Work Text:
Gather ‘round and let me share with you the tale of the goldsmiths’ son, Sora. ‘Tis said that his heart of gold tamed the night and saved these lands. Our tale begins here in our fair kingdom, in a nameless town by the sea.
Sora loved its cobblestone streets, swaying palm trees, and jewel-toned houses, but there was another reason he loved visiting it. After joining his father in peddling their family’s wares all week, their last stop was this town, when his father could handle the stall alone. Free from all responsibility, Sora would enjoy his day off at the seaside with his best friend, Riku.
Every week, from morning until the sun began to sink between the twin dark mountains across the cove, the two boys played together as boys do, getting into mischief and coming up with grand adventures in their youth, and, in adolescence, ignoring the encroaching responsibilities of adulthood to instead dream of fanciful futures together.
In all those years, every time Riku said goodnight on the beach at sunset, Sora would smile at him and ask, “Can I see you home?” in hopes of catching a glimpse of his best friend’s real life and family he never spoke of but often fantasized freedom from.
But Riku always denied him.
“I’ve told you before—my aunt hates outsiders,” he’d say. “She’s the reason I can’t stay out past sunset.” Then he’d don his cloak and give Sora a charming smile. “See you next week?”
And always, Sora would look upon that smile and wonder what secrets his best friend carried into the night.
Still, he’d answer with a promise. “See you next week.”
That is, until one day…
When Sora’s father fell ill, the local chirurgeon said it was unlike any sickness she had ever seen before: sudden lethargy, patches of black veins along his limbs, and gradual loss of feeling until he couldn’t rise from bed.
Nearing seventeen years old now, Sora was familiar enough with the trade to run the stall himself, so he volunteered to take over the market responsibility. He stocked up their chocobo carriage with his family’s wares and headed from town to town. There, he manned the marketplace stall alone and found himself overwhelmed by the countless customers stopping by for his services.
He was so busy, it was nightfall before he realized he had missed his chance to see Riku before sunset. A shadow on his heart, Sora sluggishly packed the cart and headed home, too exhausted to daydream of any fanciful futures where he wasn’t the goldsmiths’ disappointment of a son.
The next week, his father still hadn’t recovered. The black veins had spread throughout his body, and he was now having trouble speaking and staying awake.
The cold grip of fear carried Sora’s determination back into the marketplaces to handle the workload alone, again taking the same route through the nearby villages, and at the end of the week, he stopped in the town by the sea.
He passed another busy day tending the family stall, until long shadows cast across the market square as the sun set beyond the horizon, and he realized he’d once again missed his chance to see his best friend. He hoped Riku didn’t hate him for breaking their promise to see each other two weeks in a row.
When Sora returned home, his father had only grown weaker. Sora knew what had to be done.
Throughout the next week, he did everything he could to take over the easier crafts and repairs. As he tinkered with watches and set precious gemstones in rings, gone were the thoughts of the fanciful futures he had playfully dreamt of with Riku. Responsibility weighed on him, but it also kept him going whenever his confidence faltered.
Three weeks after he’d last seen Riku, an exhausted Sora found himself once again in the nameless town by the sea, and by mid-morning, he was overwhelmed by customers. As they left one by one, he lifted his gaze to greet his next customer: a tall figure in a well-tailored cloak.
Beneath that dark hood, larimar eyes smiled at him.
“Riku?”
Sora’s heart swelled with countless emotions as his best friend smiled that handsome smile and washed all of his brave defenses away. He wanted to tell him how much he’d missed him, how sorry he was for not sending word, how scared he was for his father, how tired he was of being an adult—
But all that would come out were tears.
Riku pulled him out of sight behind the stall, and as his arms folded around Sora, Sora let weeks of tension and anxiety pour out of him.
“I don’t have my father’s eye for detail,” he cried.
“But you have his way with people,” Riku said as his fingers combed through Sora’s hair.
“I don’t have my mother’s steady hands.”
“But you have her unwavering compassion.”
“I don’t have your quiet strength.”
“But you have your colorful imagination.”
With snot and tears running down his face, Sora glanced up, saw his best friend’s encouraging smile, and felt reassured.
As Riku used a corner of his cloak to help clean Sora’s face, Sora hiccupped and explained everything that had happened the past few weeks because of his father’s sudden, grave illness.
Riku’s hands fell still. His gaze darkened as he listened.
When Sora finished his tale, Riku’s expression looked like clouds parting after a storm, giving way to calm clarity. Then, Riku spoke.
“Can I see you home?”
Such a familiar question, but it was the first time Sora had heard Riku ask it. Sora didn’t even think to ask why; he just nodded, grateful to have Riku there with him.
Another smile touched Riku’s lips in response.
And as the sun began to set between the twin dark mountains across the cove, the shadows grew along the edges of the road, and so did the tension in Riku’s shoulders. When they at last arrived at Sora’s home, the moon was high, and as they climbed off the carriage, Riku’s hand rested over his. Sora looked up at him in question.
“I want to see your father,” Riku said. Though delivered in a soft tone, his words carried such authority that Sora didn’t hesitate to oblige.
Inside the house, his father rested in bed, his skin paler than the moon except for the black marble veins that stretched across his entire body. Sora’s mother was with him, and she looked so relieved to see him.
“You’re home!” Her voice was like weathered brass, and she struggled to her feet. “You brought a friend?”
Sora started to introduce him. “This is Riku. You know, the one I’ve told you about—”
“Thank you for allowing me into your fine home,” Riku gently cut in, as smooth as polished silver, with an extended hand.
As Sora’s mother rested her hand in Riku’s, Sora spotted a stretch of black veins on her skin like his father’s, and fear tightened like a vise inside of him.
But Riku pressed a gentleman’s kiss to the back of her hand and gave her that selfsame smile that usually eased Sora’s nerves. “‘Tis an honor to finally meet you. Sora has your eyes…”
“You’re quite the charmer,” she said with a smile that reached her tired gaze. Was it Sora’s imagination, or did she seem to have more color in her cheeks? She took her hand from Riku and rested it over her heart, only this time there were no black veins. Had Sora only imagined them…? “Please, make yourself at home.”
As she left the room, Sora took a seat next to his gravely ill father, and Riku came to stand beside him. No words passed between them. Only his father’s ragged breaths punctuated the silence. Then, Riku leaned over and touched his father’s chest.
A pale glow emanated from Riku’s fingers, soft and silvery like the moonlit sea, and with a graceful gesture, he pulled his hand back, fingers curling as if grasping something Sora couldn’t see.
Sora leapt to his feet with a great gasp.
Riku yanked —and there within the light around his fingers, Sora saw them: ribbons of shadow, thick and wriggling. Sora tried to make sense of what he was seeing, stunned wordless as Riku pulled something shining from within his cloak and used it to sever the ends of the shadows.
A brilliant flash struck through the air, and Sora shielded his eyes.
Then all was still.
When Sora looked next, everything was back to normal. No squirming shadows. Riku’s hand no longer glowed. But what caught Sora’s attention was his father there on the bed, with not a trace of black veins.
Riku had cured him.
That night, Sora and his mother celebrated Riku’s kindness with a hearty feast and an invitation to stay the night. Riku gave no explanation for the miracle, merely offering reassurance that Sora’s father would make a full recovery in a few days.
“It was maleficite,” Riku said once they were alone in Sora’s room.
Sora looked up from preparing a second bed. “What was?”
“What caused the sickness.” Riku opened the bedroom window to let in the cool evening air. Even now, he still wore his large cloak. “It’s an ore only found in the mountains. Every few years, people find a vein and try to use it. They like it because of its iridescence and flamelike patterns.” He shook his head and sighed, drawing his cloak closer around him. “I saw some in the marketplace earlier, so a miner must have struck a vein. Your father probably bought some, so you’ll need to get rid of it before your parents get sick again.”
Although Sora believed him, he couldn’t recall ever seeing this kind of ore before. “How can it make people sick?”
“The mountains are cursed,” Riku said. He glanced out the window at the waning moon. “And so is anything that comes from them.”
Sora frowned as he listened, but he trusted Riku. “How do I get rid of it?”
There was a shadow of worry in Riku’s expression, but after a moment, he reached inside his cloak. “Light. Don’t let any shadows touch it for three whole days.” Then he held something out to Sora.
In his hand was a small pendant, tarnished and worn by touch, but distinctly shaped like a crown.
“And this will protect you from the darkness,” Riku explained. He took Sora’s hand in his and pressed the pendant into it. “I want you to have it.”
Sora closed his fingers over the crown, a tender warmth in his heart.
He held it to his chest. “Thank you…”
Riku just smiled that handsome smile of his, and Sora felt a happy flutter inside of him.
When their hands parted, Sora got to his feet and cleared his throat. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ve got some things to take care of before bed.” Then he left his room, giving Riku time to settle in.
As the evening grew darker, Sora worked in his parents’ workshop to restore the beautiful crown pendant, taking great care as he cleaned and polished it until it glimmered bright in the candlelight.
Tucking it safe in the pocket by his heart, Sora left the workshop and returned to his bedroom. Quiet as he could be, he opened the door and shed candlelight into the room, where he saw Riku’s figure curled up in his bed, fast asleep.
He crept closer, the candlelight faintly illuminating Riku, whose cloak had shifted in his slumber. And there was something else beneath that cloak, moving gently with Riku’s breathing...
Leaning close, Sora lifted the candle over his friend to get a better look.
In the darkness, Sora saw them: a pair of leather wings, like a bat’s.
Sora stumbled back with a gasp, spilling three drops of melted tallow on Riku’s skin, waking him in an instant. Larimar eyes snapped open, and when Riku saw Sora’s expression, his wings flared wide with panic.
Before Sora could say anything, Riku fled through the open window and into the moonlit sky.
A terrible storm tore through the countryside for the next few days, and although Sora wanted to find Riku and apologize, he stayed home to take care of the maleficite.
Sora’s father made a miraculous recovery, just as Riku’d promised, and Sora showed his parents how to destroy the cursed ore, as Riku’d taught him. On the third day, the ore turned as pale as the moon, and Sora was reminded of Riku.
At the start of the new week, Sora and his father packed the chocobo cart, determined to warn the town about the maleficite and to thank Riku for saving his life. When they arrived, the town was still and quiet, many households struck by a sudden, familiar illness. As Sora’s father spoke with the mayor, Sora searched the beaches and beyond to look for any sign of his best friend, but Riku was nowhere to be found.
When Sora returned, his father and the mayor were clueless about how to keep the entire town bright for three whole days. To Sora, the solution was simple.
“We’ll make our own light. We’ll make lanterns—one for every door, window, and bed—and shine our light for three whole nights to scare this curse away!”
And so Sora worked tirelessly with his father and other craftspeople of the town to create lanterns, each with a crown-shaped pendant of protection molded into its cage. Soon, every home had lanterns shining brightly over windows and doorways, and one by one, those who had fallen ill began to recover after they’d bathed in that light.
The townsfolk were so grateful for Sora and his father’s help, the mayor presented them with a gift: a key, shaped into an intricate winged heart, rumored to bring luck to those in need.
As they left town in high spirits, Sora worked the key onto a necklace, which he wore with pride.
They were only a mile past the town when a great shadow blotted out the evening sun. That was the only warning they had before a massive streak of black crashed into their chocobo cart and sent them tumbling into the dirt road. It was a dragon, as black as obsidian, with wings that filled the sky with night.
Sora scrambled and stumbled to his feet, hearing his father shout for help as the dragon overtook them. All he could think of in that moment was Riku’s gentle voice as he’d said, This will protect you from the darkness.
Clutching the crown pendant, he threw himself in front of his father, crying Riku’s name.
A blinding brilliance billowed outward from the crown, stunning the dragon—and Sora—before he was lifted straight off the ground. Wind whipping past him, he clutched the crown with terror, the road and his father and the world shrinking below him, as midnight scales tightened around him.
Though Sora couldn’t see where they were going, he somehow knew it would be the twin dark mountains across the cove that he had admired for years. Sora soon found himself thrown into a cold prison made of iridescent black stone that shone in the moonlight streaming through the high windows.
Through the gloom of the prison, he saw the dragon’s massive form suddenly surround in green flames, and when they dispersed, a tall woman stood there, draped in dark robes and with hair the silver of cresting waves. In her hand, she carried a long scepter with an eye-like jewel at the head.
Chin held aloft, she moved slowly towards Sora’s cell as if gliding, her expression one of chilled contempt as she studied him.
“You know who I am,” she said.
Sora still held the crown pendant in his hand. “You’re Riku’s aunt.”
“Mmm, yes.” A thin smile tugged at her lips. “And you are a dull, ordinary boy.”
Sora stepped away from the door of the prison as she glided closer, her voice now a sibilant hush.
“When your life fades, so will his light.”
With a sweep of her scepter, a gust of shadow slammed the prison door shut, locking Sora within.
And as he stood there in the darkness, he reflected on what had brought him here: his family’s legacy, his relationship with Riku, and his own determination to protect both. Sora clenched his fingers around the crown charm and took a steadying breath.
He focused through the shadows, searching for a way out, and his eye caught a subtle detail carved over the door’s keyhole: a winged heart. Slipping the key free from around his neck, he used it in the door, and as he heard the tumblers click open, his spirits soared at his unexpected luck.
With steady hands, he cracked the door open and slid through without making a sound. Sora crept through the castle, peering into each and every doorway in hopes of finding his friend, and in the highest tower of the castle, there he was.
Riku.
With his wings curled around him, he floated aloft in a bubble made of darkness.
Sora held the crown pendant close to him as he approached his best friend.
“I finally found you, Riku.”
Slowly, Riku’s head lifted, shadows beneath his eyes. “Sora?” Then there was fear. His wings unfolded, tense and trembling, as he stared down at him. “Why are you—how—when? You shouldn’t be here—”
“Your aunt brought me here.”
“She’ll kill you!”
“She hasn’t yet,” Sora pointed out. He crossed his arms behind his head and smiled up at Riku to reassure him. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“I can’t.” Riku shook his head, his wings drooping. “I don’t have my aunt’s power.”
“No, but you have your own power.”
“I don’t have your compassion or resolve.”
“No, but you have your own kind of strength.”
“I’ve failed; I don’t have a future.”
“You do,” Sora said as he pressed a hand against the shadowy prison. “You have me.”
Through the swirling patterns of darkness, he saw Riku’s eyes light with an unspoken emotion. Wings lifting, as if daring to hope, Riku reached a hand out and pressed it against Sora’s. Their eyes met, and as they shared a smile, a tender warmth filled their hearts.
“So…”
Both of them gave a start as a woman’s voice cut through the room. She glided out of the shadows, the tap of her long scepter echoing like thunder over a roiling sea, then paused a distance away to narrow her eyes at Riku.
“...you chose light.”
Beyond the castle’s shroud, the sky cracked and rippled.
When she lifted her scepter towards them, Sora wasted no time. Leaping between her and Riku’s prison, he flung the crown pendant at her and shielded his eyes as light once again billowed through the darkness, staggering her.
Riku flew past him, dark wings flared. Sora watched with awe as a silvery sword wrapped in shadow formed in Riku’s hand, and with one mighty stroke, he cleaved it through her scepter.
The scepter’s focus hit the ground with a sharp CLACK and rolled towards Sora, who scooped it up and held it up for Riku. It was warm, humming with incredible energy, and swiveled in his hand to reveal a large slitted pupil staring straight at him.
Riku plucked the giant eye from Sora’s hand and held it over his defeated aunt, who had fallen to one knee and was clutching an arm that was bleeding darkness. He drove his sword into the eye, enveloping it in its silvery light and consuming it, before it faded from sight.
“I’m free,” he announced, his wings held high. “And you hold no more power over me.”
There was an edge to Riku’s expression that frightened Sora in that moment, as Riku turned back towards his aunt with his moonlit sword outstretched.
“Leave these lands and never return.”
And without waiting for her response, Riku plucked the crown pendant from the floor and pressed it into Sora’s hand. Their fingers laced together. Only then did Sora realize his hand had been shaking the whole time. He clutched Riku’s and took comfort in it.
Together they left the hidden castle and flew across the cove to the shoreline where they had spent so many years playing together.
As the dawn bathed the jewel-toned town in its warm light, Sora and Riku watched, hand in hand, as one of the dark mountains across the cove faded into nothing, no longer a twin. Like a sand sculpture yielding to the gentle wash of the surf, the lingering tension in Riku’s body surrendered.
Riku, whose wings had faded in the morning sun, wrapped an arm around Sora’s waist and pulled him close, smiling that handsome smile of his.
“Can I see you home?”
The End.