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~~~~~
The castle looms over the young man. This being his first stop, he’s not entirely sure he’s in the right place, or rather, the right time. The description of the place matches up, but he could be anywhere from minutes to decades off with no idea how to tell. Additionally, if he’s jumped even a minute too far, that complicates the whole plan.
With really no other choice, he climbs the steps to the front door, letting himself in. He’d heard a little of this place, seen a few paragraphs in books, but the Land of Departure is such a small world compared to Scala Ad Caelum. However, this is very obviously an off-shoot of the Scala training school; the only real difference lies in the missing inhabitants. Such spacious halls lack the chatter of students and staff despite the well-kept appearance.
“Identify yourself.”
He stops. That gruff voice rumbles with the faintest hint of familiarity. Curiosity piqued, the young man turns back.
It has to be him; it couldn’t be anyone else. Aside from that traditional style and the Master’s Defender prepared to strike, Xehanort could never mistake those eyes and no amount of hostility could mislead him. There’s no doubt now that Xehanort is far into the future, not while he stares at the aged face of the man Eraqus is to become.
He looks worn, as if the years have been long and hard and those scars prove nearly as much. That welcoming cheer from their very first meeting has been replaced by sheer apprehension, likely caused by his arduous life. It seems he’s become the soldier his parents always pushed him to be; and yet, surely, he can’t have forgotten his beloved.
Cautious hands lift to push the hood back and reveal the face hiding beneath.
Shock takes over the old warrior’s expression. “Xehanort?!”
“Eraqus.” It’s all Xehanort can come up with in his uncertainty.
“How is this possible?!” Resumed suspicion reaffirms that fighting stance.
First and foremost, Xehanort has a mission, one that could potentially fix everything that went wrong in their lives. They could have everything they lost, including the happiness stripped from them far too soon. Additionally, this is Eraqus, the one who saved Xehanort from self-destruction and gave him the motivation to do all these incredible things. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure Eraqus’s happiness. However, the stubborn blueblood often disapproved of Xehanort’s methods as of late and perhaps that’s only gotten worse as the years passed—perhaps plans should be kept quite even from one’s most precious. Having been caught here in the future, Young Xehanort must pick carefully which truths to divulge.
A soft exhale calms the nerves. “I’m from the past,” the traveler confesses. “Brought here by the version of me from this time.”
“How? What for?” Eraqus demands. “What proof do you have for any of this?”
“I can’t say how or why but…”
A well-seasoned Master Eraqus is probably not a fight Xehanort wants to pick, but he’ll need something personal to convince this man of the truth. He knows just the memory, but it’s not pleasant.
Xehanort’s gaze drops to the floor. “You once caught me on the roof of the citadel. You told me…that if I couldn’t find a reason not to step off, then you would make one.”
Eraqus’s mouth presses into a thin line; they never told anyone of that incident.
“So what are you doing here?”
Shaking off morbid memories, Xehanort replies, “Like I said, I can’t tell you that, but I need to find myself from this time. Is he here?”
Eraqus wears a heavy pity that agitates Xehanort—he may still be young with much to learn, but he’s never taken kindly to pity.
“You don’t know anything. You just left, didn’t you…”
“I left Scala several hours ago,” the youth says. That empathy grows. “Why?”
“You…Your older self doesn’t come by often.”
This is unexpected. Even as he left, Xehanort fully intended to visit his significant other once he got things set in motion. Besides, Xehanort is greedy—he knows it. He’s got only the sparsest restraint when it comes to indulging in his partner’s presence, so this statement by the man at the heart of that avarice makes no sense.
“Why not?” Xehanort is not going to remain calm if that look of condolence continues. “When does he come by?”
There’s a solemn shake of the old man’s head. “He doesn’t.”
“What do you mean he doesn’t?!” Xehanort barks, leather creaking with tightened fists. “He has to come visit you! He wouldn’t leave forever—not when you’re the person most important to him!”
The outburst does nothing against Eraqus’s empathy. “I’m sorry. Once you left, we started to view things differently. There were things we simply couldn’t agree on.”
“Then why didn’t you stop me?!”
“Nothing I said would’ve convinced you to stay.”
“No!” he shouts. “There’s no excuse! You should have stopped me! If me leaving made you so miserable, you shouldn’t have let me go! You should have cried or begged or even beat me over the head—whatever it took to make me stay!”
Tears form in the man’s eyes and that unwanted compassion pushes Xehanort past his threshold. With renewed determination, he stalks past the elder to resume the search for his future self.
A strong fist catches around the young man’s wrist. “Where are you going?”
His answer is short, sharp. “To do what I came here to do.”
For the third time, Eraqus presses, “And what would that be?”
Xehanort glowers. With a vague restraint in his voice, he spits, “I’m a time traveler; what do you think I’m doing here?”
“You can’t do that! There must be consequences to meddling with the timeline!” protests the elder.
“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT?!” the young man roars. “YOU THINK THIS IS JUST SOME STROLL IN THE PARK FOR ME?! OF COURSE I’M TRYING TO CHANGE WHAT HAPPENED AND I DON’T GIVE A FUCK WHAT IT COSTS! IT COULD COST MY LIFE AND I WOULDN’T GIVE A DAMN! THEY DESERVED BETTER! YOU—” Fury falters as the words catch in his throat and the edges of his vision blurs. “You deserve better.”
Guilt resonates on that marred face; this is why Xehanort never told him. Eraqus had said a million times over that what happened wasn’t Xehanort’s fault, but a deep sadness settled in Eraqus’s heart that was clear to the Seeker. For Xehanort, the loss of his friends was already unbearable enough, but to have the love of his life stuffing down his turmoil behind a flighty façade tipped the scales. So now he’s here.
With a look of defeat, Eraqus pleads, “Don’t do this. Please.”
“I’m doing this for you.” Again, the older master begins to argue, but the younger has had enough and pulls away. “You couldn’t stop me then, and based on what I’ve seen today, you can’t stop me now. Take care of yourself.”
With that, Xehanort leaves.
It’s been a few hours since the confrontation, but Xehanort still hasn’t found a single clue to the whereabouts of his present self. He’s hopped a few worlds and even double checked those he’d been drawn to in the past, but nothing comes up. Worst of all, something is pulling him back to the Land of Departure. He can’t shake the feeling that, no matter what Eraqus says, Xehanort would return to him eventually. They must still love each other or else he wouldn’t be here.
His arrival is noiseless and unnoticed, but with each step closer to the castle, he hears the escalating sounds of a battle. Peering around a pillar across from the castle steps, Xehanort sees Eraqus squaring off with a young, brunette man.
As he watches, Xehanort notices enough between the two to speculate that there’s a clearly straining relationship. Considering the use of darkness by the younger man and Eraqus’s violent abhorrence of it, Xehanort assumes that’s the cause of the clash. The winner would be an easy call if it were a simple fight, but that boost of darkness significantly closes the gap; so it comes as a surprise when the younger warrior rushes past Eraqus, causing him to stumble. It takes every bit of self-control Xehanort has not to act on protective urges as the Master’s Defender falls from its wielder’s hand.
Terra, as named by Eraqus, is upset with his success. He cries over it, but his master is the one to apologize, admitting that his own heart is full of darkness. That declaration plays in the gray area of Xehanort’s mind. He already knows Eraqus is a good man with his heart bound to the light. What he doesn’t understand is that light, too, can make mistakes—mistakes which may beget darkness. Xehanort has tried explaining this before, but the noble would have none of it.
A dark figure at the top of the stairs catches Young Xehanort’s eye too late. A blaring ring fills his ears seeing that man aim a familiar weapon. There’s no time to react; he’s too far away to do anything. Before Xehanort’s very eyes, the man he loves, and should have always loved, fades.
With the reality of what happened beginning to sink in, his eyes focus on the man strolling down the steps. Anger ignites in his heart until he hears Terra question the stranger.
“Master Xehanort! Why?”
Master Xehanort—that man, the very person who killed his beloved Eraqus, is Xehanort himself.
A dark storm swallows the sky, mirroring the wrath churning in the young man’s chest. With nothing but that rage guiding him, he rushes after the assassin into the dark portal. This new land is empty and barren save the mass of foreboding keyblades strewn about, but Xehanort has other concerns right now. Waiting just outside his attack range is the murderer.
That man’s voice is filled with the gravel of age, but no remorse can be detected. “I wondered when you would arrive.”
“You killed Eraqus.” Fists tremble at the young man’s sides, that quivering creeping into his chest.
“I did.” Only a man scorned like Young Xehanort could withstand those chilling yellow eyes.
Furious, he yells back, “That’s it?! That’s all you have to say?! How could you?! He was the only reason I didn’t throw myself off the citadel! HE’S THE REASON YOU STILL EXIST!”
“Ah, the foolishness of my youth.” His casual dismissal drives the young Seeker’s heart rate up. “It’s true he’s the reason I exist today, but Eraqus’s departure was necessary. You know firsthand how loyal his heart is to the light.”
The response tears from his throat. “AND THAT’S JUSTIFICATION TO MURDER HIM?!”
“He just didn’t understand that this is all for him, to create the life that he should’ve had. You knew there were consequences to meddling with time.”
With no comeback, the young adult sneers, but the old master has one last remark that cuts to the quick.
“As you said: they deserved better—he deserves better.”
The words spoken just hours ago, shoved back in his face, incite the anguish burning in his heart. Rationality devolves and Young Xehanort charges his future self.
All his life, Xehanort let his mind dictate his path. Moves were not made without thought to the consequences, but this—this is something beyond even the purpose of this mission and everything in him is screaming for revenge. Grief and anger cloud his judgement and spur attacks too straightforward to connect, however, that sloppiness doesn’t discourage him.
Old Xehanort swipes, successfully disarming his younger self, and with the same ruthlessness shown to his former love, he eliminates the man from the past.
Golden eyes meet gold; even as he’s being dragged back into his own time, the young man emanates his fury.
Unbothered by the turn of events, the victor simply states, “One day, you will understand.”
~~~~~
The elder watches his past self disappear among the shadows. It’s unfortunate how naïve he was, but this was to be expected—he and Eraqus had been so in love. Xehanort still possesses those feelings, which is why the decision had been so difficult. There’s a hole in his heart but he understands that sometimes things must be broken for them to become better and that’s the sort of thing the Seeker is betting on.
In lieu of these unfortunate circumstances, he’s going to have to prepare a backup—to persuade his young self into venturing into the future a second time.
As the thought occurs, darkness flares from the ground, creating a portal from which steps the young man that just tried to smite him. He’s more prepared than he gave himself credit for. He beckons the young man to follow to discuss the details of their plan. Even as they speak, the senior can see a spark in the new master’s eyes. There’s a curiosity that he will no doubt seek answers for.
“How is Eraqus?”
He should’ve known.
Enacting his hard-earned skill of smothering his emotions, the old man answers, “Eraqus is dead.”
The youth freezes, clearly distraught. “How?”
A deep breath conveys true sorrow while concealing the lie. “The same as the others.”
Hard determination grows on the young man’s face. Knowing that look and knowing himself, old Master Xehanort has ensured his ignorant self’s unquestionable devotion to the mission.
~~~~~
Despair shakes his heart, waking the young man. Opening heavy eyelids, Young Xehanort finds a room illuminated with soft moonlight. Although this is not his room, it’s still familiar. Normally this place would bring him some solace but the discomfort he feels is intense.
Whatever this is, it’s akin to a nightmare, slipping from his grasp as he tries to remember; it’s confusing and upsetting and damn near painful. Xehanort has had days where getting up for training was hard, he’s been injured so badly he’s been unable to stand, and he’s suffered unending fatigue at the hands of depression; but none of that compares to the sheer heartache of this moment and he doesn’t even understand why.
Gentle humming draws his gaze lower and he immediately chokes down a whimper. Pressed flush against him is the love of his life, peacefully snoring away. Even with his messy hair and a little drool, he’s absolutely beautiful. No sight could be more stunning and yet, it’s also the most painful. Whatever vice is clenching down on Xehanort’s heart has to do with Eraqus.
Of course, Xehanort’s always had those fears that maybe he can’t make Eraqus happy or that maybe he’s not good enough—as quoted by the noble’s parents—but even those feel so trivial compared to this dread. It breaks him more than anything ever has.
His quivering is impossible to stifle and sniffles begin sneaking past his defense. To make matters worse, his sleeping partner stirs.
“Xehanort?” Such a sweet sound worsens the turmoil. “Xe, what’s wrong?”
There it is: the first hiccup that destroys the weary dam holding everything in and he breaks down right there.
Eraqus doesn’t press for an answer but instead holds his sweetheart tightly. With the unknown sorrow flooding his system, Xehanort sobs into his boyfriend’s chest, desperately hoping to get this misery under control before he has to say goodbye to Eraqus in the morning.