Chapter Text
It was dark. Skuld didn’t think she could remember the last time it’d been so dark. It felt like a tangible thing—clammy and cold, crawling down her spine and sticking to her skin. There was a hissing sort of whisper, creeping through her ears and making her shiver. Almost words. Almost like something she knew. “Hello?”
The words were brittle, falling like shards of ice against the ground. She thought she might’ve heard a whisper back, and it made her skin prickle.
One hesitant step forward. Another. The sound was muffled, and she hugged herself almost instinctively, rubbing her arms to try and chase away the cold. “Who’s there?”
“…Skuld.”
The whisper came strained—a hissing, rattling thing that sounded like it was shaking bones, and her head snapped around at the sound of it. “Who—I can’t see you.” The voice sounded almost familiar, and it pricked at the back of her mind with a sense of foreboding. Her footsteps picked up in response, nearly stumbling over herself—
And then nearly stumbling over something else.
She froze. Her stomach rolled. Her chest constricted, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Don’t look, something in her whispered, even though a part of her knew, she knew, she knew what she was going to see because she’d—
Her head tilted, down and down and down, and—
Golden eyes. Familiar face, hat askew from the fighting. Chest split open, and—and some part of her said it shouldn’t look like that, but did it matter, when she could still feel his blood sticking to her fingers?
Her ears were ringing. Her throat was raw, and it took a moment for her to realize she was doing—something. Screaming, maybe. She backed away, hands clenched close to her chest, but it didn’t stop anything, because the blood caught underneath her fingernails and rubbed against her fingers—
“…uld. Skuld!”
She gasped, and it felt like she was drowning. Something was—something was holding her shoulders. Something was holding her shoulders, and she heard his voice, but he was dead, he was dead, she’d killed him, and—
She turned.
Golden eyes.
She screamed and thrashed, and Starlight sparked at her fingertips. She tripped over something—that couldn’t be another one, it couldn’t be, it couldn’t—and scrambled away, because Darkness was here and they were using her friend to fight her and she was going to have to kill him she was going to have to kill him and she couldn’t she couldn’t she couldn’t—
(You are never going to get the blood off your hands.)
“Skuld…? Skuld, what’s…?”
“Who’s—wait, shit, is that one of the Union Leaders?”
“Is everyone alright?”
There were people speaking. There were people speaking, and it rang like white noise, because all she could see were golden eyes and raised hands and a monster wearing her friend’s face.
“Stay back.”
Darkness froze, and she didn’t know why, because she couldn’t even get herself to summon her Keyblade (she couldn’t point it at him again she couldn’t the last time—).
(there was blood on her hands and he was so still and the wound wasn’t healing)
She was shaking. She was supposed to be doing something. She was—she needed to be—
…Where was she?
It was—dark. But. This didn’t—she didn’t think this was. The Clock Tower.
It felt, suddenly, like the world had turned on its axis. Like she had stepped out of one world, and into a very different one, where things weren’t quite the way she was used to.
(She still couldn’t breathe.)
“Okay.”
She snapped around. Those golden eyes still gleamed in the darkness, set into an expression of pained worry, and—and she didn’t think Darkness would look like that. “Okay,” he repeated, hands lifted like he was trying to calm a frightened animal. “I can do that.” He backed away a little, and crouched, and she had the half-hysterical thought that he was trying to make himself smaller. “This good?”
She couldn’t—she didn’t know what this was. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe.
“Skuld?”
“Alright—back off, all of you! Gawking isn’t helping.” A familiar figure shoved their way through the crowd, and Skuld wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or ashamed. Meili. They paused for only a moment, eyes flicking between her and Brain before stepping in front of her line of sight. “Do you know where we are, kid?”
No, she wanted to say, but couldn’t, because the word got stuck in her throat and she still couldn’t breathe—
“Alright. Hey. Watch me. Match your breaths to mine.”
Her eyes snapped toward Meili, and she watched as they inhaled. She tried to copy, and it stuttered, and then stuttered again, and she finally got out, “I-I can’t.”
“Take your time, kid. We’ve got all night.”
And so she tried again, and again, and instead of evening out her breathing cracked into stuttering sobs. She fell backward, the ground hard and cold, and hugged her arms across her chest.
Meili’s breath hissed through their teeth. “Shit. Alright.”
“Wh-where—where—?”
“Off-world. Old castle we found to stay in while Scala’s being rebuilt.”
“N-no. Brain—where—?”
“Right here.”
She couldn’t see him, but she could hear his voice, and she closed her eyes and felt the way something shuddered behind her teeth. “You’re alive,” she breathed. “You’re alive, you’re okay—”
“I’m okay,” he agreed. “I’m right here.”
Skuld nodded, one hand threading through her hair. She still felt shaky and disoriented and bad, some sick thing curdling in her chest.
“…Do you want to be somewhere else?” Meili asked.
She nodded again.
“Can you walk?”
It felt like a silly question, because of course she could walk, if she’d fought through—
But then the thought stuttered and died, and she found she couldn’t get her feet underneath her at all.
“…Alright. Next question: are you alright with people touching you?”
She didn’t know. She didn’t know, but Starlight wasn’t humming at her fingertips anymore, and she didn’t think she could be here, so she nodded, and didn’t protest as Meili scooped her into their arms.
“W-wait!”
She scrabbled a little at their shirt as they stood, twisting so she could look behind them—to Brain, still there and whole and alive—
Golden eyes still watching.
She felt like she was going to be sick (she was in the Clock Tower she was fighting Darkness she was watching her friend die because of her), so she turned away, pressing her head against Meili’s chest. “Y-you’re—I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean—stay. Please.”
She thought she heard something that sounded like a shuddering breath. “Okay. I’ll—be right behind you.”
~*~
-Meili took them away from the crowd—down long abandoned hallways, the noise and the stares fading away behind them.
“Wonder what this used to be,” Brain mused aloud, the words sticky with discomfort on his tongue. “Guessing you’ll probably want to explore, when you feel up to it.”
Skuld didn’t answer—but then, he hadn’t expected her to. It wasn’t really why he was talking, anyways.
“Heard some people speculating that it might’ve belonged to Keyblade wielders, once. Don’t know how that’d work—would’ve thought everything would’ve stayed with Daybreak Town. I don’t remember any castles, anyways—unless it was from somewhere else? Maybe we’ll have to look into that a bit…”
He let himself ramble, filling the empty halls with noise, and hoped that it did something more than stave off the guilt sitting thick in his chest.
“…Here.” Carefully, Meili shifted to nudge a door open with their shoulder. The room was small, but empty, and Meili settled Skuld down carefully. “I’m going to hunt down some pillows and blankets and get you guys set up here for the night.”
They started to move, and Skuld’s fingers caught in their shirt, curling tight.
Brain felt his throat tighten.
Meili settled a little, kneeling. “Do you want me to stay for a little while first?”
Brain started, “I can go—”
“No.” Skuld’s expression twisted with panic, but she could look at him only briefly before she turned away. “No, just—I can’t—”
Meili breathed out a slow breath that couldn’t quite be classified as a sigh. “Alright, kid. We can get things later.”
They settled. After a moment, so did Brain, twisting so that his back was to Skuld, but he was still close enough to touch, if she wanted. A heartbeat later she leaned against him.
…She was still shaking.
Brain forced his breathing to remain steady, tilting his head backward. This is my fault. Now that they were here—now that he had nothing to distract himself with—the thought came unbidden, as sharp and painful as the scar on his chest. He closed his eyes and counted slowly, timing his breathing to it. He couldn’t make this worse. Not after—everything.
Nobody said anything for a while. Slowly, slowly, Skuld’s shaking stopped, and her breathing eased. Brain stayed carefully still, only moving his eyes when Meili sighed into the silence. “I’m guessing it’s safe to go and get stuff now that she’s asleep.”
“You staying?”
He almost regretted the words, eyes darting away when Meili looked at him. “After,” he clarified. “Not sure it’d be a good idea for the two of us to be the only ones here.”
(It didn’t used to be like this, he thought, the words bitter on his tongue. In the earliest days, they’d found more comfort spending time with each other than anyone else. Now—
Now.)
“…Yeah,” Meili agreed quietly, and Brain tried not to wince, because he knew, but—still. “I’ll see if I can get Kvasir and Mimir to come.” They paused, squinting suspiciously. “If they aren’t already at the doorway.”
There was a quiet squeak of alarm, and the sound of panicked shuffling, and Brain huffed a quiet laugh. “You can come in, you know.”
A pause, and then the door creaked open. Kvasir looked sheepish, smiling and waving awkwardly. “We just—happened to be going in this direction?”
Mimir looked equally embarrassed, but they seemed less willing to hang back than Kvasir, ducking their head and pushing past him, ignoring his yelp of alarm. They made their way pointedly toward the two of them, and hesitated only a moment before settling on Skuld’s other side.
Meili looked mildly exasperated, but just sighed and shook their head as they stood. “I’ll be back. Try not to get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”
“How much trouble could we get in?” Kvasir asked.
“Do I need to answer that.”
It drew another quiet laugh, but this one felt bitter, and Brain could feel Meili’s eyes on him. He refused to look, attention pinned on the far side of the room until they’d left.
Fabric rustled. Kvasir settled just barely in his line of sight. “How is she?”
“Think you can see.” He lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug, then winced a little as he felt Skuld shift.
“Nightmare?”
“Probably.” Brain rubbed a thumb underneath an eye. “Pretty sure she was back at the Clock Tower.”
“You don’t know that.”
“She couldn’t look at me, but was terrified I’d leave her.” He could hear the twinge of anger and bitterness twisting through his voice, and didn’t think he could stop it if he wanted to. “Feel like there’d be a pretty fucking obvious reason for that.”
Kvasir went quiet, but his expression looked broken, like he wasn’t quite sure what he should be saying.
Mimir shifted, the sound of their clothes brushing against the floor, and Brain could hear them take a shaky inhale. They didn’t say anything, though, and Brain didn’t shift to see if they were signing something, in case he woke Skuld.
Kvasir moved after a moment, twisting so that he could settle near Brain, one foot knocking lightly against his. “She’ll be okay,” he said, and it sounded like he was making an effort to inject some levity into his voice. “It’ll just take a little bit of time.”
(He thought of when Daybreak Town had fallen. He thought of the nightmares and grief and anger, still present even months after she’d arrived. He thought of himself, so overwhelmed with guilt over everything that it’d led him to—)
“…Right.”
~*~
-“You will be given your own room.” Frigga looked at her in a way that seemed sympathetic, and Skuld almost wished she wouldn’t. “Only one, unfortunately—we can’t spare—”
“That’s fine,” Skuld said, sharper than she meant to, and she forced herself to breathe and splayed her fingers like it would steady her. I don’t think I could handle being separated, anyway. The words stuck on her tongue.
(An exception. Because they were Union Leaders. Because Frigga didn’t want more people to see them like that—scared and fragile—and maybe that was due to worry about what it’ll do to the shaken citizens or what sort of image they’re presenting or even what it’ll do to them—
But it was still an exception, and Skuld hated it.)
(…She could feel Brain watching her.)
The silence had lasted a little too long, but Skuld didn’t know how to fill it. Neither did Frigga, apparently, though she took it with better grace, lifting her head and clearing her throat. “Go see Bryn. She will help you find your quarters.”
Skuld nodded curtly and left, Brain a shadow trailing behind her. Her fingers flexed, nails making pinprick marks in her palms.
(People were staring. She could feel their eyes, tracking her across the halls, their whispers growing quiet as she approached. She wanted to duck away and hide.)
(If they kept looking, would they know? That she’d—)
“…Do you want me to sleep somewhere else?”
She couldn’t even entirely register the words before she’d frozen, biting out a panicked, sharp, “No.”
Brain hissed quietly, and it took a moment to register that she’d grabbed him, gripping his arm so tightly that she left small indents in his skin.
She let go just as quickly, and sucked in a shuddering breath. It did nothing to steady her, but her voice was a little calmer as she added, “No. I don’t—I wasn’t upset about you. I was—” Upset about getting a room at all. It sounded dumb, perched on the tip of her tongue, and she let the words die. (Who complained about getting special treatment? She should be grateful.
But—)
“Nobody was supposed to get a room until we find out who can go back,” she said instead. “That’s what Meili said. Once we’d assessed the damage and could figure out what places could be salvaged and what couldn’t, we’d figure out the housing situation and sort people into rooms here and—”
“Skuld.”
“— and just because I couldn’t—”
“Skuld.” The hand that landed on her shoulder was gentle, but it was enough to break her out of her ramble, anyways. It was easier to look him in the eyes, with the morning warmth chasing away some of the previous night’s specters, still clinging like wisps to her shoulders. He had a crooked, self-depreciating sort of smile on his face. “Don’t really need two of us like this.” He gestured vaguely at his eyes, and she tried to manage a laugh and just exhaled a shaky sigh.
(Right. Of course he’d have an idea of what was going through her head; he’d been there.
If you’d paid attention like that—)
She scrubbed at her eyes, trying to blink away the stinging.
“…It was a bad night,” Brain said, quiet.
“Yeah.” The word came out shaky, and she took a breath and tried to collect herself. It felt…easier, when the shadows weren’t pressing so close to her. Not easy, but. Easier. “We should—we should get going.”
Brain was giving her a look she didn’t know how to interpret, but all he said was, “Right.”
A turn on her heel, and they were off again, Skuld’s shoulders pulled back and her head up.
There were a couple of areas that people tended to congregate. The big, open room that the medics had commandeered for a medical station—blessedly starting to empty now, but still busy enough to fill the space with noise. The courtyard, cracked and broken though it was; she guessed it was mostly for the wide, open areas and fresh air, making it easier to play games or just relax and breathe. And the halls and rooms near the kitchen—or, at least, what people had turned into a kitchen. She decided to start there; Bryn very well may be out working already, but if she wasn’t, and they were lucky, they could catch her before she’d left with her food.
Bryn wasn’t the only one they could find there, of course; the area was packed, the crowd thick with noise, and Skuld stalled, hesitating in the wake of a potential audience. But no one had looked their way yet—too involved in their own business to notice two more people among many—and after a moment Skuld was able to gather her courage and start to weave through.
The effect was…slow. Someone turned their way, looking like they were about to say something, and then went…quiet. Their companion noticed. “Dude, what’s—oh.” There was a look on their face that she didn’t understand, and she turned away.
The silence trailed after them, people growing quiet one by one, until the wall of sound had fallen away into a hush. It made Skuld’s skin prickle, her eyes accidentally locking with others’ occasionally, and she tugged them away. We just—need to find Bryn. That’s all.
A shock of white hair flashed in her peripherals, and she turned toward it almost reflexively.
A small group of people huddled in a corner. It took a moment for her to truly recognize that they were bluebloods; they looked more disheveled than she was used to seeing them, the crowd giving them a conspicuous berth. They were staring, tracking her and Brain, and Skuld found she couldn’t pull her eyes away.
“Skuld! Brain!”
The shout came from somewhere on her right, and at a nudge from Brain, she very carefully managed to pry her attention away.
Kvasir and Mimir were hurrying toward them, pushing their way through the silent crowd, making them slightly less silent in their haste. “How’d it go?” Kvasir asked, breathless, an openly worried look on his face.
“Okay,” Skuld said, quiet.
“We’re being given a room,” Brain said dryly, and she wanted to tell him not to, because they were already getting weird looks, but—well. It was true, wasn’t it? She doubted it’d stay a secret forever.
“We need to find Bryn,” she added, because she didn’t think she could stand being stuck in the middle of the crowd much longer. “Do you know…?”
“Ah—I think she was talking to some of the kitchen staff.”
Kvasir turned and led the way, and the crowd silently parted around them. Tension bled away as Skuld finally stepped free of them, a wash of cold air making her light-headed.
Someone grabbed her hand and squeezed it—Mimir, she realized after a startled moment, giving her a tiny smile. She smiled back, and tried not to feel too embarrassed.
(It all felt so…silly, now that it was day time. Brain was here; Darkness was gone; the worst was over. It was fine.)
(She wished she could do last night over.)
Bryn was exactly where Kvasir said she’d be; Skuld could just hear her finishing a conversation:
“…shore up some more areas for storage.”
“Thanks, Bryn. If you see Meili, send them my way, too; I need to talk to them about going out for more supplies.”
“Will do.” Bryn turned away, her eyes briefly glossing over them before they pivoted back, widening in surprise.
Kvasir waved. “Hello, Master Bryn!”
“Union Leaders—and friends.” Her surprise vanished quickly, replaced with something more businesslike. “Can I help you with something?”
“Brain and Skuld need a place to stay.”
“Master Frigga said we should talk to you about a room,” Skuld hurried to add when Bryn gave them a curious look. Did Frigga even tell her? “Because of—because of last night.”
She could feel her face heating, but Bryn’s expression softened in understanding. “Well. It won’t be anything exciting, but I think we can arrange something. Just give me a little bit to get things ready.”
~*~
-Bryn hadn’t been kidding; the room they got was a small, empty thing made of stone. It seemed sturdy enough—cleaned out and secured, Skuld guessed, by Bryn’s team, though some of it was a bit hastily done. A window opened toward a wide, rolling field, a breeze flowing through it. There were a couple of pillows and blankets, but beyond that, it was empty.
…It was pretty far away from some of the more populated areas. She wondered if that was an intentional decision.
Skuld’s hands trailed along the walls. It felt…strange, to be in another unfamiliar place, with nothing to call her own. Like arriving in Scala for the first time, all over again. But this’ll be—the last time, she reminded herself, curling her fingers and breathing in deeply. Darkness is gone. We just—need to get Scala fixed up again.
Brain lifted a pillow, looking dryly amused. “The perks of being a Union Leader,” he said when he saw her looking, tilting the pillow her way.
It somehow managed to tug a smile out of her. “Brain—”
“What? We’re getting the luxury treatment.”
It was only half a joke, and she sobered a little because of it. We still…don’t have a lot of supplies to go around.
She started out of her thoughts when the pillow hit her face. She scrambled to catch it, dragging it down to half-heartedly glare at Brain.
His lips twitched toward a smile. “Looked like you were thinking too hard.”
“You don’t get to talk about that,” Skuld said, throwing the pillow back at him, and he caught it with a snort.
Both of them fell quiet. It was…hard to think of what to say, standing there in that empty room, in a castle far away from any home they’d ever known.
“…Want to go find something else to do?”
“…Yeah.”
~*~
-It should’ve been easier, when it was just them. That’s the way it’d been ever since they’d arrived in Scala ad Caelum. It should’ve been easier.
It wasn’t.
Skuld closed her eyes and counted very, very slowly. She was trying so, so hard not to let Brain see her shaking—her fingers had curled into her pant legs, gripping them so tight that they hurt—but she could almost feel him staring at her.
(It was worse, when it was dark. In the daytime, it’d been easy. At night, it felt like the shadows were creeping over her shoulders and the cold sunk into her bones, and all she could see when she looked at him were those eyes—)
(She wished Frigga hadn’t given them a room, so that it didn’t have to be just them, and she could maybe pretend that her friend’s eyes didn’t bother her. She was grateful that she had, because then no one else could see them, and no one else would know.
…She didn’t know how she felt.)
“Skuld—”
“Don’t.” The word came out sharper than she intended, and she breathed out, slow and shaky. “Don’t,” she repeated, quieter. “I don’t—I want you to be here.”
(Do you? some part of her asked, because it’d be so much easier if she didn’t have to—
But the thought of him leaving made her stomach churn. She couldn’t lose him again. She couldn’t.)
With a conscious effort, she opened her eyes, and turned to look at her friend.
Brain wasn’t quite sitting on their makeshift bed. He was some distance away from it, watching carefully. She forced herself to meet his eyes for as long as she could, and then sharply turned away. “You—you don’t have to stay over there.”
“It’s fine.”
“You can’t sleep there all night.”
“Slept on worse.”
I know, she thought, because she’d seen some of the places where he’d fallen asleep in the Clock Tower, but that thought led to the reasons why, and it led to thoughts of what had happened here, and—
“Please.”
Silence for a couple heartbeats. And then, very slowly, Brain moved, carefully settling on the blankets next to her.
If she didn’t look at him, his presence felt…comforting. She just—couldn’t look.
(She was grateful his scar was hidden behind his shirt. She wasn’t sure what it’d do to her, if she had to look at it again.
He shouldn’t have done it. The thought came, bitter and hurt, and she tried to stuff it down. He should’ve just talked to us.)
(I should’ve tried harder. I shouldn’t have agreed.)
“Anything I can do?”
It hit a guilty thing in her chest, because she should be asking him that, not the other way around. But— “Just…talk? Please.” She swallowed tightly, and admitted, “It—it helps. Because it still sounds like you.” Not like Darkness, with layers upon layers of others’ voices—just her friend. It made it easier to—ground herself.
Brain hesitated a moment, then said, “Well—heard Kris and Eir talking about re-enrolling in classes the other day…”
The words washed over her, and Skuld tried to focus on them, and breathe, and not think about the shadows lurking around her. It almost made it feel like things were normal again.
Almost.
~*~
-“Alright. Arms up.”
Brain stretched, wincing a little as it tugged on his scar.
“How does that feel?”
“Alright.”
“No pain?”
“No. Just stiff.”
The medic made a hum of acknowledgment, writing something down in their notebook.
Brain tried not to sigh, lowering his arms to rest them in his lap. He supposed it was a good thing that they were checking in like this; it meant that they’d finally gotten enough people in the clear that they could circle back to cases like him—people who weren’t in danger, but who might need closer examinations to deal with the injuries they’d received during Scala’s fall. Still, he couldn’t help being vaguely frustrated that they seemed to track him down every day.
(You died, some part of him pointed out. They might not know everything, but they know you should be dead. Of course they’re going to want to check in.)
He reached up to rub the scar almost absently. It was hidden now, invisible beneath his shirt, but he could still feel it, fingers tracing the raised line along his chest.
Rustling and awkward movement. Brain’s eyes flicked to where Skuld was sitting—perched a short distance away, hands wrapped around the edge of a table and a complicated expression on her face. ‘I’m alright,’ he mouthed, and she offered a tentative smile in response.
“Okay.” The medic’s voice drew his attention; they tapped the edge of their notebook idly, frowning in thought. “I’d like to see what you can handle, activity-wise.” They looked up and gave him a rueful smile. “Do you think you’re up for sparring?”
“With—?” Skuld started, and stopped, expression pinching.
“Probably depends on who it’s with,” Brain added quickly, because stars, he could imagine just how badly it’d go if Skuld had to fight him again.
The medic’s eyebrows furrowed a moment before the realization seemed to click, and they waved their hands, hurrying to say, “No, no, not with Master Skuld! It’ll be easier if I can examine you two separately.”
Brain could feel himself relaxing, just a little. “Alright.” He hopped up, and Master’s Defender appeared with a flick of his wrist.
The medic’s attention went to the Keyblade, something unreadable in their expression, before they turned and went to call someone over.
Skuld wasn’t looking at him; she was staring pointedly at the ground, looking a little like she wanted to be sick.
“…Do you want to leave?”
A beat, and then she shook her head, silent.
It didn’t exactly fill Brain with confidence, but he didn’t have much time to dwell on it.
…Maybe that was for the best.
“Alright,” the medic was saying, another wielder trailing after them. “We’re going to take this nice and slow. Pay attention to how you’re feeling; if things hurt or you start to get tired, you stop. Got it?”
“Got it.” He tipped his head to the other wielder.
They smiled, tight. “Hello, Master Brain. It’s good to officially meet you.” Their Keyblade appeared in a flash, and they settled into a stance, gesturing slightly for Brain to make the first move.
Well. He wasn’t going to protest. So he lunged, Keyblade cracking against theirs with a clang!
It was painfully slow going. They exchanged carefully telegraphed blows, back and forth, with the medic calling out questions and Brain answering as clearly as he could:
“Just a little stiff; nothing hurts.”
“Still breathing fine.”
“Movement felt a bit awkward, there.”
Gradually, the medic had them increase their speed, and Brain found himself slipping into familiar patterns. His chest still felt a bit tight, and he found himself out of breath a bit quicker than he would’ve liked—but then, there was no fear. No panic, or guilt, or memories. Just a normal spar.
…It was something, at least.
“Alright, that’s enough.”
Brain slowed, and took a moment to catch his breath, the world swimming just a little bit.
…Skuld still wasn’t watching.
“How do you feel?” the medic asked, dismissing the other wielder and trotting over. (And if the wielder paused to give the Union Leaders an uncertain look—well. He wasn’t going to worry about it.)
“A little winded—nothing serious.” It came out more breathless than he would’ve liked, but he tried not to think about it.
“Mm.” The medic reached for his wrist, eyebrows furrowed as they checked his pulse. “Anything else?”
“…Chest’s a bit tighter than normal.”
(In his peripherals, he thought he could see Skuld flinch.)
The medic released him, a small Aero spell flickering in their hand. “Breathe.”
He obeyed, and coughed, the cold sting of the spell hitting the back of his throat.
The medic jotted down a couple of additional notes, looking pensive, then after a moment nodded to themself and gestured for him to follow. He settled into a chair near Skuld, nudging her knee gently and giving her a look that he hoped conveyed, Are you alright?
She looked back and gave him a shaky smile that said she wasn’t, but she was trying to be.
“Okay,” the medic said, drawing his attention. “I’ve got a couple of stretches for you—do them every morning. That should help with the stiffness.” They passed him a paper, and Skuld leaned a little closer to look at it with him. “I want to see you back here every week so that we can get a better idea of your exercise tolerance—and to see if we need to adjust anything. Otherwise, keep taking it easy—no fighting Heartless, no sparring with friends, no working yourself too hard.”
It at least got a snort of laughter out of Skuld, and this time he did sigh. “Got it.”
The medic’s lips quirked toward a smile. “Your turn,” they said, pivoting toward Skuld, and her laughter turned to something shaky as she shoved herself off the table. “I want to see how your magic’s rebounding.”
They moved her out—back toward where Brain had sparred—and he watched from a distance, throat tight, as they cupped her hands, ordering, “Just a simple Fire spell—small.”
There was a tightness in his chest that had nothing to do with his injuries as the seconds passed, Skuld’s eyes squeezed shut and sweat beading on her face. (This is your fault, something in him whispered. Everything that happened—you should’ve—
Stop.)
Finally, finally, a flame flickered into existence, and Brain breathed out slowly.
“I see the medics tracked you down, as well.”
Brain wasn’t sure how he felt about hearing the familiar voice, but he shifted just slightly so that he could see the Head of the Council. “Frigga.”
Frigga wasn’t looking at him; she was looking at Skuld, something unreadable in her expression. “How is she?”
Brain eyed her a moment, then shifted to follow her gaze. “…Coping.” He paused, then added, “Might be better to ask her that.”
“Mm. And you?”
He shrugged. “Alive.”
There was a long, awkward pause, filled only by the distant babble of the medic and Skuld’s clipped answers. After a second, Frigga sat, lowering herself into a chair some distance away from Brain, crutches placed between them like a barrier.
“…Healing is rarely easy.”
Despite himself, Brain snorted a sardonic laugh. “You going to give out words of wisdom now?”
It probably wasn’t entirely fair; she had helped them, in the end, and was still doing her best to manage everything after Scala’s fall. But—well. It was hard to forget what things were like before.
Frigga, for her part, didn’t seem bothered; if anything, there seemed to be an understanding sort of expression on her face. “They seemed like they might be needed,” she said, “though I’m sure Meili could tell you much the same thing.” She went quiet for a moment—and then she continued, soft, “Death is…a difficult thing to grapple with. Master Skuld may have been able to undo things—but that will not likely make the aftermath any easier.”
Brain clasped his hands together, biting down on the words he wanted to say. I should’ve done better. I knew it would hurt—and I did it anyway. Maybe it’d be better if I wasn’t—
He cut off the thought, and breathed it out, slow and steady. We’re not doing this again. He looked toward Skuld; it seemed like she was getting instructions, too, based on the medic’s rapid-fire responses. “I know,” he said, finally—and then lifted the paper in his hand, saying ruefully, “Got some stretches I have to do. Those should be fun.”
“That is not what I meant, Master Brain—and I think you know that.”
“Course.” He watched as Skuld and the medic turned back toward them, and added, “That’s not entirely what I meant, either.”
He could feel Frigga’s curious look, but she didn’t get the opportunity to press, because the medic’s eyes landed on her and brightened. “Master Frigga! Good—I wanted to go over mobility aids with you. Our options are a little limited right now, but…”
“So what’s the verdict?” Brain asked, tuning the medic out.
“My magic’s coming back a bit slower than they thought it would.” She didn’t sound happy about it, and slumped down beside him, running her hands over her face. “They want me to avoid using any for a while.”
“Suppose that’d make sense; it’d give things a chance to build back up again.”
Skuld made a noise that sounded more frustrated than anything, and Brain nudged her lightly. “Things’ll work out.”
“I know.” I just wish they’d work out faster, went unspoken.
Brain wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that part, so he didn’t. He gave a glance to the medic—still talking to Frigga, and seemingly oblivious to the Union Leaders waiting nearby. “Think we can escape?”
“We’re probably supposed to stay until they tell us.” But Skuld’s lips had quirked toward a smile, and Brain took that as an opportunity to stand and reach for his jacket.
“Sit back down.”
Brain bit back a groan. Damn it.
He had no idea Meili had even been nearby. They pulled out a chair, turning it to face them, and sat down in it. They looked…tired.
(He guessed that wasn’t surprising. The Exploration Department had their work cut out for them; teams had been off-world almost constantly, gathering supplies from Scala’s wreckage, trying to barter with other worlds, and assessing what areas of Scala were safe and what weren’t. It was—probably a lot to manage.)
“We were almost done?” Skuld tried.
Brain slumped back into his chair.
Meili gave him an unimpressed look, but seemed to decide not to comment on it.
“How’s everyone in the Exploration Department doing?” Skuld asked before Meili could get the chance to say anything else.
Meili eyed her a moment, then said, “Busy and tired, but managing. We’re rotating teams out to try to keep people from getting overworked.”
“How’s that been going?” Brain asked.
“As well as it can be. It helps that we have Trade and Infrastructure to share the work.” They rubbed their forehead with a sigh. “Thank the stars we didn’t lose the department heads for them. It’d be a mess trying to get someone new in with everything else that’s going on.”
Right. That. Research, Finance, and Travel still didn’t have anyone to manage them, as far as Brain was aware. He thought about asking about them, but Meili was continuing before he had the chance.
“Bryn and I have a mixed team heading out to Scala later. We’re hoping to get some of the actual restoration work started, now that we’ve figured out what’s most stable. Which brings me to why I’m here.”
“Yes,” Skuld said, so quick she almost spoke over Meili. “Yes, I want to go.”
“Everything’s been cleared with the medic?”
“Technically we were cleared weeks ago,” Brain said dryly.
“You know what I mean, kid.”
“There isn’t anything that’d stop me from helping,” Skuld answered. She paused, then added, “I just—can’t use magic. Right now.”
“Alright. Noted.” They turned to Brain. “Your turn.”
He…hesitated. Going back to Scala…it’d be something to do. He could team up with Skuld, maybe; use magic wherever she needed it. But—
(He could remember wandering the streets, untethered and uncertain, trying to find pieces of anything that looked familiar in this place that wanted to masquerade as a home.)
(He could remember when going out had felt dangerous, because there were people after them, and he didn’t dare let his guard down; it hadn’t been all that long ago, after all.)
(He could still see Darkness, spiraling over the Clock Tower, and Skuld’s terrified face, as she found them up there.)
“Brain?” Skuld asked, quiet.
“I—think I’m going to pass this time.”
Skuld’s expression was pinched.
Meili didn’t press. “Alright, kid. Maybe it’d do you some good to actually get some rest.”
“Brain—” Skuld started again, but broke off when he nudged her, offering a small smile.
“Relax. I’m fine.” He paused, searching for something to use for an explanation, and hit on one after only a moment. “Been wanting to look more closely at the black box, anyways. See if I can get any idea for getting everyone out.”
Skuld didn’t look entirely convinced, but she nodded, anyways.
Meili sighed. “Or not.”
“Well, if you wanted, I could find other projects—”
“No.” They looked like they might’ve wanted to say more, then gave up, rubbing their forehead with a tired sigh. “We’ll be heading out in a few hours,” they told Skuld. “Meet us in the courtyard.”
Skuld nodded, and Brain tried not to think about why she suddenly looked so uncertain.
~*~
-He’ll be fine. Skuld took a deep breath, splaying her fingers against her pants. I’m just—being silly.
It, unfortunately, did nothing to soothe her frayed nerves, and she cast about, looking for something to occupy her thoughts.
This area of Scala—like most of them—was still something of a mess. The streets were cracked, though thankfully there wasn’t anything too unstable. None of the buildings around this area were fully intact; there was one that was half-standing, the roof and part of one of the walls caved in, but the rest had been reduced to rubble. In the distance, though, she could hear people calling to each other; just on the edge of her vision, people were working to clear debris, scavenging for any usable supplies. Skuld surveyed the crew a moment, then marched toward the nearest pile. A blanket half-poked out from beneath some wooden boards; she reached for it, tugging distractedly.
He’ll be fine. Nothing’s going to happen while I’m gone. He’ll be fine.
She didn’t know why she was so worried. Brain had always been fine, and he was surrounded by other people, and—and the worst was over. It was safe.
(But she could still remember assassins stalking them and having to be wary of the bluebloods and she’d thought he was fine before and he’d still died—)
There was a sound of tearing fabric, and before she’d really realized what had happened, she was tumbling backward with a vague noise of alarm.
“Hey, be careful!” someone shouted.
Arms caught her. “You alright?”
The blanket was torn now. Part of it was still grasped in her hand; the other half waved in the faint breeze, stuck beneath the boards. Skuld tried to ignore the taste of bile in her mouth. “I’m fine.”
The other worker released her; they had a peculiar look on their face when she turned toward them, somewhere between worried and confused. Skuld didn’t know what to make of it.
“Hey!” That voice again, and it finally dawned on Skuld that it was directed at her. She turned slowly, and saw someone marching toward them, practically steaming. “You need to be more careful; we could’ve used—that…” He trailed off, eyes flicking over her, and blanched.
Skuld’s hands balled into fists. “I’m—sorry.”
“Dude, just—lay off.” The person who’d helped her said, that uncertain look never leaving their face. They slipped past her, ushering the other worker away; as they did, she could hear their hissed conversation:
“Look, I know she’s a Union Leader, but that doesn’t mean—”
“That’s not—she’s a kid.”
She didn’t know what to make of it, beyond that it made her stomach churn and her hands feel clammy, so instead she marched back through the rubble and decided to make her way to—to somewhere else.
She didn’t know if it was better that Scala was filled with noise instead of eerily quiet. Maybe better, she thought, and tried to ignore the way her skin felt like it was prickling. At least it feels a little more like it’s alive.
But it didn’t stop the fact that she felt like she was straining to hear if danger was coming, or that Starlight felt like it was always half a heartbeat away from being summoned, or that she picked her way across the ground near-silently and found herself checking for yellow eyes around every corner. She took another steadying breath, and forced herself to look beyond that—to the people wandering through the wreckage, fishing for supplies they could use or carefully helping to clear away debris. Several called jokes to each other as they worked. It’s not going to get worse, she reminded herself. This is a new start; we’re—
Her eyes locked on a familiar building and froze.
The café was barely recognizable; she only really knew it from its sign, battered though it was, hanging half-broken from the remains. Heart clenching with unexpected grief, she twisted her head, tracking down the streets until—
There.
Her feet moved almost mechanically. It felt a little like she was untethered, a strange, weightless feeling making everything seem just a little less—present. Too quickly and too slowly, she found herself standing in the remains of a familiar apartment building.
It wasn’t recognizable at all, really; she only knew what it was from the location. The remains of it were scattered across the street. She picked through it, feet crunching across debris, and skirted very carefully around the larger piles. She wasn’t sure she could pick out anything familiar; they hadn’t had very much, and besides, it would’ve all been crushed, when the building fell.
…They really hadn’t been in the apartment that long. Not enough to make it a home. But—
Her arms shaking and eyes stinging, she turned and ran.
She found Meili in a cleared-out area between some of the buildings. They were talking to a small team of people she didn’t recognize—from Bryn’s department, maybe. “I want to talk to Master Bryn first, but there are actually a decent few buildings that look mostly structurally stable,” one was saying. “Once we get things cleared out, we can probably get those reinforced.”
“How many from my team do you think you’ll need?” Meili asked.
“Probably not many; we just need people to clear…” The worker trailed off, eyes darting beyond Meili to Skuld.
They turned, following the worker’s gaze, and their eyebrows lifted when they saw her. “Skuld.”
“I want to go back.” She couldn’t quite look at Meili, embarrassment burning in her throat, but it felt like something was creeping along her skin and filling her chest and it was—too much.
Silence, for a moment; after a beat, the sound of retreating footsteps, and Meili shifting in her direction. “Do you want to talk about what happened, kid?”
She shook her head. “I just—need to get back.”
A pause. “Alright. We’ll take this slowly.” Quieter, they added, “I appreciate you giving me a head’s up instead of just disappearing.”
Skuld nodded. Starlight appeared with a flick of her wrist, and she opened a portal almost without thinking, stepping through it quickly so she didn’t have the chance to worry about it more. Only once she was through—once nobody could see her anymore—did she lean back against the crumbling castle walls and rub her hands across her face and just try to breathe.
It’s going to be okay. The worst of it’s over. We’re rebuilding. It’s going to be okay.
(So why does it still feel so hard?)
~*~
-There weren’t many places to safely hide away items here. People were ushered away from some of the more dangerous areas—the ones that Bryn’s team still needed to stabilize—but for the most part, everyone was allowed free reign of the castle. Certain rooms were locked—“We don’t want to risk supplies getting stolen or damaged,” Frigga had said—but they weren’t anything that a Keyblade wielder couldn’t get into, if need be, and that was assuming the rooms still had doors at all.
It meant it had been hard to find a good place to stash the black box.
Initially, Brain had gotten Meili to keep the thing with them. Now that he and Skuld had their own room, though…
With a careful nudge, Brain guided the box through the hallways. A Gravity spell had been enough to get it off the ground so that he didn’t have to drag it; it had gotten him some curious looks, but thankfully no one had actually stopped to ask him about it. He wasn’t sure if that was because he was a Union Leader or because of something they saw in his face. Maybe both. Still, it at least meant getting the box to their room was relatively uneventful, and he let it settle into a corner with a quiet thump.
One hand rested on top of it, trailing carefully over the patterns. The Dandelions, the Data Daybreak Town—they were here. Despite everything, they had actually made it out. Now it was just a matter of figuring out how to get them out of there.
Brain breathed out a shaky breath. No Darkness to worry about, now. We have time.
…If I can even figure out where to start.
If he had a computer system like Daybreak Town’s, maybe it wouldn’t be so difficult. He might be able to figure out how to connect it to the data version in the box—discover some way to sneak through, find the Dandelions and bring them back, pods or no. But if Scala had anything like that, it was buried beneath the rubble.
Another breath. No point worrying about that now.
…But there also wasn’t anything he could really do just sitting here.
He hesitated, one hand latched underneath the lip of the box. And then, with a conscious effort, he flipped the lid open.
A haze of static flickered across his skin and made it prickle. His hair stood just slightly on-end, and his vision blurred a bit. And then, slowly, things started to solidify, and—
It felt like something had reached into his chest and squeezed.
Daybreak Town looked exactly like he remembered it. The brightly-colored cobblestones and rooftops. The carefully-maintained gardens and trees. The flicker of the rising sun, just edging over the horizon and painting the sky in blues and pinks and purples. He knew, if he followed this path, he would find a small bakery, run out of someone’s house. A little bit further there was a gift shop, mostly filled with things that the owner had picked up on their travels.
…It was also very, very quiet. No birdsong. No noise from wielders just getting up to start their days. No ticking of the Clock Tower, however distant, or burble from the fountain. It was, for all intents and purposes, a place frozen in time.
Brain took a moment to steady himself, taking a very careful breath in and out. And then he started moving, trailing through the empty streets.
It was almost…eerie. The Daybreak Town he knew had always been filled with life—even after the Keyblade War, when their numbers had been drastically reduced. Now it just seemed like a ghost town, the only noise a quiet buzzing that made his ears ache. His hands trailed along the walls, and he rubbed his fingers together, looking at them contemplatively. A glance through the windows said that no one was inside, everything carefully in place.
Cautious steps carried him through an empty town, peeking in windows and doors and searching through familiar corridors. And everywhere, he found the same thing: nothing. No sign of the Dandelions; just empty houses.
(He couldn’t quite bring himself to go to the Clock Tower.)
Finally, the buzzing, staticky feeling grew too oppressive—it pressed against his back, humming uncomfortably in his ears, and it made him feel like he needed to get out out out. He swept a hand through the image, and it cracked against something solid; he heard the slamming of something, and a sudden wash of cool air poured over his shoulders. He breathed, and when he blinked, he could still see the after-images of his old home.
He almost laughed. His eyes stung. Well, he thought sardonically, that was a productive start.
His ears still felt like they were buzzing—but, after a moment, he realized he could hear something that sounded a lot like his name. “Brain?”
“Skuld?”
He blinked, feeling a little disoriented as he came back to himself, and as his vision came into focus, he saw Skuld standing in the doorway, expression pinched with fear he didn’t quite understand.
“…Working on the box,” he said, slowly, and Skuld closed her eyes tight and nodded with a slow breath. “Everything go okay?”
“I—needed to come back.”
That got his attention, and he sat up a little straighter, shaking off what remained of his malaise. “Did something happen?”
“No, I just—needed to come back.” She came over and sat beside him, arms folding across the tops of her knees. She was shaking, he realized after a moment, and he frowned, wondering if he should press about what had happened.
“Did you figure anything out?” she asked before he could.
He eyed her a moment, then decided to drop it. She’ll tell me when she’s ready—I hope. “Not really,” he admitted. With a twinge of frustration, he added, “I couldn’t even find the Dandelions.”
“Do you think—” Skuld started, and then broke off, expression pinched.
“That something happened to them?” Brain finished. His lips curled into a wry smile. “Well—that’d be painfully ironic, given everything we went through to get this.” His hand rested on the box, and he thought he could feel Skuld flinch beside him. More gently, he added, “But no. The world just went to sleep; they should all be there. I’m just not sure where.” He braced his chin on his hand, tapping a finger against his cheek. “Deeper in the data, maybe—but I’d have to have something to help me dig into that…”
He trailed off, silently picking over his options. He could—find something off-world, maybe. He wasn’t sure how he’d get it; he supposed he’d have to work out the details later.
“…What if they’re gone?”
Brain blinked back to himself. “What?”
Skuld was looking at him with a troubled expression. “Brain. If they’re actually gone—are you…?”
She trailed off, and it dawned on him what, exactly, she was asking. “I’m not going anywhere this time,” he promised. “If they aren’t there—then that’s that.” It left a bitter feeling in his mouth—but there really wasn’t anything he could do, if he couldn’t find them. And—well. There was a limit to how far he was willing to go, after…everything.
Skuld didn’t look like she was entirely comforted, but her expression eased a little, and she gave him a small nod.
Brain glanced at the box, then patted it gently with a sigh. We have time. “Come on. If you’re back, we might as well see what the others are up to.”
“…Okay.”
~*~
-“What,” Brain asked, eyebrows raising, “is that?”
Kvasir—who’d been trying to figure out how to position a large, if damaged, painting in the dedicated “dining” area—turned and smiled at the question. “Art!”
Mimir—standing a short distance away—had a look that mirrored Brain’s. “He found it in Scala,” they signed.
“I can’t believe it’s in one piece! I thought most things like this probably would’ve been destroyed in the fall.”
Skuld tried to give him a smile, but she could feel it twitching a little, aware of the eyes on them.
Brain looked deeply unimpressed. “Weren’t you supposed to bring back useful things?”
“It is useful!”
“How?”
“Art,” Kvasir said, pausing and leaning forward, like he was letting them in on a secret, “brings joy.”
Brain, if anything, looked less amused.
Skuld took a breath and elbowed him, making a point of smiling and forcing some levity into her voice. “If you’d found a book, you would’ve brought it back.”
“That’s different.”
“Sure.”
Brain gave her a look, and after a moment seemed to relent a bit. “Alright. But people are going to yell at you for it.”
“They will be delighted,” Kvasir retorted, “because it’s something more exciting than a falling building.”
“Mm-hm. Pretty sure that came out of a blueblood’s house.”
Kvasir’s smile faltered, and Brain’s breath hissed between his teeth as he, apparently, realized that probably wasn’t the best thing to say.
“We can hide it in our room,” Skuld said quickly. “Just in case?”
Kvasir hesitated, then nodded, giving her a smile that looked a little forced. “Ah, yes. I suppose I don’t have anywhere to put it, otherwise. The—perks of having a room, I suppose.” He straightened, and said pointedly, “Food?”
Skuld exchanged a worried glance with Mimir.
Brain rubbed his forehead. “Shit. Kvasir—”
“No, no, you have a point.” Kvasir waved off what was likely an apology. “Most people—may not be entirely happy about something like that. Right now.”
Movement flickered in Skuld’s peripherals. She turned in time to see a shock of white hair disappearing around a corner.
“But ah—how are you, Skuld?”
She snapped around at the change in topic, and saw all three of her friends looking at her expectantly. It made her skin prickle, and she said, more curt than she intended, “I’m fine.”
Hesitantly, Mimir signed, “We heard Meili sent you back—”
“I asked to come back.” And suddenly she couldn’t look at any of them anymore. “I just—couldn’t be there.”
She didn’t think she could explain the ‘why’—the growing unease that kept tugging at her bones, building and building until she felt like she needed to get away—and so she didn’t, letting them stew in silence.
“…Ah. Well.” Kvasir seemed at a loss for words this time, and Skuld wished she knew how to fix it. “Maybe we should just—get food? It doesn’t help any of us to just stand around here.”
Skuld nodded, not quite sure what else to do.
They stepped into the kitchens, picking up some bowls of soup and retreating to sit near the painting. The area had, thankfully, become relatively empty. It made it feel a little less like she was being suffocated, even if the silence was starting to feel oppressive.
After a minute, Brain sighed. “So,” he said, turning to Kvasir, “what’s the painting of?”
Kvasir perked up a little. “Oh! One of my ancestors, I think—Master Ephemer’s great-great-grandson? There’s a legend about him slaying a massive Heartless that was terrorizing some newly-formed worlds.”
Skuld gave the painting a curious look. A white-haired man stood with his Keyblade raised, posed on top of something that kind of resembled a Heartless, all teeth and clawed limbs and glowing eyes. In the background, there were images of several worlds, bright and shining.
“I don’t know all of the stories behind the paintings,” Kvasir admitted, a little sheepish. “My—uncle liked to collect them, though.”
There was a strained sort of grief there, and Skuld shot him a worried look. He had a bittersweet sort of smile as he stared at the painting, and Skuld found herself murmuring, “It must’ve been nice to find something like this.” A piece of home—even if you can’t go back to the way things were.
Kvasir turned to her with a smile that looked a little more real. “It was. It’s a little damaged—but I think it’ll hold up alright.” He turned back to the painting. “I think when we get back to Scala, I’d like to hang it up in my own home.”
“If it’ll fit,” Mimir signed, a mischievous look on their face as Kvasir squawked in alarm. Skuld laughed; it was pretty large. It conjured a funny mental image of Kvasir trying to haul it back (mostly) on his own.
Brain raised an eyebrow; Skuld could guess the question he wanted to ask, but he stayed quiet.
Kvasir answered it, anyways. “I’m going to get my own apartment,” he said. “Hopefully. I don’t think—well. Even if any of the family homes are still standing—I’m not sure they’d want me.”
“Why not?” Skuld asked, sitting straighter. “Not everyone worked with Aegir.”
Kvasir’s expression twisted into something complicated, but he smoothed it out a moment later. “It’s alright! It gives me a chance to start over.” There was something a little more genuine in his face and voice as he added, “I think it’ll be nice, to be able to build a home of my own. I can put up other paintings with it, maybe—or sculptures!” He shrugged. “I’m not sure yet—but it’s nice to think about.”
Skuld’s throat tightened, and she tried not to think about the empty apartment, buried in the rubble. “Yeah.”
“I have to go back to school,” Mimir signed, and they looked so petulant that Skuld sputtered with laughter.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Brain said dryly, and Mimir gave him a very solemn look that made Skuld laugh harder.
“We can decorate your dorm room, though!” Kvasir said, his eyes brightening. “You could even have the painting!”
Mimir looked, for a moment, like they were experiencing all five stages of grief at once.
“Joking,” Kvasir clarified, and Mimir kicked him lightly.
~*~
-Mimir might’ve gotten out of dealing with the painting, but unfortunately Skuld and Brain didn’t—at least, for the time being. It’s for a friend, Skuld reminded herself. Still, she found herself tilting her head and squinting skeptically at the painting as it leaned against the wall. Brain, standing beside her, had nearly mirrored her position, though he looked significantly more skeptical. “…It doesn’t look that bad?” she offered.
“Sure.”
They stared at it some more.
“Do you want to put it…?”
“Behind the box? Yes.”
Skuld snorted with laughter, but went to move it.
(Despite herself, she found herself looking at their near-empty room, and thinking about the place they’d had, once, and the place they might have again, the conversation with Kvasir still ringing in her ears. Yeah, she thought, almost wistful. It’d be nice to try and build a home.)