He left the everlasting darkness of the portal behind to enter a new form of darkness, one that enveloped him from every direction. From the black sky, free from a single star, to the vacant, decrepit land, it was hard for him to imagine that this was where his home once stood.
Home... A place so very nonexistent to him now. Ever since the destruction of The Land of Departure, he’d struggled—and failed—to find a place worthy of granting such a title. Home was with Master Eraqus, the man he once regarded as a father, or Aqua, the woman he grew up with and cherished. But now that both of them were gone, he was left with nothing. Nothing but the remaining fragments of darkness in his heart and the forgotten lands that once held promises. If only, he would think to himself frequently, I hadn’t succumbed to the darkness, none of this would’ve happened. The painful truth of this, however, was that it had. He had succumbed to it. And nothing that he ever did could change that.
The building that stood before him now gleamed with an eery light, one that greatly contrasted with its bleak surroundings. It stood as tall as he remembered, otherwise it was unrecognizable. The colored roofs had been transformed to bricks of solid teal; the walls lost the radiance they once possessed. Torn fragments of the building remained forgotten towers upon the ground, collecting debris and wear from the poor conditions they endured. Had this menacing castle not stood where his home once had, he would’ve thought it impossible that it were the very same. While he didn’t dare enter the castle after his initial visit, he recalled the interior being further from recognition. Stark white greeted him wherever his gaze would fall, and every door would lead to the very same location, until the very castle threatened to consume him. Castle Oblivion it was once called, by whom he didn’t remember. Many things happened during Xehanort’s claim of his body. Some incidents were vivid to him, others were but shadowed fragments. Sometimes he thought it was best that way.
Sometimes, but not always.
Sometimes, as he did that very night, he’d sit on the steps leading to the castle, staring at the bleak sky beyond. His cobalt-blue eyes would search, yet they would retrieve nothing. No comfort, no wisdom, no advice... Nothing could be sought from his sittings, yet he proceeded to partake in them. Sometimes he’d do it once a week, other times it’d be every few months. The past week he’d frequented the lands every night, when the hour would grow late and sleep would evade him. He’d sit, watching the sky, searching for answers. And, sometimes, he’d search for alternatives. What ifs, he’d call them. What if he hadn’t fallen prey to Xehanort? Would Master Eraqus still be alive? What if he’d obeyed Aqua, would she still be by his side? These thoughts tormented his very soul until he could stand it no longer, yet he did nothing to end his suffering. Sometimes he felt it was the least he could do, for all those whose destructions were brought...because of him.
That night was no different than all of the others. He leaned back against the wall, the stone cutting into the tender skin on his neck, yet he didn’t bother to move. His gaze remained fixated upon the black sky, which was filled with an odd haze that he’d yet to see present within all his evenings there. Thoughts of his various travels ran through his mind, particularly the days when he’d been innocently searching for Xehanort. Those days he’d made the worst mistakes possible; he knew that now. Hindsight was always 20/20, unfortunately, and there was no way to see the future until it had already come to pass. But, he continued to think, if only I’d known...
Now that he sat there and thought about it, there were a lot of things he’d wished he’d only known. Perhaps he was purely arrogant, but he’d been notorious for heeding the advice of others. He’d always shrugged off simple advice from Eraqus, whether it be to put a jacket on or arrive fifteen minutes early. Aqua frequently nagged at him to organize, yet--perhaps out of willful disobedience--he’d leave his belongings in a complete disarray. He’d never forget the time that Ventus begged to join him the day he left their home, and he’d declined. If only I’d let him, he thought idly, would he still be with me today?
Silence has a way of weighing down on a person, as it began to on him. The torture that the silence whispered combined with that of which the darkness displayed became too much for him. Finally he stood, taking several paces away from the castle before standing back to examine it. It towered before him with such a menacing aura, as though it mocked him in his predicament. A hot tear shimmered down his cool cheek. Being in a bad predicament was one thing, but being powerless to do anything about it was another. Being helpless wasn’t something he was accustomed to and, sadly, he wasn’t adjusting to it kindly.
His melancholy thoughts halted upon a single sting on the back of his neck. At first he thought it was merely his imagination, until he saw it: a shimmering white speck that fell from the sky. He extended a gloved hand to catch the sparkling object, which proved to be exactly what he’d presumed: a snowflake.
A snowflake... How very long it’d been since he’d seen one. The Land of Departure only received a snowfall one other night; a night that had taken place so very long ago. Sadly, he wasn’t sure how much time had lapsed since then. Gauging by the changes the world had seen, he could only assume it’d been a lifetime ago. He remembered it, however, as though it were only last year. That night when he and a dear friend sat outside their home, marveling at the winter wonderland that surrounded them.
“It’s cold!” she had said, bringing herself up on the brick wall to sit beside him. Snowflakes burrowed themselves into her slate-blue hair, complementing it in ways that he could not. A smile stretched thin on his lips as he attempted to dust off a seat for her, yet it affected the snow-covered seat very little.
“What’d you expect, Aqua? It’s cold outside, so of course snow’s going to be cold.” He grinned at her in a teasing manner. “Besides, haven’t you ever heard of ice?”
“Oh, stop it, you,” she chided, returning his playful mannerism by smacking him tenderly across the upper arm. The two stopped their friendly banter as their gaze turned towards the world at large. Never had they seen it as beautiful as it was then. The rooftops were coated in a thick layer of white, one so plush that it looked heavenly to sink into. White specks of snow continued to float down from the frosty sky above. And, for once, the millions of stars were hidden from view due to the thick fog that concealed them. Colorful lights had been strung around buildings to represent the holidays approaching, yet him and Aqua never, not once in their lifetime, had seen snow compliment such decor. True, he’d seen pictures of holiday lights strung around snow-covered trees, but it wasn’t the same in a photograph as it was in real life. There was something so...euphoric about the sight, something that neither teen could voice.
“Terra?” Aqua’s voice was tentative as she turned a sideward gaze in his direction. “Just suppose we had more snowfalls like this, do you think we’d still consider them so--”
“Perfect?” he interjected. Aqua nodded, her deep-blue eyes fixated on him. Terra shrugged. “I can’t really say for sure. I’d hope so, but I don’t know.”
“Wait until we show Ven in the morning,” she said softly. “He’ll be too shocked for words.”
“Maybe, but maybe not,” Terra replied. “He didn’t grow up here, so who knows if he’s ever seen snow before.”
It was true. Ventus was like a kid brother to them, yet they knew so little of his past. They weren’t even sure where he came from. In all likeliness, snow would’ve come as no unordinary thing to the boy, but instead something he’d seen all his life. No, this was a unique moment for Terra and Aqua alone, their first snowfall in their entire lives. Every time he’d traveled abroad to other worlds, Terra silently hoped he’d encounter snow. Each time he left with disappointment, to the point that he’d figured it wasn’t in his destiny to ever see the legendary frozen liquid. That night his destiny changed, as he sat there with his best friend and watched snow fall upon their home.
“I used to think it was strange,” Terra murmured faintly, “that people would play in the snow. I mean, snow angels? Seriously?”
A knowing smile formed upon Aqua’s tender lips as her eyes lit up warmly. “But it makes sense now, doesn’t it?”
Terra nodded silently, his gaze darting nervously from hers towards the snow haven before them. “It does.”
In barely a blink, the blue-haired woman was up on her feet, rubbing her gloved palms together. A multicolored scarf wrapped snugly around her neck, framing her flushed cheeks with her hair adorably. “Well, what are you waiting for, Terra?”
A frown creased his brows, which only seemed to humor his friend. Finally he rose.
“I don’t get it,” he said finally. “Waiting for...?”
“Well, I figured you brought up the snow angels because you wanted to make one yourself,” she said. “So...let’s go.”
His gaze traveled over his friend, wondering what ever managed to come over her. “You’re not...serious. I mean, you wouldn’t really...”
Aqua’s contagious laughter rang through the night and across the open yard. She grasped his hands and pulled him along. “What, make snow angels? Why wouldn’t I? I, unlike you Terra, am not afraid of making a fool of myself and hurting my ego.”
And she left him standing there to ponder her words as she threw herself down on her back, into a thick blanket of snow. It chilled her to the bone, yet nothing could replace the smile planted on her face. The brunet man crossed his arms and watched her.
“I don’t have an ego like that,” he retorted. “It’s just that...well...”
“Whatever you say, Terra,” Aqua murmured, closing her eyes. From where he stood the woman looked ridiculous, smiling as she lay half-frozen and flapping her arms and legs, resembling a child throwing a tantrum. Whether it was because he wanted to defend his ego, or get into the snow—or both—he didn’t know, but after mere moments he found himself sprawled alongside his friend. The cold snow tickled his exposed neck and soaked into his canvas pants, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t recall a time where he’d had more fun.
So, there they were, the two apprentices to Master Eraqus, playing in the snow like young children. They were very much children at heart, despite their growing up in the world of many worlds. For the first time in a very long while, Terra managed to forget the Keyblade. He was able to forget the realms of light and darkness, and the challenges that Master Eraqus ordained for them. For one brief moment it was just them, the way Terra always dreamed it could be.
If only things had gone differently.
But, of course, they hadn’t. He’d chosen this path, as had Aqua. There were numerous times that they’d gotten in fights along the way. Small insignificant quarrels that resulted in none other than their Keyblades and beliefs. Aqua had insisted that two Keyblades were too much for one friendship, though Terra chose to believe it wasn’t. He’d always thought compromises could be made, and their differences could mend. Over the years, particularly when Ven drifted into their lives, he’d noticed their gradual distance, one that unnerved him greatly. For years Aqua had been there, simply a finger’s breadth away, but now it seemed that she was entirely unattainable. The distance was unintentional, but there nonetheless. If only I could go back and fix my mistakes, Terra always thought, we wouldn’t have drifted apart, and she would’ve been mine.
It was something Terra refused to admit aloud, and perhaps something he’d never fully admitted to himself. But, he always partly wondered had things gone differently, had he not been an apprentice to Master Eraqus, if their relationship would’ve changed. He’d known Aqua since childhood; the two had watched each other change and grow. He watched Aqua as she learned to paint magnificent canvases, as did she watch when he learned to speak three foreign tongues. Together their strengths magnified, either with complimentary or aid of the other. A bond was created between the two that not even the strongest of blades could sever, yet Terra always was baffled by what it really meant. Was she merely his best friend, whom he’d do anything to protect, or perhaps something more? Was there some other spark, one that he’d failed to notice? He didn’t know, and from the way Aqua responded to him, it was unlikely he ever would. At times her teasing would seem flirtatious, while other times it was merely a reminder of what they once had as children. It was something he always questioned—at least subconsciously.
Time lapsed longer than he’d realized when he found Aqua staring down at him, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle laughter. Her eyes crinkled with joy, and he could tell she probably felt the same as he did.
“So, you really did break your ego,” she uttered in barely more than a whisper.
“That, or I never had one to begin with. Isn’t that a possibility?” he mocked.
The blue-haired woman brought a hand to her chin, contemplating his words before finally shaking her head. “No, I don’t think so. You can’t pretend I don’t know you, Terra, and even if you’re one of the least arrogant people I know, you still are to a degree.”
“Hey, now!” Terra said warningly. “You take that back!”
Aqua tilted her head to the side, in a gesture that brought out her simplest elegant features. “And if I don’t? What then, Terra?”
“You’ll pay dearly for it.”
A hollow laugh emitted from the woman, before she slowly turned her back to him. Underestimating Terra wasn’t generally a wise move, and this time proved to be no exception. Before Aqua could determine what hit her, something hard and cold hit her in the back of her head. It disintegrated upon impact. She ran her gloved fingers through her hair, finding fresh snow flecks at the site of the infliction. She spun on her heels to shoot a look at her friend, who stood behind her, fresh snowball in hand and ready to strike at any moment.
“Don’t—” she began, but was unable to get the rest of her words out. The snowball from his hand went hurling into the air, hitting her in the shoulder before she could move fully out of harm’s way. An all too familiar chuckle sounded from the brunet, who whipped up another snowball as fast as Aqua blinked.
“Care for another, my dear friend?” he asked sardonically, his tone playful.
“Oh, no you don’t!”
“Just watch me!”
Aqua let out a squeal as she darted down the snow-covered walk. The chase was on. Cold air stung her face and lungs, her frozen joints revolting against their quick movement. She shot a glance over her shoulder, but Terra wasn’t relenting. It was a blessing that she could outrun him, but she also knew that she’d tire out quicker; it was only a matter of time.
Her arms and legs pumped faster. Terra was still hot in pursuit. There weren’t many options remaining for Aqua, yet she chose to brave one. She slipped behind a brick wall, packed the quickest, largest snowball she could, and blindly threw. It hit him in the most unlikely place, and afterward Aqua couldn’t stop apologizing. It certainly caught him off-guard, and made him stop all too quickly in his tracks.
“Terra, really,” Aqua began once more, “I didn’t realize—I wasn’t looking where I threw—I mean—”
“You mean to say you didn’t aim for my face,” Terra finished for her, his voice filled with disbelief. “I wholeheartedly believe you, Aqua. Really, I do.”
At this, the female Keyblade apprentice scowled. She took a step forward and brushed snow gently from his brow. “Yes, that is what I’m saying. And it’s your own problem if you don’t believe me.”
They were close, closer than they’d been in a very long time—and not merely physically. Terra surveyed her face carefully. He never recalled how much her blue eyes shimmered in moonlight, nor how elegantly pointed her face was. Her cheeks were more colored than usual, whether it be from cold or embarrassment he was uncertain. Nor did he care. She was his Aqua, regardless of what their fates had in store for them. Gently, he brushed snow from her bangs.
“If only you could change your past,” he began, in a tone barely more than a whisper against her face. “Anything about it, what would it be?”
Her expression remained unchanged. Snow proceeded to fall in sheets between, on and around them, perhaps heavier than it’d fallen all evening. Finally her lips parted, in words that he couldn’t have predicted.
“I would’ve chosen not to wield a Keyblade, but only because I’ve learned one in a friendship is plenty.”
Confusion must’ve been apparent on his face, for she continued to add, “I know you don’t agree, but it’s drawn a barrier between us. Between you and Ven.”
This wasn’t necessarily a conversation he wished to be having, yet he found no possible way to buy out of it. “You’re right, I don’t agree. There’s plenty of room for Keyblade wielders.”
Aqua silently bit her lip, nodding without uttering another word. The nod wasn’t in assent; Terra knew her well enough to understand that. Instead it was a nod of surrender, because she chose not to battle him.
As we have more than enough this past year, he thought irritably.
For a long while the two strolled silently, further down the path that led into town. The Land of Departure was a small world in comparison to many, yet it offered almost any pleasure the two desired. Brilliant sunsets, a shoreline, a lake, and a beautiful night sky filled with every star in existence. It was said that each star represented a world, yet Terra found it hard to imagine that so many worlds existed.
Silently, almost as in apology, Aqua slipped her hand into his. He squeezed it in return, affirming that everything was alright. He was never truly mad at her, never could be. Aqua had a way of mending other people’s faults, something that sickened him every time he thought about it. There were too many times, he felt, that he took advantage of her kindness without an ounce of gratitude. He prayed that she knew him well enough to understand how he felt, but, particularly as of late, he was uncertain.
The two finally found themselves standing before the lake. The surface didn’t ripple, not even with the falling snow nor the breeze-scattered leaves. It took Terra a moment to realize it was frozen stiff, and probably would remain so until the brutality of the cold decided to relent.
“How long has it been this way?” he asked faintly.
Aqua knelt down beside the lake, resting two fingers against the thick layer of white ice. “For two weeks. Ven’s been practicing his skating, have you not noticed?”
Guilt seized him. He hadn’t noticed. And he hated to imagine how much time might’ve lapsed before he finally did. He brought his fists to his side in an attempt to keep them from shaking.
“I’m sorry, Aqua. I’ve been...”
“Preoccupied. I know.”
Before he could utter another word, he felt her arm wrap around his shoulders.
“It’s alright, we understand. You out of us all have the most pressure under the Master, and I know he’s always laid more of a burden on you,” she soothed.
“No”—Terra shook his head violently, snow falling generously from his hair—”I’ve screwed up. I’m not there for you and Ven like I should be. I’m...sorry, Aqua. Forgive—”
Before he could finish, Aqua silenced him with a “shhh” and brought her fingers to his lips.
“Let it go,” she said. “At least for tonight, let it all go.”
She took a large step onto the ice, holding onto Terra for balance. Once both of her feet were firmly rooted in place she released her grip, sliding her hands into his.
“Let it go, Terra. Please.”
The tension her hands offered strengthened, pulling him closer to the edge of the frozen lake. Before placing his weight on the icy surface, he muttered softly, “Is it safe?”
“Ven’s been skating on it for days. I would assume it is.” Her sparking eyes turned imploringly up towards his. “Dance once with me?”
He didn’t care to admit this often, but he couldn’t dance. Nor could Aqua, for that matter, but he figured that exquisite dance moves wasn’t what she had in mind. Of course, he couldn’t reject Aqua anything that was within his power, as a single dance certainly was.
“I’d dance all night with you,” was his reply.
Hand in hand, the two began to slowly circle around the ice, in a waltz that was missing virtually every step. Silence rang out louder than words to them both, yet neither knew of a way to break it. Their hearts uttered words that died in their throats, that never made it out for either to hear. Terra’s hands grew clammy, and he was suddenly grateful for his gloves. Only their exposed fingers would briefly touch, both too numb from the cold to truly feel anything.
After several laps that felt like one hundred around the lake, Aqua gently rested her head against his chest. His heart beat furiously under her, which he had no doubt she could hear. He could only hope hers was beating almost as rapidly, but for reasons unfathomable he slightly doubted it.
“Do you want to know what I would’ve changed?” he asked, breaking the silence that threatened to succumb them should it have lasted a moment longer.
She turned her head up to face him, without moving from her comforted position. No words came from her, which prompted him to continue.
“I...wouldn’t have wielded a Keyblade either.”
She didn’t gasp nor make a sound, but instead her brows creased with concern. Her eyes fixated unblinkingly from his, making him feel as though his mind were being read. Luckily, Keyblade wielders didn’t have such an ability.
“But, why wouldn’t you?” Aqua asked. “Your one and only dream was to become a Keyblade Master, so why wouldn’t you want to—”
“Because I’ve discovered another dream I’d like better,” he said. “And that’s to be with you.”
A low sigh escaped Aqua. She turned her head down immediately, hiding her reaction from Terra’s anxious gaze. Her fingers fidgeted in his, causing his heart to pound all the more wildly.
“I’m...always with you, Terra. And I always will be.”
“No, I know that, but what I meant was—”
“It’s never good to wish for what’s not meant to be. You can’t change the past, Terra, but instead you can make the best of your future.”
Terra shifted abruptly. “But what if that’s not good enough?”
Aqua lifted her head then, her expression holding one of deep compassion. “Then you’ll have to make it be.”
Those words spoken by Aqua rang through his head, up till that very day, and yet he always found himself longing for things that weren’t meant to be. He dwelt on the very things he couldn’t change, but dreams if only he could. There were many regrets he made in his past, yet they were untouchable from where he stood.
Aqua, his most beloved friend, and Ven, the kid brother he never had. He let them both down when he should’ve protected them.
Out of the few things he could remember, he knew it was his fault that Aqua was trapped in the Realm of Darkness. For how long she’d stayed there, he didn’t know, nor did he know how long she would remain. Ventus disappeared from the face of the worlds long before Xehanort lost his grip on him. While he was uncertain of Ven’s fate, death was the most probable. It pained him to no end that he failed them both, which was why he felt the urge to remind himself every day that he stood before Castle Oblivion, in the remains of the only home he once had that he shared with the people he loved.
Nothing can bring them back, Terra thought bitterly. But, if only there was a way, no matter the cost, I would do it without a second thought.
He left the everlasting darkness of the portal behind to enter a new form of darkness, one that enveloped him from every direction. From the black sky, free from a single star, to the vacant, decrepit land, it was hard for him to imagine that this was where his home once stood.
Home... A place so very nonexistent to him now. Ever since the destruction of The Land of Departure, he’d struggled—and failed—to find a place worthy of granting such a title. Home was with Master Eraqus, the man he once regarded as a father, or Aqua, the woman he grew up with and cherished. But now that both of them were gone, he was left with nothing. Nothing but the remaining fragments of darkness in his heart and the forgotten lands that once held promises. If only, he would think to himself frequently, I hadn’t succumbed to the darkness, none of this would’ve happened. The painful truth of this, however, was that it had. He had succumbed to it. And nothing that he ever did could change that.
The building that stood before him now gleamed with an eery light, one that greatly contrasted with its bleak surroundings. It stood as tall as he remembered, otherwise it was unrecognizable. The colored roofs had been transformed to bricks of solid teal; the walls lost the radiance they once possessed. Torn fragments of the building remained forgotten towers upon the ground, collecting debris and wear from the poor conditions they endured. Had this menacing castle not stood where his home once had, he would’ve thought it impossible that it were the very same. While he didn’t dare enter the castle after his initial visit, he recalled the interior being further from recognition. Stark white greeted him wherever his gaze would fall, and every door would lead to the very same location, until the very castle threatened to consume him. Castle Oblivion it was once called, by whom he didn’t remember. Many things happened during Xehanort’s claim of his body. Some incidents were vivid to him, others were but shadowed fragments. Sometimes he thought it was best that way.
Sometimes, but not always.
Sometimes, as he did that very night, he’d sit on the steps leading to the castle, staring at the bleak sky beyond. His cobalt-blue eyes would search, yet they would retrieve nothing. No comfort, no wisdom, no advice... Nothing could be sought from his sittings, yet he proceeded to partake in them. Sometimes he’d do it once a week, other times it’d be every few months. The past week he’d frequented the lands every night, when the hour would grow late and sleep would evade him. He’d sit, watching the sky, searching for answers. And, sometimes, he’d search for alternatives. What ifs, he’d call them. What if he hadn’t fallen prey to Xehanort? Would Master Eraqus still be alive? What if he’d obeyed Aqua, would she still be by his side? These thoughts tormented his very soul until he could stand it no longer, yet he did nothing to end his suffering. Sometimes he felt it was the least he could do, for all those whose destructions were brought...because of him.
That night was no different than all of the others. He leaned back against the wall, the stone cutting into the tender skin on his neck, yet he didn’t bother to move. His gaze remained fixated upon the black sky, which was filled with an odd haze that he’d yet to see present within all his evenings there. Thoughts of his various travels ran through his mind, particularly the days when he’d been innocently searching for Xehanort. Those days he’d made the worst mistakes possible; he knew that now. Hindsight was always 20/20, unfortunately, and there was no way to see the future until it had already come to pass. But, he continued to think, if only I’d known...
Now that he sat there and thought about it, there were a lot of things he’d wished he’d only known. Perhaps he was purely arrogant, but he’d been notorious for heeding the advice of others. He’d always shrugged off simple advice from Eraqus, whether it be to put a jacket on or arrive fifteen minutes early. Aqua frequently nagged at him to organize, yet--perhaps out of willful disobedience--he’d leave his belongings in a complete disarray. He’d never forget the time that Ventus begged to join him the day he left their home, and he’d declined. If only I’d let him, he thought idly, would he still be with me today?
Silence has a way of weighing down on a person, as it began to on him. The torture that the silence whispered combined with that of which the darkness displayed became too much for him. Finally he stood, taking several paces away from the castle before standing back to examine it. It towered before him with such a menacing aura, as though it mocked him in his predicament. A hot tear shimmered down his cool cheek. Being in a bad predicament was one thing, but being powerless to do anything about it was another. Being helpless wasn’t something he was accustomed to and, sadly, he wasn’t adjusting to it kindly.
His melancholy thoughts halted upon a single sting on the back of his neck. At first he thought it was merely his imagination, until he saw it: a shimmering white speck that fell from the sky. He extended a gloved hand to catch the sparkling object, which proved to be exactly what he’d presumed: a snowflake.
A snowflake... How very long it’d been since he’d seen one. The Land of Departure only received a snowfall one other night; a night that had taken place so very long ago. Sadly, he wasn’t sure how much time had lapsed since then. Gauging by the changes the world had seen, he could only assume it’d been a lifetime ago. He remembered it, however, as though it were only last year. That night when he and a dear friend sat outside their home, marveling at the winter wonderland that surrounded them.
“It’s cold!” she had said, bringing herself up on the brick wall to sit beside him. Snowflakes burrowed themselves into her slate-blue hair, complementing it in ways that he could not. A smile stretched thin on his lips as he attempted to dust off a seat for her, yet it affected the snow-covered seat very little.
“What’d you expect, Aqua? It’s cold outside, so of course snow’s going to be cold.” He grinned at her in a teasing manner. “Besides, haven’t you ever heard of ice?”
“Oh, stop it, you,” she chided, returning his playful mannerism by smacking him tenderly across the upper arm. The two stopped their friendly banter as their gaze turned towards the world at large. Never had they seen it as beautiful as it was then. The rooftops were coated in a thick layer of white, one so plush that it looked heavenly to sink into. White specks of snow continued to float down from the frosty sky above. And, for once, the millions of stars were hidden from view due to the thick fog that concealed them. Colorful lights had been strung around buildings to represent the holidays approaching, yet him and Aqua never, not once in their lifetime, had seen snow compliment such decor. True, he’d seen pictures of holiday lights strung around snow-covered trees, but it wasn’t the same in a photograph as it was in real life. There was something so...euphoric about the sight, something that neither teen could voice.
“Terra?” Aqua’s voice was tentative as she turned a sideward gaze in his direction. “Just suppose we had more snowfalls like this, do you think we’d still consider them so--”
“Perfect?” he interjected. Aqua nodded, her deep-blue eyes fixated on him. Terra shrugged. “I can’t really say for sure. I’d hope so, but I don’t know.”
“Wait until we show Ven in the morning,” she said softly. “He’ll be too shocked for words.”
“Maybe, but maybe not,” Terra replied. “He didn’t grow up here, so who knows if he’s ever seen snow before.”
It was true. Ventus was like a kid brother to them, yet they knew so little of his past. They weren’t even sure where he came from. In all likeliness, snow would’ve come as no unordinary thing to the boy, but instead something he’d seen all his life. No, this was a unique moment for Terra and Aqua alone, their first snowfall in their entire lives. Every time he’d traveled abroad to other worlds, Terra silently hoped he’d encounter snow. Each time he left with disappointment, to the point that he’d figured it wasn’t in his destiny to ever see the legendary frozen liquid. That night his destiny changed, as he sat there with his best friend and watched snow fall upon their home.
“I used to think it was strange,” Terra murmured faintly, “that people would play in the snow. I mean, snow angels? Seriously?”
A knowing smile formed upon Aqua’s tender lips as her eyes lit up warmly. “But it makes sense now, doesn’t it?”
Terra nodded silently, his gaze darting nervously from hers towards the snow haven before them. “It does.”
In barely a blink, the blue-haired woman was up on her feet, rubbing her gloved palms together. A multicolored scarf wrapped snugly around her neck, framing her flushed cheeks with her hair adorably. “Well, what are you waiting for, Terra?”
A frown creased his brows, which only seemed to humor his friend. Finally he rose.
“I don’t get it,” he said finally. “Waiting for...?”
“Well, I figured you brought up the snow angels because you wanted to make one yourself,” she said. “So...let’s go.”
His gaze traveled over his friend, wondering what ever managed to come over her. “You’re not...serious. I mean, you wouldn’t really...”
Aqua’s contagious laughter rang through the night and across the open yard. She grasped his hands and pulled him along. “What, make snow angels? Why wouldn’t I? I, unlike you Terra, am not afraid of making a fool of myself and hurting my ego.”
And she left him standing there to ponder her words as she threw herself down on her back, into a thick blanket of snow. It chilled her to the bone, yet nothing could replace the smile planted on her face. The brunet man crossed his arms and watched her.
“I don’t have an ego like that,” he retorted. “It’s just that...well...”
“Whatever you say, Terra,” Aqua murmured, closing her eyes. From where he stood the woman looked ridiculous, smiling as she lay half-frozen and flapping her arms and legs, resembling a child throwing a tantrum. Whether it was because he wanted to defend his ego, or get into the snow—or both—he didn’t know, but after mere moments he found himself sprawled alongside his friend. The cold snow tickled his exposed neck and soaked into his canvas pants, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t recall a time where he’d had more fun.
So, there they were, the two apprentices to Master Eraqus, playing in the snow like young children. They were very much children at heart, despite their growing up in the world of many worlds. For the first time in a very long while, Terra managed to forget the Keyblade. He was able to forget the realms of light and darkness, and the challenges that Master Eraqus ordained for them. For one brief moment it was just them, the way Terra always dreamed it could be.
If only things had gone differently.
But, of course, they hadn’t. He’d chosen this path, as had Aqua. There were numerous times that they’d gotten in fights along the way. Small insignificant quarrels that resulted in none other than their Keyblades and beliefs. Aqua had insisted that two Keyblades were too much for one friendship, though Terra chose to believe it wasn’t. He’d always thought compromises could be made, and their differences could mend. Over the years, particularly when Ven drifted into their lives, he’d noticed their gradual distance, one that unnerved him greatly. For years Aqua had been there, simply a finger’s breadth away, but now it seemed that she was entirely unattainable. The distance was unintentional, but there nonetheless. If only I could go back and fix my mistakes, Terra always thought, we wouldn’t have drifted apart, and she would’ve been mine.
It was something Terra refused to admit aloud, and perhaps something he’d never fully admitted to himself. But, he always partly wondered had things gone differently, had he not been an apprentice to Master Eraqus, if their relationship would’ve changed. He’d known Aqua since childhood; the two had watched each other change and grow. He watched Aqua as she learned to paint magnificent canvases, as did she watch when he learned to speak three foreign tongues. Together their strengths magnified, either with complimentary or aid of the other. A bond was created between the two that not even the strongest of blades could sever, yet Terra always was baffled by what it really meant. Was she merely his best friend, whom he’d do anything to protect, or perhaps something more? Was there some other spark, one that he’d failed to notice? He didn’t know, and from the way Aqua responded to him, it was unlikely he ever would. At times her teasing would seem flirtatious, while other times it was merely a reminder of what they once had as children. It was something he always questioned—at least subconsciously.
Time lapsed longer than he’d realized when he found Aqua staring down at him, bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle laughter. Her eyes crinkled with joy, and he could tell she probably felt the same as he did.
“So, you really did break your ego,” she uttered in barely more than a whisper.
“That, or I never had one to begin with. Isn’t that a possibility?” he mocked.
The blue-haired woman brought a hand to her chin, contemplating his words before finally shaking her head. “No, I don’t think so. You can’t pretend I don’t know you, Terra, and even if you’re one of the least arrogant people I know, you still are to a degree.”
“Hey, now!” Terra said warningly. “You take that back!”
Aqua tilted her head to the side, in a gesture that brought out her simplest elegant features. “And if I don’t? What then, Terra?”
“You’ll pay dearly for it.”
A hollow laugh emitted from the woman, before she slowly turned her back to him. Underestimating Terra wasn’t generally a wise move, and this time proved to be no exception. Before Aqua could determine what hit her, something hard and cold hit her in the back of her head. It disintegrated upon impact. She ran her gloved fingers through her hair, finding fresh snow flecks at the site of the infliction. She spun on her heels to shoot a look at her friend, who stood behind her, fresh snowball in hand and ready to strike at any moment.
“Don’t—” she began, but was unable to get the rest of her words out. The snowball from his hand went hurling into the air, hitting her in the shoulder before she could move fully out of harm’s way. An all too familiar chuckle sounded from the brunet, who whipped up another snowball as fast as Aqua blinked.
“Care for another, my dear friend?” he asked sardonically, his tone playful.
“Oh, no you don’t!”
“Just watch me!”
Aqua let out a squeal as she darted down the snow-covered walk. The chase was on. Cold air stung her face and lungs, her frozen joints revolting against their quick movement. She shot a glance over her shoulder, but Terra wasn’t relenting. It was a blessing that she could outrun him, but she also knew that she’d tire out quicker; it was only a matter of time.
Her arms and legs pumped faster. Terra was still hot in pursuit. There weren’t many options remaining for Aqua, yet she chose to brave one. She slipped behind a brick wall, packed the quickest, largest snowball she could, and blindly threw. It hit him in the most unlikely place, and afterward Aqua couldn’t stop apologizing. It certainly caught him off-guard, and made him stop all too quickly in his tracks.
“Terra, really,” Aqua began once more, “I didn’t realize—I wasn’t looking where I threw—I mean—”
“You mean to say you didn’t aim for my face,” Terra finished for her, his voice filled with disbelief. “I wholeheartedly believe you, Aqua. Really, I do.”
At this, the female Keyblade apprentice scowled. She took a step forward and brushed snow gently from his brow. “Yes, that is what I’m saying. And it’s your own problem if you don’t believe me.”
They were close, closer than they’d been in a very long time—and not merely physically. Terra surveyed her face carefully. He never recalled how much her blue eyes shimmered in moonlight, nor how elegantly pointed her face was. Her cheeks were more colored than usual, whether it be from cold or embarrassment he was uncertain. Nor did he care. She was his Aqua, regardless of what their fates had in store for them. Gently, he brushed snow from her bangs.
“If only you could change your past,” he began, in a tone barely more than a whisper against her face. “Anything about it, what would it be?”
Her expression remained unchanged. Snow proceeded to fall in sheets between, on and around them, perhaps heavier than it’d fallen all evening. Finally her lips parted, in words that he couldn’t have predicted.
“I would’ve chosen not to wield a Keyblade, but only because I’ve learned one in a friendship is plenty.”
Confusion must’ve been apparent on his face, for she continued to add, “I know you don’t agree, but it’s drawn a barrier between us. Between you and Ven.”
This wasn’t necessarily a conversation he wished to be having, yet he found no possible way to buy out of it. “You’re right, I don’t agree. There’s plenty of room for Keyblade wielders.”
Aqua silently bit her lip, nodding without uttering another word. The nod wasn’t in assent; Terra knew her well enough to understand that. Instead it was a nod of surrender, because she chose not to battle him.
As we have more than enough this past year, he thought irritably.
For a long while the two strolled silently, further down the path that led into town. The Land of Departure was a small world in comparison to many, yet it offered almost any pleasure the two desired. Brilliant sunsets, a shoreline, a lake, and a beautiful night sky filled with every star in existence. It was said that each star represented a world, yet Terra found it hard to imagine that so many worlds existed.
Silently, almost as in apology, Aqua slipped her hand into his. He squeezed it in return, affirming that everything was alright. He was never truly mad at her, never could be. Aqua had a way of mending other people’s faults, something that sickened him every time he thought about it. There were too many times, he felt, that he took advantage of her kindness without an ounce of gratitude. He prayed that she knew him well enough to understand how he felt, but, particularly as of late, he was uncertain.
The two finally found themselves standing before the lake. The surface didn’t ripple, not even with the falling snow nor the breeze-scattered leaves. It took Terra a moment to realize it was frozen stiff, and probably would remain so until the brutality of the cold decided to relent.
“How long has it been this way?” he asked faintly.
Aqua knelt down beside the lake, resting two fingers against the thick layer of white ice. “For two weeks. Ven’s been practicing his skating, have you not noticed?”
Guilt seized him. He hadn’t noticed. And he hated to imagine how much time might’ve lapsed before he finally did. He brought his fists to his side in an attempt to keep them from shaking.
“I’m sorry, Aqua. I’ve been...”
“Preoccupied. I know.”
Before he could utter another word, he felt her arm wrap around his shoulders.
“It’s alright, we understand. You out of us all have the most pressure under the Master, and I know he’s always laid more of a burden on you,” she soothed.
“No”—Terra shook his head violently, snow falling generously from his hair—”I’ve screwed up. I’m not there for you and Ven like I should be. I’m...sorry, Aqua. Forgive—”
Before he could finish, Aqua silenced him with a “shhh” and brought her fingers to his lips.
“Let it go,” she said. “At least for tonight, let it all go.”
She took a large step onto the ice, holding onto Terra for balance. Once both of her feet were firmly rooted in place she released her grip, sliding her hands into his.
“Let it go, Terra. Please.”
The tension her hands offered strengthened, pulling him closer to the edge of the frozen lake. Before placing his weight on the icy surface, he muttered softly, “Is it safe?”
“Ven’s been skating on it for days. I would assume it is.” Her sparking eyes turned imploringly up towards his. “Dance once with me?”
He didn’t care to admit this often, but he couldn’t dance. Nor could Aqua, for that matter, but he figured that exquisite dance moves wasn’t what she had in mind. Of course, he couldn’t reject Aqua anything that was within his power, as a single dance certainly was.
“I’d dance all night with you,” was his reply.
Hand in hand, the two began to slowly circle around the ice, in a waltz that was missing virtually every step. Silence rang out louder than words to them both, yet neither knew of a way to break it. Their hearts uttered words that died in their throats, that never made it out for either to hear. Terra’s hands grew clammy, and he was suddenly grateful for his gloves. Only their exposed fingers would briefly touch, both too numb from the cold to truly feel anything.
After several laps that felt like one hundred around the lake, Aqua gently rested her head against his chest. His heart beat furiously under her, which he had no doubt she could hear. He could only hope hers was beating almost as rapidly, but for reasons unfathomable he slightly doubted it.
“Do you want to know what I would’ve changed?” he asked, breaking the silence that threatened to succumb them should it have lasted a moment longer.
She turned her head up to face him, without moving from her comforted position. No words came from her, which prompted him to continue.
“I...wouldn’t have wielded a Keyblade either.”
She didn’t gasp nor make a sound, but instead her brows creased with concern. Her eyes fixated unblinkingly from his, making him feel as though his mind were being read. Luckily, Keyblade wielders didn’t have such an ability.
“But, why wouldn’t you?” Aqua asked. “Your one and only dream was to become a Keyblade Master, so why wouldn’t you want to—”
“Because I’ve discovered another dream I’d like better,” he said. “And that’s to be with you.”
A low sigh escaped Aqua. She turned her head down immediately, hiding her reaction from Terra’s anxious gaze. Her fingers fidgeted in his, causing his heart to pound all the more wildly.
“I’m...always with you, Terra. And I always will be.”
“No, I know that, but what I meant was—”
“It’s never good to wish for what’s not meant to be. You can’t change the past, Terra, but instead you can make the best of your future.”
Terra shifted abruptly. “But what if that’s not good enough?”
Aqua lifted her head then, her expression holding one of deep compassion. “Then you’ll have to make it be.”
Those words spoken by Aqua rang through his head, up till that very day, and yet he always found himself longing for things that weren’t meant to be. He dwelt on the very things he couldn’t change, but dreams if only he could. There were many regrets he made in his past, yet they were untouchable from where he stood.
Aqua, his most beloved friend, and Ven, the kid brother he never had. He let them both down when he should’ve protected them.
Out of the few things he could remember, he knew it was his fault that Aqua was trapped in the Realm of Darkness. For how long she’d stayed there, he didn’t know, nor did he know how long she would remain. Ventus disappeared from the face of the worlds long before Xehanort lost his grip on him. While he was uncertain of Ven’s fate, death was the most probable. It pained him to no end that he failed them both, which was why he felt the urge to remind himself every day that he stood before Castle Oblivion, in the remains of the only home he once had that he shared with the people he loved.
Nothing can bring them back, Terra thought bitterly. But, if only there was a way, no matter the cost, I would do it without a second thought.