for that I'd hear my father complaining about the increased crime in some of the outer districts. Much more of the way our family seemed suddenly hemmed in on all sides, struggling to work together and maintain some sort of power and the constant refrain of the fact that we weren't being the respect we deserved—but very little about how it was our fighting—and our lack of care for the people we were responsible for—that led to the island falling in the first place. The Union Leaders have done much better at listening to those stories in the few months they've been here than I ever had."

She couldn't see them from here—they were waiting for their own turns to speak, hidden beyond the crowd—but she hoped that she could hear her gratitude, and her regret. They had, after all, been the ones to talk to her about their own experiences in preparation for the trial—of their conversations with storykeepers and dock workers and old Keyblade wielders, and of their own tales of what had occurred, both during and after those initial, frightening days.

She had been young when it happened. She might not have understood the extent of it, anyways—and it was hard to truly fault a child for listening to what the adults around her espoused as fact. But she'd become more exposed to it as she'd gotten older—and even then, it'd been easier to ignore. Easier to try and cling to what she'd worked and fought for—what even she'd considered her birthright, at the end of the day.

"I," Frigga said with a breath, "have spent much of my time as the Head of the Council trying to balance the needs of my family with the needs of Scala ad Caelum. I have tried to put family members into positions of power, when I could, to strengthen our position, or make arrangements for land or other assets—trying to maintain a careful balancing act that pleased no one.

"And then the Union Leaders came. These—figures of legend." Figures that were meant to replace me—who would upend everything I'd ever known. "People who could challenge us for power that many already said we didn't deserve. It put our family into a…precarious position. And I passed these concerns along to Master Skuld."

Aegir was, to her surprise, quiet. He simply watched her, something unreadable in his expression.

The one who did surprise her with Anders; he stood, silent, and turned to leave.

"Anders—" Leid started, but was ignored; he slipped out of the courtroom, footsteps too loud in the quiet space.

It felt like everyone was staring at the space where he'd been, watching him go.

Bryn cleared her throat, turning back to Frigga. "Please—proceed."

"Master Skuld had, apparently, taken these concerns to heart, and approached Master Aegir—with the encouragement of a friend—with the intent of resolving them. Master Skuld will likely provide you with the details of that particular meeting when it's her turn to speak; while I am aware of them, I am likely…not the best to pass them along, having not been there. The important part is that negotiations broke down, and Master Skuld refused the offer of an alliance with Master Aegir.

"Aegir brought this information to the attention of the rest of the family, with the intention of doing something to…address concerns about the Union Leaders. It was a bit of an over-reaction, but nothing unusual for our family. I did not realize at the time that he'd already attempted to 'do something' about the Union Leaders—not until I spoke to Meili later."

Meili didn't look surprised to be mentioned—she'd told them at least the bare bones of what she'd had planned, after all. The rest of the council still looked a little ill at-ease, casting glances their way; Meili, for their part, didn't pay them much mind, folding their arms and staring Frigga down. They inclined their head briefly in acknowledgement, and she nodded back.

"Meili has been working with the Union Leaders for quite some time. It started as an assignment for Master Skuld, and slowly grew into a deeper working partnership as unexpected problems arose. One of those was an assassination attempt, ordered by Master Aegir himself."

"They could've been lying." She didn't know who that was; some member of her family, she guessed, their face lost in the crowd. Still, it rang across the room, and it made her skin prickle with unease. "You only have their word for it."

Bryn lifted a hand. "There will be a chance for the public to comment later," she said. She was watching Frigga intently, something uncertain in her expression.

"They could've been," Frigga agreed, "but it seems unlikely. Several witnesses were present for the assassination attempt—aside from Master Skuld herself, those include her friends Kvasir and Mimir, the Keeper's apprentice Odin, and the apprentice's grandfather. Moreover, according to several sources—including Kvasir, Master Aegir's nephew, whom he was quite close to—Aegir himself admitted to the claim. This was further verified by Mimir—the primary apprentice of the Head Keeper, chosen for their unique ability to use heart magic." She heard the quiet murmur that went through the crowd and levelled Aegir with a look. "An ability that lets you see into the memories and emotions of others—including things such as where they obtained a contract." Frigga eyed Aegir with a raised eyebrow. "I've been informed that there payments have been rendered to an individual named 'Tyr' for these services—you should be able to find them, if you search through Master Aegir's estate."

Aegir narrowed his eyes at her—assuming that she'd been the one to search through his estate, she guessed. She wouldn't dissuade him; she couldn't imagine it would reflect well on Brain if the council knew that he'd broken into Aegir's estate and searched for information on his own.

"Of course, they aren't the only ones to have witnessed Master Aegir's crimes," Frigga said, smiling mirthlessly. "Several wielders witnessed Aegir's…breakdown when I went to investigate him after Meili's revelation. Which, I would like to point out, he attacked us over, putting the citizens of Scala ad Caelum at risk as he ran."

She could see people shifting out of the corner of her eye—citizens murmuring agreement, people looking wary, like they weren't sure what exactly she was going to try and propose.

"Thank you, Master Frigga," Bryn said, dipping her head to her. "Did you have any evidence—"

"I am not done."

Bryn fell quiet.

Aegir was staring at her. She wondered if he'd figured out that she'd discovered his plan—if he knew that it was going to fall apart from underneath him. Or, at least, she hoped it would, if everything proceeded accordingly.

Anders wasn't in the stands anymore—she could only imagine what his reaction would've been, if he had stayed there. Fafnir was, though, and Frigga's eyes flicked to Leid. She wondered where she fell in all of this—whose side she would fall on, when everything started falling apart.

…She supposed she'd have to see.

"While Aegir was imprisoned," Frigga continued, "it came to light that he was plotting with Anders and several other members of the family to continue his plans to remove the Union Leaders and myself, specifically using the upcoming Founder's Festival as a cover."

The uproar rose before Frigga had even finished speaking, her voice lifting to make herself heard over the chaos. Frigga closed her eyes briefly, trying to block out the sound of it.

When she opened her eyes, she found Aegir staring at her. He was still, infuriatingly, calm, and it gave her pause. I would've thought you'd be rattled. What, exactly, are you up to?

"Frigga," Bryn said, and Frigga barely heard her through the chaos, her voice was so quiet, "that's a major accusation—especially for another member of the council."

"I know," Frigga agreed, her voice just as low, "but it needed to be known." Her voice lifted, cutting through the noise with years of practice speaking to the crowd. "We have spent too long abusing our power, our own politics and infighting bringing more misery than necessary—and I will not let it happen again. Not now, and not going forward."

The room's noise dulled to a quiet hum. Bryn was staring at her with an uncertain expression, like she knew that Frigga was going somewhere with this, but she wasn't sure where.

Aegir, however, seemed to have caught on. "And what exactly are you implying, Frigga?"

She didn't look at him; her words weren't for him, but for her family a large. She, finally, tried to pick them out of the crowd—some of her allies, standing around the edges or sitting in the stands, watching her like they weren't quite sure they liked where she was going with this. Others that she wasn't sure had been swayed one way or another—some young, some old, all blending together.

"For a long time," Frigga said, "we have relied on our heritage to give us a claim to power. But Master Ephemer was just a person—someone who did something incredible, certainly, but not the legendary hero we've made him out to be. Perhaps it is time we stopped focusing so much on legends, and started focusing on whether or not we are actually showing the same merit."

(She thought of Skuld and Brain, somewhere she couldn't see. The burden of their legends would probably never entirely lift off their shoulders—but perhaps they could strip it away long enough they could have something more than the hand they'd been dealt. Give them a chance to stop being heroes and start being children.)

"You?" Aegir again, voice lifted in an incredulous, mocking lilt. "You are the one who'd suggest we give up power, when you have clung to it so strongly?"

Frigga didn't look at him, but she allowed herself a smirk. "Master Aegir—you remember your challenge, don't you?"

"Of course," he said, but his voice had become, briefly, uncertain.

"Then surely you remember that Master's Defender disappeared during that fight?"

Aegir went silent.

Frigga, finally, looked back at him. "Tell me—can you summon it?"

There was something in his expression that looked a little like confusion. A little like fear. After a beat he shook his head, slow and uncertain.

"Neither can I."

There was an uneasiness in the air; Frigga could feel it, settling across her shoulders like a blanket. "Master's Defender has always been the leader's Keyblade. It is a picky thing, choosing those who are most worthy of leadership—and it has not gone to any member of our family."

Her smile was mirthless. She could feel the weapon's absence like a hole in her chest, the ache dripping.

(She wouldn't stop now.)

"Master Brain is the Keyblade's current wielder," Frigga continued, and when she looked at Aegir, she thought she finally saw what looked to be fear pulling down his features. "Tell me, Aegir—do you really want to be responsible for harming Scala ad Caelum's rightful leader?"

---

-They had discussed a lot of things before coming to Aegir's trial. What order they'd likely be called in, and what each of them would bring to the table. Whether they wanted to go all in, or focus solely on Aegir, and worry about the rest of the bluebloods later. What they would do if they found out that something went wrong with their plans to apprehend the bluebloods—Kvasir would run interference, with Skuld's Spirit and Chirithy helping the rest of them juggle who needed to stay at the trial, and who needed to leave.

They hadn't, however, discussed this.

Brain's expression was very carefully blank, but Skuld could see his hands shaking, fists clenched so hard they'd gone white.

Cautiously, Skuld reached out a hand to touch his. "Are you alright?"

He blinked. Took a breath. Carefully shoved his hands into his pockets. "…Fine."

Skuld frowned at him. "Brain."

"Not a lot we can do about it now, right?"

"But it bothers you."

Brain huffed a sardonic laugh. "I wish she would've told me—I could've told her I didn't want this." Another laugh. "Guess that's probably why she didn't."

"I can't believe she actually did it," Kvasir breathed. "She's always been proud to be the Head of the Council; I didn't think she'd—" He broke off, casting Brain a sheepish look. "But, uh—I suppose it could've been done under better circumstances."

Brain hummed. "Wish she'd chosen a better time for character growth."

There was an edge of something there that Skuld couldn't quite place; she frowned, wondering if it was something she should pursue or not.

Mimir tensed. She had half a moment to wonder why before they'd summoned their Keyblade, snapping around.

Skuld reacted on instinct—and so did the others, for that matter. Light flashed as Keyblades materialized, weapons all swinging to point towards—

It's them.

It felt like Skuld's nerves had all been set on fire at once. Brain muttered a barrier spell, putting a protective ring between them and their opponent. Skuld shifted her stance, Starlight humming in her grip, and Kvasir and Mimir moved to cover the gaps.

In front of them stood a figure that was very, very reminiscent of the assassin that Aegir had sent after them. They weren't quite the same—slightly taller and broader build, clothes a different color—but they had the same hood, the same mask. We didn't even know they were here until Mimir reacted, Skuld thought, suppressing a shiver, heart jack-rabbit fast behind her ribcage. They could've taken one of us out easily, and we wouldn't have known until it was too late. The thought made her feel jittery, and she pressed a little closer to the rest of them, Keyblade lifting higher.

The assassin lifted their hands slowly. "Easy. I'm not here to fight today."

"Come to watch the show, then?" Brain asked, voice and smile tight. "Your employer's not fairing so well."

"We have certainly been informed of Master Aegir's…situation." They incline their head a little, like they were trying to look past them and into the courtroom. "It is…a part of the reason why we're here."

Skuld's eyes narrowed. It can't be. Sven said he'd try to set up a meeting—but now, of all times?

The assassin turned to focus on her, gesturing a little in a 'weapons down' motion. "We heard that you wanted to talk with us," they said, voice careful. "We deliberated if we should agree or not. Master Aegir is a…particularly important benefactor of ours. It's not a contract that we're anxious to break. So we decided to wait until the trial to learn more about his…current status."

"And you figure it's not going well," Brain surmised dryly.

Mimir shifted a little, eyes narrowed.

"Can you get a read on them?" Skuld whispered, trying to keep them in her peripherals.

Mimir pursed their lips. They closed their eyes a moment; their breath stuttered, and then blinked them open again, shaking their head quickly.

"We would be…interested in hearing what you have to say," the assassin continued, and Skuld wrenched her gaze back toward them, trying to put her concern for Mimir toward the back of her mind. "The others have come with me, if you're still interested in a meeting."

"Now?" Skuld asked, incredulous. "Aegir's still on trial."

Brain narrowed his eyes. "It'd sure be convenient for him, huh," he said, "if we weren't around to give our side of the story."

She couldn't see the assassin's face, but she could almost imagine them smiling. "I suppose it would."

No denial—which meant that this was definitely one of Aegir's schemes, then, at least in part. But they could've attacked us, and they didn't. It seems like that might've been easier—but then again, maybe they just didn't want to draw attention.

Mimir moved beside her. Skuld's eyes flicked towards them, surprised—and then they widened as they pointedly extended a hand, face tight.

The assassin tilted their head. "You're the one with heart magic, aren't you?"

Mimir's expression darkened a little, but they nodded.

"My comrade informed me about you. Said you caused them…quite a bit of stress." They tilted their head. "I suppose that's what you want to do to me—to check and see if I'm being honest?"

"Mimir," Kvasir murmured, looking nervous, but after a beat his expression steeled, and he stepped up behind them, Keyblade held low.

Mimir lifted their chin. They cast a brief look behind them—back to Skuld and Brain, still watching warily.

Brain's breath hissed through his teeth. "You really think you want to try that, huh?"

They nodded, expression set stubbornly.

Brain gave them a look that said he wasn't sure he wanted to be part of this, but after a reluctant moment he waved Master's Defender. The barrier spell fell, but Skuld thought she could still feel energy humming from Brain's Keyblade, like he was ready to act at a moment's notice.

Mimir stuck their hand out a little further, eyes narrowed pointedly.

The assassin watched them. After a beat, they extended their hand, clasping Mimir's in their own.

Mimir twitched, a little. Their eyes looked a little too wide, face a little too pale. But they took a breath, free hand clenched tightly around their Keyblade; Kvasir murmured something to them, and they relaxed a little.

And then they blinked, giving the assassin a mystified look. They released their hand, stumbling back a little.

Skuld went to steady them. "Okay?" she mouthed.

They nodded, still blinking rapidly. Their Keyblade disappeared, and they lifted their hands, signing shakily, "It's real—they want to talk."

It took some of the burden off of Skuld's shoulders, at least, and she found herself relaxing, even if only a little. But— "Can we wait until after the trial?" she asked. "Or at least until after I've finished speaking." She was supposed to be next, she knew; she didn't know what point Frigga was at, but she knew she'd been winding down when she'd last heard her. She would have to go out there before too long; she couldn't afford to miss this.

"I'm afraid none of us are particularly inclined to stick around very long," the assassin said, folding their arms behind their back nonchalantly. "We have…reason to be distrustful of Scala ad Caelum at large. If you want to meet with us, it has to be now."

Skuld grit her teeth. "We can't."

"Then I suppose it wasn't that important, after all." The assassin dipped their head. "Disappointing." They turned, like they were intending to leave, and something in Skuld's chest seized.

"Wait."

The assassin paused, head tilted in her direction.

"Give us a moment to talk it over." She gestured for the others to come closer. Brain frowned, giving the assassin a pointed stare, but shifted a little closer. Mimir turned, blinking like they were still trying to come back to themself; Kvasir stuck close to them, but gave an uneasy look to the courtroom, like he was trying to see what was going on.

"We can't afford to let them go," Skuld said in a low voice. "If there's a way we can keep them from getting involved—"

"But it's not going to look good if we're missing from the trial, either," Kvasir murmured, looking uncertain. "It might not be a problem if myself or even Mimir weren't here—but you and Brain are Union Leaders. Both of you have to speak."

"We could go," Mimir signed. "That way, you guys don't miss anything."

"It was my idea," Skuld pointed out. "And we don't know if they'll talk if it's just you guys."

The silence spoke volumes. Kvasir and Mimir exchanged glances, but seemed to come to the same conclusion: neither of them could offer the same bargaining power that a Union Leader had.

"Well," Brain said, "it's not like we didn't prepare for the chance that something could go wrong, right? We had to think about what we'd do if the bluebloods caused problems and dragged us away; we can just modify that plan."

"You shouldn't go alone, though," Kvasir pointed out, glancing at Skuld. "If something happens—"

Right. Better to have at least one of them with her, so the others wouldn't have to rush over if something went wrong. "Brain can't come," she said, giving her friend an apologetic look. "We need at least one of us here."

Brain inclined his head in acknowledgement, but she thought she could see a flicker of worry in his expression.

Skuld swallowed, glancing at the other two. Between them, Kvasir was less necessary to the trial; he was there to help expand on their stories, but he didn't directly have any conflict with his uncle. Mimir's heart magic, however, would be much more useful with the assassins—at the very least, it could give them an early warning if something went wrong.

Both of them seemed to realize where her mind was going; Mimir gave her a tense look, but nodded, signing, "I'll go."

Kvasir gave her a sad, worried sort of smile—and then snapped around, eyes furrowed with worry as he glanced toward the courtroom. "I think Aunty Frigga's finishing."

"Then we need to move." Skuld turned toward Brain. "Can you—"

"Take over your spot? Yeah, I'm on it." He waved Master's Defender almost lazily, smile grim. "Guess if Frigga's going to give me such a great introduction, I might as well put it to use." He gave her a serious look. "But be careful." His eyes flicked to Mimir. "Both of you."

Skuld gave him a tentative smile. "We will be."

Brain hummed an acknowledgement, but paused long enough to give them a look that said he hoped she actually meant that. And then he turned, heading out to the courtroom with Master's Defender held stiffly at his side.

Skuld tapped her bag. Her Spirit slid out, giving a quiet trill. She scratched its chin, then handed it to Kvasir. "We'll give you a head's up if something goes wrong," she promised, glancing at Kvasir. "In the meantime, stall—or come get us, if we need to get back. The Spirit should be able to get you to the right place."

Kvasir nodded, giving one last uneasy look to the still-waiting assassin. "I…have to agree with Brain. This is risky, but…" He paused, giving them a shaky smile. "I suppose if anyone could do it, it'd be you two."

Skuld smiled back, and it felt just as unsure. Then she took a breath, turning around and heading back toward the assassin, Mimir in tow.

The assassin inclined their head. "I suppose you've come to a decision?"

"We have." Skuld's eyes flicked, briefly, toward Mimir. Their expression was set stubbornly, and for a very brief moment, she thought she could see the ghost of a familiar figure. It was gone in a flash, but it relaxed something in her, a little, to feel like she was going into this with the help of an old friend. "We'll talk."

"Good to hear." The assassin turned, head tilting in a 'follow me' gesture. "The others are waiting. We didn't want to have this conversation too close to prying eyes—I hope you understand."

It set off warning bells, and Skuld almost protested. But Mimir confirmed they really do want to talk—and we'll probably need to give a gesture of good faith. "Lead the way."

The assassin studied her a moment, then nodded, turning and leading them down the hallway, and away from the noise of the courtroom.

---

-"This is all going wrong."

Anders footsteps were too loud in the quiet halls. The courtroom—so loud, filled to the brim with spectators—seemed suddenly very distant, and the rest of the Clock Tower seemed a little like a ghost town. He wasn't sure where he was heading—just away, where he could hopefully gather his thoughts and come up with some sort of plan of action.

"She wasn't supposed to know—she wasn't supposed to make such a ridiculous—"

"Know what, Anders?"

He whipped around, only to find himself face to face with Lydia.

(She had her Keyblade out, he noted distantly. It was stiff at her side—not yet lifted to fight, but tense, like she could turn at a moment's notice. It made his skin prickle, nerves tingling down his spine.)

"Lydia," he said, smoothing his clothes out, like he could somehow brush away his unease. "Did you follow me from the trial?"

"I never made it to the trial, Anders. Do you want to know why?"

Answering felt, very suddenly, dangerous, and he found his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

(He was suddenly, acutely aware of the fact that he did not have a Keyblade to defend himself with.)

"Keyblade wielders showed up at my home to arrest me. This morning. Long before the trial was set to start."

"Frigga knows," Anders blurted, like an aborted attempt to save himself. (It was his fault, wasn't it? He'd approached her, thinking he had an ally, but—

No, no, it couldn't just be him—not if she had names. But—)

"I'm aware," Lydia said, her voice very dangerous. "I imagine so are many others who have, rather unexpectedly, found themselves facing the prospects of arrest and banishment."

Her voice was rising, echoing off the empty halls. Everything seemed to darken, just a little. Out of the corner of his eye, Anders thought he could see something dark, creeping down from the ceiling.

"We can salvage this," Anders said quickly. "We—she couldn't have gotten to everyone. There have to be others out there, and—and she has this plan, this idea that we shouldn't be in power anymore, and that could turn others against her—"

"That would be more encouraging," Lydia said, voice almost a growl, "if I hadn't had to run from Keyblade wielders, with no idea who else may be waiting to capture me."

"So we move early," Anders said, speaking so quickly he nearly tripped over himself. "We just—we move now. Go find everyone you can. I will—try to buy you time. But we can still do this—we still have a way forward."

Lydia still didn't look happy; she straightened, and the Keyblade edged a little closer, uncomfortably threatening. "I will move," she said, voice low, "because we have no choice—but mark my words, Anders, there will be discussions after this."

She left almost as quickly as she came. It was likely Anders's imagination, but it seemed like she disappeared into the shadows.

…He needed to get back to the courtroom.

---

-When Brain stepped into the courtroom, everything went silent. Master's Defender was heavy in his hand; his thumb ran along the handle, feeling the imprints of previous wielders. He thought he could catch whispers, just at the edge of his hearing: we're with you it's okay stand strong wielder.

He stepped onto the stand and, very slowly, let his eyes rove over the crowd. They were all staring back at him—or, more accurately, at Master's Defender, held carefully at his side. He lifted it in a casual wave, watching as countless eyes tracked the movement. "Well. Figured we could get that out of the way. No need to drag out the questions, yeah?"
Master's Defender disappeared with a flash. It was still warm in his chest, a heavy, humming weight, but he almost wanted to summon it again, if only to have the familiar presence. He breathed out slowly, thumb running over his palm.

…It wasn't hard to figure out why Frigga had done what she had—and why she hadn't told him about it in the first place. In one regard, it felt like such a far step from what things had been before that it was almost touching. But on the other—

I kind of doubt I have much longer here—and even if I did, I don't think I'd want to be the Head of the Council.

Something ugly curdled in his stomach, twisting upward to curl around his ribs and file his throat with bile. He couldn't quite identify the feeling, a bitter, tired sort of thing that pulled on his bones and made his shoulders feel heavy.

(He didn't have much time left. Maybe, if everything went well today—but he couldn't count on that. In just a few days—)

He took a breath and lifted his head. Most of the council was staring at him with some level of uncertainty. Only Meili didn't look shocked—concerned, maybe. Grim. But not particularly surprised.

He huffed, tugging his hat down a little. "Well? We're here to figure out what to do with this guy, right?" He nodded toward Aegir, who was looking at him peculiarly. "Want me to just start?"

"I—yes, Master Brain." Bryn cleared her throat, appearing to come back to herself. "We ask that you give your account of events. Are you willing to speak?"

"Yeah. Just said I would, didn't I?"

"I'm aware. Will you please—"

The door behind the council's stands swung open. Most shifted, turning like they were half-expecting some sort of attack—but it was just Anders, hurrying back to his seat and looking unexpectedly harried.

Brain cocked his head.

"Anders," Bryn said, slowly, and there was something a little dangerous in her voice. "It's nice of you to rejoin us."

Anders sat, but only on the edge of his seat, like he was ready to jump up again, if the need arose. He was pale, one knee jittering. "Sorry, I—sorry. I was…caught up in the heat of the moment." He lifted his head, focusing his attention on Brain. "I thought that Master Skuld was going to be the next to speak?"

"That was the intention," Bryn said, though she still looked slightly put out, "as she had the most direct interaction with Master Aegir."

"Didn't call a name, right?" Brain asked, flashing a sharp smile. "Figured if Frigga's going to talk about my Keyblade, I might as well get the questions out of the way."

Anders's eyebrows furrowed, but after a moment he scoffed, shaking his head. "Always doing your own thing—never any concern for what anyone else is doing."

"Got a problem with me, Anders?" Brain made a sweeping motion in front of him. "Might as well air it out. That's what we're here for, right? Working these issues out."

His eyes flicked, briefly, in the direction he'd come from. He couldn't actually see the others from here, which grated on him. He didn't know how long he'd need to stall, or how—

Something pawed at his leg, and he thought he caught a little chirp. He glanced down, and caught a Spirit twining around his feet.

He almost laughed, but managed to smother it to a smile. Alright. Guess Skuld's on it.

…Now if she can get back here before I have to deal with Anders for too long.

"You were assigned to work with me." Anders, it seemed, was all too happy to jump at the offered distraction. "At your own request. And then you very rarely actually stopped in to help with the council. When you did, most of what you'd do was argue, then go off on your own to—to do whatever you felt like doing."

"Anders—" Bryn said, warning.

"Explore other worlds looking for my friends, mostly. Before Skuld got here."

"Yes. Friends who might not even be coming back."

It was a stinging blow, even if Brain was intentionally trying to distract him. He could feel his shoulders go stiff, and he made a conscious effort to relax them.

"You had a responsibility to the citizens of Scala ad Caelum—to helping us run this city and protecting them. And instead of that—"

"Anders," Bryn snapped, "that's enough."

"—instead of that," Anders continued, voice lifting over Bryn's, "you avoid meetings, argue with council members, and get into a fight with one of our staff when one of your secret projects goes awry."

"Did it ever occur to you that I didn't want to be a part of the council?"

It was a truth he'd long held close to his chest, but one he'd never planned to speak. It wasn't even something he'd entirely let himself acknowledge, when he'd first arrived here. He'd been a Union Leader; of course he'd be part of the council. So what if he didn't know anything about what Scala was like? So what if he was still reeling from the loss of his friends and world? It gave him something to focus on, right—even if he didn't really have the energy for it.

…But if he had the choice…he'd really like to just spend his life away from all this. With his friends.

…It wasn't like he had ever been good enough to be a leader, anyways. Look at what happened to Daybreak Town.

The little Spirit was a warm weight on his feet, purring with surprising intensity. He hadn't entirely realized that he'd started gripping the stand, but he had, so hard that his knuckles had gone white. He blinked away the blurriness of his vision, lifting his head again.

That was about the point when he realized he must've said at least some of that out loud. Bryn was looking at him with her mouth half open, eyes wide, protests forgotten. Meili's frown had deepened, and they looked like they weren't sure if they should interfere or not. Brain glanced away from them, briefly, toward the watching crowd. He thought he caught some expressions of unease, and some of pity, and some of confusion, and then he looked away, before he could see any more.

The little Spirit made a quiet mrrp noise, clambering its way up to his shoulder and rubbing its head against his cheek. He managed a short, tired laugh, scratching it behind its ears.

Anders looked, amazingly, at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing as he seemed to try and figure out what to say. "You—" He broke off, staring almost dumbfounded. "You're a legend."

"Right. Well, I have news for you, but the legends left out some important details." Master's Defender flashed back into his hand. The metal was worn with age; he could feel the weight of countless other wielders, all pressing down on his shoulders. "I couldn't exactly do much for anyone, in the end."

(But maybe I can do something to protect the world, this time. Actually live up the legend you all have built for me.)

(…Maybe I can do something for my friends, too. So they don't have to live in the shadow of this, even when I'm gone.)

His grip on Master's Defender tightened a little. His throat tightened, and he cleared it, gradually putting his thoughts in order. "Frigga had the right idea. I might not have been at every council meeting, but I was at enough. You guys were so concerned with getting your family members in positions of power that you didn't always focus on taking care of Scala, either. Isn't that right, Anders?" He flashed a sharp smile at the council member, who didn't look like he had anything to say to that. "Quite frankly, I don't think any of you should have power just because you were related to the guy who founded the place. I don't think I should have power just because I was a Union Leader once."

"Master's Defender chose you." That was Bryn, this time, looking mystified.

"Master's Defender was my Keyblade first." He shrugged. "It doesn't actually mean anything; I was just familiar to it." He shrugged, and he wasn't sure if the weight on his shoulders felt heavier or lighter. "Me, Skuld, the bluebloods—why not let the legends just stay legends? Give us a chance to rest and figure out what we want to do." His eyes flicked to the crowd. "Some of you remember losing a home. You know what it's like. How would you have felt getting thrown into this?" He gestured broadly, and he thought he could hear the quiet murmurs of uncertainty—see the unease, dragged across several faces.

"You're…saying you wouldn't want to lead Scala ad Caelum?" Bryn said slowly.

"Nope. Frigga's actually not doing a half-bad job at it—let her keep the position. She might not be my favorite person, but she's not a bad leader." He flashed a sharp grin. "Unlike some people."

Anders seemed to realize that was directed at him, because he stiffened, looking vaguely offended.

"I…can't speak for Skuld," Brain added, quieter. "But I figure—why not actually ask her, instead of assuming?"

There was a heavy silence hanging over the courtroom. It…wasn't the sort of distraction Brain had been planning on, but…maybe it would work out alright.

(Please. Let me do something worthwhile, for once.)

"The kid's got a point."

His head snapped up at Meili's voice. They were looking at him with an expression that said they were probably going to talk about this later, and he thought with a grim sort of amusement that, at the very least, his plan might get him out of that awkward conversation. "They're kids—they should have the chance to be kids. Let them decide if they want to be part of the council or not after they've grown up a little."

"They were leaders—" Anders started.

"When they didn't have a choice. It doesn't have to be that way now, does it?" Meili folded their arms, raising an eyebrow. "And both he and Frigga are right about you lot. I haven't exactly forgotten how hard I had to fight after I told you guys about my heritage—or the fact that both Skuld and Kvasir were blatantly given their positions to replace me."

The atmosphere in the courtroom felt uneasy, suddenly. Meili caught Brain's eye, a question in their expression, and it took Brain a moment to realize they were probably trying to figure out why he was pursuing this train of thought. He tapped the Spirit lightly, hoping Meili got the message.

Meili gave him an exasperated look, so. He assumed.

"While this is…enlightening," Bryn said, seeming to make a conscious effort to reign the conversation back in, "this is a trial for Master Aegir. We can discuss other concerns later, if everyone is so inclined."
"It's—perhaps we should keep talking about it, if it's such a big concern—" Anders started.

"No, she's right," Brain interrupted, casting him a curious look. Why do you want to keep the conversation going? "Aegir's the bigger problem right now."

He couldn't quite place the expression on Aegir's face; it didn't look as bothered as he thought it would be, which was a bit…unnerving.

He turned back to Bryn, lifting his head, but kept Aegir in his peripherals. What are you two planning?

Bryn cleared her throat, straightening her back and shoulders. "Right. Master Brain, please give a summation of your grievances…"

---

-Lydia ducked back away from the streets, hiding herself away from a small patrol of Keyblade wielders. She wasn't entirely sure they were looking for her—but then, they very well might be. Or the others.

She stayed very quiet, waiting until they passed. She stepped out of hiding once their footsteps had faded, slipping across the street. Ridiculous, she thought, and could feel the simmering fury, deep inside her chest. We should've never let it get to this point. We should've been more careful.

But I suppose it doesn't matter now. We have to act, or else everything will fall apart.

Something moved off to her side. She stepped into the shadows, prepared to summon her Keyblade and defend herself if needed—but at a closer glance, she realized it was a familiar figure, fleeing from their home much like she had done this morning.

She reached out and grabbed their arm, tugging them into the shadows, and they fought at first, only relaxing when they turned and realized who'd grabbed them. "Lydia?"

She inclined her head. "Keep quiet," she warned, releasing them.

"What's happening? I was told I was under arrest—"

"Frigga found out." She glanced behind them, eyes narrowed. "How closely were you being followed?"

"I—not too closely, I don't think. But—"

"Good." She turned toward them, eyes narrowed. "Then help me find the others—whoever you can. We'll be meeting back at the Clock Tower. Frigga's forced our hand; we're moving now."

---

-The assassins had chosen a room that looked like it'd be an office, once, but had seemingly been changed into storage at some point, based on the desk and filing cabinets and piles of assorted supplies that cluttered the floor. There were five of them, that Skuld could see; she cast a glance at Mimir, who gave her a quick nod, and she relaxed a little. Good. At least we don't have to worry about anyone coming to surprise us.

…It didn't entirely put her at ease, though.

She found her eyes straying toward the assassin furthest from them, pressed back against the wall. They were the most familiar of the group—the one that had attacked them that night, when everything had really started to go downhill. They wouldn't look at them, head tilted so far away it was like they were trying to bury it in the wall. Skuld found it hard to keep her eyes of them.

(Mimir, too, from the looks of things; their eyes had honed in on them the moment they'd entered and very nearly refused to leave.)

"This," the lead assassin said, and Skuld wrenched her gaze toward them, "is our…humble group."

"Only you five?" Skuld asked, startled.

"It's easier to move around if we keep our numbers…light."

"It's not like we're actively hiring," another assassin muttered. "We're all here for a reason."

Skuld cast her a curious look; she seemed sullen, arms folded, back stiff. "A friend of mine said he heard something about you being disgraced bluebloods."

The assassin stiffened.

The leader chuckled, but there was a bit of an edge to it, and Skuld found herself tensing, wondering if she'd already started this off on the wrong foot. "We…used to be members of the family, yes. They cut ties with us for various reasons." They pointed at themself. "Political scheming." They glanced to the assassin at their right. "Born out of wedlock." To the left. "Disagreements with how the family was running things." To the furthest assassin. "Wrong place and wrong time—got too close to messing up some family politics."

"They don't need our life stories," the woman beside them cut in. "Just get on with it, Tyr. They're here to talk to us—let them say what they have to say, then let's get out of here."

Tyr. The one Brain had seen the bill for, then.

Tyr inclined their head. "Very well," they agreed. "I suppose it would be better not to delay." They waved toward Skuld. "Say your piece."

Skuld swallowed, then took a deep breath. It's okay. You've thought about this. You talked this over with the others. You know what to say.

…I just hope that they'll listen.

Mimir moved, stepping up to stand beside her. Skuld flashed them a grateful look, then straightened and turned her attention to the assassins. "We have a deal for you."

"We figured as much," someone said—the one on the far left, it seemed like, his voice nearly devoid of emotion.

Skuld glanced at him only briefly, then turned her attention back to Tyr. "We know that you've been working closely with Aegir—but he's on trial, now, with enough evidence against him that it's likely he won't be able to get out of some sort of punishment. He'll likely be stripped of his power and funds, at least—so whatever deal you have with him will probably fall through." She gave Tyr a pointed look. "But I'm guessing you saw that for yourself."

The assassin directly to their left folded her arms a little tighter, looking away. Skuld thought she could hear muttering coming from the one at their right.

Tyr inclined their head, but stayed silent.

"We can fill in that gap. Brain and I are Union Leaders, and we have close ties with Master Frigga. Whatever Aegir's paying you, we can meet or exceed it."

"So you can have us do your dirty work," the assassin to Tyr's left cut in. "Nice to have a group like us in your pocket, right?"

"No," Skuld answered immediately, and she could almost see the woman's surprise. "We don't want you to attack anyone—that's actually what we're trying to stop." Her eyes swept across the group, and she forced her back to stay straight, head lifted. "What we want is your agreement that you won't hunt us down—and that, if fighting happens at any point over the next few days, you stay out of it."

Silence, then. She could almost feel Tyr studying them behind their mask. "You know."

It wasn't a question, but Skuld answered, anyways. "We do."

"I suppose that's why you were so…anxious to have a meeting." Tyr rubbed their chin. "It's a generous offer—especially for something that seems like such a small request." They tilted their head. "There's more you aren't telling us."

Skuld tried to ignore Mimir tensing behind her. "What do you know about Darkness?"

"Darkness," one of the assassins repeated skeptically.

"Not the normal kind," Skuld clarified quickly. "This is…ancient. It can think and act on its own. It's what we fought, back in Daybreak Town—and it's what tore our home apart."

She could feel the shift, then—the way all of them seemed to come to attention, focusing on her with a little more intensity.

"It's still here," Skuld continued. "Below Scala ad Caelum, in the ruins of Daybreak Town." Just talking about it made a shiver run down Skuld's spine, a bitter taste filling her mouth. "From the sounds of it, it never left."

"And what do we have to do with that?" one of the assassins hissed.

"How do you know?" another asked, voice whisper-soft.

Tyr's head tilted, and after a beat, they murmured, "I've heard…stories. That when the last of the outer towns fell, it was consumed by shadows. Heartless are said to still haunt its streets."

"They do," Skuld agreed, and she could feel the weight of it, settling on her chest. "We've seen them. And—" she broke off, glancing at Mimir. They looked at her, pale, but nodded, and she took a breath. "We've fought it, trying to—"

"It took them—the kid in the back."

The voice came out quick and jumbled, like the owner needed to get the words out as quickly as possible. Skuld snapped toward the last assassin—the one that had attacked them. They still wouldn't look their way, their shoulders hunched near their ears.

Tyr's head tilted in their direction. "You know about this."

Their shoulders hunched higher, but they continued, "It's real—I've seen it. They're telling the truth."

It wasn't an ally that she'd expected. It left her feeling a little off-kilter—but she wasn't going to protest, if it got them the results they needed.

"So what?" another assassin snapped. "That still doesn't explain what this has to do with us."

"The last time Darkness got out, it was because of a lot of fighting—between the bluebloods, from the sounds of it."

She could almost see the dots connecting in Tyr's head. "You think if we're involved with the fighting, it'll be worse."

"Yes," Skuld said, quiet. "We've been trying to find everyone who's involved with Aegir's plans and detain them—but it's easier if we can do things peacefully. If fights do break out, then the fewer people that are involved, the better. That way, we can hopefully mitigate the problem."

She could almost see them thinking it over—but it didn't have the immediate reaction that she'd hoped.

"Please," she said. "Scala ad Caelum is your home. If Darkness gets free, there won't be anywhere to run to this time. Whatever business you run—it's not going to matter, if there isn't anything here."

"What does it matter?" snapped the assassin to Tyr's left. "What has Scala ad Caelum ever done for us? If it falls, fine—we'll just fall with it."

Skuld caught movement out of the corner of her eye; she turned in time to see Mimir sign, "Why are you so loyal to Aegir?" They looked frustrated, expression creased, mouth curled.

The assassin made a grumbling sound. "Aegir—I'm loyal to him out of obligation, at this point. He hasn't exactly made good on his deal."

Skuld's eyebrows furrowed.

"Our relationship with Aegir is…a bit unique, compared to the standard contract." Tyr glanced to their left; the other assassin looked at them, then turned away, grumbling quietly. "When we lost ties with our family, we lost many of our resources. Homes. Money. Food. We banded together to survive, but it was not a…stable life. You most likely know us simply as assassins, but we are much more than that. We can be bodyguards. Debt collectors. Document forgers. Even hired hands, if people need general laborers. We often found ourselves taking on the less…savory jobs to help us get the money to get by.

"And then Aegir found us."

There was something almost reverent in Tyr's voice, and it made Skuld's skin prickle.

"Master Aegir…promised to provide us with funding. Food, and shelter. But more importantly, he promised to help us become a part of the family again. All we had to do was work with him—do his bidding, no matter what he asked of us."

"Like his personal servants," the assassin to his left muttered, but she didn't seem inclined the interrupt entirely.

Skuld glanced at her, but she could feel a prickling sense of unease. "How…long have you had this contract?"

"Years. Long before you or your friend appeared in Scala ad Caelum."

Years. A contract that wasn't just payment, but the promise of returning to their old life—something that had been going on for years—

Wait. "If you've been in this contract for years," Skuld said, "why hasn't Aegir held up his end of the deal."

Silence, then—and it made Skuld acutely aware of why this group might've been willing to hear them out in the first place. "He's always claimed that it takes time," one of the assassins said. "That he can't just introduce us to the family again—"

"But you don't think he ever intended to hold up his end of the deal."

Another silence, which felt like answer enough.

"We still owe him." A different assassin, this time—the one to the furthest left, quiet. "Without him, we might've starved long before now."

"But you won't have that funding anymore," Skuld countered. "You'll be back to where you started if you stick with him. And there's no guarantee he'd hold up the entire end of his deal, anyway—look at the way things have gone so far.

"But we would."

She paused, giving that a moment to sink in. She could see the slight shift in their postures—the way the assassins leaned forward a little, like they were getting drawn into the idea.

It gave her hope. There's a chance. We could do this. "Frigga has more power than Aegir ever did—both politically and with your family. She could arrange something to get you back in their good graces."

"And how do we know you'd actually hold up your end of the bargain?" an assassin spat. "We've heard this before; look how well it's turned out for us. All empty promises."

"You don't," Skuld agreed, "but what do you have to lose? If you don't take this deal, you'll have nothing by the time the trial's over." She paused, considering, then added, "But we can meet with you directly after the trial—me, Brain, and Frigga. We'll officially arrange something with you then. You don't have to give us an answer until then; if we don't show up, or if you don't like the arrangement, then you could always call it off."

"…All this for us to stay out of the fighting," Tyr said, contemplative. They leaned back against the desk, hands curling around the edges.

"Yes."

The silence settled, heavy, across the room. Then: "I think we should take the deal."

The statement came from the assassin to Tyr's right; he turned toward Tyr, gesturing imploringly. "It's the easiest job we've ever gotten—and she's right. We all know she's right. Unless Aegir's plan works, we'll be out a job."

"But it might work," countered another assassin. "And then we've betrayed our longest-standing benefactor."

"Who never seemed to want to hold up his end of the deal in the first place," snarled another.

"He's still provided for us. Perhaps he hasn't helped us become a part of the family again—but he has helped us."

"But you have to know when the winds change," Tyr murmured. "You need to be able to…shift with them." Tyr studied them, and Skuld held her breath, watching. After what felt like a small eternity, they inclined their head. "We'll accept your deal with…one caveat."

The crash of relief, then wariness, nearly made Skuld wobbly. There was a prickling in her chest, and she resisted the urge to summon Starlight. "What is it?"

She caught the tell-tale signs of magic before she even realized what was happening—the scent of ozone, a charged feeling to the air that made her skin prickle, a quiet humming as something buzzed underneath her feet. Starlight came to her hands almost without thinking about it, a Reflect spell rising in front of her.

Another flash of light; Mimir was beside her in an instant, Keyblade lifted defensively.

It took a moment to realize they weren't being attacked; instead, a shimmering barrier flickered across the floor, crawling up the walls and stretching across the ceiling.

Skuld felt something sink, her stomach twisting. They're trapping us. They're keeping us from going back to the trial. If we can't get back—

Tyr leaned against the desk, folding their arms and seeming almost relaxed. "If you want us to sit out of the fighting, we'll need you to…sit out the trial."

"No," Skuld growled. "We can't. This is too important. I'm one of the ones accusing Aegir; if I'm not there—"

"It might be harder to convict him. Yes." Tyr tilted their head. "This seems to be the most…beneficial option for us. If Aegir loses his status, then we still have access to funds. But if we can turn the tables, we could potentially help him maintain his status. At the very least, it could be considered a…kind final gesture, for someone who has supported us for so long."

"That's not part of the deal," Skuld practically snarled.

Tyr shrugged, unconcerned—but she could see the other assassins moving around them, getting into position like they were prepared to fight. "If that's how you feel…you may certainly try to test your luck." They cocked their head. "There would be no hard feelings, if you decided to fight. This is simply a…beneficial business arrangement."

Skuld gritted her teeth. She roughly reached across the link to her Spirit. Get someone's attention. Get them here. "Mimir," she said, "get ready."

She barely gave them the chance to acknowledge her before she lunged.

---

-Kvasir shifted nervously, fingers tapping a rapid rhythm against the top of the stand. He could almost feel the confusion from the crowd—from the council, too, who hadn't expected him to come and take Brain's place when it was clear the Union Leader was running out of ideas to stall.

(It'd been almost impressive, how long he'd lasted; he'd managed to turn the trial towards mundane arguments more than once, and Anders had been quick to take the bait, leaping on any point Brain made to try and disprove it. Bryn looked like she was starting to develop a headache.)

Kvasir taking the stand had been…less conventional, and more simply coming out to ask him to step down and let him say his piece. "He's my uncle, and—I'd like to get it out of the way."

("Nothing?" he'd asked Brain, worried, trying to keep his voice low.

His friend had shaken his head. "Guessing that's the same for you."

It made him nervous. Skuld and Mimir hadn't contacted them, and he hoped that meant they were doing okay—but they'd also been gone for a while. He didn't know how long they could stall before things became too suspicious—it already looked suspicious now.)

"Kvasir," Bryn said slowly, dragging his attention up to her. She looked tired, and he tried not to wince; they really didn't mean to cause her so much trouble, but it wasn't like they had a good idea of what else to do. "You aren't one of the accusers—you were asked to speak to support your story. Both the accusers and accused need to speak first."

Behind her, Meili shifted a little, eyes narrowed and arms folded. Kvasir wished he could explain or apologize, but it was hard to get to them, when they were in such a public place. He hadn't even seen Frigga yet.

"I am one of the accusers," Kvasir said, and tried to ignore the way it made something bitter fill his mouth. His eyes were drawn almost unwillingly back to his uncle, who was staring at him like he was trying to pick him apart. "He hurt my friends. He kidnapped one of them, tried to kill another, and has caused us…a lot of grief." Kvasir swallowed, tight. "I was…caught in that first attack, too. It wasn't intentional on his part—but it still happened."

It made something in his chest twist, and he found his words slowly stuttering to a halt, his mouth still working as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to say.

(He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this, he couldn't do this, that was his family—)

(He had to.)

His eyes stung. "I don't…want anything bad to happen to him. He has always been…kind to me. He's supported me, even when many of my ideas seemed silly. He helped me get a position with the Exploration Department. But." He paused, and he wanted to look at his uncle, but he couldn't. "But—it's. He's—I know, now. I didn't used to, but—my friends. The Union Leaders. They—knew he was behind the attack, before I did. I think maybe I knew, too, and just…couldn't accept it. And I thought I could—could—sort things out. Myself. By talking with him."

The guilt felt like a physical thing. It wrapped around his shoulders and clung to his skin, everything itchy and heavy, prickling at the corners of his eyes.

(You don't need to say this. It's just a distraction. It's just a distraction. Don't think about it, don't think about it—)

"It—led to another of my friends getting kidnapped. Because I told him about—" don't say it "—something they could do."

…He couldn't do this anymore. Not like this. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't—

"So he's—I think maybe. A lot of the support wasn't so much because he cared about me, but because—it would be beneficial to him." It stung, and he found himself adding, bitter, "He's the reason our family—"

No. Because that wasn't right, was it?

Kvasir paused. Took a breath. And after a moment, he managed to pull the words out of his throat. "He is…a product of what our family's been like for…a long time. I obviously never knew Master Ephemer, but I'm friends with people who did. He was just…a normal person, like any of us. He got lost in the Clock Tower, and burnt food, and made mistakes. But from everything they said, he seemed…kind. And I don't think he'd approve of what we've become.

"I think—I think maybe our family has been falling apart for—a while, now. And that's—that's resulted in us hurting others. I saw that with Mimir, and Skuld, and—and even myself. Something needs to change, somewhere, if we don't want this to keep going." Kvasir looked at his uncle, finally, and decided he didn't want to think about the emotion he saw on his face. "My uncle is just—the way that's been brought to the forefront."

(He hated this. Hated the way it felt like his family was falling apart. Hated that he knew that things would never be normal after this. Hated that he knew that, whatever the outcome, there were going to be consequences that he wouldn't be able to escape.

…But there would be good things, too. His friends, maybe, wouldn't have to worry about being attacked anymore. They might not have to worry about Darkness. He wouldn't have to be afraid that simply telling one of the others something would put them in danger.

He thought of mornings cooking at Meili's, and joking with his friends while they explore festival preparations, and the excitement over the idea of Spirits, and of everything that could be, and it calmed something in him, a little. It'll be okay. It'll hurt—but it'll be okay.)

"This is ridiculous." That was Anders, and Kvasir turned to face him, bracing himself. "This trial is for Aegir and Aegir alone. It's not—it's not supposed to be for the entire family."

"We didn't mean for it to be," Kvasir said. "We didn't want it to be. But my uncle is just…a symptom of the problem." He clenched his fists and forced himself not to lower his head. "If none of you had been so worried about the Union Leaders taking power, they would've worked together with you—but my uncle, and Master Frigga, and the others—you couldn't leave them alone. You still won't, because—because the reason that Master Skuld hasn't come out to talk is because she's had to try and talk down assassins that my uncle worked with."

It wasn't quite the truth—but then, it was close enough, and—

And he could see Brain waving him down out of the corner of his eye.

Kvasir winced. Maybe I shouldn't have…said that. He tried to give Brain an apologetic look.

Brain shook his head rapidly.

Kvasir's eyebrows furrowed.

"Assassins," Bryn repeated slowly. "Here."

"If he's telling the truth," Leid said, glancing to her, "we should send someone to track them down."

"He's not telling the truth," Anders snapped. "He's making up stories to keep us busy."

"Then where is Master Skuld?"

"Off doing her own thing—you know how the Union Leaders are."

Brain looked frustrated. He turned to the Spirit pet on his shoulder—and Kvasir noticed for the first time that it looked frightened, fur puffed up.

Kvasir went cold. Oh, no.

"I—have to go."

He wasn't sure what sort of conversation he'd interrupted—he could hear Bryn's words falling silent, everything dying slowly around him. He thought he heard someone calling his name as he moved, hurrying across the courtroom toward Brain.

"Something's up," Brain said without preamble. "This guy dug its claws into my shoulders a couple of minutes ago and wouldn't let go." He turned, hurrying down the hall, and forcing Kvasir to keep up with him. "I was getting ready to leave without you."

"Are they okay?"

"I don't know. It's not like this thing can fill me in." Brain glanced at the cat. "You want to help us figure out where to go?"

The Spirit chirped, launching itself off Brain's shoulder. It paused long enough to glance at them, then darted down the hallway, and the two picked up their pace to follow. Please be okay. Please, please, please—I don't want to lose my friends, too.

---

-Lydia's eyes narrowed as she stared at the collection of Keyblade wielders, herding prisoners back down the street. She pursed her lips. Not everyone got so lucky—but perhaps, with enough manpower, we can free them later.

She slipped down the street, in the opposite direction of the wielders.

(The shadows seemed to move out of the corner of her eye—but then, it was likely just a figment of her imagination.)

---

-Crash-clang! Tyr's Keyblade flashed into existence, catching Starlight almost casually. Skuld moved, weapon twisting underneath his blade, aiming for a quick jab.

Movement to her right. She leapt backward, one hand slamming the panel on her armor. She heard a clang! and felt a faint impact; as the light faded, she thought she saw the assassin slipping back into the shadows.

Another shift—but Mimir was there this time, their Keyblade sweeping in front of them to force the assassin back. Their eyes flicked across the room, like they were looking for some sort of hole in the barrier.

Starlight whipped around. A Blizzaga spell formed on the tip and crashed into the barrier. Energy rippled out from the point of impact, leaving flickering crystals behind; ice formed along the wall, but the barrier held. It can't last forever. The spell will fade eventually—but as long as the assassins are up, they can just put it up again. "Mimir," she whispered, "do you think you'd be able to use your heart magic to bring one of them down?"

Mimir looked grim and uncertain, but they whispered, "I'll try."

"Okay. Okay, that's—look out!" She moved almost without thinking about it, spinning Mimir around behind her, Starlight flashing to catch the edge of an assassin's blade. A twist, and a sweep of her weapon to disengage; Starlight lifted, an Aeroga spell rippling around them, stirring papers into a frenzy and forcing the assassins back. A Stop spell flickered at her Keyblade—

And out of the corner of her eye, she caught one of the assassins lifting their Keyblade.

She couldn't quite cut off her spell in time, but thankfully, Mimir seemed to be prepared; they lifted their Keyblade, a Reflect spell rising around them. The papers froze as Skuld's spell went off; there was a vague humming sound, a crackling sort of energy as the spell collided with their opponent's Reflect, then Mimir's, bouncing uselessly between the two.

Skuld backpedaled quickly. A Blizzaga spell formed at the end of her Keyblade, trained on the assassin across from her.

Movement from overhead. She whipped her Keyblade around, shooting the spell upward instead. The assassin moved, practically bouncing off the walls, and another took their place, sliding in from her right. Spin, block, strike—another, coming from her left, Mimir sliding into place behind her to parry the blow. They circled around each other, back to back, weapons flashing as they caught blow after blow after blow—

"Thundaga!"

Lightning struck. It sparked across the edges of Skuld's armor; she caught the smell of something burning. She wasn't even sure who cast the spell, Mimir or one of the assassins; she'd dragged her friend toward her, anyways, trying to shield them with her armor.

The spell lit up the room for a split second. In it, she saw—

There. Her Keyblade whipped around, hilt freezing even through her armor. The spell fired; ice crashed into the assassin's feet, pinning them to the floor, and she caught the vague sound of surprise as they tried to break free.

Mimir shot out from behind Skuld, darting across the room, Keyblade swinging back.

Two shapes moved, dark blurs Skuld almost missed. She shot forward to intercept them, a barrier of her own shooting up in front of her. She felt them crash against the spell, arms shuddering with the impact.

She heard the crack of ice; she turned in time to see the assassin trying to tug their way free, twisting a little. Mimir caught their blade as they swung, whipping around to try and connect with the back of their neck.

Another shape, emerging from the shadows. Skuld spun around to protect Mimir's back, kicking off the floor with a boost of magic. One parry, then another, her weapon arcing around to strike at their shoulder. More movement—but Mimir was there, protecting her this time, the assassin having managed to escape because of the distraction.

Skuld gritted her teeth. With a frustrated cry she waved Starlight; chains burst from the tip, glowing, and swept around the room, and the assassins leapt backward to avoid them. The light cast harsh shadows, flickering across the walls.

Skuld's eyes honed in on an assassin on the far end of the room. With a heavy swing she dragged her Keyblade around. The chains rattled as they followed the weapon's arc, dragging against the walls and cracking against the floor. The assassin moved, leaping back, one of their comrades reaching out to grab their arm and pull them away.

No you don't!

The chains crashed into the assassins, wrapping around them almost without any input from Skuld. With a shout she jerked Starlight to the side, the chains dragging the assassins backward, flinging them across the room and directly into the barrier. It flickered for a moment, but held; she thought she caught a shout from one of the assassins, but when the chains faded, she thought she could see them going limp.

A shape moved in her peripherals. She turned, ready to spring toward the figure hurrying to help their allies.

Something clanged! against her armor; she stumbled under the force of it, spinning around.

Tyr tilted their head. "Careful. I thought you didn't want too much fighting."

"Then let us go."

"We will—in ti—"

They froze, whole body going suddenly stiff. Skuld lifted Starlight, apprehensive—but then she caught sight of a familiar figure, standing just behind the assassin. Mimir's expression was pinched, their arms shaking, but they had a hand braced against Tyr's back, shoulders set stubbornly.

Tyr twitched a little, breath hissing between their teeth.

Mimir's expression broke a little; they made a gasping sort of noise, eyes scrunching closed.

That…wasn't how they normally reacted to using their magic. "Mimir…?"

Something slammed into her back. She ducked into a roll before she'd even hit the floor, tumbling over herself and twisting back to her feet. Starlight lifted as she turned, catching the edge of a Keyblade on hers. As she swept the weapon aside, one of the assassin's hands stretched out. She twisted, trying to move away, but she could still feel the crackle of electricity, bubbling from the assassin's fingertips.

Her body spasmed a little. The armor protected her from some of the spell, but not all of it, and it made her stumble, arms twitching uncontrollably enough that she lost her hold on her Keyblade, legs knocking into each other and nearly sending her to the floor.

The assassin took the opportunity to strike, Keyblade swinging around in an arc.

Starlight flashed back into Skuld's hands. Her parry wasn't neat, but it was effective, diverting her opponent's Keyblade just enough to avoid taking the full brunt of the attack. But her opponent pushed their advantage, moving forward with swing after swing after swing, forcing her back towards the wall.

Her head turned, just a little, to find Mimir. She was in time to see them gasp and jerk their hand away, clutching it close to their chest, head shaking like they were trying to shake away the memories. Tyr stumbled, catching themself with a quiet gasp—and then they turned, weapon whipping around so quickly that, with Mimir still disoriented, they wouldn't have time to react.

Skuld didn't entirely think about what she was doing; she just moved, magic building at the tip of her Keyblade. Light flickered, then exploded, arcs of it streaking across the room.

Tyr turned, Keyblade halfway down toward Mimir; one crashed into their stomach, sending them flying backward into the barrier. The sparks cracked against the desk, the wall, the floor. Mimir stumbled and fell, a burst flying neatly overhead. The assassin that had been hounding Skuld retreated, leaping out of the way and swinging their Keyblade back and forth, trying to parry the flickering bits of the spell.

Skuld reached out to steady her Keyblade a little, hands gripped around the hilt of the weapon to stop their shaking. She blinked, trying to force away the sunspots that patterned the room.

Over the chaos of crashing and rustling papers, she thought she could hear something cracking.

At first, she thought it was the ice from her earlier spell, breaking apart into little pieces under the force of the attack. Then, she considered that maybe it was something that had been stored inside the room, broken in the assault. But when she finally looked, she could see—

The barrier. It's breaking.

Hairline fractures had started creeping up along the edges—nothing major, it was something. If they put enough pressure on it quickly enough—

She darted toward Mimir, skidding onto her knees to help them up. They were still shaking, hunched over themself, eyes squeezed so tightly closed that it looked almost painful. She swallowed tightly, wrapping an arm around their shoulders. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

They didn't say anything, but they tried to nod, the movement unsteady. They leaned into her, and she took a breath, holding them closer.

"We're going to get out of here." She lifted her head, trying to keep track of the assassins. The two that'd been in her chains were groggily getting back to their feet; Tyr was still wobbling, one of the others trying to support them. Skuld didn't know where the last assassin was; she wasn't sure she had time to find them.

Starlight lifted. Magic burned at the tip; the force of it firing almost made Skuld topple backward, her Keyblade jerking upward with the motion. The spell crashed against the fractured barrier; if she was looking carefully, she thought she could see the fractures spreading.

Another spell, and another, and another, all fired in rapid succession, her arms aching and the taste of ash in her throat. A roaring, crackling sound filled her ears, so loud she couldn't hear much of anything else. The whole world seemed to be ringing, her arm aching and eyes flickering with sunspots—but the barrier was flickering, warping a little under the force of the constant assault.

Tyr's head snapped up. They moved, shouting, "Stop her!"

Just a little bit more. Just a little bit more, and we'll be out. "Get ready to move," she shouted, hooking an arm under Mimir's, dragging both of them into a standing position so they could run the moment the barrier was down.

Mimir shifted a little. They opened their eyes, the haziness fading slowly. She almost didn't catch their whisper above the roar of her spells. "Above you."

Skuld's head snapped upward.

The last assassin was there; their Keyblade was pointed down toward the two of them, magic spiraling around the tip.

Skuld's barrage cut off. She threw up a hasty barrier around the two of them, dragging Mimir close and covering them.

The spell fired. The whole room shook; a dull roar came from the impact, and Skuld's legs wobbled, sending her to her knees, dragging Mimir down with her. She clung to her friend a little tighter, gritting her teeth, but her barrier held.

The shaking faded after a moment. The room filled with dust and the shattered, glittering remains of ice. As the debris cleared, Skuld could see the barrier, still shimmering along the edges of the wall—cracked, but still standing.

Skuld sucked in a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. Close. It was close. If we could just get a little more pressure—

Tyr stood straighter; whatever Mimir had done to them seemed to be fading away, and they lifted their head. She thought something about their stance seemed a little more…agitated, than it had when they'd been speaking.

One of the assassins landed by their side. Another stepped up from where she'd been helping them, standing straighter. The remaining too were still wobbly, but they made their way to the group, facing them stubbornly.

Skuld gritted her teeth. She shifted into a fighting position, feet sliding protectively in front of Mimir. Her friend blinked up at her, but after a moment, they stood, too, getting into an unsteady position.

"It was…a valiant attempt." Tyr glanced behind them, lifting a hand, and Skuld's stomach sank as she realized they were going to cast a fresh barrier spell. No. No, no, we can't stay trapped here, we need to get back—

And then Tyr paused, head cocked.

Skuld blinked, staring at him warily—but then she heard it, too. A dull thud—muted by the barrier, but—

It's coming from the outside. Someone's trying to open the door. Is that…?

"Boss," one of the assassins murmured, "what's…?"

Another thud. The cracks traveled a little further up the barrier.

"Move!" Tyr shouted, leaping backwards just in time for the barrier to shatter. The door flew open, and between the fractured remains of the spell, Skuld could see a familiar Keyblade, pointing at them and still glowing with magic. Brain huffed, moving his Keyblade, but she could still see the relief on his face.

Kvasir grinned from beside him, looking like he was about ready to pass out. "We made it!"

---

-The silence the followed Kvasir's sudden departure was almost deafening. Meili's ears rang with it, and they were hard pressed not to run off after him. Stars. Are those the assassins that Skuld was trying to convince to talk to her?

The four of them were capable. Skuld and Brain were Masters in their own right. Meili had very little combat training—only the bare basics so they weren't completely caught off guard if they were attacked by Heartless while exploring another world. But that didn't mean they didn't want to run after them to make sure they were alright.

"We need to do something," they said instead, breaking into the silence. "Put the trial on hold—it's not like we can go forward if one of the key members isn't here."

"You really think there are assassins here?"

Meili's blood boiled when they heard the voice. Aegir. The man looked unreasonably smug when they whipped toward him; they were tempted to come down from their seat and punch him, fighting experience be damned. "I think it's fucking possible. Kvasir's not really much of a liar, and he was out of here in a hurry. There's something wrong, and whether it's your assassins or not, we should find out what it is."

"Master Brain and my nephew were clearly stalling." Aegir flashed them an amused look, and Meili ground their teeth. "Do you think they'd do that if their friend was really in danger?"

"I think that we should take any threat like this seriously."

"And for all we know, they could be trying to drag key people away from the trial." Aegir gave them a sidelong look. "The Union Leaders have always operated under their own merits. They've never particularly cared about what we have to say—for all we know, Master Skuld simply got distracted by some personal pursuit, and the others are trying to cover for her."

"They're just fucking children, Aegir." Meili's voice boomed across the courtroom, and everything went very, very quiet. "Powerful, sure. They were Keyblade Masters long before any of us were ever born. But they're still fucking teenagers who had to watch their world fall apart. You think you couldn't offer them a little grace?"

"Meili," Bryn said. "That's enough."

Meili gritted their teeth, but fell silent, hands clenched into tight fists.

They could feel Aegir staring at them still; when they met his gaze, he had a look on his face that they weren't sure they liked. "…You have never been fond of our family, have you, Meili?"

Meili tensed.

"I remember—and so do many people here, no doubt. You walked right up to the council when you were barely an adult, brazen and quick to make your claim that you were a 'descendant of Master Ephemer.'" He flashed a sardonic smirk. "I suppose you and the Union Leaders do have something in common, don't you?"

Meili narrowed their eyes. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"You were so angry when we wouldn't just accept your claim. We had to verify your heritage, to make sure that you weren't trying to get something you weren't owed—"

"'Something I wasn't owed'?" Meili asked, incredulous. "Wait—never mind. You know what? You're right. I wasn't owed anything because it turned out I was related to all of you. I bought into the same stupid rhetoric the rest of you do—and you were happy to dissuade me of that, because we provided you with plenty of proof, and you would've still be happier to cut me off completely because I wasn't a 'traditional' member of the family." They narrowed their eyes. "But I shouldn't have tried. I wasn't owed anything because of who I was related to."

Aegir's eyes flashed, and Meili realized belatedly that this was probably exactly what Aegir had wanted. "And that proves my point. You've always been angry at the fact that you were not simply given your position, and that resentment has certainly had time to build. Master Frigga claims that you've been working with the Union Leaders for…a while, now, and this trial has been peculiarly…geared against our family." Aegir tilted his head. "Tell me: how much of that is based on your influence over the Union Leaders?"

Meili was very close to giving into the temptation to punch him; they might've done so, if they didn't know that it would do more harm than good in the long run. "I didn't have anything to do with that decision. That was all you—you and Frigga and everyone else who's only ever looked at them and seen a threat to your power and not people.

"Yeah, I've been working with them a while. Do you want to know what I've seen? I've seen kids who had to run away from their home because they weren't sure they'd be safe. I've seen Brain up all night, wearing himself out on projects because he's too stressed to sleep. I've seen Skuld wake up panicked from nightmares. I've seen children struggling with the after-effects of everything they've been put through without a single chance to process things. You're a wielder; you at least have to have some idea of what that's like."

For a moment, Meili thought they saw a flicker of something across Aegir's face—but it was gone in an instant, buried under a careful façade.

"Meili," Bryn repeated, "Aegir. Please."

Aegir tilted his head toward Bryn, but fell silent.

Meili breathed out, trying to reign in their temper. "Look," they said, "if you don't want to stop the trial—at least send someone. Make sure they're alright."

Bryn gave them a peculiar sort of look. After a moment, though, her expression cleared, and she nodded. "Osmin. Can you…?"

"I'm on it." He stood, slipping away from the seats.

Meili slumped back into their seat. They gripped the arms so tightly their knuckles went white.

Bryn straightened. "The trial will continue," she said, voice echoing across the courtroom, "until this matter is resolved." After a reluctant moment, she took a breath, and added, "If no other accusers are here to speak—then the accused should be given a turn to say his piece."

Meili closed their eyes. Stars. All of you had better be safe—and you'd better get back here quick, before anything else goes wrong.

---

-Another one.

"Lydia, what's—"

"Get to the Clock Tower. Collect everyone you can. We're moving now."

---

-Skuld was moving before she'd even entirely registered that her friends were here, dragging Mimir along behind her. "We need to go."

"What's—"

"We'll fill you in, Kvasir, but we need to run."

Kvasir nodded, expression turning into something a little more stubborn. In a heartbeat he was beside her, helping Mimir as they collected themself, checking that they were okay with a whispered question.

"Guessing things didn't go as planned," Brain commented dryly, falling into step beside her and casting an uncertain glance behind them.

"The assassins agreed to stay out of the fighting—but they trapped us in the room to keep us from getting back to the trial. Something about 'improving their business prospects.'"

Brain huffed. "Don't know if it's great business to attack the people trying to be your benefactors."

Mimir twitched. Their head jerked upright, and very abruptly, they grabbed at Skuld and Kvasir, dragging them backward.

A spell crashed into the place where they'd been just a moment before. The air crackled; the black spot on the ground made a hissing noise, rattling through Skuld's ears.

Brain twisted, firing a short light spell into the rafters. Something skittered overhead, disappearing out of sight.

Skuld took a shuddering breath, then kicked off with a burst of magic.

The four of them ran in silence for a little while, the only noises the sound of their footsteps, clicking rapidly against the floor, and the clanking of Skuld's armor.

Mimir's head snapped around. "Front left."

Skuld was closest to that—she stepped forward, sweeping her Keyblade up to parry. There was a quick crash-clang! as her weapon slammed against the assassin's, and then they retreated, stepping back into the shadows.

Mimir whipped around again. "Right."

Kvasir, this time, sliding into a parry. The assassin's Keyblade went wide, and Kvasir shot a small ball of lighting at his midsection. He darted away with a quick parry.

Brain sucked in a breath. A barrier went up just as lighting crashed down on them, the sparks scattering around the edges.

The four of them pressed together, Keyblades aimed outward, guarding each others' backs. "So they're just going to stalk us the whole way back, huh?" Brain muttered.

"They could be anywhere," Skuld murmured. "They're not in a confined space anymore—so they could disappear and reappear at any moment."

Kvasir took a breath, then lunged, shooting forward. Something glowed underneath his feet, and he yelped and kicked backward a half-second before a Mine spell went off. "Or lay traps."

Skuld's eyes narrowed. "But we need to keep moving. We can't just stay here and wait for them to strike—we have to get back."

Mimir's breath caught. They whipped their Keyblade around; fire exploded from the tip, crashing into a column. A shape darted away, disappearing into the shadows.

Skuld's eyes flicked to the rafters. After a beat she launched herself toward them, magic pooling underneath her feet.

A shape flew towards her. She lifted her Keyblade, parrying the strike in midair, Zero Gravity spell humming around her weapon.

Chains rattled. Brain appeared on the assassin's other side a moment later, spell still glowing in a long line from the tip of his Keyblade. His weapon swung around, crashing into the assassin and sending them spiraling in the opposite direction.

"In front of you!" Kvasir shouted from down below.

"I see them!" A touch to the rafters, and then a step to the right, shooting around them. The assassin parried her strike, and the two of them parted, spinning to land on opposite rafters.

The glow of a Mine spell flickered underneath the assassin's feet. Their breath stuttered, and they moved to dodge away just as the spell exploded.

Brain flicked Master's Defender, looking mildly annoyed that they'd managed to dodge his spell. Another flick, and a chain chased after them, forcing them to dodge—right into Skuld's waiting weapon. Starlight crashed into their side, sending them down toward the floor; they tried to right themself, but Kvasir leapt to meet them, weapon colliding with their side and sending them off course. They crashed into the remains of their own Mine spell, smoke spiraling upward. Mimir shot through it, head snapping back and forth rapidly as they hurried down the hallway. They stopped abruptly, skidding around to look at the rafters with wide eyes.

Skuld saw what they'd noticed a half-second later—a dark shape, flying from behind Brain. She'd lifted her Keyblade to fire a spell at them in an instant, forcing them backward.

Brain was moving before the spell had even fully fired, brushing past her. Master's Defender caught the blade of a second assassin, twisting it away and forcing them backward. Skuld swung around to catch the assassin with Starlight, a Firaga spell at the tip. The force of the spell forced them both apart, but Skuld caught herself, magic sticking her to the side of the wall as her feet moved, sending her running back across the rafters, darting overhead as she tried to stay ahead of their pursuers.

Light flashed, chains rattling as Brain swung using them to keep up. Kvasir and Mimir remained grounded, trying to track them as they raced down the corridors and back toward the courtroom.

The assassins were never far away; they struck from the shadows, laying traps or firing spells, blades flashing at odd moments like they were trying to keep them off-guard. Mimir called out locations below them; Kvasir fired spell after spell, some aimed at spots across the ground, others flickering up past them in the rafters. Starlight burned, hot from magic. She and Brain crossed back and forth, slipping into position to cover each other whenever an assassin made an appearance. A spell here, a parry there—a barrier went up beside her as an assassin tried to strike, and she whipped around to fire a spell in their direction. She caught another in chains of her own, swinging them into a Mine spell that Brain had set up against a wall; Brain himself flew over them, light flickering from the end of his weapon as he shot it toward another of the assassins.

"Below you!" Mimir called.

"Got it!" Kvasir shouted, and he lunged, moving to slam his Keyblade into the assassin's side. They stumbled, skidding across the floor, and Kvasir threw up a hasty barrier around them, ignoring their pounding fists as they tried to get out.

They're still slowing us down too much, Skuld thought, frustrated. I can't see the courtroom yet. If no one else is there—who's speaking? What's going to happen?

"Head's up," Brain said. Master's Defender tapped briefly against the rafter underfoot; it lifted after a second, chains winding around them in a wide arc. An assassin Skuld hadn't seen slipped away from the spell, forced backwards. Skuld sent a volley of Fire spells after them, tracking them with her eyes until she couldn't see them anymore.

Brain's breath hissed between his teeth; the chains flickered and broke apart, and in a heartbeat Skuld was moving again, soaring through the air. A barrier flickered around her side, catching a spell; she turned to retaliate, but her spell flew through empty air.

"Close your eyes!" Brain shouted. Skuld turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing up a barrier, just in case. Even with that, she could still see how bright Brain's spell was; it burned, practically illuminating the entire area. She thought she heard people shouting, and then the faint sound of explosions; she dared to squint her eyes open briefly and thought she saw Kvasir, crouched to touch the ground, Keyblade glowing.

The light faded. Brain stumbled, just a little, and Skuld moved to steady him. He blinked, huffing with amusement. "Well. Hopefully that delayed them a little, at least."

Skuld glanced at the ground. After a moment she hooked her arm underneath Brain's, jumping down with him. They stumbled a little on the impact, and Skuld braced him, trying to keep him from toppling over. Kvasir came to support him on the other side, flashing a shaky grin.

Mimir watched them, tentative smile stretching their face. Then they snapped around, tensing—only to relax a moment later, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Skuld followed their gaze—and, to her surprise (and, admittedly, relief), saw Osmin and a small collection of Keyblade wielders coming toward them.

Osmin's eyes flicked over them, expression dipping into a frown. "Assassins…?" Osmin checked, sounding wary. His eyes flicked toward Kvasir.

"Yeah," Skuld said, and she could hear the relief in her voice. "Did Frigga…?"

"Kvasir said something about it." Osmin glanced at him. "It shouldn't surprise me that Aegir would try something, especially with outside help." He glanced at her. "Are they…?"

"Some are still out there. We need to get back to the trial. Can we—"

"Sorry," someone said, and that wasn't a voice she recognized, "but I don't believe you'll be going back."

---

-"Master Aegir. Do you know the crimes that have been leveled against you?"

Aegir lifted his chin, staring at Bryn from across the courtroom. "I do."

"Please repeat them for the court."

"According to my accusers: attempted assassination of the Union Leaders, kidnapping, illegally vying for power, and putting the citizens of Scala ad Caelum at risk."

"Do you wish to refute these claims?"

Aegir was quiet. After a long, long moment, he said, "No."

A low murmur went up from the crowd. Meili leaned forward in their seat, eyes going wide. Bryn hesitated, looking uncertain, but she composed herself quickly. "Do you…wish to say anything on your behalf, then?"

"I do." Aegir's eyes flicked across the crowd, landing on certain familiar members. Other bluebloods—people disgruntled with their situation, and the way the trial had gone. "My family—you have seen what your leaders think of you. The Union Leaders. The council. Even Master Frigga herself—the one in charge of this city and an important member of this family herself. They have decided that we are the enemy—that we no longer deserve what we have worked so hard to earn. But you are familiar with this already—it is, after all, a sentiment long held."

---

-"What do you mean?" Osmin snapped, turning toward the wielders he'd brought with him—only to find himself facing down several Keyblades.

Skuld sucked in a breath, lifting her weapon. Her friends tensed beside her.

One of the wielders smiled, looking almost apologetic. "I'm sorry, Master Osmin—but we can't let you through. Master Aegir's orders." He glanced aside, giving a shadowy figure a nod.

Tyr nodded back, slipping away into the shadows.

---

-"Our worries about the Union Leaders weren't unfounded—you can see where allying with them has led. I warned you that we would need to unite if we were meant to stave off their threat—but many of you didn't listen to me. Look at where we are now: look at what we're facing."

"Aegir," Bryn interrupted, "you are meant to be giving an explanation for your actions. Your family cannot help you out of this."

"I am. I acted the way I did to protect my family—to protect us. The Union Leaders were a threat I attempted to neutralize—and, regrettably, failed. For now."

---

-Not everyone had made it out. Lydia could feel the empty spaces around her; their forces felt too weak, when they should've been much, much stronger.

It didn't matter. It was this, or nothing, and she led the way toward the courtroom with her collection of family members, prepared to do whatever was necessary.

---

-"For now?" Bryn repeated, wary.

Aegir's eyes flicked to the crowd. Keyblades glinted, near the back. "The Union Leaders don't care about Scala ad Caelum—even Master Brain, the current holder of the leader's Keyblade, would rather leave us to rot. They care about themselves. Our family has led this city for generations—but the Union Leaders would strip us of everything."

---

-"You—! Aegir has no power," Osmin snapped. "He's on trial."

"Maybe not for long," one of the wielders said. "If everything goes according to plan."

Brain sucked in a breath. "Shit. They aren't going to wait for the festival."

"It's happening now." Kvasir looked like he was reeling. "Is this our fault? Did we force them to move?"

Skuld narrowed her eyes.

The wielders lifted their Keyblades, challenging.

A breath, steadying. And then a lunge, Skuld's Keyblade sweeping across the space to meet them.

---

-"You've seen what the Union Leaders and their allies would lead us toward. You've heard what they want. Will you really stand for that? Will you let them strip everything away—or will you join me, and fight for our family?"

"Aegir," Bryn snapped, standing as a murmur went up from the crowd—only to find a Keyblade resting against her throat.

Leid wouldn't quite look at her; her Keyblade was shaking.

Outside the courtroom, a commotion had started. It was growing louder; it sounded, a little, like fighting.

Aegir tilted his head, lips curling into a sardonic sort of smile. "I'm sorry, Bryn—but unlike Frigga, I would do anything to protect my family."

---

-(Darkness crept along the walls, curling around the pillars. Many eyes flickered through the mist as it crept through the cracks, coating the air like smog. In its gaze it caught sight of bluebloods. Keyblade wielders. Individuals all alike, lifting blades in a way that was very reminiscent of those wars, ages past.

Deep below Scala ad Caelum, chains rattled.)

---

-(Do you want to hear a story?)

The doors to the courtroom flew open.

(It's a familiar one—told over and over again, in many different ways.)

People fled; others called Keyblades or raised weapons in protest. A cacophony rose around them, the noise nearly overbearing.

In the middle of it, Aegir lifted an arm.

(This is the story of how the world ends.)

Aegir's Keyblade materialized. He turned the Keyblade, aiming it toward the council—toward Meili, trying to ward off Fafnir mostly alone. With a quick breath he pulled on his magic and fired.

Light flashed. A weapon swept through the spell, shattering it in a cascade of sparks.

Aegir narrowed his eyes, weapon lowering just a little. "…Frigga."

Frigga stood facing him, back straight, old, disused Keyblade slowly warming in her hands. "Hello, Aegir. Are you prepared for a rematch?"

---

…See the trial went great!