Chapter Text
Ephemer can’t move.
The water’s gentle flow bobs him slightly up and down. A swirling wind tousles his silver curls. But he can’t move a single muscle as he takes in the devastating sight of Daybreak Town’s wreckage around him, with a grip so tight it makes his hands tremble against the cold, metal mouth of the lifeboat.
He sees a chunk of orchid roof tiles float by, followed by some chimneys.
Then, a piece of the docks.
The door to someone’s apartment.
One of the computer screens from the control room.
A bridge railing.
Bricks from broken down streets.
…The all too familiar sight of a clocktower gear, spinning on its own.
He can’t stop the sudden onslaught of nausea from passing through him, almost retching over the side of the pod. The more he’s able to recognize where the pieces of debris came from, the less he can stomach looking at them. He has to force his hands to loosen, before he warily looks around to the other side—a pained noise leaving his throat when he sees the exact same thing for miles. He’s shaking now, fear setting in too fast for him to make any sense of it.
“…Skuld? Skuld?” He calls out in trepidation, getting no response. There’s no telling whether or not she made it out of this disaster. Whether the lifeboat carried her safely to a new world, leaving her just as alone and afraid as he is…or if she’s buried somewhere, under all this rubble. Both options make his chest hurt.
He leans over the edge of the lifeboat, peering into cold, murky nothingness. It’s impossible to see anything, but that doesn’t matter to him. Taking the deepest breath he can take, he dives in, instantly feeling pain the second he’s submerged, the saltwater stinging his numerous battle wounds. Swimming causes a sharp pain to run up his left side, indicating that something is worrisomely wrong, but he ignores it, focusing on anything, anything he can find—
Narrowly dodging a large piece of pipe, Ephemer struggles in the depths, using Starlight to try and light his way down, but even it can’t clear the haze. The added weight of the Keyblade makes it even more difficult to maneuver the cold waters, and out of desperation, he pushes his arms to his sides, swimming down in a frenzy again and again and again and please and please and please, let Skuld be above the wreckage, let her lifeboat surface, let her swim up towards him and grab his hand, please, please, please—
But he’s out of breath and out of energy too soon, flung back up to the surface gasping, chest aching with an excruciating pain. Catching his breath sounds more like wheezing, and he gingerly paddles his way back to the lifeboat, wincing and shivering, knowing now for sure that at least one thing is broken inside him.
Soaked to the bone, clothes clinging heavily to his small frame, he collapses within the lifeboat onto his back, rocking it erratically for a minute or so before it settles again. Ephemer stares blankly up at the greying sky, unnerved by the deafening silence around him.
This can’t be real.
He pinches his arms, twisting the skin until it bleeds.
This can’t be real.
This must still be the data world, a simulation, a hologram, or just a bad dream…right?
The grey clouds overhead grow blurry as thick, pellucid tears fill his eyes, running down his temples into his ears and joining the dampness of his silver curls. Each moment he remains, trapped in this neverending nightmare, the more agonizing the pain in his chest becomes, heavily outweighing the stinging of his reddened skin. He doesn’t know whether to sob or scream, to thrash or swim…to live or die.
Deep down, he knows he should be trying harder. He and his friends fought so hard to survive and carry the hopes of a new world and generation with them. They were given a mission to keep the light alive. The least he can do is try paddling himself to the nearest land mass. But in his paralysis, with every ounce of strength drained from his body, all he does is squeeze his eyes shut. Hoping to forget it all by the next ever-rising dawn.
The lifeboat cradles his near lifeless body as he lets go of the world, falling into a deep sleep. He descends endlessly into nothingness…not having it in him to care about where the waves might take him.
“Someone needs to keep everything and everyone in order. Otherwise, light will expire.”
”There are only five of us, and we need to stick together.”
”You broke…your promise.”
”I trust you’ll guide us down the right path.”
”It’s hard seeing Viribus like that. And I hate lying…but I know it’s for the best.”
“Everything’s going to be alright.”
”I wonder if you would feel the same if you were there to witness the end.”
”I’ll stay. I’m not even a Dandelion. I’m just here as your friend.”
”May your heart be your guiding key, Ephemer. Just like mine is for me.”
”I’m right where I want to be.”
”Darkness could be much closer than we thought, working right under our noses.”
”Viribus’ heart has been lost to darkness.”
”Do you think they all got there safely?”
”They cannot hear you.”
”Whatever you decide to do, you have our support. I want you to know that.”
“Open a gate, and they will be returned.”
“It takes so much time and effort to create, but only an instant to destroy…”
“ᵢf ₒₙₗy yₒᵤ’d gₒₜₜₑₙ ᵢₙ ₜₕₑ ₗᵢfₑbₒₐₜ.”
”Thank you, Ephemer…”
L̸̬̾e̷̢͕̝̾̿͊̊̓͜ţ̴̣̜̦̹̥͚̘̂̆͜ ̵̢̜̠̯̹͈͒̅͋̈́ŷ̶̡̢̨͉̱̻̩̰͠ớ̸̧̛̭͎̰̥̓̈́̿̈́͘͝͝ǘ̴͕̭̙̜̮̏͒͌̂̊̃̈́͘r̷͎͖͇͚̪̲̞͙̫̂ ̴̛͎̝̋̄̿̓̽̉̂̏h̶̢̞̭̊͊̒͛̋̈͘a̸̢̧̫̫̫͉̔̄̓͠t̵͚͈̯̦̘̝̣̑̓͠ŗ̵̣̭̮̣͓̺̞͎̃͆̈́͜͠e̴̢̅ḍ̵̘͔̗̠̦̯̘̈̑̀̀͜͜͝ ̴̼͛̀̽̿̈͝g̵̨̧̢̞̦̯̝̖̙̪̓̉̎͗̀͗̐̀͘ȑ̵̛̠̅̓̒͊͆ơ̴̩̈͋̀͒̾̕̚w̴̡̑̏́̾̒͊̽͘.̶̙̹̤̜͋̉̈́͐̾ ̶̛̩̪͍̼̩̩̿̃̇͆̈́̒̓̈́͝İ̶̻̞͔͔̒̾̌̀̈̇͝͝ͅt̶̡͕̘̹̬̠͚̬͖̦̿̇͑̊̀͛̇́̚͝ ̷̡̻̫̠̲̫̹͇̊̋̓͗͒̀̆̏͌͂f̴̞̗̥̦̈́̊͋̒̀̓́̄u̵̘͖̲̠̒e̵̬͎͆̇̆͝͝l̴̳̦̥̯̖͔͋́͂͑̉͒s̷̨̺͑͠ ̶̳͔̣̥̞̀̉̈́̿̆͘͘ͅû̶̝͓̲̻̖̤̆̓́͌͘͜͝͠ş̷̙͈͖͚̘͙͓͔̔̉̔͐ͅ.̷̠́̏͋̽̈̍͌̈̚͜”̸̧̦̝̱̿̂͌͑͑͌̏̌͗
“I’m glad I don’t have to face the end alone.”
He hears the distant call of gulls before his eyes can open, and for a moment, he believes he’s back home. Maybe it was just a bad dream after all.
But upon the fluttering of his teal eyes, he can’t recognize where he is. The sun shines just the same in this unfamiliar place, a spare room in a quaint home made of cedar wood, by the looks of it. The bed is soft and inviting. He almost doesn’t want to leave, but his body aches, and his curiosity has gotten the better of him, as usual, nagging at him to figure out where he could be.
His clothes are neatly folded on a nightstand next to him. The clothes he has on currently are a simple pair of cream linen pyjamas that are almost his size, only slightly bigger. He takes just his scarf, tying it around his neck. Slowly and warily…he gets up and exits through the only door, entering a common eating and living area.
He’s not sure why he’s surprised to see other people, but he stands there awkwardly for a few moments until the three of them register his presence and quickly gather around him.
“You’re awake!” An auburn-haired boy around his age beams at him.
A woman in her forties with her auburn hair in a bun delicately pats his shoulders, checking for something, he’s not sure what. “How are you feeling?”
“Have you got your wits about you, young one?” An elderly gentleman asks, hobbling over with his wooden cane.
“…I, uh, I think so.” It feels like it’s been an eternity since he last spoke.
Hearing the coarseness of his voice, the boy fetches him water, which he gulps down gratefully. “…Where am I? And who are you?”
“The name’s Charis. This is my mom, Xenia, and my gramps, Fidel,” The auburn-haired boy introduces, his emerald green eyes shining in the morning light, “This is our home.”
“…I’m Ephemer.” His head feels so heavy, yet so weightless at the same time. “Sorry, I’m really confused…what….what happened to me?”
Fidel strokes his white stubbled chin. “Charis stumbled upon you in some strange contraption, washed up on the shore. He came runnin’ for us the second he did.”
“We didn’t expect you to wake up so soon, given the state we found you in,” Xenia admits. Her voice is so hushed it’s almost easy to miss. “Your injuries are quite severe.”
“Injuries…?” Ephemer touches his cheek and feels a bandage covering the left part of his jaw. He remembers scraping it on the ground during the fight against—
His heart drops so suddenly that he almost crumples to his knees. Charis and Xenia reach out to steady him, but he doesn’t feel their hands. He doesn’t hear their words. He only sees Daybreak Town. What’s left of it. The lack of it. The red of his arms.
He only sees the turbulent murky waters crashing against the window of his lifeboat.
He only sees Skuld, her cheeks laden with tears. Her eyes tightly shut, not wanting to see the home they once protected together get torn to shreds.
He only sees darkness, glaring eyes, a valiant heart, pierced by the smouldering tip of his own Keyblade—
No.
Not here. Not now.
“Erfemer? Erfemer, are you okay?!” Charis exclaims in his face, visibly alarmed.
“Ephemer.” His lips move on their own, correcting his name out of habit. The room has turned freezing cold in an instant. He can see his hands shaking. He wishes he’d put on his gloves.
He’s guided to a dining chair, and presses one of his hands against his aching chest. He can tell his entire torso is covered in bandages now. “I-I’m fine. I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s starting to come back to me.”
Fidel sighs, creases folding in his brow. “Truth be told, we’re not fully sure what happened. There was a tornado, bigger than anything we’ve ever seen before. It pelted the entire town like a hailstorm, but we were far enough from the sea to make it through. Daybreak wasn’t so lucky though. Fisherman buddies of mine say it was completely wiped off the map.”
“Papa,” Xenia stops him with an admonishing tone.
“Forgive me,” Fidel says, clearing his throat, “I just thought it right for you to know the truth.”
Ephemer sinks into his seat. “…How long has it been?”
“Three days since the storm died down,” Xenia replies, “Two since we felt it safe enough to leave our home. One since we found you.”
He shakes his head, feeling sick again recounting the countless chunks of familiar buildings and structures scattered across the ocean.
She sympathetically holds his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. You came from that wreckage…that means you’re a citizen of Daybreak Town, aren’t you?”
“I…” He looks at his bare hands, pale and shaky. “I don’t know what I am anymore.”
Xenia reassures him that he can stay with them for as long as he needs. Charis brings him a bowl of fresh soup. Fidel shakes his head with pity, running a hand down his face. The morning chores are tended to, and every now and then, the three of them whisper to one another, not realizing that he can still hear them. Ephemer knows that eavesdropping is one of his worst habits, but he just can’t help himself.
“What do you think everyone will say?”
“It doesn’t matter, Gramps. Even if he’s a drifter, he’s like any other patient, right, Mom? We have to take care of him.”
“Yes. There’s clearly more going on with him than his physical injuries. He’s disoriented.”
“And the poor guy’s got nowhere else to go…”
“He needs rest. Come now, Charis. We have lots of work to do.”
For them, life goes on after this incident. But Ephemer isn’t sure what lies ahead for him, if there’s even anything left.
A part of him knows he should be thanking this family for finding him.
Another part of him wishes they never found him at all.
What is he going to do now? What can he do now? He’s a castaway with nowhere else to go. A refugee from across the sea. A stranger in a strange land…a leader with no one left to lead.
Ephemer stares down at the soup’s reflection, unable to find himself in the utterly defeated face staring back at him.
Feeling numb, he takes his spoon and stirs…making those tired eyes ripple away into nothingness.