Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Aqua drove through the Lanes Between as fast as she could, which didn’t feel like fast enough at all. There was a tight, desperate feeling in her chest. Images played in her mind’s eye. Terra, angry. Ven, scared. (And something else, too. Something she didn’t want to think about, because it couldn’t be right, it couldn’t be right.)

She was grateful that Yen Sid had urged her to head home, because otherwise she might not have realized what the tight feeling was. She knew, now, though, and cursed herself for not recognizing it sooner. Ven and Terra were in danger. She had to hurry.

Aqua burst out of the Lanes Between above the courtyard, and circled it once to gauge the situation. It was so much worse than she’d feared. She could hear Terra’s shouts of anger, feel the darkness in his heart—so much stronger than it had been last time she’d seen him, boiling under his skin. She couldn’t see Ven’s face, but she could see him on his knees behind Terra. The light in his heart was still like a beacon, the brightest light she had ever known, but now it was weary, burning faintly, like it didn’t have the strength to continue on.

And then there was Master Eraqus.

She knew the shape of his heart well. The light burning strong in it, the faint shadows around the edges (because everyone had some darkness in their heart, everyone but Ven, somehow, and the Princesses). It was not that the shadows were stronger, and they scared her. It was his light, sharpened like a knife, taut like a bowstring, sure as an arrow aimed at its mark—that’s what scared her.

Because his mark seemed to be Terra.

His blade was raised, and she could feel the power swirling around him.

Aqua cast a hasty Barrier around Terra and Ven both. There was no way she was going to get there in time to intercept the blow otherwise. She nose-dived through an explosion of light, grateful she barely felt the way it stung, and jumped once she knew she could make it to the ground safely. Something in her felt cold.

By then the light had cleared, and she landed next to Terra, who was blinking in confusion. Ven didn’t look up from the ground. Master Eraqus turned to her in surprise, then turned away. There was something in his eyes—disappointment?—and a hesitation in his heart.

“Aqua—!” Terra gasped. She couldn’t tell if he sounded relieved or not.

“What is going on?” Aqua demanded, her voice catching a little in horror. Eraqus had not lowered his blade, nor had Terra lowered his any more than a fraction.

“Aqua, stand aside,” Eraqus said, in his Do-As-I-Say-Now-Or-Else tone, which had more of an edge on it than usual. There was still that hesitance in his heart, but…

“AQUA HE TRIED TO KILL VEN,” Terra shouted. Aqua’s heart stopped.

Ven spoke up then, just loud enough to get their attention. “No, Terra, it’s- Aqua it’s fine.” He was not yelling, just tired. She could not get the sense of how wearily his light burned out of her mind. “The Master’s right, the chi-blade can’t— We can’t have another war.”

A war? What was he talking about!? Terra told him to shut up and stay out of this. (It burned, a little, to stand so close to him, and so much darkness, but this was just Terra.) Eraqus’s heart regained that sharp, pointed quality.

Aqua’s lip quivered.

Her fingers tightened on her Keyblade.

“What is going on?” she repeated, voice cold. She didn’t feel any emotion, she just felt ice.

“Aqua, you must understand,” Eraqus said. He still did not lower his Keyblade, but he turned to her, pleading. “Ventus is a weapon in a boy’s body. It pains me as much as it pains you, but he cannot be allowed to exist any longer. This age cannot end in war.”

Aqua barely heard the last thing he said. The world suddenly felt shaky, uncertain around her. Her stomach did not seem to be in her body. (Ven hastily agreeing, and Terra again telling him to be quiet were a blur to her ears, heard as if through water.) How could the Master say such a thing? How could he look his pupil in the eye and convince himself he must strike him down? Aqua was sure she was going to be sick, but—

She swallowed the bile in her throat, and settled into her battle stance, drawing herself straight. She was as tight and ready as an arrow nocked in a bow herself.

She felt nothing but ice.

“I’m sorry, Master,” she said. “Ven’s life is not a fair trade for the greater good.”

“Aqua, this is so much bigger than Ventus!” Eraqus argued, and for once he sounded frustrated. Would he look her in the eyes, and decide he had to strike her down, too?

“I DON’T CARE!”

Aqua ran forward, Keyblade clenched in both hands. She kicked off from the ground and leapt into the air, dropping down on Eraqus in an explosion of light and fire. Either he hesitated, or she’d gotten better, because the attack hit him full on. But his retaliation—light solidified into chains that cracked across her skin—sent her tumbling across the courtyard.

Terra jumped at Eraqus as soon as she was shoved back, with a warcry on his lips. From the sounds of it, he was knocked back, too. Aqua pushed herself up enough to see again—just in time to see Ven running towards the Master. There was no Keyblade in his hands. The weariness of his heart, the certainty in it, scared Aqua.

“Master, please,” he began.

“VEN, NO,” Aqua shouted, just as Terra did the same. Aqua made to cast a Barrier around Ven, but Terra was faster. With a blast of darkness, he knocked Ven out of Eraqus’s immediate reach. Ven rolled towards Aqua.

“Terra, what was that!?” Aqua shouted, as she moved to steady Ven.

“I COULDN’T LET HIM GET KILLED!” Terra shouted back.

Ven pushed Aqua off of him. “Would you two just quit it!?” he screamed. “The Master’s right!”

“NO!” Aqua and Terra both yelled.

Meanwhile, Eraqus said nothing. Aqua wanted to be grateful, because then she didn’t have to worry about it, but his silence was terrifying. To know he was so set, so determined—

“Ven, are you okay?” Aqua asked, to get her mind off of it. She knelt close to him, a Curaga on her fingertips to mitigate whatever damage Terra’s darkness had done. But again, Ven pushed her off.

She heard footsteps, then. Sensed Eraqus drawing closer.

Her heart caught in her throat. She threw herself over Ven, shielding him with her body. He struggled under her, but she held him down, held him close. She mentally prepared a Barrier, fear boiling in her stomach.

“Aqua, please,” came Eraqus’s voice. She didn’t look up. Kept her eyes squeezed shut. “Stand aside.”

“I refuse!”

She was going to die here. She was going to die, because Ven wouldn’t see another way, and apparently neither would the Master. And there was nothing she could do but shield Ven’s body with hers, protect him with her life. It burned, to know she would die at the Master’s hand. Aqua had expected death to come in many potential ways. From Unversed, maybe, or some other enemy. Or, preferably, from old age. She’d certainly never expected it to come from her Master, but this felt so very, very certain.

It didn’t matter, though. He’d hurt Ven only over her dead body.

She felt Eraqus’s power swell around him. She threw up her Barrier, holding it as long as she could.

Then there was a rush of darkness.

“Terra!” Master Eraqus shouted.

Aqua looked up, and sure enough, through the tinted-blue of her Barrier, she could see Terra between her and Eraqus. Darkness was pouring off every inch of his skin, bubbling and burning within his heart. Aqua’s own heart seized for a moment, but no, that was stupid, this was Terra, he wouldn’t hurt her. And the darkness Terra was pouring into the air became nothing more than a solid wall separating them from Eraqus, sheltering the three of them under a half-dome.

“Are you two okay?” Terra asked. He looked down at them only a second, otherwise preoccupied with the spell he’d cast. “Sorry I hit you, Ven.”

“Forget about that!” Ven snapped. He struggled in Aqua’s grasp, but afraid he’d run (or worse) Aqua held onto him very tightly. He sent a glare at her for it, his face scrunched up in an anger unlike Aqua had ever seen on him. “Would you two just quit trying to protect me!? I know what the chi-blade means, and I- I don’t know how, but I remember what the first Keyblade War was like and- we- we can’t have another one!”

“Ven, what are you talking about?” Aqua asked, bewildered. He remembered the…!? “The Keyblade War happened hundreds and hundreds of years ago!”

“I know!” Ven said, shaking his head, distressed. “I don’t really understand it, but I—”

“There isn’t time!” Terra cut in, urgently. His voice cracked over the words, and Aqua could feel the dome around them starting to buckle. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this! Aqua—”

He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to. Aqua knew what he wanted.

She raised her Keyblade, aiming at the empty area of the courtyard in front of her, away from Terra’s dome, away from Eraqus. She thought of somewhere safe. The world she’d just been to, not long ago now—the warm cradle of light, the gentle sound of the waves. A Portal into the Lanes Between opened right to it.

Ven followed the point of her Keyblade, then jolted at the sight of the Portal. “NO!” he screamed, and he tried to scramble away from Aqua.

She banished her Keyblade so that she could take his face in both hands, hold him gently. If Terra could just hold that spell for a few more seconds…! “Listen, Ven, it’s going to be okay,” she told him, smiling. “I know you’re scared, but- this isn’t the answer. There has to be another way.”

“Aqua—!”

She pushed him away from her and into the Portal, using her own strength and magic both to ensure he went through.

Terra let out a fierce cry. The dome above Aqua’s head rippled, and then slowly bent away from her and towards Eraqus. Terra seemed to be struggling to move it, but once it was all safely away from Aqua, it exploded into streams of darkness, all of which headed straight for Eraqus.

Aqua watched for a fraction of a second, impressed, then remembered herself. She called her Keyblade back to her and threw herself into Ghost Drive. She had more than enough energy accumulated for it, and—Well, yes, it was dangerous, to go straight into a second-level Command Style. But it didn’t matter. She needed the way it let her move, needed to cover several feet in the blink of an eye. She teleported to Eraqus, striking him with her Keyblade as Terra’s darkness buffeted him on all sides. She teleported away, and back again, repeating the process.

Ghost Drive made the dance of battle easier. It made it possible, really, to move safely between all the darkness Terra was throwing. She could start an attack on one end of the field, teleport in the middle of it, and then finish it within range of Eraqus. And more importantly, get out of there before some of Terra’s darkness clipped her, or before Eraqus could retaliate.

Terra’s attack lasted maybe ten seconds, total. Aqua backed off once it was over. Maybe she could afford to strike Eraqus a few more times, like this, but best not push her luck. (And did she really want to, anyway?)

Eraqus still had not lowered his blade, though. And there was—something, in his eyes.

“Has the darkness taken you, Terra!?” he called at them, and it was despair in his voice, more than anger. “And Aqua—” But he broke off there, like it was too terrible to say.

Was there darkness in her heart, too? Darkness enough to make Eraqus worry? Aqua wouldn’t know. She couldn’t feel her own heart signature. She was sure she’d know if there was any darkness in her that wasn’t hers, but how was she supposed to know how much she already possessed? She looked down at the energy that trailed off her skin from Ghost Drive. Was this darkness? It was a technique she’d tapped into in a moment of desperation. She’d watched Vanitas teleport from one place to another, and wanted to do the same…

(She didn’t think this was the same, exactly. But did it matter?)

“Master, please!” Terra called. “We just didn’t want you hurting Ven!”

“Surely this doesn’t need to be solved by killing him,” Aqua added, desperately. “There has to be another way—”

“I will not take any chances,” was Eraqus’s cold, angered reply.

Something foul twisted inside Aqua. Her stomach did not quite feel like it was in her body.

“But Master, you love Ven—!”

Except, it occurred to her, did he? He’d refused to ever let Ven join them on off-world training, preferring to keep him on the Land of Departure at all times. Her orders, to bring Ven home—were they for his safety, or something else? “Ventus is a weapon in a boy’s body,” Eraqus had said, just minutes ago. How long had he known? Why hadn’t he told them?

But then again, maybe that was for the best. If she and Terra had known, would they have treated Ven differently? If they had known, would they still be standing here, now? Would Ven be…?

It was too much to think about, and there wasn’t really time to. Eraqus was running at her. Aqua teleported at the last second, when his Keyblade would have smashed into her side otherwise. Using the last of the power Ghost Drive granted her, she launched herself at Eraqus. One, two, three—nine times total.

Terra followed up with—well, Aqua wasn’t sure where or when he’d learned to summon a giant hand out of the ether, and wasn’t sure if she wanted to. But the giant hand he conjured slammed Eraqus across the courtyard and against the archway. From the look on Master Eraqus’s face, it must have hurt.

Aqua swallowed around a lump in her throat. Terra seemed to hesitate, too, before doing anything else. She caught his eye. She could see the uneasiness in him, but his face tightened in determination after a moment. They both knew what they had to do.

If Eraqus would not be swayed, then they had to do something, to make sure he didn’t hurt Ven.

Aqua wondered if she could do it. Could she look her Master in the eyes, and strike him down?

It made her feel sick, to consider, but…

Yes, it occurred to her. She could.

For Ven, she could do anything.

Aqua raised her Keyblade to the sky and called down Thundaga. Eraqus side-stepped, and she followed with a Triple Blizzaga, cartwheeling to the side immediately. Eraqus melted her Blizzagas as he moved, and made to slice at her, but Terra got him from behind with a flurry of darkness-filled blows. Neither of Aqua’s spells had hit, but it was still enough energy to turn into Spellweaver.

Together, she and Terra proved a formidable team. But that did not mean this battle was easy. Eraqus had trained with the Keyblade for five times as long as they had. Even with all the Curagas that Aqua could spare, she and Terra were battered and bloody by the time Aqua saw her opening.

Terra had knocked Eraqus back with that conjured hand, again. And, it was taking Eraqus a few moments longer to recover.

Aqua ran in, before Terra had the chance. His heart was strong, but under the weight of this deed, it would surely crack. She had to do it, so he wouldn’t. She had to.

She swiped her Keyblade across Eraqus’s chest, and then leapt back, just in case. Eraqus staggered, though, and Master Keeper fell from his hand. Terra dismissed his own Keyblade, taking lurching steps in Eraqus’s direction. When Eraqus fell to his knees, so did he. Aqua looked away.

“God, Aqua, what have we done…” Terra moaned. He covered his mouth with one hand, reaching out towards Eraqus with the other. “What have we…?”

What we had to, Aqua thought, but did not say aloud. A disjointed, horrible feeling bounced around inside her. The deed was done, but she could not make herself look at Eraqus, could not make herself watch as he died.

“No. It’s my fault,” Eraqus said, between shallow breaths. “The two of you were right. And to think, I raised my blade against you—”

“Master…” Terra said.

Despite herself, Aqua looked up, a faint hope budding in her chest. Had they finally gotten through to him…? The blow was not completely fatal, she thought. Perhaps, with enough Curagas, and time…

It didn’t matter.

Terra did not see it, because Eraqus blocked his line of sight. But Aqua, standing to the side, saw it perfectly.

She saw the dark portal open, and she saw Xehanort step out, blade already drawn.

“NO!” she screamed, stepping forward.

Xehanort plunged his blade into Eraqus’s back. It went clean through.

Eraqus went rigid, eyes glazing over. Xehanort pulled his blade back out, and Eraqus’s body fell forward, into Terra’s arms. His body turned into pure shards of light, before it got there—something not uncommon, for Keyblade wielders felled in battle. Aqua’s stomach wrenched. She’d prepared to strike him down, herself, but this? This was, somehow, unspeakably worse.

Xehanort banished his Keyblade, eyes fixed on Terra.

Aqua took a step forward, swiping a hand through the air. “What do you want!?” she demanded. Maybe her voice cracked. Maybe it didn’t. There was a storm raging in her chest.

She could not say she’d ever entirely trusted Xehanort. She had, in a way, because of Eraqus—but she knew the shape of Xehanort’s heart, knew the feel of his darkness. It was rude to disrespect a Master, so she’d kept her mouth shut and her opinions clamped down. But now? She didn’t care anymore. He’d just murdered Eraqus.

(No, a voice whispered, in the back of her mind. You did.

She tried to ignore it.)

Xehanort sent a glance at her, eyes flashing like he was surprised to see her. He studied her for a moment, a split second, and then he smiled.

“My, what a pitiful sight,” he mused, instead of answering her question. “Why waste time with remorse? The man intended to kill the both of you, and your friend Ventus—his own pupils! And yet neither of you can find it in your hearts to hate him?”

He spoke with a great deal of contempt, and only seemed to have disgust to send down at Terra, who had his face to the ground, sobbing. But the way he looked at Aqua—the gleam in his eyes, the upward curl of his lips—sent shivers down Aqua’s spine. It was like he knew what was in her heart, in reality. It was like he knew what had crossed her mind before she…

Aqua ran straight at Xehanort, a Thundaga Shot ready on her blade before she even had it pointed at him. She wasn’t going to stand here and listen to his taunts. She wasn’t going to stand here and let him boil her blood!

Xehanort leapt out of the way with surprising agility. His own Keyblade reappeared in his hand, and he thrust it towards the sky. Something large, dark, bubbled in the air above them all.

“Join me at the Keyblade Graveyard,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “There, you will meet your fate!”

The ground beneath them rumbled. The wind picked up around them. The darkness in the sky opened up like a great maw, sucking everything towards it. Aqua watched in horror as bits of the castle—large chunks of the castle, really!—were broken off from the rest and sucked into the darkness. Where did that lead? Aqua wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

The ground under her feet shook. When Aqua looked, she saw large cracks snaking along either side of her, a large chunk separating from the rest. The piece she was standing on yanked upwards. Hastily, Aqua jumped.

When she landed on her knees next to Terra, Xehanort was gone.

She and Terra remained in silence for a while, watching as the world tore itself apart. Or, Aqua watched. Terra was hunched over on himself, forehead pressed to the ground, sobbing violently. Aqua wished she knew how to comfort him, but… There was no denying what had happened. And… even though her heart was weighed down with guilt, a part of her felt justified.

Yes, Eraqus was dead. But Ven was alive. Ven was alive, and there was still time to make sure he stayed that way.

The wind was dying down. The sky remained dark, but the black hole Xehanort had summoned was gone, and with it about a third of the castle. Aqua was glad not all of it was gone, but something raw tugged in her at the sight. She felt shaky. What were they supposed to do, with the world like this? What were they supposed to do, with a destroyed home?

And—that portion of the castle was the portion with their bedrooms, she realized, after a moment. A pang of sadness rang through her heart at the thought. All of her favorite books, her unfinished projects, her belongings, gone. They were just… Gone.

Abruptly she realized her own pettiness, and laughed weakly at herself.

Terra pulled himself up off the ground, sending an inquisitive look at her. His face was still streaked with tears, but he seemed to have composed himself.

“I just… What are we supposed to do?” Aqua asked, with another, helpless laugh.

“I…” Terra began, but he didn’t seem to have any idea either.

Aqua realized now, that after all this, she thought she understood Terra a little better. Or at least, she understood better what his darkness really was. It was a part of him, the same way his strength and his gentle personality was. It wasn’t really as bad as Eraqus had made it out to be.

“I’m sorry,” she said, quickly. “For what I said, back in Radiant Garden.” She couldn’t remember with perfect clarity everything she had said, but she remembered arguing, and she remembered it being about Terra’s darkness. “I think… I think I was wrong, about your darkness. And I think Eraqus was too.”

Terra looked at her first in surprise, and then his face scrunched up in a grimace.

“I dunno, maybe you were right,” he said, casting his eyes to the ground. “The darkness in my heart—I’ve just been letting it get stronger and stronger. And- look at what we just did.” He gestured at the area before them; referring not to the destruction, but to the battle that had taken place really just moments ago.

“I’m just as much at fault as you are, Terra,” Aqua argued, firmly. “And your darkness can’t be blamed for my decisions.”

Terra turned away. He didn’t say anything, but Aqua could see the gears in his head turning. Hopeful—and more than that, certain—Aqua plodded ahead.

“Your darkness is a part of your heart just as much as my light is a part of mine. And it seems…” She fumbled a second with her words. “It seems wrong, to deny that part of your heart. To deny any part of your heart! I think Master Eraqus had that wrong.”

Terra considered that for a moment, and then slowly, he nodded. He looked up at her. “I’m sorry, too,” he said. “For Radiant Garden. I shouldn’t have said any of the things I said—I had no right to get so angry.”

Aqua shook her head, though. “No, Eraqus sending me to spy on you was…” She didn’t quite have the words for it, wasn’t sure how to convey how awful of an order it had been, in hindsight. Terra seemed to get the idea, though. “You had every right to be angry about that.”

“Well, I guess so,” Terra agreed, with some reluctance. Something heavy seemed to hang around the idea of Eraqus, now. “But I still don’t think I had a right to take it out on you. So… I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Aqua told him.

And then, it occurred to her, she knew exactly what they had to do next.

“We need to go to Ven,” she said. “We need to go to Ven, and talk to him, and make sure he doesn’t… do anything rash.” The words were like lead in her mouth. “And then we stop Xehanort.”

Terra scoffed at that, but it was bitterly, with a shake of his head.

Aqua leaned towards him, trying to look teasing, even though now probably wasn’t the time.

“Don’t think we can?”

He shook his head again, harder this time.

“No, it’s just—” He took a second to gather his thoughts. “I don’t know what he wants. Xehanort. I don’t know what he wants, but…” He looked down, clenching his hands into fists before him. “He’s been leading me along this whole time. I know that, now. I can try and keep him from doing it again, but I feel like it’s too late, Aqua.”

There was a certain weight in his words, a weight she didn’t want to think about. (He’d always gotten Feelings, when they were kids, and they were always true in the end.)

“It’s okay,” she said, summoning all the certainty she could muster. “We’ll stop him.” She wouldn’t let it be too late, wouldn’t let this end badly. Even if she had to strike down Xehanort with her own hands, it would get done, and then they would all be safe.

After all, she’d already struck down one Keyblade Master, today. What was one more?

Chapter Text

The last of the Heartless vanished, and Aqua took a deep, shaky breath. It was—hard. To not be able to stop, to have to keep slaying Heartless, to have to keep moving. She was adjusting, for sure, but… It was still so much. The constant feel of darkness pressed against her skin, the weariness in her bones, the weight of Master Keeper in her hand and mind both.

She tried not to think much of the blade, as she lowered it. She was grateful she’d picked it up (an eternity ago, she’d considered leaving it where it was on the broken ground of their home) but she had her misgivings about it, and it seemed to know that. But how could she avoid it? She knew what this blade felt like, when turned against her. She knew how its cuts stung, having felt them against her own skin. And she could not seem to channel her energy through it without seeing him in her mind’s eye, Eraqus, the way he’d looked before she’d—

Aqua shook her head and sternly pushed the memory away, banishing the blade so she could stop thinking about it for a little bit.

She cast her gaze around the small room, trying to see if there was anything else of interest here. But now that the Heartless were gone, there was nothing. Just dark curtains and that… mirror. It was nice, to be in something that looked like an actual world (even if distorted remnants of one) compared to endless darkness and winding, nonsensical paths but. Something about this place made her hair stand on end.

“You’ll never see the Realm of Light again. But—maybe you deserve that.”

Aqua spun rapidly, trying to find the source of the voice. There was no one there. But she could not shake the feeling of breath on the back of her neck, something like the brush of fingers against her shoulder. And the voice—she did not want to believe it was her own, but, she had seen the hand that dragged her through the mirror and into this hell.

The only question: was the voice in her head, or was it real?

Sound was weird, here, distorted by the darkness. And she’d been thinking similar things for… a long time now.

Aqua took a deep breath and pressed her hand to the sole mirror in the room. In a flash of light and a tug (it felt like magic, but how could she be sure?), she was back in the main hallway of this place. Or, some remnant of what might have once been a hallway, anyway. The architecture was all crumbling, and the ground gave way to darkness after maybe fifty feet. Aqua was not sure if there was a way out of this place, except through one of the mirrors. That was how she’d gotten in here…

The sharp sound of shattering glass made Aqua jump. She spun back around, and was surprised to find that the mirror she’d just passed through had cracked. The broken mirror fragments cast a distorted reflection back at her. Something in one of those mirror fragments moved. Something that wasn’t her.

She rounded on it, mentally reaching for her Keyblade on reflex. She forgot, though, that it was Master Keeper that responded to her call. Mentally brushing against it just brought Eraqus to her mind, again. The tears on his face. The disappointment in his eyes. She pushed Master Keeper away, along with thoughts of Eraqus, as well as she could—

There wasn’t anything there, anyway. Not a Heartless, not a shadow stirred.

Aqua pursed her lips together and tried to breathe, not sure how else to make her pounding heart slow. There was nothing here that could hurt her.

(But there could be, a part of her brain whispered, there could be, any second now.)

Master Keeper’s presence in her mind seemed to grow a little stronger, as if reminding her it was here, if she needed it. As if it were trying to reassure her. Tears burned in Aqua’s eyes. She did not think of Eraqus.

She kept moving. That was all she could do.

The next mirror brought her to a mine. Or, fragments of a mine. No mine was suspended in empty space, no mine had such a clear view of the sky above. (Was that really a sky, or was it a ceiling, Aqua wondered.) The rocks of the mine were littered with gemstones, and other sparkling things. Mirrors, Aqua realized, upon closer expression. Tiny mirror fragments, none bigger than her hand. Except—

They did not show reflections.

The breath caught in Aqua’s lungs. It was not her face she saw in the mirrors, or any part of the mine she stood in. It was memories. Scenes from the Keyblade Graveyard, from the Land of Departure. Terra, on his hands and knees, sobbing violently with his face pressed to the ground. Ven, with an unspeakable anger in his eyes, right hand to his chest, left hand holding his Keyblade behind him like he intended to use it. Eraqus, tears on his cheeks, and she swore his movements were slow, like he didn’t want to attack, but perhaps that was just how her memory had distorted it after all this time.

She wasn’t sure if the voices were real or in her head, but they played in her ears either way.

“God, Aqua… what have we DONE?”

“I was the only one who had to die, Aqua! Just me, not anyone else!”

“Has the darkness taken you, Terra? And Aqua—”

(It was the last two words of that, that hurt the most. Only two words, but—the way his voice had cracked, and the way he’d closed his eyes as if considering something too terrible to bear…)

Aqua tore herself away, staggering backwards, away from the wall and back onto the main path. She turned her head sharply towards the ground—but there, too, there were mirrors, memories played back at her. She looked up, ahead. There were no mirrors ahead. Just the path. She had to keep moving.

Memories kept calling to her from mirrors, but Aqua did all she could to ignore them. There were Heartless, too. Those she fought without really thinking about. It was easy, to not think about them. Her mind was caught between how heavy Master Keeper felt in her palm, and Ven’s voice ringing in her ears. “Just kill me, like you did the Master. It wouldn’t be hard. You don’t even have to think about it. Just kill me—”

The Heartless were gone quicker than she expected. Aqua caught herself, Master Keeper still raised, staring at nothing before her.

Staring at the mirror before her.

It was bigger than the others, easy to see from ten feet away, though still a jagged fragment embedded in stone. Playing in it was a memory that seemed to drive a knife into her chest. Eraqus, thrown against the archway by Terra’s attack. Eraqus, suspended against it a second, gasping like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He’d been helpless, no way he’d be able to react in time.

Aqua had seen her opening, and she’d taken it.

“Even Terra couldn’t look you in the eyes after what you did,” echoed a voice, all around her.

Aqua got the sense of breath against her ear. Someone brushing past her shoulder. She turned hastily. Nothing was there.

“He hesitated, because he’s a good person.”

The sensation pressed against her other shoulder. The returning feeling of breath on her neck, of a hand on her skin.

“But you…?”

The voice trailed off into something that might have been laughter.

Aqua stood there, shaking, breathing heavily. Her eyes were glued to the mirror before her, watching herself strike Eraqus play back in slow motion. Watching as she approached him. Watching Rainfell cut across his chest—

Aqua tore her gaze away. Pushed the thoughts out of her mind. She kept moving.

That was the only way to keep the guilt away, to keep herself from turning the moment (or worse ones) over and over and over again in her head. She had to keep moving. She could not think about it if she did not stop, if she did not give herself time to. (Because it was her fault, it was her fault, this was all her fault—)

There was another mirror at the end of the path. A real one. Full-length, framed in gold. Just like the one she’d come here through. There was nothing else to do but reach out and press her palm to its cloudy surface.

This time, it was a hand that pulled her through.

Aqua staggered after being thrown out of the mirror, straightening herself as soon as she could. This room seemed familiar, though she could not place why. The ground like an inch of water under her feet. The glowing aurora that encased her on all sides.

“No one can save you,” echoed a voice from all around her, “No one wants to.”

No—the voice was coming from right behind her.

Aqua spun around to see the mirror still standing there. Its cloudy glass was now clear as crystal, and—

Aqua’s stomach bottomed out.

A hand emerged from the mirror. Her hand. The rest of her body followed, a perfect reflection. There was malice in her reflection’s eyes, and a sneer drawn across her lips. Master Keeper—or, a copy of it—was already in her hand.

“After all,” Aqua’s reflection sneered, raising her blade to strike. “Who’d want to save a murderer?”

Aqua leapt back, away from the blade’s arc through the air, staggering as her feet hit the ground. Her heart hammered in her chest. It felt impossible to breathe, as if those words were a physical thing that had struck her right in the gut. Master Keeper—the real one—came to her hand unbidden. The weight of it in her heart was heavy, too heavy to bear, but she didn’t dare dismiss it. She needed it.

“You- you’re wrong!” Aqua choked. The words were like ash in her mouth. There was no conviction in her heart. The memory of Ven accusing her of the same thing played back in her mind.

“You killed the Master!” Ven had shouted, and there’d been unspeakable anger on his face, anger unlike any she’d ever seen before.

“No, we didn’t! Xehanort did,” Terra had argued back, but…

In that moment, Aqua had turned away.

“You know the truth,” her reflection spat, circling her. “The only reason the Master died was because you put him in that position.” Aqua had to circle, too, lest she let her reflection out of her sight. She tried not to think about how similar this sounded to the things she’d thought in that moment, as Ven screamed at her. “And you would have done it, anyway. You would have killed the Master, murdered him, if it meant keeping Ven safe.”

There was such fury on her reflection’s face. Such disgust, such hatred. It was unsettling to see her own features curled up in that way and, worse—Those emotions were remarkably similar to the ones that bounced around in Aqua’s own chest, if she thought about it too much.

Because: it was true. She would have killed Eraqus, if Xehanort hadn’t. That was worse than the deed itself. The fact that she’d been okay with doing it.

Aqua’s reflection stopped circling. She considered Aqua with hatred for another moment. And then—she vanished.

Aqua whipped her head around, trying to see where her reflection had gone. She heard the blow coming before she saw it. Threw up a hasty Barrier before she’d finished turning. The Barrier shattered too fast for Aqua to do anything with it. She got her blade up to block, but only just.

They met eyes for just a second. The eyes of Aqua’s reflection burned, and not just with an eerie light. She looked ready to gut Aqua then and there, if she could.

Aqua gathered fire at her fingertips to throw at her reflection’s stomach. She didn’t get the chance. Her reflection vanished again.

Aqua’s heart hammered in her chest, eyes frantically scanning the area again. She felt like she was going to be sick with—guilt. Maybe terror. Those were the only two emotions that seemed to fill the emptiness in her chest.

Her reflection reappeared again, running at her, vanished, reappeared again. She moved as if she was using Ghost Drive—maybe she was. Aqua tried to follow her movements, but it was impossible. That’s what Ghost Drive was good for.

Her reflection’s blade cracked across her back. Aqua couldn’t turn around fast enough to retaliate.

A Barrier blocked the next three rapid blows, but shattered under the fourth. Aqua threw the broken shards out in every direction as she cartwheeled back.

She cast a homing Firaga. Followed with Ice Barrage where she thought her reflection would appear next. Neither hit, so Aqua set a Mine Shield down around herself and waited. The heat of her own mines hurt as much as the blade across her arm, but her reflection finally cried out too.

“MURDERER!” her reflection called, as she vanished again.

“HYPOCRITE!” her reflection screamed, hitting Aqua with a Blizzaja from behind.

Aqua placed down another Mine Shield, and then a Seeker Mine. She had to stay close to them, so her reflection had to cross them, but it was the only thing that was working.

“You said Ven’s life was not worth the worlds’ safety!” Aqua’s reflection spat, moving through this batch of mines with only a wince as she ran towards Aqua, blade raised. “But you decided the Master’s life was a fair trade for Ven’s? Hypocrite!”

Aqua ducked under the blow. She tried not to think much about the words. (They were true, though. They’d been true even back when Ven called her out for the same.)

“Someone still had to die, the way you sliced it,” her reflection continued, snarling. She turned around to take another swing at Aqua. “Murderer.”

Aqua wanted to scream, but could not find the words nor the strength to protest. How could she argue against something that was true? For a half-second she considered not doing anything at all, and taking the blow (maybe she deserved it) but instincts kicked in faster. She side-stepped. Brought her blade up before she thought about it. She cut right through her reflection.

Her reflection cried out in rage. Then she staggered back, form flickering where Aqua had hit her. She vanished.

“Maybe that’s the last of it,” Aqua whispered, as she dismissed Master Keeper.

(It wasn’t.)

A blinding light returned her to the main room, and there, the voice continued. It was louder. More frequent. Now that Aqua had a face and a voice to match it too, it made her skin crawl twice as much.

“Ven will never forgive you!” the voice called, with a hateful glee, from all directions at once. “Not for what you did. Not for leaving him alive.”

Aqua kept moving, her insides burning. There were no Heartless on this endless staircase to distract her. Nothing but that voice and the memories. (Ven, screaming at her in the Keyblade Graveyard. Ven, goading her into a fight while Terra tried to stay between them. Ven’s Keyblade crashing against hers, before Vanitas stepped in. Ven, shouting the entire fight that if she’d just kill him then it would be over. If he was dead, Xehanort would lose, so all she had to do was—)

“You should have done it,” the voice echoed. “You should have killed him. Then you wouldn’t be here.”

There were no Heartless. Just never-ending stairs and the voice. Aqua beat the memories back down when they tried to resurface. Summoned Master Keeper, so its weight and the ache of it in her heart could distract her. Tried to tune out her thoughts.

But the voice—her voice—cut clear into her mind.

“You killed the Master no problem. Why couldn’t you just do what Ven asked?”

“Because he asked the unthinkable,” Aqua whispered, under her breath. “Because Terra wouldn’t forgive me if I’d killed both of them.” Because carrying the weight of both Eraqus’s death and Ven’s seemed too much to bear. Because there were other options.

(Except, Xehanort had still won in the end, in a way. He hadn’t gotten his war, but he’d gotten Terra. And the sacrifices they’d made… “I was the only one who had to die,” Ven whispered in her ears.)

“Better him dead than you trapped here.”

Aqua stopped dead where she stood.

“NO!” she screamed. “SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!”

She would not think like that. She would not.

The voice laughed. But what really had Aqua’s attention was: now that she’d stopped, she realized she was on a landing. And there, to her left, was a mirror. Had that been there before? It can’t have been, but…

Aqua didn’t care. She marched right to the mirror, stepping through herself rather than be pulled through.

Her reflection was waiting for her.

“Ven’s life is not a fair trade for my freedom!” Aqua spat, before her reflection could say anything. She threw Thundaga Shot off her Keyblade. It didn’t hit, because her reflection vanished, but it made her feel just a tiny bit better.

“You’re right. It’s not a fair trade,” Aqua’s reflection replied, reappearing just a few feet to the left. “Because he’s innocent, and you’re not.”

“Shut up!” Aqua spat. She let Triple Firaga loose, but her reflection just teleported again, reappearing this time to the right, a little further back.

“You should stay here, forever,” her reflection spat back. “That seems fair, doesn’t it? It’s what you deserve. Or better yet—you should die.”

Her reflection jumped into the air, Spellweaver’s glow surrounding her. She leveled her Keyblade at Aqua. Aqua cartwheeled just in time to avoid the blast of magic, returned it with Fission Firaga. That missed, too, because her reflection was still teleporting. Using both Spellweaver and Ghost Drive at the same time? That should have been impossible! And it wasn’t fair.

Aqua set down her Seeker Mines, and waited. Watched. Her reflection did not seem to have a heart, or any sort of presence Aqua could actually sense. But she could listen. She could guess, where her reflection would appear next.

Sometimes her guesses were right. Sometimes they weren’t.

She stuck to things like Blizzaga and Thundaga. They were faster. Easier to make appear right where you wanted them to, easier to instantaneously hit a spot ten feet away with.

“Just give in, Aqua. There’s peace in darkness. There’s peace in death. You won’t have to burden anyone anymore.”

Aqua turned her head to the side. She hated how sweet her reflection’s voice sounded, even if there was an edge to it. She hated how tempting the option was, even if it made her blood boil. She tried to push the thoughts out of her head, but the darkness seemed to cling to her skin thicker than ever.

So instead she turned her frustration into Mega Flare, and hoped her reflection got caught up in the burning light.

“They’ll never be happy if you go back,” her reflection called, between attacks. “They’ll never forgive you. You ruined everything for your friends, so do them a favor and stay gone.”

It made Aqua sick to hear. But she turned that sickness into anger, into determination. She didn’t ponder how right the words might have been, because, it didn’t matter.

Maybe Ven would hate her. Maybe he’d never forgive her. But if she didn’t go back, he’d never wake up. No one would ever find him, because she’d hidden him too well.

Maybe Ven would hate her, but she couldn’t leave him asleep forever.

That was as bad as killing him. That was worse than killing him.

Aqua took a deep breath, straightening herself and readying her blade, readying her magic. She had not felt this focused or this certain about anything in a very, very long time.

She pulled herself into Spellweaver.

Either her reflection had noticed her change in attitude, or she was wearing down. When she reappeared this time, it was two feet in front of Aqua. She was seething. The glow of her eyes seemed to be brighter, colder than before. Or maybe it was the proximity.

“You don’t deserve to be saved,” she spat, her face just inches from Aqua’s. “This is all your fault.”

Aqua didn’t even flinch.

“Maybe it is,” she agreed. “But the least I can do is fix my mistakes.”

She shoved Master Keeper through her reflection’s stomach.

When the light cleared this time, Aqua was in another world completely. She breathed a sigh of relief.

It was still… hard. The constant fight against the Heartless, the constant feel of darkness pressed against her skin. She was still tired. Master Keeper and her guilt both continued to weigh heavy in her chest.

But she’d remembered her motivation, her reason to keep moving. She had to get out of here, so she could fix her mistakes.