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Chapter 15

“They should all die.” The blast blew apart the tree.

“They should all suffer.” Hot energy scorned the earth around him.

“They should all beg!” Sky lines ripped beneath his cry.

“They should all know…” He slumped to the ground he destroyed, heart breaking more and more as he did.

“Know my pain.” Teeth bared, he moved once more. He was determined to find one, to find anyone. A life must exist near him. A life that has not known the sufferings of loss, the defilements of love, and the scorns of friendship. And it would be that life he would work upon. The life he would slowly decay, slowly rot…

- But swiftly end.

Black ears perked as felt a life. Not near by any sense, but not far from where he could move.

An hour. A minute. A second. It wouldn’t be long, regardless.

Whomever the life was, it was soon to be his own.

The shadow vanished in a sphere of light.

-----------------------

It took of a flash of the moment for the cat to strike. It took the blink of an eye for flames to erupt from her hands. And it took all but a breath of air for the man in black to raise his blue ice shield.

Fire met ice, and steam was born. A heavy fog unlike any natural rearing from the earth itself. The dark wolf widened his eyes in shock as the mist rolled across the forest floor, well above his own plain of vision. An arm rose to shield the golden orbs from the oncoming mist, as the other held was held protectively over the limp form of the fox.

Beyond the sight of his own eyes, the harsh sounds of crashing lumbar sounded, not far from the accompaniment of burning flames.

His arm once held as a shield turned into a latch, holding the silver fox close to his dark form as he leapt from the field of battle. His feet settled still within the surrounding mist, yet away from the crashing trees. A cry met his ears, not of pain, her knew, but of rage. Whomever the cat was, she did well to fight upon her rage, and not for the unbidden anger. Gently, the black wolf laid the trench coated fox on the trunk of a tree. His head lulled to the side, resting on his own dark garbed shoulder. A lightening etched ear stuck from the side as he did. Arms lax and legs still, the form of Nova appeared almost as if in a dream. Perhaps he was, but Willie had little time, if any, to dwell on it.

Another tree met the forest floor, a powerful smash sounding through the dense fog. Powerful legs dug into the soil beneath him, fallen leaves of years past crunching and cracking beneath his paws. With a single extension, he flew forwards into the fog, willing and waiting to meet the flames he knew to exist.

It was a losing battle. Flames met either the impenetrable blue shield of the blonde sadist, or burned the trees of the forest asunder. Freezing frost scraped at her violet clothing, ripping the articles in ways that only fueled her growing fire. Rage was quickly overcoming her, and she did nothing to stop it.

Another icy ball punctured the thick mist, narrowly missing her raised ear. Cracking wood and splitting lumbar filled the air as the ball met a new target.

She cursed beneath her breath, swearing to rip out every organ the man had. Too thick of mist to see him flee, and to many sounds to hear him step. It was maddening. Fighting a foe she could neither hear nor see, and knowing full well what was to come should she fail.

“Alright resigning from the fight?” The icy voice lifted through the fog. Without a second thought, Hinote threw a ball of fire at the voice, watching with mirth as the fiery red orb parted the mist in its wake. Cracking and crackling wood sounded once more through the otherwise silent forest. But not screams of pain nor anguish accompanied it. She missed.

“You will have to do better than those measly attacks to even be a challenge to me.” The mockery felt like course paper across her fur, ripping and tearing her to near blood lust rage. Red turned to blue as her eyes sharpened to near sight tearing fierceness. Frosted leaves beneath her feet crackled in pain as the rage within her grew.

“Just try and fight me for real you lousy pansy!” She screeched into the woods, waiting for the reply she would hope to send her fire towards. But much to her dismay, only a new ball of ice pierced the veil of the mist, moving towards her with the intent of murder. This time, however, she needed in no way to move. Single white gloved hand raised, the blue flames upon her form scorched the air before her, turning the bone chilling cold into skin melting heat. And as the skin of flesh would do, the ball of ice did.

“Is that all you got?” She threw out in a sarcastic mock. All she needed was for him to speak. To say something without at tree falling or ice shattering. All she needed was to hear where he was, and she could pounce as if he were no more than a mouse. It may have been only a few moments, but they passed so agonizingly slow that the purple cat was near tempted to burn the whole forest down, damning the lives of any, any, within. But it was with a near fiery twitch a noise did reach her threw the mist, and she wasted not a second more to hurl a ball of flames towards it.

The cry that came met her hears with relishing delight. For all his taunts and all his games, the blonde sadist gained nothing from her to keep, and she had taken all he could possess. By now the fires would melt the god awful black cloak, smelted the iron of the zippers to his chalk white skin and impossibly blond hair. That grin of unearthly mirth would be twisted and grown into an agonizing scowl of pain. And that damned blue shield would fall the forest floor without an arm to hold it. Yes, all of that would come, and all she need do is wait for the fog to fall. But then, the impossible came.

He spoke.

“Quite the shot you are.” He still sounded so… happy? How? How? How could any one beneath the fiery might of her rage filled blue flames be happy? How could they possibly even mock within such a state of pain, while their limbs were burned and their souls left asunder? How?

“You really think so?” The purple cat spoke with sarcasm thick enough to drown within. “How about you show me just how good of a shot I am!” It was a long shot in itself, but still one she was willing to take. Her golden irises still scanned the thick mist around her, hoping for just a moment they may rise, and give face to the enemy she so hated to hear, but would kill to see.

“But of course.” The words almost passed her, they were so unexpected. They indeed have missed her ears should the action that followed not take place.

The fog began to rise.

Her hopes rose with the white smoke. Once it was gone she’d see that damned blonde on the ground with his last breath passing his lips. The cloak of his last illusion would lift with the mist, and she would watch the bastard as he left this world. Forms took shape from within rising mist, and she cast a wicked grin across her violet face. He was on the ground. He was in pain. He was clutching his sides. He was going to die! But… when the mist finally lifted, when the white smoke was banished, she held her breath behind a hot gloved hand… and bitter tears. It was not the man cloaked in black that lay upon the ground. He stood with his blue shield shining, smile as wicked as the moment the mist had been set. Before his feet the figure lay, a form she wished no ill on.

The black wolf Willie lying in pain.

Sharp teeth bared as his furred hands held the scorched skin and burnt fur. Even from the yards she was, it was all to plain the damage done. The damage she had done. His black fur singed and gone, the sensitive flesh beneath smelted away. Hot blood rolled across his claws as his paw pushed hard against the wound. Embers still marred the endings of his fur, and black smoke lifted from the blood he tried in vain to keep.

She had done it. She had burned him. She did it… She did it. She did it!

“Aw, don’t be sad little one.” The blonde man mocked once more. His throat bobbed as if in a silent chuckle, and the sorrow Hinote held changed swiftly from sorrow to rage. “But I think it best for me to be off now.”

“No!” She shrieked, hand pointing well to the form of the black garbed man. “You’ll stay here, and die here!” Sharp eyes looked back into the human’s own cold blue orbs. Whilst the fire of battle raged within the lilac cat, a sort of haunting peace took rule of his. A contrast rare within any world, but one neither he nor she cared to think upon.

“No, no, no,” the lecture like voice spoke, single hand waving side to side as each syllable left his lips. “I was called long ago to a meeting of piers, and I have run very late to such a meeting.” His head tilted, testing almost the will of the cat to fight. “But I will cross paths with you again. I know this well. All that is left to variables, is whether it ‘fore or after the great gates are open.”

“What?”

“Farewell,” he spoke in motion she could not match.

His mighty blue shield slammed hard upon the ground, tensing the muscles of the cat as if struck. But it was not she he aimed for. No. He aimed for nothing, not a thing to kill with the crystals of ice, with his choice tool of death. No.

He moved to grab the wolf.

Maybe, just maybe if she was a second faster, moved a moment sooner, she would have saved the black wolf from his fate. Kept the life away from death’s cold stare. But as it was, she was not.

Shadows void of light swarmed the man like locusts. They clung to him, wrapped around him, absorbed him into the formless mass. But worse yet, was the injured wolf they took with him. The violet cat found herself moving without thought, acting without care. Her arms pouncing towards the man in pure primitive instinct, and ready to rip his throat even at the cost she join the shadows.

But she could not.

She met only the crumbled leaves of the forest floor as he vanished into the shadows.

She had failed. She couldn’t save him. She had hurt him. She killed him. Golden eyes met her shaking paw, gloved white and unable to hold still beneath the cold truth of her own inaction.

“They were right.” Only her own arms clung to her form as comfort. Not a soul around could help her. Not a soul could know just what she meant. Not a soul could share her torment. And not a one could help her as her mind began to break.

Not a one.

-----------------------

The book slammed on the table with enough might to make Sora jump back off the chair he leaned back on. The brown spike haired youth looked to his own silver haired friend, confusion written, as clear as words on paper, on his face.

“What’s up?”

“We’re leaving.” Now the Key Blade Master fell over.

“What! Why? We haven’t even met the whole town yet!” Riku didn’t even leave himself time to respond. In a swift motion, he pulled Sora up, grabbed the book firm, and shoved the hard novel into his friend’s chest.

“Page 20.”

“What?”

“Page 20, read it.” Without another word, he moved to the door, and opened it to the world beyond. To say the youth from the Islands of Destiny was confused would do no justice to the true depths of his wonder. In the span of five seconds, near a millennia’s worth of questions were raised. Why was Riku on edge? Why did he believed they had to leave? What could make the wielder of the Path To Dawn fear the land they walked on? But of all the questions, one rang loud.

“What’s on page 20?” He opened the hard leather binding of the text in hand, thumbing at the pages. 17, 18, 19, 20. He stopped to look at the header for brief moment. He never did enjoy reading. Not in school, and not even when the fate of the world’s depended on it. Whatever could be written could be equally spoken, so he never bothered to read text, just listen to words. As such, reading the words he was told, the spike haired child was sure nothing he read could make him jump as much as his friend. But the header did justice to grab his attention.

“Fate of the Fourth?” He spoke in question as his eyes scanned the golden indentations. A callused finger rubbed the edgings as he spoke them. Something… haunting lingered on the words. A phrase that seemed almost banished from time, and yet he was speaking as if in protest to the laws of creation. With a shrug he read on.

Three to create, but four to rule. A fourth to guide the three, a pillar to balance the ends, and risen to stone to hold the greatest creation. It was a curse to the one who had held such a task.

Perhaps from the shadowed remains of a fallen village, or from a future not far, the god came in mortal form. A mage of unsurpassed potential, and a mind to rival even the wisest of men. With a tongue trained to the ears of the masses, he spoke of truths forbidden from the mind. He spoke of the weakness of the heart. He spoke of the strength of the soul. He spoke of the power of the body. He spoke of the wisdom of the mind.

And it was in the time of greatest discourse that he promised to bring peace through sacrifice, and content from pain. While the seas raged at their highest, fighting the lands that strove to rule the air, he walked alone to the center of the natural war, blade in hand. None can say or write the truth of his actions, but the outcome is forever to be known.

He ended a war of gods, by the sacrifice of his heart and soul.

“Heart… and…. Soul?” The words left his mouth on a dry tongue. Those… things. They couldn’t possibly mean he did that, did they?

“Hey Riku!” He called as he sat up, black clothes bouncing as he jumped to the wooden door. “What was that all about anyway. Wha-“ He stopped on hitched breath, and widened his orbs till the irises sank. Muscles became hard as stone as the sights before him met his eyes. As if caught in time, the key blade master let his jaw fall, not even willing to hold his jaw straight now. What met his eyes, was a sight not even he, a slayer of heartless, and commander of laws, was prepared to see, and one he had never imagined to see before.

Bodies.

Bodies of men, bodies of women, and bodies of children, scattered across the small village in a rag-doll state. Blood pooled the still forms, and sprayed as if carried by the wind itself against the few buildings and many trees. One lay not but a few feet from Riku, and the sight stole his breath away with cold grasp. Eyes were ripped fully from their sockets, leaving the dead mass of their brain visible to the few who had little hair to conceal their now hallow sockets. Teeth were shattered and mangled beneath the blows they never heard. Skulls destroyed under the silent hands of death.

And not but an eye’s glance from where the silver haired teen stood, did he see the body he met oh so little time ago. Like a dead man he walked, feet dragging behind scarcely lifted legs. The weak appendages gave out as the bloodied form was beneath him. Empty eyes traced the still form, from her bloody blonde hair, to her torn crimson blouse, and resting finally on the once petite silk hands. Any innocence those small appendages once had were far gone as a blanket of gore was replaced over them. Muscles, blood, and even veins wrapped and coated the sharp talons of her hands, and it was mind numbing.

For the longest time, he merely stood there, not caring of Sora’s fright behind him, nor of the cries his friend made as the other bodies of Ordon were found by his horror stricken face. All Riku cared for now was the life that had ended before he even knew it.

Her name, that was near all he knew of her. Just her her name and home. He didn’t know what she liked to wear. Never in his wildest imaginations could he find what she did for a hobby. Bets would be lost were he asked even what she thought of him. He knew nothing of her, and now he never would.

“Tragic, is it not?” The silver haired teen spun with Path to Dawn materializing within his hands. For whatever enemy committed this atrocity, there would be no morsels of mercy.

“But such is the fate of any good test. The hypothesis is proven, and reactants morphed.” A man gowned in a dark robe stepped from the shadows. Long silver hair, not unlike the child from Destiny Islands, was pulled across one eyes, hiding his features from the world to see. However, one such feature was inescapable.

The coy sadistic grin mounted like a trophy upon his face.

“Organization!?”

“What did you do!?” It took a moment for Riku to realize that Sora had shouted the question in rage, and not he as before.

“What I did? Nothing, simply watched.” His arms crossed in comfort. Something was close. Something… else…

“Watched wha-” He never finished. Riku had pulled the Key Blade Master into a tight lock as a portal of darkness engulfed them. Not but a second later did the very soil he once stood on rip from the ground, and be thrown far against the horizon. Another mass of darkness appeared, spewing from it the two teens. Once gasped for breath as the other stared with anger to rival that of demons.

“Careful now, she quite the attraction for misery.” A small hint of a chuckle was heard, but it was dismissed beneath the teens’ watch of their new foe.

Concealed to the same degree of an Arabian Belly dancer, the anthropomorphic creature stared at the two with a blood lust unmatched. Tight black strips of leather across her torso concealed the little modesty the creature had. Her gloves, though there, were cut at the tips, leaving the skin to perch free in the air. The entire glove, however, reach far up the length of the animal’s arm, ending only near the base of her elbow. But any thoughts of her clothing were vanquished beneath the horrific colorings of her skin. The ugly green roots she adored for her spikes were slowly enveloped at the tip by the very darkness Riku had used. Her golden eyes gleamed with pleasure, reflecting the mix of horror and anger in the two she faced.

“Now Mad Mind,” her eyes moved, but head kept still, “Slay these two with your own hands. Watching the others claw their own throats out is nice, however, it seem so-” Like Sora before him, the black gowned Organization member was cut short as the silver haired teen charged with the force of a mountain.

Sora was quick to follow

-----------------------

He watched that Shadow come.

He knew to what end it wished to achieve.

He thought of the darkness that now ruled the shattered heart.

And as that charging mass moved with speeds unfounded and rage unknown, he did little to prepare for the confrontation that was sure to come. His blade was sharp, both ends tipped. His eyes were keen, spotting even the dust upon the wind. His mind was fresh, thinking at a warrior’s pace.

He was ready for the Death Match.

Description
Chapter 15

“They should all die.” The blast blew apart the tree.

“They should all suffer.” Hot energy scorned the earth around him.

“They should all beg!” Sky lines ripped beneath his cry.

“They should all know…” He slumped to the ground he destroyed, heart breaking more and more as he did.

“Know my pain.” Teeth bared, he moved once more. He was determined to find one, to find anyone. A life must exist near him. A life that has not known the sufferings of loss, the defilements of love, and the scorns of friendship. And it would be that life he would work upon. The life he would slowly decay, slowly rot…

- But swiftly end.

Black ears perked as felt a life. Not near by any sense, but not far from where he could move.

An hour. A minute. A second. It wouldn’t be long, regardless.

Whomever the life was, it was soon to be his own.

The shadow vanished in a sphere of light.

-----------------------

It took of a flash of the moment for the cat to strike. It took the blink of an eye for flames to erupt from her hands. And it took all but a breath of air for the man in black to raise his blue ice shield.

Fire met ice, and steam was born. A heavy fog unlike any natural rearing from the earth itself. The dark wolf widened his eyes in shock as the mist rolled across the forest floor, well above his own plain of vision. An arm rose to shield the golden orbs from the oncoming mist, as the other held was held protectively over the limp form of the fox.

Beyond the sight of his own eyes, the harsh sounds of crashing lumbar sounded, not far from the accompaniment of burning flames.

His arm once held as a shield turned into a latch, holding the silver fox close to his dark form as he leapt from the field of battle. His feet settled still within the surrounding mist, yet away from the crashing trees. A cry met his ears, not of pain, her knew, but of rage. Whomever the cat was, she did well to fight upon her rage, and not for the unbidden anger. Gently, the black wolf laid the trench coated fox on the trunk of a tree. His head lulled to the side, resting on his own dark garbed shoulder. A lightening etched ear stuck from the side as he did. Arms lax and legs still, the form of Nova appeared almost as if in a dream. Perhaps he was, but Willie had little time, if any, to dwell on it.

Another tree met the forest floor, a powerful smash sounding through the dense fog. Powerful legs dug into the soil beneath him, fallen leaves of years past crunching and cracking beneath his paws. With a single extension, he flew forwards into the fog, willing and waiting to meet the flames he knew to exist.

It was a losing battle. Flames met either the impenetrable blue shield of the blonde sadist, or burned the trees of the forest asunder. Freezing frost scraped at her violet clothing, ripping the articles in ways that only fueled her growing fire. Rage was quickly overcoming her, and she did nothing to stop it.

Another icy ball punctured the thick mist, narrowly missing her raised ear. Cracking wood and splitting lumbar filled the air as the ball met a new target.

She cursed beneath her breath, swearing to rip out every organ the man had. Too thick of mist to see him flee, and to many sounds to hear him step. It was maddening. Fighting a foe she could neither hear nor see, and knowing full well what was to come should she fail.

“Alright resigning from the fight?” The icy voice lifted through the fog. Without a second thought, Hinote threw a ball of fire at the voice, watching with mirth as the fiery red orb parted the mist in its wake. Cracking and crackling wood sounded once more through the otherwise silent forest. But not screams of pain nor anguish accompanied it. She missed.

“You will have to do better than those measly attacks to even be a challenge to me.” The mockery felt like course paper across her fur, ripping and tearing her to near blood lust rage. Red turned to blue as her eyes sharpened to near sight tearing fierceness. Frosted leaves beneath her feet crackled in pain as the rage within her grew.

“Just try and fight me for real you lousy pansy!” She screeched into the woods, waiting for the reply she would hope to send her fire towards. But much to her dismay, only a new ball of ice pierced the veil of the mist, moving towards her with the intent of murder. This time, however, she needed in no way to move. Single white gloved hand raised, the blue flames upon her form scorched the air before her, turning the bone chilling cold into skin melting heat. And as the skin of flesh would do, the ball of ice did.

“Is that all you got?” She threw out in a sarcastic mock. All she needed was for him to speak. To say something without at tree falling or ice shattering. All she needed was to hear where he was, and she could pounce as if he were no more than a mouse. It may have been only a few moments, but they passed so agonizingly slow that the purple cat was near tempted to burn the whole forest down, damning the lives of any, any, within. But it was with a near fiery twitch a noise did reach her threw the mist, and she wasted not a second more to hurl a ball of flames towards it.

The cry that came met her hears with relishing delight. For all his taunts and all his games, the blonde sadist gained nothing from her to keep, and she had taken all he could possess. By now the fires would melt the god awful black cloak, smelted the iron of the zippers to his chalk white skin and impossibly blond hair. That grin of unearthly mirth would be twisted and grown into an agonizing scowl of pain. And that damned blue shield would fall the forest floor without an arm to hold it. Yes, all of that would come, and all she need do is wait for the fog to fall. But then, the impossible came.

He spoke.

“Quite the shot you are.” He still sounded so… happy? How? How? How could any one beneath the fiery might of her rage filled blue flames be happy? How could they possibly even mock within such a state of pain, while their limbs were burned and their souls left asunder? How?

“You really think so?” The purple cat spoke with sarcasm thick enough to drown within. “How about you show me just how good of a shot I am!” It was a long shot in itself, but still one she was willing to take. Her golden irises still scanned the thick mist around her, hoping for just a moment they may rise, and give face to the enemy she so hated to hear, but would kill to see.

“But of course.” The words almost passed her, they were so unexpected. They indeed have missed her ears should the action that followed not take place.

The fog began to rise.

Her hopes rose with the white smoke. Once it was gone she’d see that damned blonde on the ground with his last breath passing his lips. The cloak of his last illusion would lift with the mist, and she would watch the bastard as he left this world. Forms took shape from within rising mist, and she cast a wicked grin across her violet face. He was on the ground. He was in pain. He was clutching his sides. He was going to die! But… when the mist finally lifted, when the white smoke was banished, she held her breath behind a hot gloved hand… and bitter tears. It was not the man cloaked in black that lay upon the ground. He stood with his blue shield shining, smile as wicked as the moment the mist had been set. Before his feet the figure lay, a form she wished no ill on.

The black wolf Willie lying in pain.

Sharp teeth bared as his furred hands held the scorched skin and burnt fur. Even from the yards she was, it was all to plain the damage done. The damage she had done. His black fur singed and gone, the sensitive flesh beneath smelted away. Hot blood rolled across his claws as his paw pushed hard against the wound. Embers still marred the endings of his fur, and black smoke lifted from the blood he tried in vain to keep.

She had done it. She had burned him. She did it… She did it. She did it!

“Aw, don’t be sad little one.” The blonde man mocked once more. His throat bobbed as if in a silent chuckle, and the sorrow Hinote held changed swiftly from sorrow to rage. “But I think it best for me to be off now.”

“No!” She shrieked, hand pointing well to the form of the black garbed man. “You’ll stay here, and die here!” Sharp eyes looked back into the human’s own cold blue orbs. Whilst the fire of battle raged within the lilac cat, a sort of haunting peace took rule of his. A contrast rare within any world, but one neither he nor she cared to think upon.

“No, no, no,” the lecture like voice spoke, single hand waving side to side as each syllable left his lips. “I was called long ago to a meeting of piers, and I have run very late to such a meeting.” His head tilted, testing almost the will of the cat to fight. “But I will cross paths with you again. I know this well. All that is left to variables, is whether it ‘fore or after the great gates are open.”

“What?”

“Farewell,” he spoke in motion she could not match.

His mighty blue shield slammed hard upon the ground, tensing the muscles of the cat as if struck. But it was not she he aimed for. No. He aimed for nothing, not a thing to kill with the crystals of ice, with his choice tool of death. No.

He moved to grab the wolf.

Maybe, just maybe if she was a second faster, moved a moment sooner, she would have saved the black wolf from his fate. Kept the life away from death’s cold stare. But as it was, she was not.

Shadows void of light swarmed the man like locusts. They clung to him, wrapped around him, absorbed him into the formless mass. But worse yet, was the injured wolf they took with him. The violet cat found herself moving without thought, acting without care. Her arms pouncing towards the man in pure primitive instinct, and ready to rip his throat even at the cost she join the shadows.

But she could not.

She met only the crumbled leaves of the forest floor as he vanished into the shadows.

She had failed. She couldn’t save him. She had hurt him. She killed him. Golden eyes met her shaking paw, gloved white and unable to hold still beneath the cold truth of her own inaction.

“They were right.” Only her own arms clung to her form as comfort. Not a soul around could help her. Not a soul could know just what she meant. Not a soul could share her torment. And not a one could help her as her mind began to break.

Not a one.

-----------------------

The book slammed on the table with enough might to make Sora jump back off the chair he leaned back on. The brown spike haired youth looked to his own silver haired friend, confusion written, as clear as words on paper, on his face.

“What’s up?”

“We’re leaving.” Now the Key Blade Master fell over.

“What! Why? We haven’t even met the whole town yet!” Riku didn’t even leave himself time to respond. In a swift motion, he pulled Sora up, grabbed the book firm, and shoved the hard novel into his friend’s chest.

“Page 20.”

“What?”

“Page 20, read it.” Without another word, he moved to the door, and opened it to the world beyond. To say the youth from the Islands of Destiny was confused would do no justice to the true depths of his wonder. In the span of five seconds, near a millennia’s worth of questions were raised. Why was Riku on edge? Why did he believed they had to leave? What could make the wielder of the Path To Dawn fear the land they walked on? But of all the questions, one rang loud.

“What’s on page 20?” He opened the hard leather binding of the text in hand, thumbing at the pages. 17, 18, 19, 20. He stopped to look at the header for brief moment. He never did enjoy reading. Not in school, and not even when the fate of the world’s depended on it. Whatever could be written could be equally spoken, so he never bothered to read text, just listen to words. As such, reading the words he was told, the spike haired child was sure nothing he read could make him jump as much as his friend. But the header did justice to grab his attention.

“Fate of the Fourth?” He spoke in question as his eyes scanned the golden indentations. A callused finger rubbed the edgings as he spoke them. Something… haunting lingered on the words. A phrase that seemed almost banished from time, and yet he was speaking as if in protest to the laws of creation. With a shrug he read on.

Three to create, but four to rule. A fourth to guide the three, a pillar to balance the ends, and risen to stone to hold the greatest creation. It was a curse to the one who had held such a task.

Perhaps from the shadowed remains of a fallen village, or from a future not far, the god came in mortal form. A mage of unsurpassed potential, and a mind to rival even the wisest of men. With a tongue trained to the ears of the masses, he spoke of truths forbidden from the mind. He spoke of the weakness of the heart. He spoke of the strength of the soul. He spoke of the power of the body. He spoke of the wisdom of the mind.

And it was in the time of greatest discourse that he promised to bring peace through sacrifice, and content from pain. While the seas raged at their highest, fighting the lands that strove to rule the air, he walked alone to the center of the natural war, blade in hand. None can say or write the truth of his actions, but the outcome is forever to be known.

He ended a war of gods, by the sacrifice of his heart and soul.

“Heart… and…. Soul?” The words left his mouth on a dry tongue. Those… things. They couldn’t possibly mean he did that, did they?

“Hey Riku!” He called as he sat up, black clothes bouncing as he jumped to the wooden door. “What was that all about anyway. Wha-“ He stopped on hitched breath, and widened his orbs till the irises sank. Muscles became hard as stone as the sights before him met his eyes. As if caught in time, the key blade master let his jaw fall, not even willing to hold his jaw straight now. What met his eyes, was a sight not even he, a slayer of heartless, and commander of laws, was prepared to see, and one he had never imagined to see before.

Bodies.

Bodies of men, bodies of women, and bodies of children, scattered across the small village in a rag-doll state. Blood pooled the still forms, and sprayed as if carried by the wind itself against the few buildings and many trees. One lay not but a few feet from Riku, and the sight stole his breath away with cold grasp. Eyes were ripped fully from their sockets, leaving the dead mass of their brain visible to the few who had little hair to conceal their now hallow sockets. Teeth were shattered and mangled beneath the blows they never heard. Skulls destroyed under the silent hands of death.

And not but an eye’s glance from where the silver haired teen stood, did he see the body he met oh so little time ago. Like a dead man he walked, feet dragging behind scarcely lifted legs. The weak appendages gave out as the bloodied form was beneath him. Empty eyes traced the still form, from her bloody blonde hair, to her torn crimson blouse, and resting finally on the once petite silk hands. Any innocence those small appendages once had were far gone as a blanket of gore was replaced over them. Muscles, blood, and even veins wrapped and coated the sharp talons of her hands, and it was mind numbing.

For the longest time, he merely stood there, not caring of Sora’s fright behind him, nor of the cries his friend made as the other bodies of Ordon were found by his horror stricken face. All Riku cared for now was the life that had ended before he even knew it.

Her name, that was near all he knew of her. Just her her name and home. He didn’t know what she liked to wear. Never in his wildest imaginations could he find what she did for a hobby. Bets would be lost were he asked even what she thought of him. He knew nothing of her, and now he never would.

“Tragic, is it not?” The silver haired teen spun with Path to Dawn materializing within his hands. For whatever enemy committed this atrocity, there would be no morsels of mercy.

“But such is the fate of any good test. The hypothesis is proven, and reactants morphed.” A man gowned in a dark robe stepped from the shadows. Long silver hair, not unlike the child from Destiny Islands, was pulled across one eyes, hiding his features from the world to see. However, one such feature was inescapable.

The coy sadistic grin mounted like a trophy upon his face.

“Organization!?”

“What did you do!?” It took a moment for Riku to realize that Sora had shouted the question in rage, and not he as before.

“What I did? Nothing, simply watched.” His arms crossed in comfort. Something was close. Something… else…

“Watched wha-” He never finished. Riku had pulled the Key Blade Master into a tight lock as a portal of darkness engulfed them. Not but a second later did the very soil he once stood on rip from the ground, and be thrown far against the horizon. Another mass of darkness appeared, spewing from it the two teens. Once gasped for breath as the other stared with anger to rival that of demons.

“Careful now, she quite the attraction for misery.” A small hint of a chuckle was heard, but it was dismissed beneath the teens’ watch of their new foe.

Concealed to the same degree of an Arabian Belly dancer, the anthropomorphic creature stared at the two with a blood lust unmatched. Tight black strips of leather across her torso concealed the little modesty the creature had. Her gloves, though there, were cut at the tips, leaving the skin to perch free in the air. The entire glove, however, reach far up the length of the animal’s arm, ending only near the base of her elbow. But any thoughts of her clothing were vanquished beneath the horrific colorings of her skin. The ugly green roots she adored for her spikes were slowly enveloped at the tip by the very darkness Riku had used. Her golden eyes gleamed with pleasure, reflecting the mix of horror and anger in the two she faced.

“Now Mad Mind,” her eyes moved, but head kept still, “Slay these two with your own hands. Watching the others claw their own throats out is nice, however, it seem so-” Like Sora before him, the black gowned Organization member was cut short as the silver haired teen charged with the force of a mountain.

Sora was quick to follow

-----------------------

He watched that Shadow come.

He knew to what end it wished to achieve.

He thought of the darkness that now ruled the shattered heart.

And as that charging mass moved with speeds unfounded and rage unknown, he did little to prepare for the confrontation that was sure to come. His blade was sharp, both ends tipped. His eyes were keen, spotting even the dust upon the wind. His mind was fresh, thinking at a warrior’s pace.

He was ready for the Death Match.