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chronicbatfictioner · 4 years ago

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Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 12

It was decided then that the Talon - Dick Grayson - should accompany Jason to the Wayne Manor. The Oracle has decided that being the only one without 'attachment', i.e. normal people's identity that could be used against them.

The pretty little kitten's name, Jason eventually found out, was Tim Drake. And he would be providing one of the exit strategies. His home, apparently, was right next to the Wayne Manor. His words about knowing of losing parents through violence only made sense after Jason googled the name, and discovered the news article on the kidnapping and murder of Jack and Janet Drake, Tim's parents. It was apparently quite a news back then, only Jason never heard of it since he was already residing in Eth

He was right when he guessed - mostly through his manner and speech - that Tim Drake was rich. The Drake House - although smaller than the Wayne Manor - was still bigger than most homes in the suburbs that Jason knew of. Plus there was a massive yard, sky-high fence, several garages, a greenhouse, and a garden.

And then there were the tunnels.

Tim said that according to the Waynes' side of the architecture, the tunnels tend to lead to nowhere, and were not sturdy enough to be explored. Tim, however, had explored the tunnels when he was really little - as in ten-year-old 'little' and discovered that most were natural tunnels and have exits.

"I hope you've explored with someone who's like, my size." Jason reminded him just as they laid down the plans to him.

Tim glared at him top-to-bottom and then glared at Dick.

"Yeeeah... he's definitely not my size." Jason pointed out. Dick might have been muscular, but more on the lean side. Jason was built like a brick house and a few inches taller and wider than Dick.

"If it's any consolation, I didn't need to squeeze through anything when I went," Dick told him.

"I'll map the dimensions of the exits, anyway, just in case. We went with cameras back then." Tim said. "And now that we've covered the exits, how about the entrance? Would you rather walk right up there and say something along the line of, 'hey, I'm here to deliver the next Wayne heir. And by the way, you owed Talia Al Ghul some child support, but on the bright side, you won't need to pay 'em anymore,'?"

"Yeah, that sounded like a really quick way to get into an altercation." Jason retorted.

"I advise you, Tim, to take them there. Sort of like safety in numbers scenario - whatever happened, the Waynes won't be able to... make Jason and Damian 'disappear' because someone else already knew of their presence in Gotham." Barbara advised. "I've put the articles on stand-by, and shall have Vicky Vale start sniffing around by one week."

"We've got Grayson here as an extra pair of watchful eyes, so to speak. I don't think they'll do anything dramatic." Jason reminded. "Also, if they think they could kill me and take Damian just like that, they might be in for a surprise. Damian isn't... easily persuaded through blood and gore." He stopped short of accidentally revealing that the 'training' he and Damian returned from when they discovered the death of Ra's and Talia at the Algol Island had been Damian's 'training' in death and destruction. Colloquially referred to as the 'Year of the Blood', Damian was sent to retrieve a number of relics from around the world; most held in private collections by colonists who had acquired said relics from native people by force. Combine 'acquisition' and 'force', it was safe to reason that said 'colonists' would have had armies protecting the relic. And Damian had gone through them fairly easily.

And bloodily.

But that was not something Jason would reveal. It would be up to Damian's discretion - later or never - to tell his father. Surely he would not wish to have such thing revealed to a group of people calling themselves 'heroes'.

"I'm in favor of the more the merrier, really. In spite of me being the so-called 'extra' pair of eyes, Tim Drake has higher visibility when it comes to... well... the common people..." Dick remarked. "There might not need to be blood and gore in the immediate future. Plus, I'm not there as a Talon."

"You're there as Damian's guard, the White Ghost. Anyone familiar with the lores surrounding the Al Ghuls would not suspect a thing..." Jason started.

"Can I be the blue ghost, instead?" Dick wanted to know, grinning impishly.

Tim, too, was grinning impishly.

"What," Jason growled, suddenly realized that he was being played.

"I kinda liked blue better than white, y'know?" Dick replied.

"You're not taking this seriously, are you?"

"Oh, I am. I mean, there's a kid's life on the line; a lot more money than I'd ever seen if they were in the form of unpopped corn kernels; heritage; people of Gotham, etc, etc... why wouldn't I take this seriously?" Dick replied as he walked away from the table. "But I still think I look better in blue, right?" he added, pulling out a set of costumes from the cabinets. It was modeled after Jason's costume - "to have a more cohesive look between us," Dick had said. And it was in blue, whilst Jason's was in green.

He groaned exasperatedly. "There is no blue ghost in our ranks..."

"Well, they don't need to know that, do they?" Dick reasoned.

Jason glared at Tim for help. But the boy shrugged, "he's had that made since the day you came. He actually has several sets of those... He said your outfit made for pure awesome day clothes. I, too, worry about his fashion sense."

"Why." Jason partly wanted to know, partly wanted to know what the hell he'd done in the past that landed him with the Marx brothers right there. His costume would work well for the desert - where the Al Ghul's strongholds were mostly at; the jungle surrounding the Al Ghul Island where Damian and Talia would reside during the summer months; or in combat. For daily use, however, Jason would have worn normal suits. "For the love of all things mighty, you folks didn't look through my suitcase, did you?"

"Oh, we know of the suits. The normal people suits, don't worry. I have those made for Dick, too - in blue as per his insistence." Oracle intoned. "And no, Richard, you are not wearing costumes when you walk to the Waynes' front door."

Thank god for the voice of reason.

"Aww... buuuut, it will be more impressive!" Dick wailed, dead-set looked crestfallen, and gave puppy-dog eyes toward Oracle. Jason sighed again. For what seemed like the umpteenth time of the day.

"No means no, Dick. Now, if you'd come up straight from the desert and whatnot, that wouldn't be so strange. But you - and by 'you' I meant Jason and Damian - arrived in Gotham more than a week ago and stayed at the Ritz, 'fer cryin' out loud!" Oracle snapped back.

"Ritz this ain't, but I agree, if we've stayed at the Ritz, there would be questions as to why hasn't anyone seen us. My costume isn't exactly made for urban living." Jason pointed out. Dick was still sulking, but it looked like he - thankfully - finally conceded.

"Fine, I'll wear the monkey suits..." he grumbled. Jason mouthed a 'thank you' toward the projection.

"Okay! Next, backstory excluding the fact that... Talia and Ra's' being murdered and stuff - that what you're planning to say right, Jason?" Oracle continued, ignoring Dick's whines.

"Yes, there's no point in hiding it since Wayne would want to know who the mother was, and we have set out news stating Ra's and Talia Al Ghul being killed in an airplane crash," Jason told her.

"I've seen that news and marked all the news portals that mentioned them. I would like you two to keep an eye on Bane's reaction, as minute as they might be. Dick?"

"Got it. If he as much as breathe wrong in Damian's direction, we kill him." Dick replied. To Tim's and Jason's withering glare, he demanded, "what?"

"Why can't we just have Tim accompanying me, anyway?" Jason finally blurted. "He could jeopardize the whole thing."

"No, he's not. He's just pulling that one out of his ass. He's not gonna kill anybody, right Dick?" Oracle prompted. "Plus, it would be fairly odd if Tim Drake accompanies you, as he himself is quite a well-known individual within the city."

"Hhh... alright..." Jason still grumbled but decided to let it go for now. There were far more important objectives to be had.

"I much prefer Grayson to be with us as well, Jason." Damian suddenly piped up. He has been sitting there, at the head of the table, watching the processions. "With most adult's predisposition to undermine non-adults, Grayson's presence there could deter anyone from trying mischief right away." he reasoned. "Timothy, while I daresay have sufficient combat skills when required, has the benefit of being a public persona while being a child and thus would not come across as strange that I - as a child as well - should come to him first and foremost for assistance."

"Why, thanks, Damian. I think..." Tim replied.

"That is... quite an interesting psychological insight, and validated our plan, I think," Oracle remarked after a few seconds of silence. "Okay, gentlemen? Shall we get the plan rolling, then?"

"We shall," Damian replied. "I cannot wait to see how my father will react."

#Jason Todd #Tim Drake #JayTim #Red Ghost!jason #Stray!Tim #Talon!Dick #Damian Wayne #Damian Al-Ghul #Dick Grayson #Barbara Gordon #Oracle!Barbara #Batless!AU

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paperspell · 6 years ago

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Kingdom Hearts || Three Half Promises

Rating: Teens and up

@mimiplaysgames and @lyssala are both gifts to the fandom

Summary: A character study of Aqua and Terra from childhood to adulthood

Chapter 2: My name is Aqua | Names hold power

As Eraqus has promised, the first chime comes bright and early in time with the rising of the sun. She wakes up as a disorientated heap of blankets. While her new bed is the most comfortable she has ever experienced, the time difference has indeed taken its effect. She was so giddy and wound up last night that she slept very little, if at all.

She steps out of the bathroom just as Terra is walking past the hall. He winces at the timing but pays no further heed to her as she follows him downstairs to the dining hall for breakfast. It seems that Eraqus has already set up some options for them, but she can’t say she is familiar with eating any of it this early in the morning; a pot of cloudy soup, a large bowl of white rice, two grilled salmon and what appears to be a plate of rolled omelette. Terra picks up two small bowls and starts ladling soup in one and scooping rice in the other. With no clue in what else to do, she follows suit, only to feel his eyes shoot her a twinge of annoyance.

Throughout breakfast, he does not seem too eager to befriend her and ate opposite of her in silence. As she spoons her hot salty soup, wondering what to say, he polishes off his food and clears his side of the table just as fast. He speeds down the end of the dining hall towards the corridor and exits right as Eraqus rounds the corner.

The boy bows briefly to his Master and continues on his way without turning to look back.

“Like the earth itself he seems determined to search himself across all four corners of this world,” Eraqus sighs. He pulls out a chair and starts pouring tea for himself. “I do hope you find the food to your liking. Terra usually marches straight to the training grounds, so I never know.”

“It’s delicious,” she assures. Different maybe, but far better than cold oatmeal.

“That’s good to hear,” Eraqus says, smiling into his teacup. “Since it is your first day in this world, you are not expected to be thrown into training straightaway. Do you remember what we discussed last night? About getting to know oneself?”

“Yes sir,” she answers promptly.

“It is my personal belief that at the tender age both you and Terra are in, the strain of vigorous training need not befall you just yet. There will be studies and disciplining of the body, but for now I do encourage you both to indulge in other activities.”

“Um, but sir,” she says, fidgeting under his gaze, “isn’t Terra already training? I don’t mind starting right away either–”

“Ah, to have a rival. How marvelous, I have forgotten…” Eraqus puts down his cup. “It’s true the boy trains very hard, and given his earlier arrival, his knowledge of the worlds’ lore is greater. But, there is still an important element he lacks to proceed in becoming a Keyblade wielder. Would you like to guess what that is?”

It seems like one of those trick questions the teachers will occasionally ask children to see if they are paying attention. Shamefully, she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what is the correct answer. She shakes her head.

“Terra trains every day since he had arrived. I have seen the boy develop his own skills with small guidance of my own, yet he is no closer to producing the Key as he was on his first day. His swordplay, although rough, is rather good for his age. And so, with the ability to summon his own Keyblade, hone its power at an early age, will he not become more remarkable?”

At this point Eraqus is mumbling these thoughts, perhaps more for himself than to share with her. However, at the word Keyblade, she feels a leap of excitement, the handle of the blade ghosting on her hand again.

“You see, I figured somewhere down the line, there must be a balance, something more than training and studies of history’s past. Something close to the heart. Terra himself has daily matters to keep busy, and more importantly to discover some hidden truths about himself. In a way, this may be the first step in calling out the Keyblade.

“While I understand both of your eagerness to become warriors, the quickest way to obtain strength lies not with the pursuit of power. I think the best course of action for you is to adjust to the patterns of this world first and learn to trust in the rhythm of your heart. After all, power is born within the heart. When the time is right, you just need to look inside yourself and you will find it there.”

The poetry of his words rings in her ears. She tries not to envision the boys back at Radiant Garden. They would probably be indignant if they find out she isn’t already on track with being the greatest warrior ever. She smiles at the thought, finishing the last bits of omelette.

Once breakfast is cleared, they step outside to survey the Land of Departure once more. Crossing the bridge, she cannot find Terra among the training grounds. Eraqus holds little worry as to what his other disciple is doing. Instead he gestures at a vague direction nearby the woods.

“Somewhere out here, is a project Terra has been tending to. He has shown me once, and I have to say, I am rather impressed by his craftsmanship to create such a place. He suits his name – I do believe I chose it well.”

“What do you mean?” she asks. Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Of course, back then Terra went by a different name. But when I discovered him and led him to this world, he insisted that he didn’t want it anymore. He wanted a new name, fit for a Guardian of Light. That request was not unusual – in the Golden Age of Keyblade Wielders, it was tradition to have a name, or an alias, that has something to do with the worlds. Like the elements that surround us, and nature that makes each place unique. It signifies what we have to protect, and because of that, nothing is out of reach for us.”

She follows the sweeping motion of his hands, revealing Land of Departure in a new light. Looking at it once more, she can see everything a lot clearer. The landscape, which is fully uncovered now that it’s morning, is a sight to behold. It holds none of Radiant Garden’s symmetric architecture or ridged lines. The land itself isn’t quite tame; it is full of lush trees and blooming wild flowers that grew wherever they pleased. Ponds connect with each other through trickle of streams, glittering in the sunlight. The mountains in the distance seemed to reach to the heavens, its peaks touching the clouds. The world is rough, but at the same time, welcoming. It’s as if years of being a training ground for wielders has shaped it to beckon light.

“We keep the darkness at bay from the hearts of the world and its inhabitants. Keybearers thought to possess the names found in nature as a...declaration of sorts. Think of it as a domain of power. The more the name is connected to the order of the worlds, the more the worlds see to the name keeper’s individual strength, luck, and even fate.”

“I didn’t know names have that sort of power in them,” she admits.

“Well, that much can’t be certain,” Eraqus smiles wryly. “Still, I don’t make light of tradition, especially those that carry good fortune. And so, I decided I’ll give all my students names that best reflect their heart’s might. Ah, and there he is...”

Eraqus nods to the clearing a few yards away, which leads to a small forest. From out of the shadows Terra pops into view. He’s holding a wooden box of tools in one hand and dragging a bag of fertilizer by the other, both probably tools to aid him with his project. After he packs everything up neatly into a nearby shed, he turns their direction, making large expert strides over the hill. When he gets closer, she could see he has a knowing look on his face, like he knew exactly what they had been talking about.

“Terra is a good name,” Eraqus continues, nodding towards the boy. “It is the vastness of the land, as well as the sturdiness of the earth. All worlds are only as good as their foundation.”

Terra’s face is solemn, and he looked every bit as serious as his master. Nevertheless, she catches the pink coloring his ears, and how he busies himself by wiping the dirt clean from his hands with a faded towel.

She turns to face Eraqus once more.

“Will I have to change my name too?” she implores.

“Only if you want to,” Eraqus says gently. “As it is, your current name is already quite nice.”

She thinks for a moment. After everything that has happened, since leaving Radiant Garden and coming here, she felt fluttering anticipation. It isn’t a bad or good feeling, but it’s powerful and steady. With everything so uncertain, a little luck is exactly what she needs.

“I want one too,” she decides. “Can you...?”

She tries to muffle the shyness that kept creeping up her skin. She felt Terra staring at her again, but his expression is unreadable.

Eraqus’ eyes are twinkling, regarding her kindly.

He stoops down to her eye level and puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Without a moment of hesitation, he’s giving her what seems like a gift that he picked out ages ago. Maybe he already knew since the beginning.

“Hair like the waves, eyes like sapphire stone,” he muses. “The worlds’ waters dances and cannot be contained. It gives to all through vast oceans, and travels to those beyond help by streams and rivers. May this encapsulate your curiosity and resourcefulness...Aqua shall be your name.”

There is a stillness in the air when he finishes. Terra glances briefly at Master Eraqus, but he doesn’t question the decision. Together they look at her, and she released a small breath she was holding to break the quiet spell.

“Aqua,” she declares, and it's like breathing anew.

The rest of the morning was a most peculiar of lesson. There was no arithmetic, reading comprehension, or chemistry. There are no classrooms to enter, or materials to pass out for that matter. There was a lot of history though, and Eraqus spins them a tale from a century ago, about when the worlds were one during the Age of Fairytales. They sat by a slope near a pond cover with lily pads, and the trickle from the streams went in time with Eraqus steady pace as he told them about five factions from long ago, the collection of Light (formally known as Lux), the rise of tension, and the Great War that led to the downfall of many Keyblade wielders.

During each of Eraqus’ pauses and prompts of questions, Terra would answer, steadfast and ready, almost anticipating what was next. The boy simpers with pride, and she can feel his smugness next to her. If she could, she would have happily taken down rapid fire notes for the next lesson, but Eraqus hasn’t given them any pencil or paper.

“…Thus, the world of Daybreak Town split into many fragments, each piece developing into a world of its own. The stardust that covers the outer atmosphere shines so brightly each world seems like a star. It is theorized that however luminous a world appears reflects on the quantity and quality of children’s hearts, yearning and waiting to be seen. It’s no coincidence that Radiant Garden honors itself as such a city. They are most likely the brightest world – with the exception of this one – found.

“As you can see, the history of the Keyblade, the Light and Darkness, is not a happy one. The Great War helped to slow the rise of the oncoming darkness, and brought many years of peace, as fracture as it may seem. Yet a colleague of mine and myself have recently felt a stirring amidst.”

Catching her look of alarm, Eraqus flags down her unspoken question.

“Yes, even the shadows you encountered in Radiant Garden are just a weaker strand of what is possible. Although there are no real, physical shadows to fight now, darkness is never truly gone. It can rise at any moment, and the responsibility will fall on our shoulders.”

“Yes master,” Terra quickly replies. She follows his lead, uttering after him, something she’s sure he didn’t miss.

Eraqus looks at them both with satisfaction.

“Seeing as this was your first lesson, I can understand a lot of this may be befuddling. Terra knows all this by heart, since he’s had more time. But perhaps this might help,” Eraqus says, pulling out a book from his robes.

It was an ancient volume, with the cover worn, the title faded, and the pages yellowed. She flips through it quickly, catching bits of text about what Eraqus had told them earlier. There’s a whole section introducing the five foretellers: Ira the Reliable, leader of the others…Invi the Virtuous…Aced the Fearless...Ava the Prudent…Gula the Scholar. They all followed under a master too, selected because they were the best of their kind…She skims to where Eraqus stopped earlier. Past all the countless sacrifice made, for one singular goal–

“Kingdom Hearts?” She thumbs the page. It was mentioned before…

“The elusive Kingdom Hearts,” Eraqus murmurs, bending over to see the page. “Heart of all that is cumulated through space and time. The heart of everything, so to speak.”

“So then, after the Great War, and after the world had split…was it gone too?”

“While it’s true that Daybreak Town is no more,” Eraqus says, rubbing his chin, “I would not say it is gone – rather, it was reborn, just more spread out. As for Kingdom Hearts…”

In the corner of her eye, she could see that Terra has abandoned the pieces of grass he was fiddling with, his face turns curious with a piece of the story he hasn’t heard of before.

“…I would say it faced a similar fate. Hypothetically, it is still possible to summon Kingdom Hearts, as it is not bound to the physical like we are. However, that is the path of a Seeker…and we should leave the natural laws as they are.”

Before she could ask anymore, she feels a warm pat on the head.

“Reborn, very much in a way you were today, Aqua.”

She feels a small, sheepish grin make its way across her face. It was a bit strange, knowing that is who she is now. Had Terra felt the same way when his own name was bestowed on him? Once again, he’s knotting the grass, determine not to look her way. Eraqus closes the book in her hands.

“The library will be an incredible resource to help you catch up with the history of this world, as well as a number of others discovered from me and the masters before us. Let’s see…the first shelf by the door should do. I trust you are acquainted with the library?”

“Yes, Sir Eraqus,” she says, bringing the book closer to her chest.

“Then I will leave you two at it until lunch. After dinner we usually have a bit of astrology by the north tower. Chances are likely for clear skies tonight.”

He gives them a nod, and both students return it with a slight bow. She felt a little proud then, for even if she is a bit slower than Terra at responding with formalities, she has more or less gotten the hang of it. Eraqus crosses the bridge to the castle. They are alone for a whole of one second before Terra decides that’s enough company for today and whisks off, predictably, to the training grounds.

“Hey, um…Terra–” She shuts up, immediately embarrassed.

“What is it?” he drawls, pivoting on the spot.

“Can I come too?”

She originally plans to apologize for yesterday, but the words got jumbled on the way out. She doesn’t know why she’s asking for permission. Apparently, neither does Terra.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” he shrugs. She winces, knowing that is probably true.

Still, she follows him to the training ground, nothing more than a shadow as he secures the golden hoops on a wooden training pole, laces up his shoes and gears himself with knees and shoulder pads. There was a treasure chest by the connecting bridge from where they came from, and Terra unlocks it. Out from the chest was a wooden sword, the same one from last evening. He gives her another one of his meaningful stares, a sign for her to stay out of his way. She crosses the grounds and settles in near the shade. Terra flexes a bit before working in a few quick strikes with his sword. After he was satisfied with that, he shifts into a guarded stance, circling the brass loop like one would to an enemy. She flips through her book, landing once more on the page of the foretellers.

She likes all of them in equally, including their animal symbols; all of them a master in their own right. It was rather tragic then, for things to unfold how they did. The text shows how they each had a different style of fighting: Master Ira has near immunity, his battles won over strong defense…Master Invi is a graceful mage, every attack fused with magic…Master Ava has perfect form, her strikes straight and true…Master Gula is the keen one, always setting up his attacks to confuse and ensnare his opponent.

She looks up from her book to see Terra making wide, rapid swings at the hoops. Eraqus did not lie; the boy has talent in swordplay. His jabs are slow, but definitely hold power.

“Hmm…kind of like…” She scans the page to find the master she was looking for, and upon finding it, whispers a quiet “aha!”

Master Aced is a known wielder that relies on strong barrages to subdue his foes. Although slow to strike, his endurance in battle can outlast most, and let it be known that even one hit from this Master can knock out anyone who is less than his equal.

She raises her book up, so she can match the illustration of the foreteller to Terra. Even the way Terra knocks at the hoop holds some semblance to Master Aced’s finishing jab. She continues to watch as Terra parries and dodges. His breathing is getting deeper now, his skin flush. Still, when he turns at a certain angle, his eyes reveal to be just as blue as ever. She indulges for a moment too long, enough for those eyes to skim over and meet hers–

“Guh!” Terra grunts as he hits the ground hard due to a misstep. Seeing her about to get up to help, he holds out a hand to stop her. “Just stay over there,” he hisses.

His face is completely red now. She stands still, stung by his harshness. As he readies himself to a defensive position, he half pulls a backward glance at her again, before thinking better of it and charging to claim victory over the hoops. As practice wanes on, he was not faring any better; if anything, he is slipping up and making more mistakes, stopping himself from eyeing her almost as if he expects that she’ll get satisfaction from it. Midway through his dodge roll, she decides to head to the library.

“Hey, you–” He pauses, coughing uncomfortably onto his fist. “Aqua.”

It sounds warble and forced, as if he is pulling her name from murky waters.

“Yes?” she says, suppressing the surprise from her voice.

“Where are you going?”

It is phrased less of a question and more of an accusation. She has never known any other child her age to hold such regard for themselves as to monitor the other; even the prefects at school were never this haughty. Had he asked differently, she might have told him.

“Well it doesn’t matter to you, I don’t think,” she says quietly.

He raises an eyebrow at this.

“No, it doesn’t…” he replies slowly, “…but if it did, it’ll only be to make sure you don’t get into any sort of trouble.”

“I won’t. But I’m probably causing a lot of trouble here, since you’ve been slipping and falling a lot–”

“I have not!” he growls, before steeling himself. “And you haven’t answered the question.”

“I’m just going back to the castle,” she says. She makes a point not to say where, though.

“If that’s all you’re going to do you can go.”

She doesn’t leave immediately at what appears to be a dismissal. Instead, they stare at each other in silent defiance, before she remembers he’s still got a wooden sword in his hand, and he wonders if she’s ever going to blink as a sign of submission. He breaks contact first, maybe deciding this wasn’t worth the time he could spend training.

She broods all the way back to the castle, mostly out of worry. She’s never been so confrontational to another person before; on principle she avoids conflict. How then, was she supposed to sidestep Terra, when he lives in the same quarters she does, shares training and meals with her?

Finally reaching the library, she steps in to find the first bookshelf just as Eraqus had mentioned. Her jaw drops – there are rows and rows of books, and this is only considered the beginning. It will take her weeks to forge ahead, let alone catch up, to Terra. She marvels at the old, withering essays, finally making out where she has to start from. The top row is a bit hard to reach, even as she presses square on the shelf, on her tip-toes. Thankfully, there’s a nearby stepladder, and she climbs on top to read the spines of each volume, from Practical Uses of Potions and Charms to Standard Techniques of Swords and Shields. Histories of different, well known Keyblade wielders are placed in-between.

She grabs two thick books and sighs at the sheer weight of it. Finding a table by the window, she tips them over. It’s rather unlikely that she’ll manage to finish one by the end of today…

Terra’s not quite sneering, but proud face crosses her mind.

With a loud scoot from her chair, she rushes back to the first shelf, and pulls out three more books.

The chime of the bell startles her awake. She rubs her eyes, searching for a clock. High noon already…with a long stretch, she could feel the tiredness from earlier melt away. The nap was a long and refreshing one, so the promise of sleep will surely elude her tonight too.

The piles history books are laying out in the open. She had folded tips of pages she thought were interesting to take a second look at while underlining important dates and facts. The books themselves held various scribbles from readers before her, some faded and some more visible. The ones she can make out were written in fresher ink but are no more visible than the rest. The penmanship is poor, and she is certain a few words are misspelled. She pulls out a blank piece of paper and scribbles some words on it in perfect script. There’s immense satisfaction in knowing her handwriting is head and shoulders above Terra’s. However, this small victory becomes further diminished by the fact that if Terra had indeed written on this book, that meant he has already finished it, and so back she went, plowing through page after page.

She takes a break only when her stomach is growling with hunger. Hopping off her chair, she heads over to the dining hall, but changes direction at the sight of the neighboring room’s door held ajar. If she recalls correctly, it’s the treasure room, but she’s never been inside it. She takes a cautious peek inside.

Terra’s back is facing her. He’s sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by boxes. Each box is full to the rim with odd trinkets, mismatch of things, some she suspects that are broken. Terra is holding on to a thin slip of something – a photograph maybe – and what little she sees of his face is seldom, a look that’s far too serious. It’s a moment that belongs to only him, and she fears that if she is to swing the door open, she would pop his bubble of peace. She slips away, careful to go unnoticed.

The halls are empty as she passes them to reach the dining hall. Although food was placed on the table, she couldn’t see any signs of Eraqus. After a silent meal, she roams about, but there’s still no signs of the Master.

“He’s not here,” Terra utters flatly, after she’s made a full circle around the castle and stands once more at the entrance of the dining hall. “The Master leaves almost every day to survey new worlds. He won’t be back until late.”

“Oh,” she says, a bit abashed at being caught wandering without reason. “What do you usually do when he’s away?”

He shifts his weight on his other foot. “None of your business.”

What follows is an awkward silence.

“Okay,” she mutters, trying to rid the discomfort.

“Look,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, “you can do anything you’d like for now, since you haven’t been given any chores. The best thing would be to just catch up on lessons, and try not to poke around at stuff, or cause any problems.”

“I’m not trying to,” she says, readying herself for another one of his cold replies.

Yet Terra is already walking away, and she has no desire to chase after him, to seek his approval. She spins around, heading the opposite direction. To tread carefully around each other is going to be a hard task indeed.

“…and there, you see, in the constellation not far beyond, is a world that lies between two suns…” Eraqus explains, pointing at the mass above.

They are situated at the north tower, the night sky dazzling them with its radiance. It’s cloudless, just as Eraqus had promised. Both students take turns looking through a brass telescope, hyper aware to keep at being mild-mannered now that the Master is back. Eraqus had returned a little after 6pm, according to the clock in the library. After a dinner with more assortments that she couldn’t name, the three of them climbed a circular stairway to the highest tower, where Eraqus began pointing with precision at every world he’s familiar with. Lucky for her, she had brought a notebook this time, and as Eraqus begins listing off the characteristics of this world, her pencil is ready, and she’s jotting down shorthand notes as fast as he could say them out loud.

“Because of its position, it has a unique feature that no other world can replicate – even as it spins in place, with constant exposure to both suns, it never experiences night. The days go by in perpetual twilight.”

“Wow,” she whispers, as Terra passes over the telescope.

Unfortunately, because of its weak range, the most they can see is the stardust surrounding the world. They have to be wary not to look for too long though, as the worlds’ magnified still have potential to blind their eyes. For a while they sit without talking, comfortably full from their meal before. Eraqus reminisces, Terra drifts a little way off to look at other constellations, and she flips through yet another book Eraqus has brought with him.

“Mr. Eraqus sir, what about when stars blink?”

Eraqus shifts his gaze sadly to the ground.

“That strange phenomenon appears only as a signal when a world succumbs to darkness, collapsing in on itself until there is nothing left.”

“Oh.” She gulps. “I’m sorry…”

“Dear Aqua, there is no need to apologize. An excellent question is still worthy of being asked, no matter the answer.” Eraqus points at the book in her hands. “Much like how many stories hold sad events, they are recorded because they hold truths that are irreplaceable in our attempt to move forward from the past.”

“Alright sir,” she says, looking down at the text. “I think I understand.”

“At any rate, it’s still a wonder how darkness can even overtake a world. It’s a strange case, something that happens so rarely that very few has borne witness to. I believe Ansem the Wise is studying this very question as we speak, but we both have so few leads, and even fewer ideas to even form a hypothesis.”

On the Master’s other side, Terra has gone quiet, sporting the same expression she’s seen when she crossed the treasure room.

“So then, that’s why you left? To study other worlds and get an idea?”

Eraqus faces them both with a somber expression. “I do apologize for my absence. I do not intend to make light of my position as a mentor. Even so, I will be leaving from time to time to look for shifts in patterns, as well as potential outbreaks of danger. There are answers to questions that I’m sure will give us certain closures we might need.”

She could be imagining it, but she felt the last sentence being directed to Terra. If he realizes it, the boy made no signs of acknowledgement.

“However, you’ll be glad to hear that I will not be going about as much,” Eraqus says, a tiny smile gracing his features, “since you have arrived. I think, with two promising students now I’ll have my hands full in shaping you both to be the most astounding wielders the worlds have seen yet.”

Like all those times Eraqus has roused her spirits, this is no different. Something is bubbling forth – even Terra has left behind his neutral mask and was finally wearing what appears to be, a smile. It made his face softer, fully uncovering his lovely features.

He puffs out his chest a little, brimming with determination. He has no doubt that he will become a Guardian of Light in the future, so why should she? To have a rival…it’s just as Eraqus said, isn’t it? She can’t let Terra be the only one.

A surge of excitement washes over her at the thought of becoming a full-fledge Master.

The night goes by as a sleepless one. The hours ticks on as she studies by lantern, devouring each book she could get her hands on, until her head is swimming with names and facts. The Foretellers…The Great War…endless promise of Lux…collapsing worlds and rebirth…

Soon her eyelids grew heavy, and it’s time to turn in lest she falls asleep during Eraqus’ impromptu lectures. She stifles a yawn as she makes her way out the library. Again, the treasure room has its door left open. She creeps nearer to the gap. Had Terra forgotten to close it? Speaking of which, he was examining something here earlier, something important. She bites her bottom lip. The whole thing is far too curious for her to let go.

She pushes pass it, glad to find the room empty. Just her, and a couple of boxes. She digs through the nearest one, combing at all its hidden treasures. There are items which she is familiar with, like a ruler, a bag of marbles and a small trophy cup. Then there are others which beckons more of a mysterious air – loose pages of a diary, a ring with its jewel cracked in the center, and an ornate mirror.

Another crate holds knickknacks which she isn’t familiar with. None of them works, as she tries multiple times to operate what appears to be a music box. She pokes around the stuff underneath in a similar fashion. In the end, she ruffles through most of the available trunks, with nothing to show for it except the dust on her hands.

Dust…it occurs to her how odd it was, for all this to be left alone, and for such a long time too.

She picks up one of the diary pages from earlier. The date marks it to be thirty odd years ago, from a town she’s never of, written by a woman of twenty. A quick rummage between the page causes an old photograph to fall, that of ordinary townsfolk going about their daily lives.

She grabs the marble bag she discarded. Flipping it over, she reveals a messy scrawl of perhaps a six-year-old boy. The ring with the cracked jewel on the top has words etch in the inner surface, something about everlasting love – a wedding band.

She had assumed that everything in this room was, as Terra had mentioned, “just old stuff from before Master Eraqus” or collections from the masters before him. However, there is just too much history and intimacy for that to be true. Each crate holds the stories of multiple inhabitants from different places.

There is nothing wonderful or magical about any of these objects, only a displaced sadness. She is right to think she’s intruding. Her neck prickles.

She’s standing on a small graveyard, holding remnants of worlds long gone.

#terraqua #kh bbs #kh aqua #kh terra #kh thp

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fictionstuff · 4 years ago

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Plot: Despite being bullied, scorned, and oppressed all of his life, a thirty-four-year-old shut-in still found the resolve to attempt something heroic—only for it to end in a tragic accident. But in a twist of fate, he awakens in another world as Rudeus Greyrat, starting life again as a baby born to two loving parents. Preserving his memories and knowledge from his previous life, Rudeus quickly adapts to his new environment. With the mind of a grown adult, he starts to display magical talent that exceeds all expectations, honing his skill with the help of a mage named Roxy Migurdia. Rudeus learns swordplay from his father, Paul, and meets Sylphiette, a girl his age who quickly becomes his closest friend. As Rudeus' second chance at life begins, he tries to make the most of his new opportunity while conquering his traumatic past. And perhaps, one day, he may find the one thing he could not find in his old world—love. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

Episodes: 11

Main Characters: Rudeus Eris Ruijerd Roxy Paul Sylphiette Ghislaine

Points: 7.5/10

Let me firstly say that I enjoyed it and you might question yourself if I am still sane now or probably a degenerate human who's pedo and into animes who “defend” such behaviour, but no, I don't think I am and I can distinguish between fiction and reality while saying what is right and wrong, but still enjoy a fantastic story set in a medieval fantasy world with a mediocre main character who hasn't done much to redeem himself yet but disgustingly show off that he's a 40 year old human from earth who enjoys his lolis and touching them or is just generally consuming his lolis like I am consuming my vegetables each lunch. Either way, there is as much love as there is hate for this anime and I understand both sides just fine.

Mushoku Tensei is a typical jrpg fantasy story about an otaku who was an extreme loser in his world (and no, saving a human isn't considered a redeeming act in itself that deserves my praise) and died to be reborn as a cute boy named Rudeus in a different world. The one thing we can probably all agree on is that the studio did an amazing job at animations, designs and the inclusion of music. This anime is top notch in his regard, probably even the best of the entire winter season. The love lies in the details, in very detailed backgrounds, in vivid beautiful areas in interesting and well done character designs and so much more. You can definitely easily realise that this is a high budget project from start to finish and I am glad that it will be a long run anime split into seasons. Which makes sense, because for now it was just the introduction of the show and meanwhile probably just a showcase of what an asshole and degenerate Rudeus actually is.

Meanwhile Mushoku also uses your usual isekai tropes, because the very first thing we actually get to see with Rudeus' eyes are two very jiggly melons that belong to his new mother while the baby wears the ugliest grin seen in human history. We may also just admit that the urge to demonstrate perversion at every other chance is the solemn downfall of the anime. Touching a young girl in between her legs while she's sleeping while trying to justify himself a bit later is strange to me and downright wrong as well as immoral and absolutely repulsive. I don't watch anime to be reminded of real life, so I just looked past that and tried not to focus my attention on this heavily obvious problem, but even that is hard when the anime tries to push it into your face while never even thoroughly punishing Rudeus. The way he goes without punishment (besides a kick in the guts) doesn't redeem the anime either, so I do understand when people drop it. It's entirely wrong, I do understand, but to judge the entire story and anime because of that seems wrong to me, too.

I do agree on the other hand that the show could have easily showed one of those scenes or dialogues and it would've been enough to display Rudeus' disgusting behaviour, but the ones that follow are highly unnecessary which dampen the overall enjoyment of the anime, but doesn't make the rest of it feel super bad either. I do think it is refreshing that Mushoku Tensei showcases actual lust and sex and masturbating, because it fits the medieval theme as well as... parts of real life. Most animes just stay away from that. Bonking your maid here almost seems normal and there are openly disgusting pieces of scum here which actually are quite popular among the female race. Yes, I do speak about Paul and there is more content which is morally questionable but that still didn't take away the joy from the nice plot progression, the slightly redeeming path Rudeus has chosen, the fantastic special effects and uses of magic as well as the interesting lore which very sadly isn't much within the focus of the anime.

Apart from that there is a huge support cast which doesn't receive much attention or development, while I do have to mention that they are interesting, but 11 episodes couldn't achieve any of that, so I truly hope to be able to judge real character development with the upcoming seasons. I shall review the next season and then make another statement, cause around 20 episodes should be able to reveal some sort of development. For now I can give this 7.5 points, say I enjoyed it quite a bit and also mention that the main character doesn't appeal much to me now while also mention that the character / story development needs an upgrade in the next season hopefully. Wonderful splendid art is after all no excuse for bad story writing or repulsive characters without redeeming qualities. If you're put off by ecchi or degenerate disgusting characters, then this probably isn't for you.

Animation/Character Design – 9.0

Characters/Story – 6.5

Enjoyment – 7.5

#anime review #review

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witchyuria12 · 8 years ago

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Court of Ravens

OwO what’s this? I’m actually making a post? That never happens!

Well, I’m back guys. This story here is something I did for my Intro to Creative Writing class, as well as a sort of first step in a worldbuilding project I’m working on. This is an unedited, straight out of the box version which will be workshopped on tuesday, so it will probably change. I might delete this post then and post the better, updated version, but who knows. Anyway, here goes:

The grove that lead towards the hidden temple had not seen a living being in ages. Most of humanity had forgotten about the site long ago and the wild creatures, sensitive to the magic that permeated the site, stayed away. Thus, the path that would have lead Serah there was overgrown, nature attempting to take back what was once theirs. Luckily, the plants were no match for her axe and she slowly, but surely made her way deeper, into the center of the grove.

There was a distinct change as Serah reached closer to the temple. The air became thicker, making it hard to breath, and the trees became darker, even having strips of some kind of black moss, but without any sign of true death. The eery caws of ravens could be heard before finally coming into view upon the branches of the trees, staring at Serah with pupil less eyes. The moment dragged on for an eternity and the path seemed to run in circles, but, suddenly, one of the ravens took off and flew over Serah’s head. It made its path between the trees, a path Serah was sure she had already taken, but this time it was different.

There it was, the sacred temple, honoring the ancient goddess of Meltiva, the Lady of Ravens. It was nothing like Serah had imagined. The walls were crumbling and overgrown, the runes that marked the sites consecration were beginning to fade away, and there were no signs of any of the Ladies’ servants. Perhaps the rumors of the Ladies death were not exaggerated after all. But no matter, even a dead god would be able to bring aid upon Serah’s quest.

As Serah walked onwards into the temple, she gained a better view. Towards the left of the temple, held in place by black branches that seemed to grow out of the stone, was a rotten elk, one of its eyes being pecked at by a raven. A clear warning to those who served the god of the forest, Kerovian. Serah lifted her axe, one hand held near the head and the other near the bottom. She was no worshipper of Kerovian, but neither was she of the Lady. She had to be careful.

Peeking into the temple itself, the only thing Serah could see was a ruined stairway leading deep into the earth. As she took her first step, the stone shook. She would have to be wary to where she took her steps. As Serah slowly walked deeper into the temple, an unnatural darkness began to surround her. She had only been going down for a moment, but the light from outside already seemed to be miles away. She could make out, however, long lines of runes that ran throughout the walls, but whether they told stories of a religious nature or were the markers for divine spells, she did not now, for the runes were a language she could not read.

As she finally place her feet on solid ground, torches started to light up, one by one. Their blue light slowly reveal a small room in the shape of a half-circle. Five figures were placed upon indents in the walls, each in watch of the archway in which Serah had just entered. There was the standing corpse of a Meltivian knight, the statue of grey wizard, the half-broken statue of a barefoot lady, an altar holding a blade covered in blood and, a crowned corpse of man sitting upon a stone throne.

That last one, sitting in the opposite side of Serah, called the most attention. His crown was made of stone and the symbol of Ravens was etched upon its front. His eyes were white and ever-open, his beard was grey and covered in moss and broken branches, and his body was pale and skinny, yet there was no sign of rotting. Suddenly, yet slowly, his mouth began to open. Serah quickly put her guard up. Once his mouth was open to its full capacity, the movement stopped, but after only a few moments of silence, the corpse spoke.

“Put down your weapon, young one. You shall know be judged by the court of ravens!”

His voice echoed throughout the room. As Serah did what he said, the room started to come alive. The scraping of stone could be heard as the grey wizard stomped his staff upon the floor. From the bloodied sword and the half-broken statue formed two spirits, one of a knight glowing an ethereal blue, the other black and formless wearing a white mask with sockets for two eyes and smiling mouth. The final figure, that of the Meltivian corpse, simply relaxed his stance and, despite not having any muscles, seemed to smile at Serah.”

“Explain who you are.”

“I’m a Serah Loreborn, knight of Meltiva, oathed to Kellorn the knight-blood.”

“A woman knight? And one born from the lores? This is outrageous! Meltiva would not fall so low.”

The spirit knight had been the one who spoke. He had placed his hand upon his ethereal blade and had stanced forward. Serah glanced to him, but held back any retort she may have had.

“Times have changed, Elgorn. Meltivia isn’t the cesspool of old men with even older ideas it once was. Progress required it.”

The other knight, the skeleton adorned with a chain hauberk covered by a gold and red surcoat, was the respondent. Though his surcoat did hold the colors of Meltiva, including the stallion symbol of the coat-of-arms, it was mismatched with the symbol of a raven. A corruption from the Lady, serah thought.

“Without tradition, how are we any better than our enemies?”

“Don’t worry your little head. The nobles of Meltivia still practice all your precious rituals and hold on to your meaningless ideals. Its just that merit now warrants some of those ideals need to be ignored. Which means this young lady” The skeleton slightly bows his head and raises a golden cup in Serah’s direction “must have gone through quite a bit to get to where she is.”

“If you weren’t…”

“Silence!”

The strength of the shout almost pushed everyone back. All the attention was once again place on the crowned corpse.

“Why have you sought the temple of the Lady?”

“I am on a quest. A horde of beasts, led by a sorcerer of cain, threatens the kingdom of Meltiva. I...” She pauses “...We need the power of a god to help us against this all consuming threat. I would ask to speak to the Lady to seek this power.”

“Speak to the Lady!?! What arrogance!”

A screeching female voice came from the masked black ghost. Her shadowy form quickly slithered around, stopping once her face was directly upon Serah’s.

“Do you even know who you speak of.”

Serah’s stoic face was about to waver. The ghost’s firm grin strook at Serah’s soul as if rummaging through its insides. The longer Serah resisted the sharper the rummaging became, almost as if it was trying to cut Serah’s very being. But Serah held it together. Even a slight change in expression could mean a quick death. Or worse.

“Kellorn is silent. The Lady is our last hope.”

“Your damned kingdom should have thought of that when they left the Lady for that worthless young-blood.”

“Kellorn rightfully won his place upon the pantheon of Meltiva.”

“It is unwise to speak in such a manner to servants of a rival god, even if others started first.”

The statue of the grey wizard gave an angry stare at the ghost with that final statement.

“At least it shows the lady has spirit.”

The skeleton knight laughed. Finally ending his unblinking stare at Serah, the crowned corpse turned to the skeleton knight and spoke.

“Knight of the Raven! You seem to favor this young lady. Do you vouch for her?”

“One must simply have strength and will to follow in the way of the Lady of the Raven. I feel this young knight has shown plenty of both. She has my vouch.”

A short pause before the crowned corpse turns his stare back at Serah.

“Wizard of the Grey, Witch of the Black, and Blood of the Lady! Do you agree with the Knight?”

The answer that sounded throughout the room was a resounding no. Serah started to tense up. This could mean the end of her quest and that could mean the end of Meltiva. No, she had to do something.

“The court has decided. On this day, Meltiva shall not…”

Serah charged at the crowned corpse, her axe held high. With full force she began to strike down and… She was stopped. She could no longer move. Her axe was ripped from her hands and clanged at hit strook upon the stone wall. Her arms were twisted backwards and she was forced onto her knees, hitting the ground with full force. Her head was forcefully lifted, her eyes now unable to blink.

“I AM THE KING OF RAVENS! YOU ARE POWERLESS BEFORE ME!”

The king got up, demonstrating a size he did not appear to be before. An unnatural fear spread through Serah. Not a fear of pain, not a fear of death, but a fear of oblivion itself. As the KING OF RAVENS grabbed her by the chin, placing his thumb upon her opened mouth, her eyes became a pure black. A dark energy began to swirld around her as the brand of the Lady was marked upon her skin. The KING did not have to say anything else, Serah knew she was now owned by the Lady, a powerless servant.

“YOU SHALL GO ON A GEAS ANEW, BUT NOT FOR HEARTH OR HOME, NOT FOR COUNTRY, BUT FOR YOUR ONE AND ONLY GODDESS.”

“Yes, KING OF KINGS!”

Blood flowed from Serah’s mouth as the KING OF RAVENS removed his hand. She was flung to the grown, striking upon the cold stone floor. She could hear a final laugh from the witch before silence. Before darkness.

Serah woke up, she didn’t know how much later, upon a rocky floor. Her sense of fear, of dread, was gone, but she knew that nothing had changed. She was now branded by the lady, an eternal servant to the Lady. She did now have the goddess on her back, but not for Meltiva. She would have to leave that past behind. She started to get back up, despite being incredibly sore.

“You should not have done that.”

Serah looked at the direction of the voice, a familiar one. Sitting upon one the larger boulders was the skeleton, the Knight of the Raven. He had his arms crossed and he was staring directly at Serah.

“What are you doing here?”

Serah walked closer to the Knight.

“I vouched for you. You were my responsibility from then on. Taking care of you is now my punishment.”

Serah put her palm onto her face.

“I’ve made a horrible mistake, haven’t I.”

“You have, but don’t feel too bad about it.”

Serah shot a confused look at the knight.

“What?”

“Being an eternal powerless servant to an unforgiving goddess is bad, yes, but it's not the end. And as for me, I was waiting for an excuse to leave that room for a while know. Standing there for an eternity isn’t too good for one’s bones, you know.”

“You seem to be taking this way too lightly.”

“As an immortal, if you don’t, you end up like those the others.”

Serah didn’t know what to think. She had failed to get help for her nation and she was had been forced into the servitude of a goddess, but, at least, she was alive and that gave her a chance to fix things. Perhaps the Knight was right.

“Anyway, do you know what my quest is now?”

“Geas” He corrected her “and yes, I do. The Lady does not much care for Meltiva, at least, not any longer. But she too has a trouble with Cain, the god that your sorcerer follows. As the beast hordes attack the northern lands of Meltiva, a smaller force is striking in the south, on the lands of the ancient kings. There, Cain hopes to gain hold a stone, buring with one of the tombs of the ancient kings, that is said to give one the favor of Valuh, the elusive King of the Gods. That is his true goal. We are to stop him from doing so and, perhaps, gather the stone for our Lady.”

Serah’s expression changed from one of regret to one of anger. She walked right up to the knight and began to angrily gesture as she spoke.

“If Cain was also the Ladies enemy, why didn’t you give me the power in the first place.”

“Because the others were afraid you would misuse it. Now that you are in full servitude, unable to break your chains to the Lady, it is impossible for you to do so.”

Serah sighed.

“I guess you're right.”

Serah looked around for her axe and, once she found it, picked up.

“Well, it's a long journey to get to the south, so we better get going.”

“Indeed”

The two newly joined companions got everything they had, a rather light load, and headed into the forest, a little fearful, but ready for whatever this geas would hold for them.

#story #writing #worldbuilding #lore #magic #witch #female protagonist #fantasy #ravens #servant #dark #temple

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