Chapter Text
Time never seems to set on the floating isles chaining the Land of Departure, your home, together. Each day the sun rises and each night the moon appears, all other happenings falling comfortably into place. Whether in your seventeen years awake or your twelve years asleep, the land tends to itself unchanged. The only difference between then and now is a testament to the old life, one that belonged to both you and another.
“Hey, Master,” you mutter to a weathered shrine beneath a colorful fruit-bearing tree. “Hope you like the new spot. It certainly seems to like you.”
You don’t enjoy standing at Master Eraqus’ grave for too long, especially when you’re alone in your visit. Alone in your thoughts. His Keyblade and your Wayfinders haven’t fared as well as you had hoped in its original location in front of the castle, and although the combined magical efforts of yourself, Aqua, and Terra have allowed the grave to survive in its new home, the possibility of its impermanence leads your thoughts down a dark path. Of all the losses you have endured, a homemade memento should be the least troubling, and yet it’s still managed to keep you up at night.
“Ven!” an excited voice belonging to none other than Aqua yanks you from your mental wandering. Perfect timing.
You pivot to see her waving from the edge of the mountain path and flash her a similar signal before jogging up the steep earth. The area is relatively dark even with the light of nearby lamps, but you can clearly make out Terra’s tall silhouette beside her.
“Sorry it took me so long, lost track of time,” you explain upon arrival.
“Don’t sweat it,” Terra replies with a soft nudge to your shoulder.
“You can hardly see the sky with all these clouds, anyway,” Aqua laments.
“Aww man,” you whine at her and the sky. “Can’t we just poof them away?"
She laughs. “Not enough to see the whole thing. And who knows what that might do to the rest of the sky? We could still end up missing the starshow and wear ourselves out.”
You cast your upper body over the lip of the stone barrier and sigh, mentally taking note of the building electricity in the air. “At least it’ll be happening again in a few days.”
The three of you hum in unified agreement, allowing silent winds to carry the rest of the conversation.
This moment encapsulates what your life has become: a timeline full of peppered experiences that exist somewhere between marvelous and mundane. There have been no outright thrills, no exhilarating new experiences to speak of in your day-to-day. But there also haven’t been any other misfortunes since that treacherous battle, so you figure you have to count your blessings.
Still.
“This doesn’t feel right,” you accidentally and regrettably reveal out loud.
“What do you mean?” Aqua asks, as sharp as ever.
“I just feel like...like...” You struggle to find the words.
“Like you wish things could go back to normal?” Terra fills in for you. He’s surprisingly close.
“Well, there is no ‘normal,’ right?” Aqua opines pleasantly. “So it’s not really a thing you can get back to. What we have to look forward to is something new, something different. Something we can call our own.”
In your head you know your words don’t carry enough weight to warrant a mini lecture, but in your heart you know Aqua’s words to be true regardless, and you value them dearly. You always knew her to be the voice of reason, even after all these lost years.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Isn’t she always?” Terra chimes in.
The three of you share a laugh before the roll of thunderclouds booms overhead. They startle you, though such a reaction to something so ordinary startles you even more. You briefly wonder if it’s alright to get used to the everyday, all things considered.
“I can’t even remember the last time we had a storm here,” you comment, genuinely unable to recall.
“Nature has to stay green somehow,” Terra jests. You suppose it’s true.
“That’s our cue to head back, then,” Aqua yields. “It was getting kind of late, besides. Wouldn’t want to be too tired for our visit tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah, Destiny Islands,” you idly remark, shoving aside the fact that you forgot.
“And have you packed?” Aqua reminds you that you have not.
You peer around your companions and, instead of answering, make a beeline for the castle.
“Last one home is cooking dinner!” you exclaim over your shoulder.
Protesting grunts behind you quickly turn into joyous banter as the three of you dash down the mountain path and to the forecourt. The wind moves against your favor and your legs are out of practice, but you’re fairly confident a foot race is the one thing you still have over your friends. With each stomp the ornate gold of the castle’s main entrance bounces closer into view until it’s all you can see.
“Looks like I win,” you pant up the steps, your goal so close you can almost touch it.
“Don’t be too sure,” a low voice croons behind you, and in an instant there’s warm pressure against your back.
“Huh—”
You whip your head around to identify which one of them could have possibly caught up with you, but as soon as you do the night sky lights up so brightly that you lose your footing against the marble steps. The weight on your back disappears, as if serving one purpose: to push you down. It happens so fast that by the time the sting of hard ground wears off your peers are already at the door, their backs turned to you.
“Actually, looks like you’ll be making dinner tonight,” Aqua teases, her body heaving from laughter and recomposure.
“Never taunt early,” Terra adds, though his playful demeanor vanishes once he turns around. “Ven, are you alright?”
The two rush to your side, quick to offer a hand even though you’re fully capable of standing. You’re grateful for their generosity at the expense of your autonomy.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer waving their hands away, though the incident stays on your mind.
“We were just joking,” Terra reassures. You wonder if he’s referring to the taunt.
“I’m sorry we didn’t see you fall,” Aqua chimes in, guilt already coating her voice.
Confusion overrides pain as you rise to your feet. You’re positive one of them teased and pushed you, whether they meant it or not, but neither of them are fully acknowledging it. You open your mouth to ask them about it but change your mind the instant the storm draws nearer. You’d rather stay dry than confront your friends right now.
“Guys I’m fine, seriously, it’s no big deal,” you reiterate strutting forward with a quickened pace.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Terra says beside you. “Let’s get inside before that rain hits.”
The three of you stroll through the main entrance and lock the doors, narrowly beating the sudden downpour.
“Welcome back,” a soft voice offers from above.
Chirithy stands atop the stairs’ middle landing that ascends to the Great Hall, holding its trademark purse in one hand and what appears to be a ladle in the other.
“It’s a good thing I closed the window in your room, huh, Ventus?”
You don’t recall leaving your window open before setting out for the day, or even for any of the past few days.
“Thank you, Chirithy,” you express while continuing through the atrium, brushing the oddity aside. “Y’know, you can call me Ven if you like.”
“O-okay, Ven,” Chirithy squeaks and fidgets in place, clearly unsure of itself. “Well, I’m almost done with your meals. At least I think I am. The recipes are a little strange.”
Aqua coos behind you. “Aww, that’s very sweet. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you, though. Let us help.”
She proceeds to the small, fuzzy Spirit but it retreats.
“No! You all have done so much. It’s Chirithy’s turn.”
It wobbles up the remaining steps and presumably toward the kitchen. You turn to your friends and counter their furrowed brows with an open grin.
“We can trust Chirithy,” you encourage. “Smells pretty good, besides.”
Satisfied by your words they follow you around the landing and up the rest of the staircase. The floor opens up to a mass of delicately placed tiles in the form of various geometric shapes and patterns mirrored all across the castle. Your feet trail the inlaid curves so naturally it’s as if your heart never went to sleep in the first place. Though darker than usual, the hall is lit from adjacent windows so clearly that all inhabiting objects take on harsh silhouettes. You try not to pay too much attention to the empty seats in the corner where your masters once commanded. Doing so only causes you to feel like you don’t belong.
You cross the Great Hall and the unusual twinge of sadness leaves just as quickly as it came. You have much bigger things to care about, especially once in the dining area and your senses are treated to a delightful preview.
“Chirithy, did you do all this?” Aqua is the first to speak up, but it would have been you had the sight not left you speechless.
In the center of a long, softly lit room rests an equally long table garnished with floral decorations and matching dinnerware. Four chairs gather at one end of the table in a neat semicircle, with just enough space for full place settings of only the finest silver in the castle. Interestingly, one of the chairs has a few cushions atop it and no objects placed before it, which you deduce to be Chirithy’s seat.
“Yes, and the food is almost ready, so please feel free to get comfortable,” the Spirit in mind urges as it hobbles from the connected kitchen.
“Let us help,” you insist, strolling past the set table and to the kitchen, too curious to do as it says.
“That’s quite alright, really,” Chirithy protests. “Please sit!”
The Spirit fails to shoo you away from a starkly contrasted scene beyond the dining cove. It whimpers and grunts on its way to your heels in no time to prevent you from mentally declaring a state of emergency. Despite the pleasantries of aromas you can hardly identify, the kitchen is in as much disarray as you’d expect from a two-foot tall creature. Pots, pans, and all applicable utensils speckle countertops from use, with only a portion of them having made their way to the sink. Several empty serving apparatuses line the kitchen island in wait, and while the meal looks good at a stolen glance, you won’t stand by doing nothing.
“Aqua, Terra, a little hand?” you ask over your shoulder to your stunned yet agreeable peers.
“The food is done, though,” Chirithy exhales. “There’s nothing else to help with.”
“Nonsense, there’s always room to help your pals,” Terra refutes before scooping up a large pot and heading back to the dining table. “This soup smells amazing, by the way.”
You chuckle to yourself, knowing the dish to be more of a stew than a soup, but you keep mum in favor of collecting stray kitchenware for soaking. Aqua twirls behind you, gracefully stacking fresh garnishes in a basket and joining Terra in the other room. You shake off excess water at your fingertips and check in with Chirithy.
“Anything else?” Chirithy peers up at you with hesitation, and when it doesn’t respond you take it upon yourself to fill in the gaps. “Drinks, got it.”
Within arms reach rest two full pitchers, one of water and one of a sharp fruity drink, and in one fell swoop you grab them and glide away to set them down in front of your peers. With the table fully set you take the delicious scenery in full, admiring it with both your eyes and your nose. You hope it won’t be long before your taste buds get to appreciate it, too.
As you pour drinks for everyone and take your seat between your friends, you can’t help but reminisce the last time you all dined at this table. Now that things have so drastically changed, the three—technically four—of you have found less use of this space and wind up eating about the castle grounds instead. At any other time it would be reserved for formal occasions like Mark of Mastery exams or Keyblade bequeathings, but tonight it’s being reclaimed for a casual, lighthearted affair. You momentarily wonder if the old masters would approve, but in truth you don’t think it’s bad. Just different.
“When do we leave tomorrow?” you ask taking a sip of water in an attempt to distract your mind and your stomach. Everything looks so appetizing you can hardly stand it, but without Chirithy it would be rude of you. Aqua would likely stop you from digging in, anyway.
“Afternoon, hopefully,” Aqua replies. “Depends on if you sleep in or not.”
You shoot her a curious look. “You’re talking about Terra, right?”
Terra aims a look back at the both of you, and you can tell he’s about to mouth off something ridiculous if not for the boom of thunder that times perfectly with your rumbling belly.
“I hope you all enjoy the meal,” Chirithy pipes up, bowing at the empty chair beside the three of you.
Terra claps his hands together in visible excitement. “That means ‘dig in’!”
He grabs the bowl atop your plate and ladles in a healthy heap of stew before passing it back. In the blink of an eye Aqua places two sweet rolls on the rim of your plate with a satisfied grin. You try to reciprocate the gesture but they’re already at work on their own wares, so you decide to focus on yours. Steam carries the aroma of hearty meat and vegetable chunks all around your head and, unconcerned with the heat, you bring an overflowing spoon to your mouth.
The balance of sweet and savory catches you completely off guard. Each ingredient mixes together for one bite so unified and chewy it’s almost dreamy. Without another moment’s wait you dip into the stew again, making sure to catch as much as possible in case it somehow disappears. In between bites you tear off a piece of sweet bread and mix it with the stew, overjoyed by the taste. The combination of flavors is so hypnotizing you almost forget about the hour’s prior fall hiding in the recess of your mind. You figure you might as well get it over with, especially now that it’s at the forefront of your mind.
“So, I have to ask,” you start the conversation after a hard swallow, “but which one of you did that thing while you were running past me?”
The look of bewilderment begins with Aqua and quickly spreads to Terra.
“What thing?” the both of them ask slightly out of sync.
“Y’know, like...”
You search for the memory, but once you find it you second-guess if it’s worth even mentioning. The incident itself is unspectacular, but the fact that it occurred so close to you while they were so much farther away is bothering you. If they used any special tactics to get ahead, you just want to know. That’s all.
“‘Don’t be too sure,’” you follow up, attempting to replicate the odd inflection. “That?”
Just as you mentally played out, Aqua reacts first. She lowers her spoon and dons an amused expression, perfectly matched with the light chuckle hidden behind her other hand.
“I don’t think I could get my voice like that if I tried. Terra?”
Unlike Aqua, Terra doesn’t put down his utensil or even pause his motions. Instead he waits for his current morsel to break down before answering.
“C’mon, I don’t sound like that! I think you were experiencing hunger hallucinations.”
You playfully roll your eyes. “Really?”
He scoops up a generous portion and shovels it into his mouth. You’re simultaneously disgusted and relieved by his unchanged habits.
“Really. That or you’re tired. I think this is past your bedtime.”
You nudge him with your forearm before spooning another portion yourself. “Yeah, right. I feel like I’m older than you guys at this point.”
Aqua reaches a quarterway across the table to purposely muss your hair. “No way, you’re always going to be our tiny Ven.”
You drag out an exaggerated groan and tap away Aqua’s hand before shoveling bread into your mouth to defeat any oncoming embarrassment. A few moments of munching, though, and you feel compelled to bring up the rest of the incident.
“It also kinda felt like one of you guys pushed me.” You don’t look either of them in the eye when you say it, but you can feel their eyes on you.
“Push you?” Terra parrots.
“We definitely wouldn’t do that,” Aqua explains. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
You finally look up and settle your sights somewhere between them, too doubtful of yourself to meet their concerned gazes. “Yeah, actually, it probably was just my imagination.”
“That wind was pretty strong,” Terra adds.
You do nothing in return but offer a short laugh and resume your meal with the others. It wouldn’t be like them to lie, especially over something so trivial, so you accept defeat. Tired hunger hallucinations must really be the culprit.
“I hope the food is to your liking,” Chirithy murmurs, breaking you from your slump.
By the corners of your eyes you watch the Spirit hop onto the empty chair slightly behind you. You pivot in your seat and enthusiastically swallow your food.
“It’s amazing!” you declare.
“Really, oohh...” It shakes its arms and scoots in place. “What’s everyone’s favorite part?”
“Not fair,” Terra jokingly whines. “It’s all so delicious. Best meal I’ve had in a while.”
“Couldn’t have said it better,” Aqua agrees. “Thank you for doing this, Chirithy.”
“Yeah, I hope you saved some for yourself,” you add, going in for seconds.
“No, no, that’s okay,” Chirithy insists. “I’m a different kind of eater.”
“A dessert eater?” you mumble in jest, your cheeks puffed with food.
Terra perks up instantly. “Wait, there’s dessert?”
The four of you share raucous laughter that competes with the rolling thunder outside. You jump in your skin at the unpredictable claps but push your unease down with every bite.
“So, Aqua,” Terra begins in between chews, “there’s one thing we need to settle before tomorrow.”
Aqua peers up in the midst of eating with a scowl, as if she’s offended for being interrupted from enjoying her food. She merely voices an inquisitive hum and returns to her dinner.
“You know what I’m about to say,” he goes on, nodding at Chirithy.
The Spirit sighs. “Oh, boy....”
You mentally check out as your belly fills warm and heavy. Full sentences turn to word salad muddled by rain and thunder. Your friends carry on their conversation until it softens to background noise. Even your own chewing grows clearer than any conceivable language. You’d much rather get lost in the moment, absorbing the energy surrounding your body as your body absorbs the meal. Your actions resume on autopilot while your line of sight flutters around intricate arches and stained glass, each detail more mesmerizing than the last. It’s been several days since you returned to this place, though it feels like years, and the beauty of it surprises you with every passing night.
Yet at the same time your stomach sinks with dull nausea as your eyes slide over that one particular spot on the wall, or the ceiling, or the floor. Really there’s nothing spectacular about these spots other than the memory of being here once before in your youth, but something seems out of place now that you’re here twelve years later. Nausea rises from your stomach and straight to your head to fill it with unusual thoughts, so much so that you wonder if you can float out of your body just to avoid them. Yours eyes hone in on shapes across the room you’ve never cared to look at until your vision tunnels and a window no longer looks like a window. For a frozen moment you convince yourself that what’s out of place isn’t the room and all its shapes or the unfamiliar sense of detachment, but rather your own presence. You feel wrong.
“Ven, tell them I’m right.”
Aqua’s voice pulls you from your thought-train. Saves you from your potential thought-trainwreck, you imagine.
“What? Oh, uh, Aqua’s right. Didn’t we already settle this?”
With great effort you snap out of your daze, but it may already be too late. You have no idea what you’ve just agreed upon.
“Then it’s settled: Chirithy is my cuddle buddy tonight.”
It’s not an agreement you would’ve guessed, but you’re indifferent either way. Terra’s reaction is slightly more expectant as he shrugs his shoulders and pouts, clearly feigning indifference. Settled on that, you all go back to eating.
By the time your dinnerware is empty so are your thoughts, too spent from idle musings and passive engagement with your peers in favor of calming down from whatever disarming emotion you just experienced, however brief. Adjusting to your new life is no easy task, and although you have a long way to go, nights like these make it easier. It stands true even with tonight’s unusual hiccups.
“Thank you for the meal,” Aqua offers to Chirithy, who, for a Spirit lacking facial muscles, looks as pleased as ever.
“Yeah,” you agree into an open yawn, completely satisfied with the meal. “That’s the best I’ve had in...yeah.”
Terra stretches with a lean, tossing a funny glance your way. “Are you saying we’re bad cooks?”
You purse your lips. “No way! It’s just hard to explain. This whole night’s the best I’ve had in forever.” It’s true aside from the bad feelings that keep making their way back to you, but you don’t really want to talk about them right now.
Both Terra and Aqua smile at you, but it’s Aqua who reaches out. “I’m sure we’re all thinking the same thing.”
Her hand on your shoulder is as gentle as her words, and if you had to put a name to it you’d liken her to an older sibling. You’ve never had one of those, but it seems nice if it can be like this. You try to smile back at her but it jitters into another yawn.
“Aaand with that I bet we’re all thinking another thing,” Terra says as he stands up.
“Yeah, yeah,” you dismiss standing up as well and collecting your plates.
“Oh, please, you don’t need to clean up, too,” Chirithy urges jumping off its chair and waving at your hip.
“We want to,” Terra retorts, taking the words right out of your mouth. “It’s the least we can do after you made us a whole dinner.”
The Spirit grumbles at your side but the three of you largely ignore it as all the table’s wares are taken to the kitchen for cleaning. But once you get to the sink, Terra interrupts your initiation.
“Hey Ven, why don’t you go on up? Aqua and I will take care of the dishes.”
“Oh, really?” Aqua asks with a surly expression, warming up into laughter once Terra begins to stutter. “Yes, of course we’ll handle this.”
You breathe a sigh of relief and continue on your way. Before heading to the second floor staircase you brush past Chirithy and pause to pat its head.
“See you in the morning, bud.”
“Goodnight, Ven,” it wishes you with more confidence than the last time it was challenged to say your nickname.
You quickly crouch down to give it one more pet, throwing in a quick hug for good measure, and skip your way to the upper level. The halls aren’t bright enough from the distant lightning so you cast a bit of light magic to illuminate your way, even though you know this path like the back of your hand after all these years. The walls and floors aren’t as ornate as the Great Hall, but the subdued nature helps you feel more at home, which is especially needed on this strange night.
“Almost there,” you say to no one except maybe the creep of darkness behind your every step.
True to your word the curved door of your room comes into view around a corner, and in your rush of emotions you command it open without ever touching it. You extinguish the spell that’s draining what little energy you have left for the night and flip the switch on a suspended orb lamp by your desk. The room has noticeably chilled from the storm.
“Pants, pants,” you hum to yourself in a mantra to both ease your nerves and keep you awake long enough to finish getting ready for bed.
You scour your dresser and snatch the first set of warm pajamas between your palms. The items don’t match in any sense of the word but you’re too sleepy to care. Using the bright light of your room and the accompanying lightning you make your way to the adjacent bathroom, hardly registering your ministrations. You only recognize that you follow through on your usual nightly ritual of washing up, rinsing out, and emptying whatever it is you need to empty. It’s over before you even realize it started, so mundane that you also don’t notice Terra, Aqua, or Chirithy in the hall until you nearly bump into them.
“Sleep well, Ven,” Aqua says at her door. Chirithy waits by her side while Terra strolls to his own door.
You smile and wave at everyone before turning around to your room. “You, too.”
White light fills your view and in an instant the boom of thunder follows closely behind, but this time a shrill yelp comes with it. You spin around regaining just enough energy for alarm and concern as your eyes adjust to the darkness.
“Ven, are you okay?” Aqua calls out.
You stop in place. “Me? I thought that was you.”
When your eyesight takes too long to adapt you use your magic to shine light on the area, intrigue quickly settling in as the last member of the party seems to have already slipped into his room.
“Goodnight, guys!” Terra shouts from his closed room, seemingly too embarrassed to face anyone after that scream.
Aqua and you share a hushed exchange of giggles before waving goodnight and finally heading into your rooms. With the door closed behind you and a bed all to yourself, you waste no time to settle in.
The first thing you do is throw yourself onto your bed, relishing in the comfort of your pillows and sheets. The second thing you do is realize you need to turn off the light, which involves getting out of bed. Even if you used more hands-free magic, the amount it would take just to turn a light off, on top of the magic you’ve already used tonight, would leave you groggy all the way to Destiny Islands. World traveling is not pleasant when you’re groggy, no matter how good the driver may be.
So you grumble and mumble and roll out of bed to flip the switch, and once the lights are completely out there’s nothing left to do but shuffle into bed and let sleep take you to dreaming. You slip under three layers of sheets and blanket, contentedly cuddling up with the spare pillow at your torso and at last closing your eyes. With weighted fabric up to your ear your frame sinks into the mattress, warmth spreading from your head to your toes. Everything lines up perfectly to allow you an easy path to dreamland you hope is quick. Your drowsy mind maneuvers in and out of the day’s events, and whenever it touches on something you don’t want, you swiftly jump into a positive memory. You won’t let bad thoughts and voices reach you.
The wind howls behind your curled figure but you fight to pay it no mind. You listlessly whisper reassurances to yourself as another bang of thunder rumbles your window. You remind yourself that you’re comfortably in your warm bed in your childhood home, surrounded by friends and loved ones at any moment. Nothing can get to you here, no matter what the darkness around your body may say.
“Still afraid of storms, Ventus?”
You also remind yourself that darkness isn’t supposed to talk.