The Moon Wears Silver: Dive to the Heart

[crown_of_guilt]

Title: The Moon Wears Silver: Prologue: Dive to the Heart
Author: Anakha and heartkicker_inc
Genre: General, AU
Word length: 3757
Sypnosis: In an alternate universe, Sora was removed from the picture long before the rivalry with Riku could come to a head. In this universe, Riku must become the Keyblade wielder and face his greatest fears and the ghosts of his past.
Pairings: None
Notes: This was written ages ago, originally. It's been edited. Also, heavy symbolism. If you want a guide to that, I can give it.



"It all seemed like the beginning of a dream...

…But the dream was just the beginning."
Two friends walk up from the beach, one with their hands resting behind their head. Two little boys, best of friends, one only the age of six. Short, silver hair and bright eyes of a color his mother had called cyan, or so his father had told him.

“Today was fun! Wasn’t it, Riku!?” the other asks excitedly. The one named Riku gives a big grin and a nod as they walk up the road, bathed in the dimming red of the sunset. The little town isn’t too far from the beach, and so the two walk slowly.

“It was! And tomorrow…” A wide grin as ideas flow through the child’s skull. He can feel the gaze of his friend, but he remains quiet. The protests of the other boy are ignored, until they come to a small intersection.

“…Tomorrow, we check out the Secret Place.”

An audible gasp is heard from the other, quickly followed by an excited cheer. His grin growing wider, Riku lets his hands fall to his sides as he starts to walk off-only pausing for a moment.

“…I’ll see you tomorrow…”

A flash of static across the cyan-eyed boy’s vision. For a moment, the world blinks out into black and white flecks with nothing but the annoying sound that accompanies it.

“…Right, --?”

As the silver-haired little boy turns around to take a look at his friend, as he’s waving goodbye… …Just as the other boy is supposed to come into his field of vision, the static conquers once more. But it’s not a momentary flicker this time. It remains, obstructing anything else from being heard or seen…

~*~

The first thing he knows is the feeling of wind whipping past him. The second is moisture collecting in droplets and dribbling upward along his form. It’s from these two things he’s able to determine that he’s falling downward through something wet-most likely a cloud, logic dictates. He feels so heavy, though. He can’t even get his eyes open. Perhaps it’s the speed, but he can’t move anything. And it scares him.

Suddenly, there’s water rushing past. A saltiness bursts in his mouth, the familiar taste of the sea, he guesses, from right off the islands. He’ll always remember its taste. He’d been swimming since he was very, very small-before he can remember. Down, down, down he sinks, slowing the entire time. He manages to eventually become aware enough to flip himself around. Bright eyes are opened, and he notes that the flip is like some sort of cue, because a second later there’s solid ground beneath his feet.

His cyan gaze is cast about, taking in the dark depths of the ocean. He can breathe, he finds-an oddity he’s not about to question because it means he’s alive, and really, he’d just survived a fall from who-knows-where into the depths of the ocean. A quick look up tells him how deep he is. Sunlight can’t even begin to penetrate down here. That makes this the… The abyssal zone of the ocean. A quick recollection from science class, not that it’s helping much.

A single step taken to turn around and search for some sort of landmark, is abruptly met by the light feeling of feathers-soft as what he imagines his mother’s kisses would have been like-against his skin catches his attention. Cyan eyes snap to the birds as they fly off into the distance, leaving him painfully aware of a bright glow beneath his feet.

He also notices that the water is mysteriously gone.

The silver-haired teen doesn’t take time to see what’s depicted on the large circle of stained glass. He just knows it’s lots of yellows and greens and blues, with a splash of white and, most noticeably, a bright patch of red.

“So much to do, so little time...”

The teen jumps, suddenly on guard as he looks around. But there’s no one there to speak, no one except the endless abyss beyond the stained glass platform. A chill runs up his spine at the revelation.

“Take your time. Don’t be afraid.”

It’s reassuring, despite how creepy a disembodied voice is. It’s kind, and warm, and oh-so familiar-like something out of a distant dream or memory long forgotten.

“The door is still shut.”

There’s a loud ringing at this, light beginning to break through the endless black to shine on him. For a moment, he can almost make out a fleeting form standing before him. Arms are extended, a white dress, bare feet. A flash of silver hair and brilliant eyes that match his own, he thinks…?

“Now, step forward. Can you do it?”

Oh, so it’s challenging him now? With one last quick glance around, cautious footsteps carry him to where the light-woman had been. Eyes shift up to the light in the distance, and a sudden urge seizes him-the urge to reach out to it like it’s an old friend. The ringing sound returns, bringing a visible wince to him. The light fades, leaving him alone on the glowing platform with a dull headache. As he’s rubbing his forehead, the sound returns as, suddenly, a small pedestal bursts through the glass. Somehow, though, the rest of the glass is unharmed. Really, will anything surprise him now?

“Power sleeps within you.”

His attention is drawn to the pedestal, eyes lingering on it as a small, pinprick of light forms, then bursts. There forms a simple shield-black with red trim and a red design of three conjoined spheres, two smaller atop a larger to either side.

“If you give it form…”

A second pedestal appears in the same fashion. Another pinprick of light that explodes. A strange staff-green shaft, gold at the end and the section connecting the brown placement with its strange, blue crystal-forms.

“It will give you strength.”

Another pedestal bursts upward. Attention drawn from the staff, he watches as another pinprick bursts, this time forming a beautiful sword. Glistening blade of silver, golden hilt with blue grip, and a red inlay. A fine sword, so he believes.

“Choose well.”

A veiled warning if he ever heard on. With an uncomfortable glance between the three, he walks up to the sword, reaching out to it. When he can’t quite reach the hilt, he carefully jumps up to the pedestal and grips it, placing the flat of the blade in the opposite palm. A beautiful sword, unstained and heavy. Cool metal rests across his palm, giving him a soothing feeling as he examines it.

“The power of the warrior. Invincible courage. A sword of terrible destruction.”

Another chill up the boy’s spine as he hears this. Though he’s quickly getting used to its presence, he isn’t used to what it says, or the gravity he can almost sense behind it. Like, perhaps, the fate of something depends on this.

“Is this the power you seek?”

For the first time since arriving here-wherever ‘here’ is-he finds he’s asked his own opinion. He turns the blade gently in his hands, contemplating this before glancing to the staff. However…

“…Yeah. Something just feels right about this one.”

A sudden burst of light, and he’s almost falling off the pedestal. The sword is gone, vanishing into his hand with the shimmering explosion.

“Your path is set.”

With a shaky breath, he slowly turns to take in the other two. Two other things-shield and staff. And the weight seems to be increasing. A shudder…

“Now, what will you give up in exchange?”

The weight has definitely increased. Give up? What? Why? A soft gulp as he leaps down, slowly walking to the shield. A hand is reached up, brushing gently over it. With a heavy sigh, he leaps up, holding it in his hands.

“The power of the guardian. Kindness to aid friends. A shield to repel all.”

It almost seems fitting, some part of him says. The memory… What began this. It’s with a heavy heart that he waits for what’s said next.

“You give up this power?”

Asked as if he’s unsure. He just gives a nod, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to watch. The light filters through his shut lids, a pang of guilt seeming to stab him full in the chest-like he’s betraying someone.

“You’ve chosen the power of the warrior. You’ve given up the power of the guardian. Is this the form you choose?”

Cyan eyes gaze upward in determination. All the answer it needs, it seems, for immediately, the three pedestals sink down into the glass at odd angles. He stumbles off and into the middle. The silver-haired boy looks around wildly, his heart racing, adrenaline pumping. Something’s wrong, it must be. Did he make the wrong choice? There are just way too many possibilities! The tinkling sound of glass shattering catches his ear. His eyes seek out the source, and suddenly, every edge is breaking apart, leaving him with nowhere to run. His heart pounds in his ears, drowning out the shimmering glass as it disintegrates.

Suddenly, there’s nothing beneath him. He watches the glass fall almost in slow motion, breaking into smaller and smaller fragments before they’re just tiny green and yellow heart outlines. The fear makes him want to black out. He’s falling again. This time, into a seemingly endless abyss. Cyan eyes are squeezed shut, the boy biting his lip to force himself to not scream.

He isn't sure how long it is he's falling-seconds, minutes, an hour-but it seems like an eternity before he feels that strange, warm light on his face. When his eyes crack, he sees below him a beautiful stained glass surface, similar to the other but differently colored. Blues trimmed with purple, depicting a young woman in a ballgown. Before he knows it, he's flipped by some invisible force that slows him, allowing him to land on the glass with his feet. Suddenly, the sword appears in his hand.

"You've gained the power to fight."

It sounds amused-far too amused to make him comfortable. He swings the sword, a testing move to get used to the weight. It's different from what he's used to-metal instead of wood, heavy with a mysterious weight knotted in his chest. Goosebumps prick over his skin, the hair on the back of his neck raising slightly like he can feel something is about to come.

"Use this power to protect yourself and others."

...Oh. That might explain the unnatural weight to the sword. For a moment, he stands there, looking over the shimmering silver of the blade. However, movement suddenly catches his eye. He looks up, focusing on the black mass as it manifests, squirming and writhing as it raises from the ground in a grotesque fashion.

"There will be times you have to fight."

More and more of the strange, black masses form, writhing into existence until they are dancing mockeries of small, barely human shapes with bulging eyes that glow gold and wiggling, disjointed antennae. His throat tightens with an unexplained fear-a natural instinct to be wary and run from these creatures. He can't help but want to flee, his fight-or-flight instincts screaming to run. Except there's nowhere to run.

"Keep your light burning strong."

That's it in advice? Really? But before he has time to contemplate it, the wiggling antennae of the creatures seem to detect him. They're suddenly leaping at him, claws bared and barely-distinguishable mouths with sharp teeth bared grinning at him. If they could be drooling, he figures, they would be. Still, there's danger, and instinct tells him to use the sword.

He swings it, tearing through one, then another. Black smoke rises and purple-black gunk streaks the once pristine blade. But he doesn't care-he's fighting for his life. He has to get out of here, get back home to his family and friends. To Kairi. To- What's his name? The one who left a long time ago? And why can't he remember?

Suddenly, the creatures are retreating, vanishing back into the same strange masses they arrived from. Perhaps fleeing from his blade, but he doubts it. He's not skilled enough to scare these things, especially when he's already leaning on the stained sword and panting. It's much heavier than his wooden sword back home. He doesn't notice the creature appearing in its black mass, squirming off to behind him where it hopes to gain the advantage.

"Behind you!"

He spins as it jumps, tearing through it with the sword. It vanishes in a chilling mist that keeps moving in the direction it had been going-right through him. He shudders, but this is no time to stop. There are more of those things, and he's once more fighting for his life, tearing the monsters to pieces with the blade. He keeps fighting, sweat on his brow and dribbling down his face, until they seem to retreat again.

But something is wrong. Instead of the black masses disappearing, they spread. More and more appear, choking out the stained glass, fogging it and drowning it until there's nowhere left to stand. The black gives way beneath his feet, and he finds himself sinking despite his struggles. He reaches toward the light in the swirling mists above, eyes wide with fear. But it's short-lived-he's soon drowning in that endless black, struggling against it as it seems to attempt to devour him. He can feel it tugging at something, trying to pull it from him, to snuff out the light in his-

The ground is cold beneath him and he can breathe again. He gasps for breath, aware of the stained glass beneath him. He doesn't pay attention to what it depicts this time, just that it's there and that he's thankful for it. After a moment's rest, he forces himself to his feet, looking around. A single ray of light shines down on a transparent door. He approaches, and reaches for it-only for his hand to go through. Won't open, huh? Quietly, he turns his face toward the light, silently asking what it wants him to do.

Another beam shines down on the opposite end of the pillar. With a spark of light, a red and gold ornate chest appears. The message is clear, so he walks over with an exasperated sigh. He bends down, forcing the chest open. Inside is a green bottle with liquid in it. Huh. A potion. He hadn't had one of those since he was smaller. He quietly takes it, tucking it into a pocket for now. With a shimmer, the door becomes less transparent.

"That's more like it," he mutters under his breath, approaching. He's already tired of being toyed with by whatever is using him for entertainment. He places a hand on the ornate wood, getting a feel for it, before actually taking the silver handle in hand. But it doesn't budge. Confused, he backs up. And then, suddenly, it cracks and opens on its own, a brilliant light spilling forth. Reluctantly-but having nowhere else to go-he steps forward and into the white light.

Suddenly, he finds himself on the familiar rebuilt remains of a boat. Three people surround him, familiar faces all. A girl and two boys from home. In fact, it very much seems he is home. But their oddly unresponsive behavior tells him he's not.

"Hold on. The door won't open just yet. First, tell me more about yourself."

Oh, it has to be kidding him! But he grumpily looks around. Well, it looks like that's what his friends are here for. Quietly, he approaches the first. For a moment, the girl goes about her business before looking up to him.

"What's the most important to you? Being number one? Friendship? Your prized possessions?" she asks, tilting her head slightly in a highly unnatural way. He shivers, tries to ignore it, and his answer is prompt: "Friendship."

"Is friendship such a big deal?"

The question is strange, but she goes back to ignoring him. Instead, he turns his attention to the shorted of the two boys, standing in a corner on his own. When he approaches, the boy suddenly reacts.

"What are you so afraid of?" he asks. He's taken aback by the question. Does he seem scared? He contemplates this a moment, then realizes...

"Being indecisive."

It's said firmly, without any hint of hesitation. He can't afford to be indecisive anymore. ...Why is that? What will happen if he's indecisive? Is he going to lose-

"Being indecisive? Is that really so scary?"

And, like the girl, he goes back to ignoring him, leaving only the taller boy. He hesitantly walks up to him, thoroughly creeped out by all of this. What's going on? Why is this voice using his friends?

"What do you want outta life?"

The question is asked before he realizes, and he thinks for a moment before nodding. Of course: he'd always wanted that. Why would it be any different?

"To be strong."

A brief memory flares up. A man on the beach with strange armor on his shoulder, strong shoulders. He'd asked him a similar question, right? But there was someone else there. The person he wanted to be strong for. Who was he-?

"To be strong, huh?"

He's broken from his thoughts in an instant as the older boy speaks. But then, they're fading, vanishing into thin air, and he can feel the presence of that voice again. It's heavy, almost like someone leaning against his back, but he knows no one is back there.

"You want friendship. You're afraid of being indecisive. You want to be strong."

The voice goes silent, as if contemplating. The weight suddenly lifts, and it speaks again, sounding almost bored.

"Your adventure begins in the dead of night. Your road won't be easy, but a rising sun awaits your journey's end."

He hesitantly nods, accepting this. He doesn't really like the sound of this, especially with how that voice has been yanking his chain all this time. Finally, though, he feels a strange movement in the air.

"The day you will open the door is both far off and very near."

Everything is suddenly bathed in bright white. He shields his eyes this time, arm over his face to protect himself from being blinded. When it clears and he can see again, he finds himself once more on stained glass. Reds and purples this time, though. He walks forward, hands shoved in pockets, until he notices those strange masses appearing again. Cursing to himself, the sword is in hand once more as he begins to shred through the beasts until none are left. He finds it gets easier to fight as time goes on and more of the creatures come at him. But in the end, they are vanquished.

Light shines down and a pool of strange, green light appears. He walks over, hesitantly touching it. Suddenly, his strength is restored. He's no longer tired or hurt, completely refreshed. As he stands and looks himself over, the beam moves over to the edge. Stained glass stairs form, leading up to another pillar. Nowhere else to go, huh. He shakes his head and jogs to the stairs, beginning his trek up to the other pillar. No going back now, he supposes, with how far he's come-not that he's had a choice, really.

On the new pillar, he looks back. The stairs vanished behind him, it seems, so there's nowhere else to go. He walks forward.

"What do you want from me!?"

The light just shines down, calm as ever.

"The closer you get to the light, the greater your shadow becomes."

Confused, he looks back. Sure enough, his shadow is dark and long. But what's wrong with it is that it rises from the ground and becomes a giant, dark version of himself. Shocked, he lets out a yelp and stumbles back, watching as the shadow begins to change.

"But don't be afraid."

He's running out of glass. The thing has changed completely into a monster now, and he can only stare up at it in horror. Those gold eyes are just like the monsters from before, and he can tell they seem hungry. This time, though, it's much bigger, and he can't help but feel even more lost and afraid.

"And don't forget..."

He turns on his heel and runs, but soon finds nowhere else to go. In fact, he nearly falls right off the pillar. In the end, he has to turn back, face the monster. Sword in hand, he takes it on, slashing and hacking at the arms, dodging strange sphere of energy. His heart is racing, pounding loudly in his ears. He's afraid-very afraid. One wrong move and he dies, and this thing can summon the smaller things.

Suddenly, the sword is gone from his hand. He can't feel it, sense it, whatever. He leaps back, dodging the creature as it attempts to smash him with its giant fist. He falls on his rear as it slams its other fist into the stained glass, and next thing he knows, there's something colder than said glass beneath him. He can only stare up into those golden eyes in fear as the creature bends over him, slowly lowering as if to gobble him up.

"-But don't be afraid."

The voice is different-more familiar. Images flash through his mind. A man with brown hair. Shoulder armor. Hakama. Blue eyes the color of the sea smiling down at him as the power to protect the ones he loves is offered to him with a poem.

"You hold the mightiest weapon of all."

He turns on his belly, reaching for the glass but not quite making it. He's fighting, his memory a tangle of images and memories. Static interrupts every now and then. His eyes were the same color as-

"So don't forget..."

He rolls back onto his back. The creature is almost face to face with him, and his mind goes blank with fear, settling on pure white.

"You are the one who will open the door."

Suddenly, even though the darkness has swallowed him, he doesn't feel so afraid. In the white, for a moment, he swears he makes out the figure of the man with the armor. With a faint smile, feeling safe and reassured, everything goes black.