[Thread] Castles they might crumble
Characters: AU!Roxas, AU!Terra
Where: Mui-Eksi
When: After this entry.
Summary: Terra invites Roxas over to meet him and try to figure out what's going on.
Warnings: None that I can think of.
( Dreams may not come true )
Where: Mui-Eksi
When: After this entry.
Summary: Terra invites Roxas over to meet him and try to figure out what's going on.
Warnings: None that I can think of.
( Dreams may not come true )
But maybe it wasn't Sora that had called him there, but someone else. He had felt some sort of magnetic pull to something in this place, but was always unsure as to the source. Xemnas was there, and at first, he thought it might have been some sort of call to come back to the Organization, but he easily declined and lost no sleep over it. Then he thought it might have been Axel, who he couldn't seem to find but knew was there somehow. Days of searching left him with nothing, and it was almost like Twilight Town in reverse; Axel lost and him searching.
And then there was the enigma who first spoke to him when he requested his keys, the one who knew much but spoke little. It had taken him several days just to finally get a name from him, and then...
Sunsets came and went, his mind had practically exploded with pain and he could see him clearly in his mind's eye, the tall warrior in armor, his idol and friend, his mentor and someone he admired.
He didn't know what to think anymore.
It didn't take him long to find the appropriate set of rooms, and then he knocked, brushing his hair back a little out of nervousness.
Terra...
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Terra turned quickly, snapping from his thoughts as he reached for the doorknob. There he met with another fraction of hesitation but it was soon overcome, forgotten outright. He pulled the door open with a twist of its round handle and immediately dropped his head into a bow, returning to old customs once used to greet strangers at the doors of his Master’s castle. He averted his gaze from the shorter figure with the gesture but as he straightened up again, his body froze to the spot, one hand still loosely grasping the door. He stood there, staring with an expression of astonishment that the hood served to mask.
Ven.
The boy was practically a mirror image of his friend. Shock mingled with a dusting of that terrible hope again.
“You look just like him,” Terra spoke softly, the awe finally tapering away a bit as he took a step back. He looks just like you.
Numbly, he wondered which comparison was true.
To regain his composure, he pushed back the uneasy flickers of emotion- eight, nine, ten years- and squared his shoulders, his posture strong and proud again. He kept quiet at first, sorting through the mess of thoughts that had formed after his awkward greeting, but he figured words weren’t quite necessary yet. Nothing specific, anyway. He would have to come to terms with the kid’s appearance first.
How was it even possible? He had an idea... a decent idea confirmed once before by the admission of others, but he wasn’t ready to settle on that explanation when he knew so little.
“You must be Roxas,” he said at last, thinking more of the wind than of hollow shells. Again he dipped his head, though his eyes refused to take their leave of the boy’s face. Those eyes- he knew those eyes. That hair was unmistakable. Not just idle fancies of long lost friends. He wasn’t- he couldn’t possibly be imagining this.
No, there had to be more to it. Much more. It would just take time to understand. Time and patience.
“Come in,” he stepped to the side to make way for the other to pass into the room.
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He knew Terra somehow. He knew it. But where?
Roxas couldn't sleep at night anymore without falling asleep and wondering who the armored warrior was. He could even hear his voice sometimes, or so he thought, the kindness behind it, calling him friend and thanking him for something.
He had to know.
When the door opened, he looked surprised to see a cloaked man, but it was easily recognizable that it must have been Terra. Hiding again. The bow threw him for a loop; he didn't know if he should respond in kind or to wave it off and say they were friends and there was no need.
Instead, he neatly bowed his head alone in greeting. "Yeah...it's me," he said, stepping inside with a small half-smile. "Thanks for letting me come by."
Close now, it was stronger, that feeling, that connection he had no name for. He began to wonder if the ache in his chest was a result of all of this as well, and the ringing in his head, alarms going off that he should know what was going on, and unfortunately could not.
But from here, it was a bit easier to see Terra's figure, as hidden as it might have been. The armor would have made him seem bulkier...this set of garb made him seem thinner, sleeker, and it fit the mental image he had made of his new, or old, friend.
"...Is everything really okay? You sounded urgent on the network."
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He shut the door a minute later and laid a hand on Roxas’s shoulder to gently push him toward a divided bedroom. While he trusted his roommate, Rose, and believed she wouldn’t mind him bringing company by, one of the other two draftees assigned to Mui-Eksi had some sort of personal issue with humans. Terra knew he could be a threat and wasn’t going to take the risk of letting the creature learn about his friend. The knight was confident that he could fight the menace if necessary, but who knew just how much Ven had progressed- or how experienced Roxas was in wielding his Keyblades.
“There is something I need to talk to you about,” he admitted, guiding the blond into the side room then hanging back outside the doorway to double-check the surrounding quarters for any hint of the less pleasant roommate. Satisfied that the beast-man in question was nowhere to be found, Terra stepped in and closed the door behind him.
He had left his helmet out and it sat square on the foot of his bed. The rest of his armor had been temporarily dismissed along with his Keyblade, but he’d kept that piece around as confirmation of the boy’s earlier description of it. The mix of metal and glass meant to act both as a possible bait for memories and as a subtle message that Terra had given in this time, too: days ago he had adamantly refused to discuss certain subjects. He’d kept so many secrets from the boy. Now, especially after having seen Roxas’s appearance, he was more willing to fill him in on what he knew.
If it compromised the dual wielder’s safety in any way... Terra decided he would make up for it later.
“I should have spoken with you earlier. You need to be able to recognize all of the threats here at the compound,” Terra moved around him, circling the kid once then stopping in front of him. In a way it did feel all too stuffy and all too formal, but Terra wasn’t sure how else to handle the matter.
“I’m sorry.”
It’d been so long.
“As I told you, my name is Terra,” the troubled feeling from before persisted. As he watched those blue eyes, he began to realize something really was amiss. Or was at the very least misplaced. But what? The downfall of the Nobodies- those without hearts? He couldn’t accept that. He wouldn’t. Roxas, or Ven, or whoever he was... There was strength in his eyes, there was emotion in the smallest of his smiles.
Denial, a voice spoke up helpfully and the soldier snarled.
“I had a friend once,” he explained once the rage had settled. His hand lifted, fingers spread and palm out as he placed it just inches away from the boy’s chest. Where are you? The gesture was as fleeting as his bow had been. There and gone in the blink of an eye, “I lost him. I wasn’t quick enough.”
He sighed, not stalled by sorrow but rather by a simple inability to fit the right words together. So much to say. Where was he supposed to begin?
“I never thought he was in so much danger,” he tried again, glancing at his helmet. That wasn't exactly right either. He had known about the danger. Hadn't they all known? He’d looked up- he’d looked up and that man had him, held him like a toy or some sort of rag doll. And by the time he’d gotten back up, it was too late. Too late to be anything, too late to protect what needed protection. Too late to save something, anything, anyone. Aqua, Ven.
“The man my friends and I fought against... he’s here in name. That’s part of the reason why I want to talk to you today.”
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Stepping inside, it immediately felt somewhat cozy to him, and he turned, stopping dead in his tracks, eyes widening. The helmet sat on the bed like an ancient artifact, polished and perfect, the light from the room glinting off of the glass visor, catching his stare and throwing it right back at him. It was exactly as he thought, remembered, with the two pieces that stood up like odd ears.
He had been right.
"Will this fit me?" The voice rang in his head, his own, briefly, before it was followed by:
"Try it on and see."
The second voice was unmistakably Terra's, a firm stone against the wave of images that followed, flashing behind his eyes before he could stop them. A desert, armor glinting in the setting sun, endless training and traveling to worlds, the late nights and cold mornings...the end of a day and a sudden feeling of helplessness. And then, the sharp pain of ice in his lungs, and he forced himself to finally breathe and focus.
Tearing his eyes away from the object, he looked up at Terra, trying to catch his eyes through the dark of the hood, to keep a level of eye contact with him. What color were his eyes anyway? He wasn't sure...something told him it was one color, but then...
Everything was upside down. He couldn't keep up. Briefly touching a hand to his head and closing his eyes, he then looked back up at his friend and nodded, looking briefly at his outstretched hand. "Your friend?"
Something brushed him, brushed where his heart would be, or was, and he looked up at him. "Who is this? And who hurt your friends?"
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It was a simple truth he had accepted years ago. Speaking of it brought him no pain (his rage helped with that), but he did grimace through the flash of one particular memory: the look Aqua had given him shortly before she too was ruined. He’d had nothing to say when their eyes had met from a distance, nothing to shout nor whisper to console her. No reassurance or apology would have been enough. And he’d been too angry then to even consider such things.
He turned his head away, focusing on a faraway point beyond the walls around them as he debated what more to say. What did Roxas really need to know?
His avoidance was cut short when he noticed a slight change in the boy’s posture. A body gone too still one moment then looking too weary the next. Weary or bothered or something more. Something Terra couldn’t pinpoint offhand. His own heart sank as he watched Roxas out of the corner of his eye and he finally shook his head. Walking over to the bedside, he picked up his helmet, his hands wandering over the fused joints between solid red and black. The metal was lightly scarred, marked with tiny chips and ghost lines where the armor had once been damaged and later repaired.
“One of my friends was skilled with magic,” he picked at the subject softly as he returned to stand in front of the other wielder. A boy or maybe closer to a man now. Someone ready to face the world, “Her abilities with magic were unrivaled among the other apprentices in the kingdom. She was remarkable to watch during training... to work with the Keyblade in such a way. It was a gift. My Master knew as much.”
“My other friend,” fingers grazed over glass and with a nod he dismissed his helmet, “Could have run circles around us and... he usually did. He was swift in battle, very fast... but his real strength was in his heart. He was always... always brave. Maybe too brave. He got ahead of himself a few times there. You could always tell when you saw him, though, that he was going to outshine all the rest of us. I knew it.”
Even if I didn’t always want to admit it.
Terra paused, inhaling slowly.
“My enemy carries the name of Xehanort now. He's the one who hurt them,” he recited, turning toward the far wall and walking slowly toward it, “He’s here but he’s been changed. I know he will be a threat again someday. You need to keep an eye out and avoid him whenever possible. He might be more dangerous now than ever before. Don’t let your guard down. I’m sure you know by now that there are a lot of strangers in this world. A few of them might even rival Xehanort’s power.”
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Both of them? It was small wonder that Terra almost seemed enclosed, not wanting to see him. To lose your best friends... He thought of Axel, of catching glimpses of him fading away, his words penetrating that barrier between him and Sora, and how it had been his fault that his best friend was dying, disappearing. That stung too, made him feel guilty in the worst ways possible. Is that what had happened to Terra as well?
It would make sense. The cloak was hiding his face and his eyes, as though something had actually happened to physically change him...or perhaps he just didn't want to form actual attachments, for fear of losing them like the others.
The helmet was serving as some sort of catalyst, keeping him in place, not letting him stray from the man. It made his head hurt, and he wanted to touch it with a hand, to feel the metal smoothness that he could swear he had felt a million times before. There was something there, a far-off memory, long ago forgotten by a binding still upon him.
Nodding slowly, taking it all in, he snapped a bit more to attention upon his description of his female friend. Again, that familiarity. Roxas' mouth opened once to ask for her name, but he closed it again. Better to let the other decide what needed to be said, before the questions.
And then he spoke of another, and Roxas' head lifted for him to look at him, listening intently.
Why do you always say that? I never would have --
That thought paused, interrupted by a name that struck something cold in him, though he had heard it long before.
Xehanort.
He had heard the name several times in the Organization, heard it again from DiZ's lips just before he died. But that didn't make sense. Could they all have been talking about the same man? "...Wait, Xehanort? You mean Xemnas' Other? He's here, and he and Xemnas haven't formed back?" Now that was odd. Then again, he and Sora had been separated, so it wasn't all that unbelievable.
But that wasn't the point.
"He's changed, you said. He's not the same Xehanort that hurt..." - us - "...you before. But you're sure he's the same." A pause, hesitation. "What did he originally look like?"
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Or was he?
“Xemnas’s Other,” he mused out loud, addressing both Roxas’s questions and some of his own, “Maybe they haven’t joined together because they’re not from the same universe. It might be that there’s only one true match for each heart. Like pieces of two puzzles... you can’t mix them up. If so, Xemnas would have no use of a heart that didn’t fit him exactly. Maybe that’s why... no, that wouldn’t explain how Xehanort... or how you...”
He glanced back over his shoulder, trying to figure out the blanks left behind by years of sleep and soon coming to the conclusion that it... wasn’t worth his time and frustration. Finding the truth wouldn’t change a thing. And it was leading the conversation with Roxas away from the direction Terra had hoped it would go.
Turning around, he rubbed absently at his left wrist through the cloak, “Maybe in the case of the Xehanort here, he’s already complete. So the Nobody is like... spare parts. There’s no place for him.”
Xe- ha- nort. Still a mystery even now.
Terra left the topic at that and strolled back to Roxas’s side, “What Xehanort once looked like no longer matters. He may never take that exact form again... but you’ll probably notice him around the compound. I think you’ll recognize him seeing as you already know Xemnas.”
His voice was confident again and he smiled under the cover of the hood, “One of the most important lessons you’ll ever learn through the Keyblade is that you can change a lot of things in a person but you can’t make them someone else. Their looks... their clothes, their memories, their name. You can change it all and they’re still the same person inside.”
He tapped a finger on the boy’s chest, “The heart’s the key.”
I’m still learning that myself.
“Also, I need to ask a favor of you. Then... if you have any more questions, I guess I owe it to you to answer them.”
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Looking up to Terra, he shrugged. "It's possible. We always believed that we would need our own hearts in order to regain what we had lost. So, I guess this Xehanort doesn't resonate with Xemnas' existence. He must be disappointed." Or maybe relieved, to know he has another chance to live and try something else.
But something he said... Roxas raised an eyebrow to him curiously. "How I...what?" But the question was easily dismissed and he let it slide, unsure of where Terra was going with this conversation.
Maybe it was simply to warn him of the dangers, or to speak with him about the keyblade, since had not had proper training before in the Organization, and had to learn on his own. The bright side to that was that he had almost known everything he could do with the blades.
He smiled as Terra leaned close, and touched his chest, the gesture oddly affectionate, and his words comforting. Either way, perhaps I'll know who I am one day, whether I'm just a part of Sora, or if I have a heart and exist, like Axel said.
The boy smiled a bit warmer now, glad that Terra might actually be getting used to him, was perhaps opening up. And he might get a few questions quieted in his mind from this. But first things first, and he owed it to his new friend to comply, especially if it was as serious as he believed it might be. "Ask away."
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He wanted the boy’s trust, but he needed him to be safe above all else.
He stood still this time as he began his explanation. Terra knew he had to be thorough without adding in the more harrowing details. That was proving to be more of a challenge than he’d expected. He didn’t want to trouble his friend. Just inform him for his own good and for the benefit of the other young Keyblade wielders that had been relocated to Econtra. Maybe even to bring him one step closer to understanding the past it seemed they shared.
“When I lost my friends to Xehanort, I lost a part of myself as well. I haven’t been allowed to forget that loss,” he stared straight ahead at a light fixture on the wall, not wanting to watch the kid’s all too familiar face as he recalled the night of their downfall. A little too easy to imagine the ice clinging to flesh and armor, to hear the cries that never broke loose from her bowed figure as she held the boy close.
“Because of it, I know there will be a day when I also lose sight of the road I've taken. From what I remember of my...” He stopped unexpectedly, recalling that he hadn’t mentioned the state of sleep and awakening to the blond. He’d have to improvise for now, “Solitude- From what I remember of the years after my friends were defeated, this... change never lasted very long. It was more like a dream then.”
Terra spoke with a serious tone, almost as though he was giving an order as opposed to making a request, “The favor is that I want you to keep away from me at that time. I want you to stay away no matter what anyone says, no matter what I say. I want you to keep the other wielders away as well. Sora, Kairi, Riku... Keep them and yourself safe by any means. That’s what I ask of you. The cuffs are a problem when it comes to the Keyblade, but if you find a way around their effects... don’t hesitate with your instincts.”
He shifted in place, trying to smile and finding the expression impossible, “Trust yourself, my friend.”
Trust that heart of yours.
“Trust yourself before you trust anyone else. If something feels wrong, it probably is. Will you do me that favor?”
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Still, he didn't understand why...Why would Xehanort attempt to do something like that? From what he had heard in Never Was, Xemnas, as Xehanort, had been a scientist, had lost his heart and had become a powerful Heartless and Nobody in the process. No one had ever described him as a killer. Sure, when he became a Heartless, he had taken people's hearts. That was understandable. But as a person?
No. Another. A Master and powerful, versed in magic and strength far superior to us.
...Us? A look of strange understanding crossed his features briefly, until the weight of Terra's words struck him hard. He was asking him to stay away, should he ever stray from his path. But what all did that mean? Would he go dark, like Riku had? Or would it be more subtle? How was he to know?
"W-wait! Terra, you can't just close yourself off when that happens. That's dangerous! You could lose yourself for good by running off and handling this yourself." He was filled again with that strange sense of deja-vu, that he had said something similar before, or perhaps thought it. "You said this happened partly because you lost your friends. Maybe that's all you need...is to find them, or to have your friends now help you. That's all!" It was wishful thinking, and he knew it, biting a little on his lower lip.
The answer was clear. He didn't really have a choice. "...I know. I'll do as you ask, but that doesn't mean I'm going to give up on you, or let you disappear. I'll find a way to help." And even if it comes down to it...I - I can't kill you. But I'll find a way to stop you, if it goes that far.
But he did have one question about the request itself, before anything else. "...Why tell me this? Why not Sora?"
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After clearing his throat, he said, “I don’t want my friends, old and new, to be in danger again. I went into battle with them once and now we’re all paying for what happened on that day.”
While Roxas’s response was frustrating, it was also a pleasant relief. The boy’s determination, his obvious strength. Terra was grateful to hear it all. Even having a disagreement with him was... strangely soothing. He’d gone ages without wind and water there at his side to better shape his rough decisions, to counter him when he went too far.
“My friends are gone,” he repeated a moment later as if that was enough of a point in itself, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t think it’ll get out of hand. There’s the cuff, after all.” Even if it isn’t violence that I want to protect you all from.
Dropping his hand off the boy’s shoulder (and for a split second thinking it odd that the kid didn’t have armor over the joint), he held up his right arm briefly, the cloak’s sleeve sliding back far enough to expose both his black wrist bracer and the cuff that had been fit in just above it.
He nodded when he heard Roxas accept the favor, though, and a sort of weight was lifted off his own shoulders. The other’s little twist on the request could be a problem someday, but Terra figured he would be able to convince the younger wielder not to act if anything happened. He’d bother with that later.
The question that followed the honest reply strengthened his smile. Why not Sora?
Terra moved his hands up to his hood, hesitating slightly before slipping it off his head and letting the red fabric settle over his back. Instinctively one hand shifted to the base of his neck, lifting free the rest of the still-damp hair out from under the bunched cloth. He kept his eyes down but tried to hold on to the smile.
“I told you because someone once told me he was my friend.”
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...so long as he didn't get sniped in the process.
Roxas shook his head, stepping closer only once, hands out for emphasis. "But they're not gone forever. They linger in your heart, and I'm sure that there are ways to get them back. Sora thought Riku was gone forever, and he had descended into the darkness and came back just fine, and stronger still. They could still be alive and okay. You have to have faith. You should be the one trusting yourself more, you and your friends. Bonds like that are hard to break."
And since when did he become the preacher of good things? That was Sora's job, to offer encouragement. Maybe he had taken a lesson or two from the spiky-headed kid.
Slowly, he nodded, letting out a loose sigh. Terra was more hard-headed than he thought, but he could break him down eventually...get him to see how much he was needed there, how much people cared for him. Maybe that would get him to have more faith in his companions.
Looking up at him, Roxas raised a questioning eyebrow, the gesture all too short before his eyes widened and his mouth nearly dropped open at the sight of him. He looked...like...
He looked like the Terra he had known when he first took a step into this place...from far-off memories and scattered dreams.
With words ringing in his ears, he smiled slowly, gently. "Because he helped you, back then." Yes, it was familiar, it was coming back to him, slowly, surely, of gloves, keys, and armor, of desert battles and an dark warrior with no face. "He cared."
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Soberly, he added, “That’s another lesson you’ll learn someday. Not every heart finds a connection with the light. Not every heart can be saved. Sometimes we have to make choices... the right choices so that the right Keyblade wielders can continue their duties. We can’t all defy our fate and live... what was it? Happily ever after? Someone will always be lost in the end.”
That’s what he believed now. Years ago, he would have adamantly agreed with Roxas. That fate could be, had to be, changed and that there was a sliver of hope for him and his friends. He had also thought at that time that they would win the battle and everything would be restored... And he’d been wrong. Instead of a world rebuilt, he’d witnessed its ruin. Instead of a bittersweet homecoming, he’d watched with shadowed disbelief as his friends were sealed over.
Terra faltered, mentally shaking off the image of a darkened beach, “They slept following their defeat. Even if they awakened again... I wouldn’t see them from inside this world, would I? Even if they came here, why would I want to put them at risk again? That’s why I’m warning you. There is a line between the light and the dark and though many serve under the dark successfully, trespassing that wall defies the order. There is no room for faith beyond that point. If my fate leads me there, I’ll go. I’ll fight. And maybe they’ll be awake by then and they’ll be able to return home.”
Swaying Roxas’s opinion was obviously going to be more difficult than he’d figured. Stubborn kid with all his light. Terra sighed as well, but at last smirked and admitted, “He only cared because he didn’t know any better.”
Trying to curb any further retaliation, as worthless an effort as it might have been, he asked with an expectant look, “Now do you have any questions?”
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Roxas shook his head quickly, waving a hand absently. "Forget it, forget I asked," he murmured, looking at him.
"I know keybearers are different from each other. But still, there's no such thing as a right keybearer. You make it sound like...like...natural selection or something. Just because someone's stronger, that doesn't make them the right one. There are many keyblades - Dark, Light, Twilight, Dawn, and everything in between - and that means that they need wielders who resonate with that path. But that doesn't make a Dawntreader any less than a Twilight walker, and those who walk in Dark aren't necessarily evil." He knew, being someone to wield both Oathkeeper and Oblivion, that no one had any set trait. He didn't even know what path he himself walked.
The blond boy sighed, kneading a hand at his head gently. "Headache..." he whispered, mostly to himself, opening one eye to gaze up at his friend. "That doesn't mean they aren't okay. And we'd would much rather be at your side than anything else. I don't know why you always insist on fighting alone." And then he noticed the slip, eyes widening. "...they'd much rather be at your side. Them."
Nice one. Next tell him that you've been dreaming about him. That'll go over well.
His chest was beginning to ache with all of this roundabout, not knowing much of what to say. "...maybe he cared because he actually did? Or because you were important to him."
Lowering his hand from his head, his eyes sought Terra's, determined to know the truth now. "Why wouldn't you see me? What was all of that about on the network?"
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With a sigh of his own, he forced the disappointment to the back of his mind. Didn’t Roxas want to know? Why dismiss such an earnest curiosity? It probably wasn’t his business to know. Instead of worrying over it further, he switched his focus to countering the other’s claims about wielding.
“There is right and wrong among Keybearers, but no... It’s nothing like that. It isn’t strength that determines who’s right. It’s actions and decisions... the difference between using the Keyblade to save a world and using it to ruin a world. The weakest wielder can be in the right if he chooses the better path for himself. It’s those wielders I have to defend: those that have chosen right over wrong even when right wasn’t easy. It shouldn’t matter if a wielder walks in the light or the dark or anywhere in between, but to cross over the line... to break that boundary and turn wholly to Darkness so that the element itself can spill over into every world’s fate... How is that anything but wrong?” He caught himself raising his voice a little too high and felt a twinge of guilt for letting his anger creep up on him, “The dark isn’t always evil, but it’s a tough road to follow without losing your way. Darkness can turn a wielder in ways Light and Twilight can’t.”
Figuring he’d gotten his staid message across, he stopped there. Terra didn’t pick up on his friend’s whisper, but he noticed the boy rubbing at his head. He was about to ask if Roxas was feeling alright- maybe this was too much or too fast for him- but before he could make his concern known, Roxas spoke up with that painfully obvious mixup of words.
Terra said nothing. The only real sign that he’d heard (and understood) him was a twitch at the corner of his lips that brought his smile back.
“I’m seeing you now, aren’t I?” He answered honestly, “I’ve already told you: I wanted to protect you. I wasn’t sure how to do that. And I wasn’t sure... I thought I had sensed something the day you arrived. I wondered if I was imagining it.”
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