Chapter 2

The Darkness never ended. Aerith and Riku walked for what seemed like hours without a single change in venue. Black as far as the eye could see. Sometimes Heartless would appear, but Riku would quickly cut through them with his blade while Aerith provided magic support.

At first, Riku wanted to be alone. He didn't like the idea of traveling with some strange woman who was always praying for something. No gods or angels could hear them in such a place. It was such a waste of time to even try. But even if she was a bit odd like that, he had to admit that it was nice to have someone watching his back for a change. Timely cure spells and defensive lightning bolts were a really nice touch.

It had been so long since he spent time with someone that didn't want to use him—to get at his heart and twist it. He didn't want to think about that, though. Not in that place. Not with all the shadows. Maybe the ones nipping at them now were because of him. Because he couldn't stop thinking about how stupid he had been to ever trust Ansem and the witch.

"Not bad!" Aerith said with a proud fist pump after they dispatched another group of Heartless. "I think we're getting a real rhythm down!"

"Yeah, maybe," Riku grumbled.

"Why so sourpuss?"

"That's what, the third dozen batch we've run into? It never ends."

"Well, this is the Darkness," Aerith said as she clasped her hands in prayer. "It's where all the Heartless live. We're kind of trespassing."

Riku didn't reply. That made a disturbing amount of sense, even if it annoyed him. He kept trudging forward, feeling fatigue overpowering his motivation. There was no telling how much longer he'd have to keep fighting.

"We need to stay positive," said Aerith as if she could read his mind. "There's always a light in the darkness, right? So all we need to do is just find that and we'll be okay."

"Maybe," Riku hummed. He knew the rules. Thinking sad thoughts would make more Heartless appear. But at the same time, he couldn't deny a looming pessimism. The idea of an eternal journey made his stomach sour and that's when the eyes homed in on him. The shadows pooled at his feet.

"Again? So soon?" Aerith launched some fireballs. "You weren't having any funny thoughts, were you? Because it definitely wasn't me this time!"

"You mean that last one was you?" Riku said, slicing his sword through the oncoming barrage.

"Maybe," Aerith playfully mimicked.

"What could a nun like you possibly think about to summon such strong Heartless?"

"Nun? Me?" Aerith couldn't help but chuckle. The Heartless started to spiral and she switched to lightning, blowing them all to bits.

"Yeah, you're always praying."

"Anyone can pray—even you."

"Why would I?"

"It's good for the heart. Keeps everything steady, you know? Calm and collected. But it's more than that, too. It's like you're putting it out there—all the good you want to come back to you."

Riku dispatched the last of the Heartless and sheathed his blade. "The good I want to come back to me?"

Aerith nodded. "Come on, try it," she said, grabbing Riku's hands. He was shocked and confused, but didn't put up much resistance as she forced his fingers to interlace. "Now close your eyes," she instructed, doing the same. "Imagine you're in a place that makes you feel safe. It could be anywhere as long as you really believe it."

Riku pictured the electric blue waves of Destiny Island rushing up on the shore. Slowly, palm trees started to sprout and he pictured himself sitting on the long, curved one bearing the paopu fruit.

"Nothing can hurt you there. Ever. Its boundaries are infinite. They go beyond what you can see, hear, touch. While you're there, everything is exactly how you want it to be—exactly what makes you happy."

Sora and Kairi's laughter echoed in the breeze. Riku smiled, wanting to laugh with them. But a sudden thought cast a shadow over his island. He had hurt them. They were far away now and he didn't know if he'd ever see them again. The bright, sunny sky went dark and the yellow eyes were on him once more.

"Riku! Look out!"

"Huh?" Riku opened his eyes just in time to see a giant shadow launch itself at him. Its claws were outstretched ready to get at his heart when it suddenly froze in place like a statue. Aerith had turned it into a popsicle.

"You know," she mused, walking over to the icy Heartless, "the whole point of that exercise was to keep the shadows away."

"I'm trying," Riku murmured, ashamed and angry at himself.

"You'll get there," she assured him, flicking her fingers at the ice block. It shattered, destroying the Heartless in the process. "So, want to try again?"

"Maybe later."

"But we didn't even get to the actual praying part."

"We should hurry."

"Why? We don't know where we're going or even how to get there. The only thing we know for sure is that we're surrounded by shadows. And unless we can put up a barrier…"

More Heartless appeared, cutting off Aerith's train of thought. They were getting larger every wave and it took a lot longer to cut down these new ones. Riku could feel himself getting slower. He was losing his edge and just barely managed to finish off the final one before his arm slumped down.

"So," Aerith said, almost as out of breath as Riku, "want to try again now?"

Riku frowned, resisting the urge to scoff before wordlessly clasping his hands together. As he closed his eyes, he struggled a bit to find himself back on the island. Exhaustion and stress blocked out the ambiance. He tried really hard to focus, willing the crystal waters to emerge from a sea of black. The seagulls were cawing, the waterfall was rushing, and waves were lapping.

"You're safe there," Aerith said, her voice echoing across the sky. "Everything is going to be okay."

"Yeah," Riku hummed softly, allowing himself to relax a little.

"But it's not enough to be in the here-and-now. You have to look beyond that. What do you want the world to be like? What do you want to have come to you? Put it out there first and it'll come back to you."

"Isn't that like wishing?"

"A little, but I like to think of it as willing."

"Sounds just as unobtainable."

"Hey! No negativity, remember? Now start willing!"

Riku wanted to argue, but his stiff legs and aching arms knew that she was right. Leaning against his favorite tree, he gazed out at the ocean. The sun was just coming up over the horizon, bathing its golden light across the waters. A hand suddenly appeared on his shoulder, followed by a second one. He broke his gaze with the sky and looked on either side of him. Sora and Kairi were there, laughing.

"What are you doing all by yourself?" Kairi giggled.

"C'mon, let's go build a sand castle!" said Sora, excitedly tugging Riku towards the shore.

They each took one of his arms into theirs and led him towards the beach. Happiness started to swell inside of Riku's chest. Togetherness. He had missed it.

Aerith peeked through one of her eyes and caught a single tear streaking down Riku's cheek. "He did it," she thought warmly. Reaching out, she softly nudged him. "Hold those thoughts close and we'll walk."

"With our eyes closed?"

"With our eyes closed," she said. "It's so dark in here, what are they really doing for us anyway? The only thing worth seeing is what's inside your heart right now. So just take it slow. One foot in front of the other. Let's put our new rhythm to work, huh?"

Riku hesitated at first, but then agreed. He took one step forward, followed by another and another. Right next to him, Aerith followed pace. They marched in precession—hands clasped, eyes closed, minds focused—clean through the Darkness, undisturbed, unwatched, and unwanted. A sudden thought made Riku either want to die of embarrassment. "I feel like a nun…" The only thing missing was a guttural hymn. The yellow eyes flashed on him again, waiting for his concentration to fully break. But although he stumbled a bit, Riku allowed himself to feel hopeful. Maybe he didn't deserve it after everything he did, but he wasn't going to think about that right now. All that mattered was getting out of there in one piece. Only with his heart intact could he ever be in a place to truly atone.

While her newfound partner in prayer thought about his island, Aerith was back in her garden. Sunlight sparkled through the strained glass windows, warming her as she basked in its ethereal glow. She stood there alone, waiting inside a ring of yellow lilies. Then the front door creaked open. A man stood in the light. Aerith smiled.


"I'm happy that you're happy. I hope that some day I can be too."

Squall stood outside the gate. Although young, his energy was quiet and reserved. He preferred observation to action. Just inside the courtyard was an antiquated church with a door that never seemed to close. It gave full view to a beautiful garden that sprouted out through the broken floorboards. When Ansem and his scientists took over the town, people had stopped filling the pews, so nature decided to move into the empty space.

Every day just before sunrise, Aerith came to visit the flowers. She would give them a sprinkling of water while chatting them up, and Squall would stand within earshot of it all. Every bloom had a name and a story. Maybe she had an overactive imagination. Or maybe she just saw the world in a much more interesting light. Either way, Squall was intrigued.

In the afternoon, the younger children always came to play. Aerith was like their big sister, always cleaning up their scraped knees, sharing with them her homemade snacks, and teaching them about nature. Squall loved listening to her melodic laughter. She was always laughing. Always cheerful.

One day during a raging thunderstorm, almost everyone stayed inside. Except for Aerith. The church had just lost another chunk of roof after one of Ansem's failed experiments caused an earthquake and Aerith was determined to shield her flowers from flooding. Armed with a tarp and ladder that she had discreetly borrowed from Cid's garage, she climbed to the top of the building. The roof was slick with slimy moss and rainwater, and her shoes kept sliding. It was hard to stay level while dragging the tarp, and she kept swaying. Drenched, freezing, but undeterred, she pressed on. Taking short, measured steps, Aerith managed to reach the gaping hole. Jagged layers of wood, stone, and insulation peeked out like a messy cake. Down below, large puddles buoying fallen petals had pooled around the floor. If she didn't act soon, the church was going to turn into an indoor pond.

Aerith unfurled the tarp and started fastening some rope around a loose, wooden beam. But just then, a howling wind blew past her. It pulled up the tarp, yanking it out of her hands. On reflex, she lurched forward to grab it, but lost her balance. Her stomach churned as she realized she was falling. With wide, unblinking eyes, she stared up at the black sky realizing that the storm clouds would be the last thing she ever saw.

When her slender body plummeted to the earth, there was no crack or snap. Did the flowers cushion her fall, or did the puddles? But then, where was the splash?

While most people didn't like the rain, Squall reveled in its solitude. There was some strange comfort in getting pelted by the droplets as he pushed his way past them and the wind. They were testing him—his strength, his mettle, his resolve—and he would persevere. Even when hurricanes ripped out the air in his lungs or ice storms froze the blood in his limbs, he would always push back and carry on. It was a different kind of training with a different kind of noise separate from the din of city life. More wholesome and grounding. It made him feel alive, like he had purpose. To push back. To survive.

During bad weather, he always made a pilgrimage to the waterfall just outside town in order to lose himself in the rush of earthly sounds and wrath. His path home always led past the church, usually with his hands stuffed into his pockets and a scarf wrapped around his face. Eyes almost always downcast, focusing on his footing. But this time, a sudden flash of lightning stole his attention. As the bolt cracked across the sky, it illuminated Aerith's silhouette.

Squall stopped just for a moment, then bolted. He knocked back the gate and charged into the church. His arms outstretched, he slid to catch her just as she came crashing down. They both fell flat into the waterlogged lilies.

It took a moment for him to recover his senses. After being struck like that, the room was spinning. His wet, white shirt was streaked with mud and petals. Disoriented, he went to move his arms, but they were underpinned by Aerith's limp body. Squall forced himself to focus. She was unconscious and her skin felt clammy. He had to move her somewhere dry. Carefully, gently, he lifted her and brought her to one of the corner pews. Laying her flat, he took off his black jacket and used it as a makeshift blanket.

Aerith looked comfortable enough, at least for the time being. More muddied than bruised, at any rate. Squall's eyes lingered on her soft, round face. He brushed her wet hair away from her eyes and wiped some dirt from her cheek before turning to leave. Even if she probably didn't need a doctor, he didn't want to risk it. But just as he started walking away, his arm was tugged back. Shocked, Squall almost gasped. He turned to see Aerith holding his hand, smiling. Squall didn't know what to do. His heart was pounding. A whirlwind of thoughts smashed around in his head, paralyzing him with fear and doubt until he felt the incredible urge to flee.

But he didn't. He just squeezed her hand and smiled back.


After an almost endless trek through the darkness with no food, water, or rest, Aerith suddenly stopped and Riku almost tripped over her.

"What happened?" he asked, opening his eyes. What he saw answered his question. The pitch black abyss had opened up onto the shores of an eerie beach. Riku's mouth went dry. Did his prayer work? Did he will a beach to come to him? He looked at Aerith and wondered if she was some kind of witch like Maleficent.

"Spooky," Aerith said, walking forward examine an obsidian boulder that contorted into spiked spirals and archways. She poked at it a bit, noting the deceptively smooth surface.

Meanwhile, Riku was shuffling towards the shore. Every tendon in his body was screaming for rest. Not being picky, he plopped down on the first place that didn't have any thorny spots. The relief he felt could never be overstated. As he relaxed, he gazed out at the eerily calm waters. An ethereal blue sun hung in the distance just over the horizon. Or was it a moon? Did it even matter? Everything about it gave him the creeps, but also strangely piqued his curiosity. He always wanted to see other worlds—their oddities and curios. Destiny Islands certainly didn't have any blue astral bodies.

At some point, Aerith tired of exploring and sat down next to Riku. It felt good to be off her feet, but she didn't want to linger. Something felt off about that place. The air was heavy, and even if she couldn't see any, she knew there were eyes watching her. It all felt so suffocating, especially with a veritable dead end right in front of them. The black ocean looked like it went on forever and they didn't have a boat to cross. Worries and fears started buzzing like pests, so she started to pray again.

Riku, however, didn't follow suit. He sat there quietly wondering what to do next. Looking around didn't yield much by way of ideas. There weren't any trees to chop for raft materials. No sources of food like fish or mushrooms. He wasn't even sure the water was safe to drink. "We need a plan," he said after a while, his voice low, dry, and weak.

"Working on it," Aerith said, not opening her eyes.

"You can't be serious." When no reply came, Riku leaned back to lay flat. He was thinking of taking a nap, but he just had to know. "Did I do this?"

"What?"

"This," he said, gesturing around at the black sea—but of course Aerith couldn't see that. "I was praying for a beach."

"Well, you got one. Maybe be a bit more specific next time?"

"How?" Riku shot back up again, riled. "I was picturing my home. Clear, blue oceans and skies, not whatever this is."

"Ah, but you're forgetting one thing," Aerith said, finally looking at him. She held up an index finger to emphasize her point and just about shoved it in Riku's face. "We're inside the Darkness. So you'll need to be more practical."

"Practical?"

"Practical." And with that, Aerith closed her eyes again and got back to her prayers.

"This is practically insane," Riku grumbled, clasping his hands. After closing his eyes, he found himself back on the island. This time, instead of leaning against the paopu tree, he pictured standing on a dock stretched far into the sea. There was a boat there—the one he used to row out from the mainland. He stepped into it, carefully sitting down as it ebbed on the water. Now he just needed to grab the oars and paddle himself out into the blue.

A sudden bell chimed and Riku's eyes flew open. There, in the distance just underneath the pale, blue sun, was a small light punching through the fog. As it drew closer, its bell tolled louder. Soon, a wooden skiff rowed into view, navigated by a tall, hooded figure working the single oar.

"Looks like we both got what we wanted," Aerith said, standing up and dusting herself off.

"What do you mean?" Riku followed Aerith, who had walked closer to the shore to await the boat. It slowly made its way to them, magically able to avoid getting lodged in the sand as it washed up on shore. That's when Riku got a closer look at the seafarer. Underneath the ragged, black hood was a bone white skull staring right back at him.

"Toll for the Ferryman?" he said in a creaky voice, extending his bony hand.