[fic][kh] No Second Chance
Title: No Second Chance
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: ~1800
Notes: Genfic. All backstory fics I’ve read for Auron in KH use the FFX canon on Spira. It works with the tiny bits of Auron’s memory we can hear in KHII, but since we can pretty safely assume that nor the Planet of FFVII nor the world of FFVIII exist (characters’ stories share similarities but they come from Radiant Garden), it’s likely that KH!Auron never put a foot in Zanarkand or met Sin. Whom was he the Guardian then?
Huge thanks to fireun for the beta!
Warnings: Spoilers for KHII, completely disregards Birth By Sleep. Might help to have seen the FFvsXIII trailers. Far-fetched and stupid unreliable theories. More notes at the end of the fic.
--------------------------------------------------
Auron doesn’t like remembering the days before he arrived to the Castle. He grew up in the slums of the city, where fighting wasn’t an art nor a tradition, but a necessity for survival. He never learnt how to use a gun, simply because of the difficulties in finding bullets or powder supplies, allowing his sword skills to mature with every fight, every victory, every defeat, every kill. Most of the people around him organized themselves into gangs, whereas he chose to wander alone in the city, no one knowing him and him knowing no one, his soul looking endlessly for something he was unable to name.
Every night finds him sitting in some bar or inn in front of alcohol. He settles himself discreetly in a dark corner of the room and overhears conversations around him. Mostly complaints and rumors, but sometimes he manages to find a job that may be worth a few munny. Tonight, drunkards are particularly derisive and merry.
“Have you heard? It is said that the King is looking for bodyguards.”
“The King? You’re canned, man. He died years ago, leaving some freaky bastard and this whole mess.”
“Well, it seems that his son claimed the Castle and wants to set up an expedition to bring prosperity, or save the world, something like that. It didn’t make sense anyway.”
“Say what you want, I prefer the crap we got here than going to that damned tower and bowing to some weirdo. I’ll piss beer before someone here can even spell the word pro… properstity right.”
Laughter had not yet died when Auron leaves the bar and heads toward the tower overlooking the whole city.
--------------------------------------------------
He meets the prince in the audience hall, sitting still on a massive throne, below the high curved ceiling that makes the room look like a cathedral. They’re alone and Auron can easily guess why no one is willing to pledge any sort of allegiance to the prince. For a long time he talks nonsense, childish dreams of a new era of joy and happiness to follow the current dark age. He wants to set up a journey to find some long-time forgotten artifacts; he’s not afraid to call this mission a “pilgrimage”, as if those Crystals were of divine nature and held the power to change the world. Crazy. Yet the warrior is confused, because of his eyes, so dark, fierce and determined.
Auron is tempted to snort and walk away - whether it’s because he doesn’t believe his interlocutor, or because he feels oddly uneasy around him, he’s not sure - when the prince stands up and walks toward him with slightiest trace of a smile. He offers him a duel to convince him, and the proposition is so surprising, Auron laughs. He looks so young, probably younger than Auron, and almost fragile. But those eyes…
Soon enough, it’s will against will, sword against sword - the prince’s is a heavy one, probably ordered by a rich family at the time smiths still remembered the old traditions, full of secrets and hidden strengths just like its owner. Despite all his skills, Auron finds in the prince a worthy opponent; they’re both swift and precise. Each blow is countered and returned, until they form a blurry cloud of red and dark blue. Fighting against the prince is like experiencing his beliefs, merging with him as his aura and charisma swallows you whole and transforms your existence. Auron has never felt like this before.
For a split second, he spots a weakness in the prince’s defense and his reflexes acts instantly. The sword of his opponent flies into the air and lands close behind Auron’s back, point stuck in the floor. But as Auron is about to claim his victory, the prince teleports behind him and threatens his throat with the edge of his sword. Time freezes.
“…Nice trick,” Auron finally says, as casually as possible. He’s still trying to understand what has just happened; right before he disappeared in front of him, the hair of his opponent had turned white, and his eyes… They were bright orange, otherworldly. For the first time, he realizes he’s indeed ready to die for those eyes, their mysterious power and the future they offer him.
Their breaths are sharp and their muscles are sore from such an intense fight. The prince releases Auron and locks his eyes with his. He only says a few words, but they’re the most important thing the warrior will hear in his whole life.
“Will you follow me?”
--------------------------------------------------
Auron is laughing with the prince on a disused dusty road, outside of the city. The very few locals have an old legend speaking of forgotten Crystals in a cavern nearby, protected by a powerful god. Flying dragons keeps popping up in front of them, but their swords send them to the otherworld without a thought. They have a mission, they’re on their way to save the world and he feels like he will never die. Having a goal makes him immortal.
--------------------------------------------------
Crystals are a phenomenal source of energy. Energy brings prosperity. Prosperity brings jealousy. As the slums shrink back, and wealth and science spread in the city, the respect from the people to their savior grows stronger, and noble families make their intentions clearer everyday. The prince spends now more time discussing in assembly and state councils than fighting monsters in a distant shrine for more Crystals. He skillfully juggles treaties and alliances to maintain a fragile peace.
Then, their supposed allies decide to turn against the prince and start a war to feed on the dead and the ruins of the city.
Hell breaks loose in a single night; there are battalions of soldiers in every street, buildings burns, civilians cry and die. The city is lost, betrayed by power. Close to the Castle, the sight is majestically beautiful, the prince standing alone, facing a whole army. A wall of guns turns to him and start firing, but he raises a graceful arm and the bullets are deflected by the magical shell he’s set around him. He then summons the weapons of his already fallen soldiers, swords of all forms and size, and he cuts deep slashes in the enemies’ ranks.
Auron stands there, himself already heavily wounded, with blood dripping heavily from the gash across his right eye. He’s the last one standing from the prince’s close guard. He can see that despite all his strength and skills, the prince won’t win against a never-ending army; he teleports efficiently from one side of the arena to another, like a lightening of death. But Auron has never seen him have to resort to using so much to his mysterious powers in such a short amount of time, and side effects are already leaving scars, as his hair keeps bleaching and the orange glow in his eyes has never burnt so vividly before. Maybe this fire will never extinguish, should he survive to the night.
The warrior rushes to the side of his prince, telling him to let go and flee.
“It is not too late! Let us turn back!”
But the prince has already made up his mind. He asks Auron to leave him here to slow down the enemy and to run inside the Castle to protect the Crystals. Auron can’t bear it; the meaning of those previous years, his promise to give his life to protect this man, everything would be annihilated.
“But… there must be another way! Your death will mean nothing! You must live!”
The prince just shakes his head - the Crystals are more important, they have the power to protect the people - and returns to the attack. He doesn’t look back to see if Auron will obey, because he knows the strength of the warrior’s loyalty. Auron’s lips let escape a desperate cry, but he turns on his heels and run to the Crystal room. As he passes the heavy doors of the Castle, he doesn’t see the prince get his first wound, a bloody hole in his side.
Despite the efforts of the prince and his guards, the Castle is already invaded. Auron swings savagely his sword at anyone daring to try to block his path. As he finally reaches the room, he witnesses the fall of their civilization, soldiers fighting and murdering each others over the precious Crystals, breaking them in their blind greediness.
Because he was too late and hesitated too long and now everything is lost, he couldn’t protect anything, not the people nor the prince…
His last thought, as a bullet finds its way to his heart and another tears his neck, is a desperate plea to the shattered Crystals, to protect his prince and not let him die. They just keep their eternal eerie gleam, even after Auron’s eyes turn blind and lifeless, and then the Darkness swallows the room and…
--------------------------------------------------
“And then I died. I didn’t fulfill my promise. He probably died not long after me. Maybe if I had stayed to fight alongside my prince, we would have saved the city. But I didn’t. I pretended to be a guardian and in the end I couldn’t save anyone. This is my sin.”
In front of him, Sora was shifting his weight from one foot to another, uneasy. That kid, he came to see him, happy to see that the Coliseum’s reconstruction was doing well, gloating about defeating powerful enemies, saving worlds, becoming a hero; then he had harassed Auron until he agreed to tell his own story. He wasn’t expecting such a reaction from the kid.
Sora exchanged quick looks with his two friends, Donald and Goofy. Clearly, they knew something they were afraid to tell him.
“I… I think we may have met him. Somehow.” Sora started, trying to avoid Auron’s eyes. “He was rescued and saved by an inhabitant of Radiant Garden who took care of him. But after, he-”
“Sora!” Donald interrupted hastily.
“Err… It’s not really important. But, you see! You managed to keep your promise! You don’t have to be so grave all the time!”
“Yes! I’m sure you’re a hero, too!” added Goofy.
Then Donald drifted the conversation to Phil’s new training program, Sora and Goofy joining in with relief. Auron let them talk, wondering if he would have an opportunity to ask Sora about the fate of his prince before he had to return to the dead. More and more pyreflies came floating around him everyday, reminding him he didn’t belong to this world, the world Sora had saved. He would ask about Dark City, too. Did his homeland survive to the war? Did people still pace up and down the endless streets, a prince - no, a king - to look upon them from his tower? Sora would know, or the trio could go check for him.
But given their expressions, he was not sure he wanted to know.
--------------------------------------------------
Long explaining note:
I’ve been playing with this idea for more than a year, since I saw for the first time the first FFvsXIII trailer. My main arguments are:
* TWTNW, Zanarkand and the city we see in the Versus trailer are similar, very dark, with skyscrapers and neon lights and an atmosphere more SF than fantasy. The skycraper’s floor from the trailers looks like the one from Deep Dive.
* “Storm”’s hair becomes grey-ish and his eyes become orange/red when he fights; that’s the features of Xehanort and Xemnas too. “Storm” also utilizes Xemnas’ powers, like teleporting, a blue magical shield, and the use of 13 weapons at once (during the boss fight on the throne).
* Ansem reports relate that Ansem the Wise mysteriously found Xehanort in Radiant Garden when he was amnesic and deadly wounded, and Ansem had deduced that Xehanort came from another world. The very few we know about Versus story is that “Storm” is a prince who protects his world from an invasion during a war about powerful crystals.
Then the FM+ secret ending sort of comforted me (Terra’s eyes become also orange/red when he’s fighting/upset), but still, I was waiting for more info about Versus to avoid making “Storm” an OC completely void, without the tiniest bit of canon to support him. Sadly, BBS obviously intend to reveal Xehanort’s origin, and new pictures of FFvsXIII contradict the “dark image” I get from this game, so my little crack fantasy keeps making less and less sense. That’s why I’m not extremely satisfied with this story, which is very incomplete, but if I don’t post it now, I’ll never do it.
(For keeping with my rambling for so long, you get one of my favorite Auron songs XD)
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: ~1800
Notes: Genfic. All backstory fics I’ve read for Auron in KH use the FFX canon on Spira. It works with the tiny bits of Auron’s memory we can hear in KHII, but since we can pretty safely assume that nor the Planet of FFVII nor the world of FFVIII exist (characters’ stories share similarities but they come from Radiant Garden), it’s likely that KH!Auron never put a foot in Zanarkand or met Sin. Whom was he the Guardian then?
Huge thanks to fireun for the beta!
Warnings: Spoilers for KHII, completely disregards Birth By Sleep. Might help to have seen the FFvsXIII trailers. Far-fetched and stupid unreliable theories. More notes at the end of the fic.
--------------------------------------------------
Auron doesn’t like remembering the days before he arrived to the Castle. He grew up in the slums of the city, where fighting wasn’t an art nor a tradition, but a necessity for survival. He never learnt how to use a gun, simply because of the difficulties in finding bullets or powder supplies, allowing his sword skills to mature with every fight, every victory, every defeat, every kill. Most of the people around him organized themselves into gangs, whereas he chose to wander alone in the city, no one knowing him and him knowing no one, his soul looking endlessly for something he was unable to name.
Every night finds him sitting in some bar or inn in front of alcohol. He settles himself discreetly in a dark corner of the room and overhears conversations around him. Mostly complaints and rumors, but sometimes he manages to find a job that may be worth a few munny. Tonight, drunkards are particularly derisive and merry.
“Have you heard? It is said that the King is looking for bodyguards.”
“The King? You’re canned, man. He died years ago, leaving some freaky bastard and this whole mess.”
“Well, it seems that his son claimed the Castle and wants to set up an expedition to bring prosperity, or save the world, something like that. It didn’t make sense anyway.”
“Say what you want, I prefer the crap we got here than going to that damned tower and bowing to some weirdo. I’ll piss beer before someone here can even spell the word pro… properstity right.”
Laughter had not yet died when Auron leaves the bar and heads toward the tower overlooking the whole city.
--------------------------------------------------
He meets the prince in the audience hall, sitting still on a massive throne, below the high curved ceiling that makes the room look like a cathedral. They’re alone and Auron can easily guess why no one is willing to pledge any sort of allegiance to the prince. For a long time he talks nonsense, childish dreams of a new era of joy and happiness to follow the current dark age. He wants to set up a journey to find some long-time forgotten artifacts; he’s not afraid to call this mission a “pilgrimage”, as if those Crystals were of divine nature and held the power to change the world. Crazy. Yet the warrior is confused, because of his eyes, so dark, fierce and determined.
Auron is tempted to snort and walk away - whether it’s because he doesn’t believe his interlocutor, or because he feels oddly uneasy around him, he’s not sure - when the prince stands up and walks toward him with slightiest trace of a smile. He offers him a duel to convince him, and the proposition is so surprising, Auron laughs. He looks so young, probably younger than Auron, and almost fragile. But those eyes…
Soon enough, it’s will against will, sword against sword - the prince’s is a heavy one, probably ordered by a rich family at the time smiths still remembered the old traditions, full of secrets and hidden strengths just like its owner. Despite all his skills, Auron finds in the prince a worthy opponent; they’re both swift and precise. Each blow is countered and returned, until they form a blurry cloud of red and dark blue. Fighting against the prince is like experiencing his beliefs, merging with him as his aura and charisma swallows you whole and transforms your existence. Auron has never felt like this before.
For a split second, he spots a weakness in the prince’s defense and his reflexes acts instantly. The sword of his opponent flies into the air and lands close behind Auron’s back, point stuck in the floor. But as Auron is about to claim his victory, the prince teleports behind him and threatens his throat with the edge of his sword. Time freezes.
“…Nice trick,” Auron finally says, as casually as possible. He’s still trying to understand what has just happened; right before he disappeared in front of him, the hair of his opponent had turned white, and his eyes… They were bright orange, otherworldly. For the first time, he realizes he’s indeed ready to die for those eyes, their mysterious power and the future they offer him.
Their breaths are sharp and their muscles are sore from such an intense fight. The prince releases Auron and locks his eyes with his. He only says a few words, but they’re the most important thing the warrior will hear in his whole life.
“Will you follow me?”
--------------------------------------------------
Auron is laughing with the prince on a disused dusty road, outside of the city. The very few locals have an old legend speaking of forgotten Crystals in a cavern nearby, protected by a powerful god. Flying dragons keeps popping up in front of them, but their swords send them to the otherworld without a thought. They have a mission, they’re on their way to save the world and he feels like he will never die. Having a goal makes him immortal.
--------------------------------------------------
Crystals are a phenomenal source of energy. Energy brings prosperity. Prosperity brings jealousy. As the slums shrink back, and wealth and science spread in the city, the respect from the people to their savior grows stronger, and noble families make their intentions clearer everyday. The prince spends now more time discussing in assembly and state councils than fighting monsters in a distant shrine for more Crystals. He skillfully juggles treaties and alliances to maintain a fragile peace.
Then, their supposed allies decide to turn against the prince and start a war to feed on the dead and the ruins of the city.
Hell breaks loose in a single night; there are battalions of soldiers in every street, buildings burns, civilians cry and die. The city is lost, betrayed by power. Close to the Castle, the sight is majestically beautiful, the prince standing alone, facing a whole army. A wall of guns turns to him and start firing, but he raises a graceful arm and the bullets are deflected by the magical shell he’s set around him. He then summons the weapons of his already fallen soldiers, swords of all forms and size, and he cuts deep slashes in the enemies’ ranks.
Auron stands there, himself already heavily wounded, with blood dripping heavily from the gash across his right eye. He’s the last one standing from the prince’s close guard. He can see that despite all his strength and skills, the prince won’t win against a never-ending army; he teleports efficiently from one side of the arena to another, like a lightening of death. But Auron has never seen him have to resort to using so much to his mysterious powers in such a short amount of time, and side effects are already leaving scars, as his hair keeps bleaching and the orange glow in his eyes has never burnt so vividly before. Maybe this fire will never extinguish, should he survive to the night.
The warrior rushes to the side of his prince, telling him to let go and flee.
“It is not too late! Let us turn back!”
But the prince has already made up his mind. He asks Auron to leave him here to slow down the enemy and to run inside the Castle to protect the Crystals. Auron can’t bear it; the meaning of those previous years, his promise to give his life to protect this man, everything would be annihilated.
“But… there must be another way! Your death will mean nothing! You must live!”
The prince just shakes his head - the Crystals are more important, they have the power to protect the people - and returns to the attack. He doesn’t look back to see if Auron will obey, because he knows the strength of the warrior’s loyalty. Auron’s lips let escape a desperate cry, but he turns on his heels and run to the Crystal room. As he passes the heavy doors of the Castle, he doesn’t see the prince get his first wound, a bloody hole in his side.
Despite the efforts of the prince and his guards, the Castle is already invaded. Auron swings savagely his sword at anyone daring to try to block his path. As he finally reaches the room, he witnesses the fall of their civilization, soldiers fighting and murdering each others over the precious Crystals, breaking them in their blind greediness.
Because he was too late and hesitated too long and now everything is lost, he couldn’t protect anything, not the people nor the prince…
His last thought, as a bullet finds its way to his heart and another tears his neck, is a desperate plea to the shattered Crystals, to protect his prince and not let him die. They just keep their eternal eerie gleam, even after Auron’s eyes turn blind and lifeless, and then the Darkness swallows the room and…
--------------------------------------------------
“And then I died. I didn’t fulfill my promise. He probably died not long after me. Maybe if I had stayed to fight alongside my prince, we would have saved the city. But I didn’t. I pretended to be a guardian and in the end I couldn’t save anyone. This is my sin.”
In front of him, Sora was shifting his weight from one foot to another, uneasy. That kid, he came to see him, happy to see that the Coliseum’s reconstruction was doing well, gloating about defeating powerful enemies, saving worlds, becoming a hero; then he had harassed Auron until he agreed to tell his own story. He wasn’t expecting such a reaction from the kid.
Sora exchanged quick looks with his two friends, Donald and Goofy. Clearly, they knew something they were afraid to tell him.
“I… I think we may have met him. Somehow.” Sora started, trying to avoid Auron’s eyes. “He was rescued and saved by an inhabitant of Radiant Garden who took care of him. But after, he-”
“Sora!” Donald interrupted hastily.
“Err… It’s not really important. But, you see! You managed to keep your promise! You don’t have to be so grave all the time!”
“Yes! I’m sure you’re a hero, too!” added Goofy.
Then Donald drifted the conversation to Phil’s new training program, Sora and Goofy joining in with relief. Auron let them talk, wondering if he would have an opportunity to ask Sora about the fate of his prince before he had to return to the dead. More and more pyreflies came floating around him everyday, reminding him he didn’t belong to this world, the world Sora had saved. He would ask about Dark City, too. Did his homeland survive to the war? Did people still pace up and down the endless streets, a prince - no, a king - to look upon them from his tower? Sora would know, or the trio could go check for him.
But given their expressions, he was not sure he wanted to know.
--------------------------------------------------
Long explaining note:
I’ve been playing with this idea for more than a year, since I saw for the first time the first FFvsXIII trailer. My main arguments are:
* TWTNW, Zanarkand and the city we see in the Versus trailer are similar, very dark, with skyscrapers and neon lights and an atmosphere more SF than fantasy. The skycraper’s floor from the trailers looks like the one from Deep Dive.
* “Storm”’s hair becomes grey-ish and his eyes become orange/red when he fights; that’s the features of Xehanort and Xemnas too. “Storm” also utilizes Xemnas’ powers, like teleporting, a blue magical shield, and the use of 13 weapons at once (during the boss fight on the throne).
* Ansem reports relate that Ansem the Wise mysteriously found Xehanort in Radiant Garden when he was amnesic and deadly wounded, and Ansem had deduced that Xehanort came from another world. The very few we know about Versus story is that “Storm” is a prince who protects his world from an invasion during a war about powerful crystals.
Then the FM+ secret ending sort of comforted me (Terra’s eyes become also orange/red when he’s fighting/upset), but still, I was waiting for more info about Versus to avoid making “Storm” an OC completely void, without the tiniest bit of canon to support him. Sadly, BBS obviously intend to reveal Xehanort’s origin, and new pictures of FFvsXIII contradict the “dark image” I get from this game, so my little crack fantasy keeps making less and less sense. That’s why I’m not extremely satisfied with this story, which is very incomplete, but if I don’t post it now, I’ll never do it.
(For keeping with my rambling for so long, you get one of my favorite Auron songs XD)