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Blue Ghost	By : TasogareNoRaikou Category: Kingdom Hearts > Slash/Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1034 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts I or II; I just use the characters in my fics! I don't write for money, just for fun.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter One: Aoi Yuurei
- 1
Blue Ghost

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts I or II; I just use the characters in my fics! I DO own the plot/storyline, original characters, and the names of the clans and places tho so back off! -bites- Mine!

Warnings: Yaoi, violence, death…

Spoilers: I use KH2 charries, if you have not played KH2 you might wanna go do that.

Pairings: ??? (Not telling yet!)

Plot: Roxas doesn’t know who he is. He has no memory of anything prior to waking up bleeding and near death outside of a small burning village. Who are the people who attacked him? Why can he control blue fire? Who is the blonde girl that haunts his thoughts? Roxas must remember his past and become the person he was destined to be, but it’s going to be hard to do with his innate sense of justice and the land falling into chaos.

Note! All strange names, pronunciations, etc will be explained in the after-word so if you’re wondering about a certain fruit or village scroll down to the bottom! Thank you!

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The ground shook, his eyes snapping open and taking in the blurred space around him. Head throbbing, arms shaking as he tried to push himself up, he collapsed back to the ground as pain seared up his spine like wildfire. Where am I? What’s happening, I don’t understand… Thoughts flashed through his mind and faded a quickly as they came, eyes darting back and forth from shaking trees and running figures, then settling on a lump nearby. It was a body. Panicking at the sight he tried to push himself up again, push himself away from the sight; push himself away from the explosions and people and chaos happening all around him. Bright red light whizzed past his left shoulder, hitting the side of a nearby hill and blasting away a large chunk of earth before the land burst it into flame. That’s impossible … Turning to look over his shoulder he searched for the source of the strange light but saw no one, only burning buildings lining the hillside. Women were screaming, babies crying, bodies strewn around the bases of the flaming structures as others still alive fled. He lay there wounded and bleeding into the broken land, and with one final attempt to lift himself he succeeded in sending another searing jolt through his body. His mind blacked out from the pain.
--x--
Cold and silent, the night air barely howled through the smoldering frames of the houses nearby. Damp, bloody earth bitter on his tongue, he lifted his face from the dirt and spit, looking around with bleary eyes. Where…? His mind, which had raced with questions before, was now slow and fuzzy as a result of his wounds. Carefully he reached back, ghosting fingertips down his side until he felt what was, undoubtedly, blood soaking into his shirt. He was still bleeding and it was hours past the burning light of day in which he had awoken before. He was weak and growing steadily weaker with each passing moment. Time was fading fast.
Something clicked in the back of his mind, warmth flowing through his veins like liquid silver, starting deep in his chest before fanning out to his shoulder then down his arm. His back prickled, like being poked with a needle ever-so-slightly, and that feeling spread into a diamond-like shape across his side, back, and spine. He looked back, trying to see exactly what he was doing to himself, but all he could make out was the brilliant blue light emitting from his hand and spreading outwards in a spherical glow.
The longer he held his hand over his wound the less prickly his back felt, and the more his vision cleared and he felt his strength return. Thoughts of why he hadn’t done this before if he could have wandered around his mind momentarily before burying themselves. He was wounded; the initial shock of it must have made him forget. He remembered now, and that was all that mattered. He brought his arm back to its original position and turned his palm over to watch that light fade, then after a few long moments tried to push up off of the ground. This time he succeeded, shakily righting himself into a sitting position and surveying the damage around him. The wind howled, swaying the trees towering above him, a hollow, eerie sound that sent a shiver down his spine. Or perhaps it was the cold air chilling his damp skin that made him shiver, but either way he was in dire need of new clothes, a hot bath, and a place to safely rest. He didn’t know where he was or why he was here, but before he could figure all of that out he needed to see if he could get to his feet.
Twisting so he could push up with one hand and lifting the other arm for balance he shoved himself up from the red-dyed earth, vertigo filling his senses. Unsteadily, legs trembling slightly from exertion, he took a step forward towards a nearby tree, barely reaching it before he needed its support in order to stand. Nausea washed over him then passed; when was the last time he had eaten something? His mind was a jumbled series of bits and pieces he had no way of arranging at the present time. No matter, if he could find hot water and a place to stay there would certainly be food as well. Readying himself for another attempt at walking he stepped away from the tree, following a foot-path through the weeds leading away from the burned houses. It led down a slight incline across dark grassland. There were no trees to help him stand, but he knew somehow he had to make it across. He didn’t know what lay beyond the tall grass and open sky, but something called him there; an unseen guide leading him onward. He would follow it, for though he didn’t know where he was or where he was going he knew to listen to his instincts. He put one foot in front of the other and began to walk across the long, wide span of grassland.

-xx-xx::XOX::xx-xx-

“What do you mean you don’t know? You came here for a reason now tell us the truth!”
Cornered in the back streets of the town where he had rested for the past few days, the boy let his vision flit between his pursuers. “I am telling the truth, I don’t know.”
“He’s a spy, I saw him watching the guards train in the fields yesterday and today. He wanders around the town and watches everything that happens as if he’s trying to keep it all memorized!”
“I’ve seen him watching Maggi and Trisa at the spring; he knows they’re the head-chief’s granddaughters…”
“He could be scouting out our location to tell the clan that set fire to the village he came from!”
“…his granddaughters would make perfect hostages; he would have the chief by his throat…”
“Enough!” He shouted while throwing an arm out to the side, palm facing upward, preparing to face the four boys keeping him trapped. The back street they were in stemmed from the open streets leading into the main part of the village. If he could make it into the market he’d be able to lose them for sure, so he either needed to knock one down and keep running or fight them all where no one could witness. Either way, he wasn’t going to stand around and listen to their false accusations and suspicions any longer. “I have done nothing to warrant any sort of this behavior. I’ve been nothing but a thankful guest since I’ve been here and do not deserve your judgment or scrutiny. Now let me pass!”
The villagers before him exchanged glances then turned back to him with smirks and righteous grins. Sighing under his breath and feeling that familiar quicksilver begin to coarse through his veins; he stood his ground as they rushed in and attacked.
--x--
Panting, he let himself into the safety of his corridor and shut the door softly, pressing his back against the wood and letting his head fall. He had to leave before they regained consciousness or someone discovered them, he wouldn’t have long to pack his things and run. Moving from the door to fetch a large satchel from beneath his bed he immediately began rifling through drawers and sweeping things off of the top of his table. He had bought clothes, parchment and ink, several different varieties of herbs in small draw-string pouches, and food with the money he had discovered in his pockets when he arrived. The large satchel he was stuffing his possessions into had been given to him when he had made such a large purchase, complements of the shopkeeper. The boy was ever grateful for it now.
Stopping for a moment to catch his breath his eyes darted across the room. That should be everything, he thought to himself, there should be just enough time to take a quick bath…
He drew the hot water, letting it run as he went to the windows and searched for any strange occurrences happening outside. When finding none he returned to the bath, quickly stripping and sliding into the hot water, dunking his head into the steaming pool and grabbing the bath soaps from the shelf above him. He lathered a mixture into his hands and washed his hair, his face, and his body before dunking under the water again and rinsing thoroughly. He stepped from the bath and grabbed a clean drying cloth from the cabinet, toweling himself off quickly and striding across the room to the closet. He pulled out a pair of clean undergarments, pale-blue leggings, and an off-white tunic that the host left available for guests to make use of. He dressed himself, slid on his thick leather boots and shrugged into his coat while walking back to the bathroom to fetch the clothes he had discarded before. He could wash them later; he needed to make use of all his resources and an extra pair of clothing might come in handy further down the road.
He slung his satchel over his shoulder and neck, sliding the bulk of the pack to rest against the opposite hip, and left the house heading directly towards the market. They would be awake sooner if not later, and he knew his former quarters would be the first place they searched. Amongst the flow of people in the market he could fade into one of the many faces in the crowd. That was his theory, anyway.
As he entered the market the noise hit him like a wave, buzzing through his ears like a hive of honey gatherers swarming over a meadow. Mothers chatted together; children ran and played amongst their skirts, a small dog barking somewhere near their feet. He swayed through their motions, one of the women looking over at him and smiling. “Hello there,” she called, “Good day to you, traveler!”
“And to you as well, madam.” He said in passing, dipping his head for a moment and sending the group of women into tittering giggles. He turned from them and delved deeper in the crowd. Where the things that came so naturally to him really that foreign here? Ever since he arrived the women had seemed flattered and the men suspicious. Perhaps more than anything, it was his looks that caused people to react to him the way they did. The people here were tanned with reddish brown to dark brown hair, they were tall and rather plump, the women especially so. It made them seem more motherly, their round, rosy cheeks and deep-set dimples, along with their wavy auburn hair. It only succeeded in making the men look fiercer. The four that had cornered him earlier had only been half a decade or so older, but already they were taking on the features of the grown men in the town. He was nothing like them.
“How’s the village wanderer today?” A crackling voice asked as he passed a shopkeeper, the boy turning to meet eyes with an old woman.
“Leaving, I’m afraid.” He said, dipping his head slightly. “Thank you for the herbs; they were just what I needed.”
The crone laughed softly, folding her hands together atop her twisted cane. “I have something else you might like. Come, let me show you.”
He looked back towards the place he was running from, looking for any warning signs. His gut was telling him to run as fast as he cold and as inconspicuously as possible, his senses on high alert. Turning to watch the woman retreat inside, he replied, “I don’t really-”
“Come now, I know you’ll like it.” She called, walking slowly towards the back of her shop.
With a sigh he left the streets and followed her, the heavy scent of mixed herbs thickening the air. He followed her behind a hanging curtain, looking up once he had passed beneath the heavy drape and startling himself when he met eyes with a boy. Brilliant blue eyes stared back at him, golden-blonde hair passing just barely over his eyes and sitting ruffled upon his head in feathered locks, his skin pale as alabaster. He reached a hand up, fingertips meeting not the boy before him but cool, smooth glass. “What is it?” he asked breathlessly, the crone watching him silently.
“It’s called a “mirror”. My sister brought it to me, late last night from the traveling caravan.” A smile twisted her wrinkled face. “They’re rare, made through a special chemical and heating process. Beautiful, isn’t it?”
The boy slid his hand up, watching the other boy do the same, mimicking his every move. “This…this is me?”
The old woman laughed; a sharp, cackling sound. “You’ve never seen your reflection?”
He shook his head. “Or if I have I don’t remember…”
The crone stopped crowing after a moment, turning her back to him and sifting through her many shelves until she found a small wooden box, blowing the dust from the top as she turned to the boy. “I want you to have this.” She said while sliding the lid off of the box, offering its contents to the boy.
He reached inside the cloth-lined box, pulling out a large prismatic crystal tinted blue. It dangled from a long silver chain. He traced his thumb over the crystal thoughtfully, looking back to the old woman. Not quite sure what to say, he reverently offered, “Thank you.”
“Roxas.”
The boy looked at her in confusion, waiting for her to continue.
She searched his eyes, seeming to peer into his soul. “You’ve never told me your name, but somehow I know that it’s Roxas.” The woman watched him expectantly, as if waiting for the boy to affirm her words.
“Roxas…” He said, more to himself than her. It had a ring to it, he wasn’t sure if it was his real name or not, but he had nothing else to call himself by. “Yes, that’s my name. I’m Roxas.”
“Good, then I want you to go now and take care of yourself in your travels, young Roxas.” She reached a hand towards his and cupped his palm over the crystal. “I have a feeling this will help you someday. Keep it close to you.”
Roxas nodded, watching her movements, trying to see into her as she could so easily see into him. She smiled and chuckled lightly, then shooed him away. He turned and walked towards the front of the shop, slipping the chain around his neck and tucking the crystal beneath his shirt. Now, to get out of town before he was caught. He glanced back one last time then merged into the crowd. He never saw the old woman again.

-xx-xx::XOX::xx-xx-

The sky was turning different hues of orange and pink as the sun set, cicadas crying and frogs croaking loudly around the small pond Roxas had stopped beside to rest. Letting his satchel slide from his shoulder he crouched down beside it, fetching a large hunting knife and heading towards the thicket nearby. He needed to make a fire before it got too late, he didn’t know what might come out of the woods once the sky turned dark. Gathering a large armful of timber and cutting a chunk of bark off of a fat green-skinned tree with his knife, he collected his supplies and returned to the pond. He assembled the kindling in tipi form, sliding smaller pieces of wood and the bark in the middle, and then returned to his pack to put away his knife and fetch his flint stones. A few minutes later the fire was burning brightly, glowing embers flitting through the air across the small pond before dissipating atop the water. Roxas cleared the area around the base of the fire, piling up dirt in a ring around the blaze to make sure it didn’t spread.
Sighing and sitting down cross-legged on a bed of thick moss, the boy reached over and pulled his pack to him, digging through it until his fingertips met the skin of a fruit. What had the fruit-stand woman called it, a Ma-Muang? The skin was a deep green, smooth and soft in its ripeness. He reached again; retrieving his knife and slicing the fruit open, removing the large oval pit from the center then laying it and his knife aside to wash later. The inside of the Ma-Muang was a vibrant yellow-orange color, the boy bringing half of the fruit to his mouth and taking a large bite. It was sweet and sour, juice running down the corner of his mouth as he chewed and swallowed. He ate his meal in silence, watching the fire and listening to the movements of the forest in the fading daylight. Stars were already visible high in the darker parts of the sky.
He let his eyes wander, thinking about the things that had perspired since he awoke in the chaos of the village under siege. It was something he wondered about every night, knowing when he eventually decided to sleep those stabbing dreams would haunt him. He could feel everything so vividly in his dreams; the pain, the ground rising up to meet him, the air flying out of his lungs in surprise. Someone had attacked him, someone had stabbed him literally in the back but it hadn’t been a normal wound. Maybe whoever it was had attacked him using their own type of magic, something like the deadly red light he’d seen ignite the hillside. That power was so unlike his flowing blue, it brought chaos and death. He couldn’t imagine using his powers to kill people, though he did understand the need to use his talents in a fight. Knocking people unconscious was all he’d dared to do so far, but he could feel that silver burn in his veins with a force he had yet to unleash. It scared him, the things he knew he could do. Things he hoped he would never have to do again.
Though he couldn’t remember exactly when he had used his powers to fight he remembered what it felt like, he remembered the flow of energy rushing through his hands and the static in the back of his mind. He remembered the crack of thunder and the lightning on his fingertips. Of all the things he couldn’t remember using his light was something he did recall intensely. He wished more than anything he could remember more, but no matter how hard he tried to push his thoughts back further than his current memory he failed. There was no one, no voices of the past haunting him, no images of home, friends, or family. There was only an endless void wrapped in pain. Frustrated he set the second half of the fruit aside, swallowing the bite he had taken a moment before, and stood to his feet. He grabbed his knife and the pit of the Ma-Muang and walked to the edge of the pond, dipping his hands below water to wash the juice from his blade and clean the surface of the fruit’s pit. He would save it; he might need it for something later.
When he returned he dried his knife on a cloth in his bag then returned it to its leather sheath, clasping it in place with a strap around the handle. The pit was placed in a pouch full of other various seeds, the result of the different fruits he had tried while he’d been staying in the last town. Everything had a purpose, and he knew better than to merely cast something aside or throw it away without meaning. Seeds were good; they brought life and nourishment to the earth. Perhaps someday he would plant them and years from now they would reach far above him towards the sky. Someday…but not today.
He sat down beside the fire once more, crossing his legs and exhaling while resting his arms on his thighs. He clasped his hands over his kneecaps and breathed in deep, closing his eyes and focusing on the environment around him. Various animals were watching from the darkness; he could feel their eyes, sense their breath, but they weren’t threatening. He’d noticed several deer on the far side of the pond earlier taking hesitant drinks and watching him eat. They were curious a nothing more. He should be able to sleep easy without worrying about a hungry predator attacking him before dawn.
Finishing the other half of his fruit, he checked the fire one last time then pulled his jacket tightly around him and lay down, using his arm as a makeshift pillow. He watched the burning wood at the base of the fire for a long time, listening to the woods and trying to put his thoughts at ease. He hated sleeping, he hated that cold that washed over him as he slipped into unconsciousness, and he hated those pain-filled dreams. What did they mean, why couldn’t he remember anything? Who was he? Where did he come from? What was his purpose, where was he supposed to go, what was he supposed to be doing? He felt hollow, empty, and meaningless. Dark thoughts clouded his mind as he finally succumbed to sleep.
--x--
He snapped up and turned to look behind him, eyes searching for the origin of the sound he’d just heard. There, again, it echoed through the woods and shook the earth in small tremors. Another attack like before, only much further away. It came not from the village he had visited but further ahead through the woods. He jumped to his feet quickly, kicking dirt over the dying fire and gathering up his things. Slinging his satchel over his shoulder he ran past the pond and into the forest. He couldn’t just stand by and allow to another town be destroyed, there had to be something he could do.
He followed the vibrations, jumping over puddles and fallen logs, slipping between trees and through the thicket. His heart was pounding in his ears, deafening all sense of direction and time. He didn’t know what he would do; he didn’t want to fight, he didn’t want to kill anyone, he didn’t want to get involved in a war that was not his own. Yet the more he thought about it the more he wondered; what if the village that had been burned was his village? What if these people had invaded his home, attacked him and his kinsmen, and left all of them for dead? The village in which he had awoken didn’t feel like his home, but because he didn’t know where he was from he couldn’t rule out the possibility. These people had killed women and children, they had burned livelihoods and homes, and they had deftly obliterated an entire town. Why? To what end? Where those people deserving of such a horrible fate? Were these attackers virtuous in their actions? Roxas didn’t know anything, he didn’t know what he was rushing into, he didn’t know who was right and who was wrong, but he knew for certain that no one else had the right to take anyone else’s life away. He had to help.
The woods ended abruptly to reveal a village nestled in the middle of a clearing, the outermost houses to the far left steadily being engulfed in flames. In front of the burning structures stood a group of figures dressed in black, a red light surrounding them in a reddish glow. People were screaming and running about, alerting neighbors and going towards the fires to see what exactly was happening. Roxas watched in horror as a father and son ran towards the front of the house and came to a surprised halt beside one of the black-clad figures. A bolt of red light hit the father, instantly knocking him to the group. As the son knelt at the man’s side the figure struck again, killing the boy in a flash of crimson. Roxas grit his teeth and ran towards the middle of the village; he had to warn them, had to make them understand that there was no other option but to run. As he passed the first house and turned the corner a woman ran smack into him, crying hysterically and clinging to him in panic.
“My baby! I can’t find my baby!”
“Where’s your house?” Roxas asked, looking up and watching several families run away from the fires.
“It’s on fire, it’s burning!” She cried desperately, sobbing and falling to her knees. “My baby, she’s burning!”
Roxas pulled her to her feet, leading her towards the center of the town where you could clearly see the houses burning at the entrance of the town. “Which house? Show me your house!”
“T-that one…” She said shakily, pointing towards the fires, “The one with the wooden fence, a-and the garden…”
The boy grabbed a boy about his age that was running by, fisting his shirt and saying sternly, “Take her and run to the forest!”
“But I-”
“Take her!” he ordered again, the other boy taking the woman’s hands and pulling her to his side.
The boy looked up and met his eyes in confusion, “What about you?”
Roxas shook his head, “Tell everyone you pass to run away from the fires, grab only their families and what they must take, and flee deep into the forest!” He pointed towards the other side of town, where the other villagers had been running, “Tell everyone, leave no one behind, and don’t look back!”
The boy hesitated only for a moment then took off running, pulling the woman along with him. “My baby!” she began crying again as he led her away. “My little girl!”
Roxas stood there in the street and watched until he was sure they were out of sight, several children running past him and following in the same direction, crying and screaming in despair. I can’t let them do this; I can’t just let her daughter die… His feet were moving before he had made up his mind.
The house was beautiful, a small double-story cottage with a pretty wooden fence surrounding it and flower baskets under the windowsills. Already the glass was cracking from the heat trapped inside, the fence on fire from the front and steadily wrapping around the sides. Roxas kicked in the back door, crossing his hands in front of his face as the initial heat rushed out of the house, then ducked under the dark smoke pouring out into open air and stepped inside. Already his lips were chapped and his brow sweating, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate despite the chaos around him. He had to find her, he couldn’t waste time searching; the fire was too rabidly spreading. His mind zoned in on something upstairs, a pulse fluttering wildly like a bird’s, and he ran to the stairs and followed them upstairs and to the right, smoke and heat stinging his eyes. One, two, three rooms later he was outside the door of the room his mind was leading him too. He felt the heat of the door and knew there was a fire beyond but so was an innocent girl in danger of suffocating and burning to death. He lifted his jacket to cover his face and kicked in the door sideways. The door slammed back against the wall and a child screamed, Roxas entering the room and quickly spotting a crying child huddled in the corner near her bed.
He went to her, pulling her into his arms and pushing her face into the crook of his arm. Fire was raging all around him, licking up the walls and making the whole house creak. Suddenly something blasted through the house and red light flashed from the hallway, and everything dipped to the right with a groan. They were still attacking the house; he had to get them out of harm’s way now.
The little girl, still just a toddler, was crying and clutching his tunic in her small hands, screaming for her mother. Roxas turned and walked back through the doorway, running down the hall and stopping at the top of the stairs. They had collapsed half-way down, fire searing up from the first floor with a heat so intense he knew they wouldn’t survive. He turned back, kicking open the first door in the hallway, then the second. Luckily the second room had a window. He went to it, knocking out the glass with an elbow and looking down towards the ground. There was a ledge between the first and second floor made out of stone, undoubtedly for decorative purposes, but it was just enough room for Roxas to turn his foot sideways and step out of the house into fresh air. He did so, balancing precariously along the ledge, holding the child against him with one arm and holding onto the rim of the window with the other. Could he jump down from this height? If he broke a leg could he heal it? Then he realized to the left near the fence were a series of large rosebushes.
He made his way towards them slowly, letting go of the windowsill and pressing back against the house. The toddler was squirming and crying, making it a constant struggle to remain balanced on the ledge, but after a few long moments he stepped from the ledge and twisted, falling backwards from the second story and landing in the rosebushes. He crawled from the middle of the large plants, checked his satchel and the little girl, and then ran through the garden and away from the burning house. He had to find her mother, but first he had to make it out of the village alive. The houses he passed as he ran through the streets were freshly ignited, the fire that had been confined to the left side of the town now engulfing it completely. Heat and ash were everywhere, Roxas dodging from house to house looking for the fire starters. The little girl was sobbing uncontrollably into his chest, holding on tightly as he continued through the streets. Finally he caught sight of the forest through the red-orange flames of the homes around him.
Panting, he ran towards the woods, arms wrapped around the toddler to hold her in place as he jumped over planks of fiery wood and the contents of a spilt vegetable cart. A structure collapsed into the streets before him, Roxas turning left and searching for another street in the direction he was running. There, between that house’s well and the log cabin… He turned down the narrow path, running past the flames, then gasped and stopped dead in his tracks as the line of houses ended and he re-entered the clearing between the village and the woods. Bodies lay everywhere.
His vision flashed blue, anger bubbling up inside of him. Monsters, how could they do something like this? The bodies of men and women of all ages lay broken on the ground; grandparents alongside grandchildren, mothers holding their babies, boys not old enough to fight dead and discarded on the bloody, charred earth. He took a deep breath, wrapped both arms around the child, and began making his way across the bodies. He watched every step, making sure he didn’t tread on any of the fallen, eyes glassing over in despair. So many were dead… Had the figures in black hunted the villagers down and killed them all before they reached the forest? Had anyone survived? Had the girl’s mother, and the boy he had sent her with…
Finally he crossed the last of the bodies and stepped into the shade of the trees, looking for any sign of human life hidden among the shadows, and that’s when he felt it. He felt the sharp, piercing heat of that red light streaking towards him, and he threw his arm up while turning to face the attack. A shield of blue light surrounded him mere milliseconds before the red fire slammed into it, shaking the ground and booming in his ears. The child screamed and began crying harder than before, Roxas throwing his arm down to his side and dissipating the fire and his shield, waiting for the smoke to clear so he could face his attacker.
The boy was dressed in a long black cloak, black gloves covering his hands, a shining red glow spiraling around them. His hood was up hiding his face and expression, but bright green eyes peered out of the darkness and locked with his blue. Neither boy spoke but the air crackled with the energy brewing between them, Roxas turning to where the child was behind him slightly incase there was another attack. The wind howled, the fires roared, and in an instant the fire-caster had moved so close to Roxas that he threw up another shield and stepped back, glaring up into those green eyes threateningly. “Back off.” The blonde said softly, holding his shield firmly in place while twisting his wrist and readying an attack of his own.
“You’re the Aoi Yuurei aren’t you.” The fire-starter said, more of a statement than a question.
“Aoi Yuurei?” Roxas asked, confused, palm twitching as he channeled his energy into the shield around him.
The boy reached up and laid back his hood, revealing long red layered spikes and black upside-down triangle tattoos on either of his high cheekbones. His green eyes were intense against his pale skin, and his gaze much too concentrated for Roxas’ comfort. “You channel blue fire, but all of the cold-blaze users are long dead.” He watched the older boy, something unsettling in his words as he listened to the red-head speak. “There are legends, tales passed down through the clans, about the son of the last chief surviving the clan’s destruction nearly two centuries ago. They called him the Aoi Yuurei.”
Two centuries ago… Something echoed in the back of his mind, something resurfacing from the darkness; a girl his age with golden hair and blue eyes. She was singing to herself, then looked up at him and smiled, taking his hand in hers. “Roxas~” She sang softly, laughing up at him.
He looked up at the boy before him, memories fading from his mind, saying darkly, “I don’t know the stories nor do I care. I want nothing to do with your kind.”
A quizzical expression planted itself on the older boy’s face. “You act like you don’t know what’s happening here. Our Prince was murdered by a member of the Eastern Sun. We told the clan to come out of hiding and face their punishment but they’re cowering in fear of retribution. We know they’re hiding somewhere along the south border so we’ve been ordered to go village to village and burn everything, killing the villagers to make an example out of what happens when you go up against the Crimson King until they decide to show themselves.” He looked back at the bodies littering the earth. “It’s such a waste; if the Eastern Sun would come out we could stop all of this.” At Roxas’ lack of response, the boy asked, “You heard the royal decree, did you not? We sent messengers to all the villages warning them to give up the blood traitors or reap their punishment.”
“No, I heard nothing,” The younger boy replied, eyes flashing, “and there is no meaning behind this senseless slaughter. What do you hope to achieve by killing innocent children? That only sets an example of a cruel and merciless dogma willing to take their citizen’s lives; killing people will not bring the Prince back or bring the clan you’re searching for out of hiding. Your King’s mind is twisted; you’re murdering innocents for nothing.”
The red-head smirked, looking away and reciting, “…and he shall come and wash the blood from the land, he shall bring the light to the darkness and draw the people out of their oppression. He shall quench the burning land with blue fire, the son of the Northern Sea, and he shall be known as Aoi Yuurei.”
Once again, visions of his past came to him in vivid detail. The son of the Northern Sea… Homes glittering with shells and gems flitted through his mind, made of pale pink glass and ashen stone; the ocean waters rushing up around the feet of the children running up and down the shore. Wild horses whinnied from the lily-meadow, and the girl he had seen before led him across brilliant white sands, her hair flowing around her as the sea breeze swept by. “Come on, Roxas! Mother’s waiting for us by the cliff…”
Ringing in his ears faded from the sound of the surf to the crackling of fire. He had lowered his arm slightly, the shield shifting slightly with his movement. “How many?”
The fire-started turned to look down at the other boy. “What?”
Roxas met his eyes, a steely expression on his face. “How many people have you killed?”
Green eyes flickered for a moment, and then he answered softly, “More than I can remember.”
The blonde turned, letting his shield fade, and walked into the woods, calling back to the boy, “One day, when the time comes for you, will you be prepared to face all of those whose lives you have stolen?”
The red-head didn’t reply, and after a while Roxas felt the older boy’s presence fade. He walked silently through the forest, the toddler asleep in his arms, searching the thicket for the girl’s mother. The woman, nor the boy, had been among those lying in the clearing so there was still sparse hope.

-xx-xx::XOX::xx-xx-

A brook cut through the forest, flowing steadily downhill from a spring somewhere ahead, Roxas following it through the trees. The sun beamed down through the leaves above in long rays to the forest floor, the wind swaying the boughs and ruffling Roxas’ hair and coat. The child was awake and watching the forest silently, turning her head to follow the birds that fluttered by and the small fish swimming in the stream. Her face was smeared with soot, ash coating her hair and clothes from the fire that had nearly claimed her life. Roxas knew he must be in much the same state, licking his dry, ash-laced lips and continuing up the gradual incline, sensing up ahead for any trace of human life.
There was something, faint and far away, that Roxas was slowly trekking towards. He could only guess that it was a village or something of the sort; it felt as if it were a mass collection of people, perhaps refugees who had gathered together after their homes had been burned. Roxas wasn’t surprised that he had yet to see the girl’s mother or the boy with her, the two probably thought he and the little girl were long dead. Still, he had chosen to get involved by rescuing the child and he needed to carry through in returning her to her mother. Besides, he couldn’t exactly be hauling around someone else’s child, there were things he himself needed to discover about his own past. For example, he needed to know more about these stories of the Aoi Yuurei… Could he really be the person the fire-starter thought he was? Could he be the last survivor of the Clan of the Northern Sea? He shook his head, sighing heavily and shifting the girl on his hip. That was impossible; the boy had said the clan had been destroyed 200 years ago. Roxas couldn’t be much older than seventeen.
He followed the brook, followed the sparkling blue weaving languidly through the grass and trees, and thought about the red-headed boy’s words. He thought about the flashes of memory he’d had about the girl with pale gold hair, and he thought about the words of the boys who had cornered him in the alleyway. Of course he had watched their hunters prepare for the chase, their guards duel one another in the fields, the granddaughters of the high chief play with one another in the pool beside their home; everything was so foreign to him. He wanted to know everything; the reason the girls laughed and splashed one another when they were alone yet were solemn and silent when clothed in their finest dresses, the reason the guards hid their emotions behind a mask of indifference until they were off duty and greeting their wives, the reason the merchants in the market were friendly when potential buyers were looking yet cursed under their breath once they had passed. He didn’t understand people; he didn’t understand how society in this land worked. Why were people so fake in their emotions and actions, why couldn’t they be themselves all the time? What was there to hide? It was as if everyone were watching the shadows and waiting for something to happen, too scared to be who they really are. A light to the darkness…to draw the people out of their oppression…
Roxas couldn’t remember his past but when he thought of those stone homes on the beach, the pink glass and shells, the tide washing up on the white sand he knew what was happening all around him was wrong. The people here were under siege from a King who had lost his Prince and had sent his army to kill innocent people to try and make up for the death of his son. The towns were obsolete against the force of the red-light wielders and the villagers were paying the price for the clan responsible, the Eastern Sun. Why did they assassinate the Prince? Why did they go into hiding and allow innocents to take their blame, why wouldn’t they stand strong together and defend the weak instead of run? What purpose did all of this serve? Were they trying to start a war? Did the Prince deserve to die? He didn’t understand at all, and the frustration of his lack of knowing was slowly eating away at his nerves. Not to mention he was hungry and filthy. He needed to stop and rest for a bit.
The brook had widened considerably since Roxas had begun following it, the riverbed deepening from a light blue to a much darker hue towards the middle of the flowing water. A pile of boulders had been rounded and smoothed from the constant movement of the water, several sitting in the corner of one of the river’s curves, rich moss clinging to the damp stone. A particularly large boulder broke the surface of the water in the middle of the stream, creating a small island in the dark water. It would be a perfect place to catch lunch.
He gently set the girl down, the toddler wobbling on her short, chubby legs for a moment before standing on her own and looking up at him expectantly. He shrugged out of his boots, sliding his pack to the ground beside them and stripping off his jacket and tunic. Ash went everywhere as he shook out his hair, looking down at the little girl when she sneezed and then began mimicking him, raising her hands to her head and shaking the grime out of her red hair. Smiling despite himself he crouched down and dusted the ash off of his satchel, then opened it and pulled out a handful of clean linens. He grabbed his knife, taking a piece of the cloth and spreading it out, cutting an oval in the middle then two smaller openings spread equally apart a bit further out. Putting away his knife and turning to the girl he pulled her towards him, asking gently, “Do you want a bath?”
“Bath?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. She paused then pointed towards to the side, towards the brook, “Water?”
“Yes, do you want to play in the water for a while?”
A smile crossed her face, dimpling her cheeks, a laugh bubbling from her throat, “Water!”
Roxas helped her undress, pulling off her outer dress then her thinner underskirt, feeling rather awkward as he helped her balance as she slid off her leggings and tiny underwear. He took the cloth he had cut and slipped it on over her head, the larger oval fitting around her neck while her arms slid into the smaller holes. The cloth was long enough that it covered her like a poncho, the corners of the cloth covering her from all sides. She looked up at Roxas, stretching her hands out to him in an attempt to convey that she wanted him to pick her up. He sighed, removing his leggings and stooping down to lift the girl into his arms. Of course she couldn’t swim; she was far too young to know how to do so on her own.
The water was cold at first, the movement of the stream keeping the temperature cool, but after the initial shudder passed him he gratefully moved to deeper waters. He could feel the dirt washing off of his body, the toddler squealing as the water lapped at her feet. She kicked at it, succeeding in splashing Roxas in the face, the blonde boy blinking and reaching a hand up to rub his eyes. He needed to find some soaproot, wash their clothes, wash the girl and himself, and catch some fish; he couldn’t do that very well while holding a toddler above drowning level. His mind began flashing, thoughts and images coming to him; a crystal, a flickering light, a bubble… That’s it, a bubble. Bubble’s float, bubbles hold air, bubbles are a good way to be in the water and not drown. The top of his spine prickled, heat flowing from his chest out to his fingertips, his mind going into static-mode as he felt his powers surface.
He held the girl away from him with both hands, fingertips glowing blue, and slowly formed a small, shiny, rainbow-hued shield around her that resembled a large bubble. It encased her from the chest up, keeping her safely above the water level yet still allowing her to kick and play in the stream, her arms passing through the shield when she reached out to splash the water. He hesitated only for a moment then released her, the girl’s laughter at being set free a sharp squeal in his ears. Sighing, he set the bubble’s course to spiral in a certain area near the shoreline, away from the turn of the river and the darker waters. He didn’t want her wandering downstream and he didn’t need her disturbing the fish, so setting the bubble’s trajectory to remain in a certain area seemed the logical solution to the situation. Leaving her to play in her bubble Roxas returned to the shore and grabbed his knife, walking into the woods. Soaproot shouldn’t be too hard to find this close to the water.
Over the next hour Roxas successfully collected a substantial amount of soaproot (he put some in his satchel for later of course), washed both sets of his clothing and the little girl’s clothes before laying them on a rock to sun-dry, gave the toddler a bath (she had bright red hair and chocolate brown eyes hidden beneath all that ash) and bathed himself in turn, and finally made a three-pronged spear from a thin tree limb to catch their lunch. He stretched his arms high above him, twisted side to side, then grabbed his spear and headed into the brook. Swimming past the toddler, who was once again floating around in her bubble atop the water, he made his way to the large boulder in the middle of the stream and crawled on top of it. He couldn’t see the fish in the deep, darker water but he could sense them and knew where to aim his spear. He waited patiently, feeling the fish circle and dart about then come to a still right below him in the shadow of the rock. With one swift movement he jabbed the spear down into the water and pulled it back, a large writhing black trout shaking his spear back and forth as it tried to escape. The fish was a little over a foot long, strong and fat, the black and green pattern of its scales shining when the sun beamed down through the trees and flashed across it. A few more trout as large as this one and he would be done fishing for the day; he could wrap a couple fish in salted cloth and save them for dinner later. He didn’t know when they would come across another pool like this and fish would be much harder to catch in smaller, swifter parts of the river. One could never be too prepared, after all Roxas didn’t know where he was going or how far away the next village was. He needed to plan ahead.
Taking the fish by the tail he sent a surge of power through his palm, blue lightning jumping across its scales as it was electrocuted. It stopped wriggling and went still, Roxas laying it down by his feet. He never got used to the feeling of taking a life, even if it was necessary. Fish, rabbit, deer, fowl; they were hunted for their pelts, used to create clothing, tools, and shelter, and cooked to provide sustenance for humans…but they were still living things that had to die for another life to survive. A shudder passed up his spine, eyes wandering back to the fish lying limp against the rock, contemplating for a moment whether he should swim back and fetch his knife. Something about using his powers to finish off the fish make cold creep through him, but he supposed using a knife and actually cutting off its head would have the same effect in the long run. He wasn’t violent; he didn’t like the thought of hurting anything or anyone, but he did like the thought of a nice smoked trout sitting happily in his stomach. He was sure the toddler was getting hungry as well. Hopefully she wouldn’t object to eating solid food; she seemed old enough to be able to eat a soft, cooked fish.
Setting his uneasiness aside and returning to the task at hand he poised his spear, waited, and thrust; pulling another good-sized trout from the river. Slightly larger than the other fish, the blonde took a breath and zapped it, laying it beside the other fish when he was done. He crouched over the water again, glancing sideways at the little girl to see she was safely splashing about near the shore, and then focused on something swimming slowly towards him from downstream. It was much larger than a trout. He dropped his spear and jumped into the water, grabbing the girl as quickly as he could and pulling her to dry land, dissolving the bubble around her and gathering her into his arms. Eyes narrowed he watched the water, sensing for what he had felt before then turning to look over his shoulder, surveying the forest with wide eyes. There were more, how had he not noticed them sooner… He grabbed their clothes and his jacket one-handed and shoved them into his satchel, slipped on his boots and pulled his pack onto his shoulder while hugging the girl tightly against him. They were both soaking wet.
Something moved in the trees behind him, Roxas turning towards the shadows and reaching out with his mind to place the action. He lifted an arm slowly, evaluating the situation. There were half a dozen or more encircling him in a large oval; all of them stealthy and well-trained. He didn’t know who they were, but he wasn’t about the let them get anywhere near his charge. He had to get her back to her mother, he had a responsibility to both of them to reunite them and make sure they were safe. He couldn’t let it end here. The wind swayed the trees, the birds stopped singing, and the still waters near the shore began to ripple. Then the little girl was laughing, clapping her hands together and pointing towards the stream.
Suddenly a figure broke the surface of the stream and a beam of yellow light shot out of the water, Roxas slinging his arm to the side and deflecting it with a shield, the beam bouncing off to the left and hitting a tree. Three bands of light wrapped around the base of the trunk and held there, shining in the low light. A binding, not an attack… Two beams soared from somewhere within the trees, bouncing off of the shield yet again as Roxas turned to deflect them, his eyes darting from the woods to the boy standing in the shallow water of the riverbank. The other boy was standing with his arms crossed before him, the bright light forming where his arms touched slowly creating a large orb. Gritting his teeth, he prepared himself; this one might be a bit harder to deflect one-handed.
The boy standing in the water looked at something behind Roxas and nodded, the blonde turning to see figures stepping out from the shade of the trees. Summoning his strength and thickening the shield around him and the little girl, he twisted his wrist and raised his palm. They didn’t look like they were going to fool around with attempts at bindings anymore. A counterattack was inevitable, he was greatly outnumbered. He quickly plotted out his movements; breathing deep and tapping into that liquid silver, feeling it rush through his body and settle behind his eyes and in his palms. As the boy before him and the figures behind him unleashed simultaneous attacks he spun on his heels in a semicircle, slashing his arm out, energy clashing against his shield and pushing it outwards in a blast. It hit those surrounding him in dead-on, knocking them backwards several yards, back against trees, into the water, and face down on the ground. He could hear the surprised gasps, the bones popping back into socket, and the groans of pain even as he lowered his arm. Not giving time for a chance recovery he took off at a run, branching off parallel to the brook and dashing through the shadows of the forest.
He ran, turning in random directions to try and throw off his trackers but remaining aware of his distance from the stream. He came to a ford in a wider part of the river and crossed to the other side, jumping nimbly from fallen log to scattered rocks before his boots met dry land. He tossed a wave of blue behind him to wipe his footprints from the sand and ran on, trying to concentrate on running and tracking the pursuers behind him. After a while he stopped, propping himself up against a tree and gasping in several lungfuls of air, licking the sweat from his top lip. The toddler in his arms was fussing, hungry and tired, looking up at him with large, rounded russet eyes. I can push myself longer, put some more distance between us and them…but it’s cruel to push her.
With a sigh he lowered the child to the forest floor, took his pack from his shoulders and sat down with his back to a tree. She watched him then mimicked him yet again, sitting down atop a large leafy fern and pouting. Knowing a look of hunger when he saw one, he unlatched his satchel and pulled out their clothes then reached further down and retrieved two palm-sized green fruit. Ma-Feung, sweet little fruits Roxas had wanted to enjoy with a nicely smoked black trout. Since that was now out of the question… He retrieved his knife and cut one of the fruits into thin slices, handing one to the toddler. She took it from him and stuck it in her mouth, sucking the juice out of it before taking a bite. Smiling, Roxas took a bite out of the other solid fruit, reveling in the burst of sweet juice that flooded his mouth. The vendor had mentioned that along with being sweet that Ma-Feung was excellent at quenching thirst when water was not readily available. He was more than grateful for it now.
Handing the girl another piece and setting his knife and the slices aside he popped the other half of his fruit into his mouth and reached for his clothes, dressing himself while scanning the forest. There were a couple of deer nearby and pairs of birds flying about above him twittering loudly to one another, but no sign of humans other than themselves. He slid is tunic on over his head, brushing up against the crystal he had almost forgotten about, the silver chain still wrapped tightly around his neck. Pulling on his leggings and wrapping his jacket around his shoulders he stepped back into his boots, digging through his satchel for another Ma-Feung and turning to the little girl. She was finishing her second slice happily, looking up at him with a grin as she giggled. “Come on,” he said softly, “your turn...”
He stood her up and pulled the makeshift dress from around her neck, helping her into her clothes and sitting her back down on top of the fern, handing her another slice and letting his mind settle for a moment while eating the other fruit. The brook was to their right about 50 yards away, the skyline was slowly beginning to fade from bright blue to sunset orange, and the presence of gathered people he had felt earlier was close; much closer than it would have been had he not been running for almost an hour. He reached up to touch the crystal hidden beneath his tunic, rubbing it between his fingers before pulling the necklace out of his collar and holding it up to the fading light. Something about the blue gem entranced him, light seeming to shine from within it and flow like water, or perhaps fire. The thoughts of blue fire came rushing back to him again, wave after wave on unanswered questions assaulting his exhausted mind. He would try to make it to the village before nightfall; he needed a full night’s rest after everything he’d experienced throughout the day.
Hiding the crystal again Roxas sat back down against the tree, giving the small girl two more pieces of fruit and leaning his head back for a moment, closing his eyes. He was so tired; he had used up so much energy both physically and mentally, if he could just sit here for a few minutes while she ate and relax long enough to breathe…
--x--
A shrill scream jolted him out of his half-sleep, looking over to see the little girl’s fingers were bleeding, Roxas sitting up and taking her hand in his gently. Blue light danced across his fingertips to hers, healing her in a matter of seconds. She pulled away, looking at her hand then back up at him. “Owwie...” She pouted, sticking her healed fingers in her mouth. The boy sighed and stretched, getting to his feet and looking up at the sky. His cat nap had lasted maybe a half hour, just long enough for the toddler to become venturous in her endeavors. Glancing down at his things he realized she must have been reaching for the last slices of Ma-Feung lying atop his blade, handing her the remaining fruit and taking the sharp object out of her reach. While she nibbled the Ma-Feung he tore a large, smooth leaf off of a nearby plant and wiped his knife clean, returning it to his satchel and pulling the long strap of his pack over his shoulder and neck.
As he moved to pick the child up he felt something stir in the forest. It was what he’d felt before when they had appeared by the river, though definitely not as strong. Despite the probability that it wasn’t the entire group this time whoever it was had already gotten very close, too close for comfort. They approached gradually, taking their time as they made their way towards him, undoubtedly aware that Roxas was as conscious of them as they were of him. The boy picked up the toddler and waited for the other to make a move, asking after a length of silence, “What do you want?”
“I want to know why you ran.” A boy a few years older than him stepped into the light, dusky blue eyes half-hidden by his dirty blonde spikes. It was the boy who had tried to bind him, the boy who had been in the river. “You were obviously powerful enough to battle us, why run away instead of stand and fight?”
Roxas narrowed his eyes, taking in the older boy’s black and gold clothes, noting the yellow emblem of a sun on the shoulder of his ninja-like attire and the katana sheathed at his side. “Fighting without a reason is meaningless.” The other boy watched him, crossing his arms over his chest, his spiked bracers chiming when they banged against one another. “We don’t know one another, we have not wronged one another, I have no quarrel with you; what purpose would there be for me to stand and fight?”
Roxas waited for the other boy to answer, azure eyes battling dark navy, “You’re not one of the Akai Ookami;” the older boy said, cocking his head to the side, “one of their kind would never speak like that.”
“Akai Ookami?”
The other boy nodded, “The Crimson King’s elite pack of fire-wielders. When I first gathered everyone to go after you I thought maybe you were their leader, your aura is strong like his.”
Roxas scowled, “They use red light, not blue. Why did you keep attacking me once you could obviously see I wasn’t one of them?”
“You’re heading straight for Arukei; we couldn’t exactly just let you go.”
The boys stared at one another for a long time, the silence broken suddenly by the little girl laughing and clapping her hands, pointing towards the grass and saying happily, “Rabbit!”
“There’s a child with you?” The boy asked incredulously, stepping forward and leaning to the right, trying to see the toddler from where Roxas had her tucked against his side.
Hesitating momentarily the younger boy replied, “I’m trying to take her back to her mother, they were separated in the fire…”
“The last village that the Akai Ookami attacked was Cellus. The survivors where headed to Arukei, we passed them on our way through the woods.” He nodded to Roxas, then walked past him, saying, “Come with me, I’ll help you find her mother.”
--x--
The boy’s name was Demyx, and though he didn’t omit the information Roxas knew he was a member of the Clan of the Eastern Sun. They made quick time once they returned to the brook, following the winding waters to the top of a hill, the woods dramatically less dense once the land leveled out. The sky was a mixture of orange and pink, now clearly visible through the thinning trees, soft white smoke discernible from several hundred yards ahead as it curled in a large plume towards the sky. That must be Arukei…
Roxas could hear music the closer they walked towards the village, the scent of various foods wafting through the air from the cooking fires, several smaller plumes of smoke visible near the largest. Several people were up ahead by the river, Demyx waving to them, the villagers calling hello to him and waving back. The stream widened out into a large elliptical spring, cattails and water weeds growing in abundance around the bubbling pool where several more villagers were gathering water in large urns. A lean, russet-headed boy was helping a girl with two large water-jugs, and for some reason Roxas couldn’t help but think he looked familiar. As the brunette turned, laughing at the girl beside him, he looked up and met eyes with Roxas, and suddenly the blonde knew. He was the boy that he had sent the girl’s mother with. The brunette seemed to recognize him as well, eyes widening when he noticed the child against his side. He sat the urn down, telling the girl he was with to wait, and then rushed over to the two boys. “You’re alive!” He said in disbelief, looking over and Demyx and smiling before returning to Roxas, “I can’t believe it; you went back into that burning house and saved Lily?”
So that’s her name… The toddler squealed in delight and stretched her arms out to the boy. “Sora!” She cried, laughing as he took her from Roxas, “Sora!”
“Lily!” He replied, smiling at her laughter. He looked up at Roxas and nodded, “Thank you, her mother’s been grieving since we left Cellus. I can’t imagine what she’ll say when she sees her again.”
“Sora! Are you going to help me with this or not?” the girl called, a pout across her face, her light brown hair flipping out where it touched her shoulders.
“I’m coming, Selphie!” he called back, looking down at the toddler then back to Roxas. “Would you mind?”
He took her again, watching Sora run back and lift his urn to his shoulder, walking with Selphie and motioning for Demyx and Roxas to follow him. The two obliged, following after the pair in front of them, listening to the girl chatter while Sora commented now and then as they entered the village. Arukei was built into the forest, trees growing beside houses, in the streets, plants and bushes lining the pathways and vines crawling up the sides of the houses. Demyx noticed Roxas’ awed expression, saying, “Arukei has been a resting point for refugees for decades, now that the Akai Ookami have destroyed their villages the people have gathered together here. It’s a safe haven on the south border, protected by the Clan of Southern Wake and Clan of the South Sands outside of the law of the Crimson King.” The older boy looked over at Roxas who was watching the people around them interact with one another, a group of refugees cooking meals and playing music together. “It’s good to see everyone together; we’ve been separated far too long. We were once united, free. Now that the Crimson King has taken over the land everything has slowly fallen into chaos.”
Roxas turned towards the sound of a woman screaming, Demyx running forward with his hand on the hilt of his blade to see what had happened. He followed after the older boy, turning a corner to see Sora was holding Lily’s mother against him as if trying to help her stand. Demyx turned and looked back at Roxas, saying, “Look, here she is.”
“Mama!” Lily exclaimed, kicking her feet and struggling to get out of Roxas’ arms. He put her down carefully, holding on to her arms until she got her balance then watched her run to her mother, the woman collapsing to her knees and throwing her arms out for her daughter to come to.
“Oh, my baby!” the woman sobbed, gathering the child into her arms and holding her tight. “My little girl! My Lily!”
Roxas sighed, watching the two embrace, Demyx walking back to his side and clasping a hand on his shoulder. “If you need me I’ll be around the central bonfire, I need to regroup with my clan. Feel free to stay in Arukei for as long as you need.”
The younger boy nodded, Demyx waving goodbye and walking off through the streets. Roxas sighed, watching the mother and her child for another moment before turning back towards the entrance of the village. He was rather interesting in the group that had been playing music they had passed when walking in.
As he moved to leave Sora called, “Where are you going?”
Roxas looked back at him. “I’m not sure, just thought I’d take a look around.”
The brunette nodded, Selphie walking up to his side. “We’re going to be at the fire near the windmill later if you’d like to have dinner with us.” The boy turned and pointed over the rooftops, the top spire and two blades of the windmill clearly visible over the houses even in the dimming light. The boy motioned to himself when the blonde’s eyes moved back to him. “I’m Sora, this is Selphie,” he paused then added, “and you’ve already met Lily and Anna.”
The woman was on her feet, walking past Sora towards Roxas and extending an arm to embrace him. “Thank you so much, I thought I had killed you both. I’m so sorry to place such a burden on you…” Lily laughed at her side, playing with the flowing sleeve of her dress. Anna hugged him long and hard, then pulled away with tears in her eyes and said once more, “Thank you...”
“Roxas,” he finished for her, “my name’s Roxas.”
“Thank you, Roxas.” She said with a smile, bright red curls falling down her shoulders. “I’ll never forget your kindness.”
As she walked off towards the windmill Selphie followed her, playing with Lily’s chubby little hand as they disappeared between two large red-stone houses. Sora stayed, watching Roxas for a moment before asking, “Do you want me to show you around the city?”
Roxas hesitated then asked, “Do you know anything about the people playing music near the forest entrance?”
“They’re gypsies from Tailbetta, to the west. I’m not sure if they’re all from the same clan, but I know the girl who was dancing earlier is from the Western Sky.”
“I thought the Akai Ookami were only attacking villages along the southern border?” Roxas asked as Sora walked to his side, the two boys heading back towards the gypsies.
Sora nodded, “They are now; Tailbetta was one of the villages to be attacked right after the assassination. It was burned to the ground before the official decree.”
So many cities, so many homes, so many lives…destroyed. Roxas, thinking for a moment, asked, “You’re letting the Eastern Sun live among you in a refugee camp that they themselves are at fault for creating?”
The brunette blinked, blue eyes showing his confusion. “I thought surely you knew the truth, the boy with you was from the Clan of the Eastern Sun…” He linked his fingers together behind his head, walking alongside Roxas and saying, “The assassination wasn’t the work of the Eastern Sun; they were framed by someone on the inside of the royal court, someone who was close enough to the Prince to kill him without him fighting back.” Roxas listened silently, the other boy continuing after a moment. “They thought it was the sunlight-wielders because of their binding abilities, but someone from the Clan of the Eastern Sun couldn’t have been the assassin. Every member of the Eastern Sun was accounted for at the Ceremony of Sun Blades held in the fallen castle of Hyne southeast of here. There’s no way that one of the Eastern Sun could have made it from southeast of the border to the Crimson Castle mere hours after the ceremony ended to assassinate the Prince, which is exactly what would have had to happen if someone from the clan had killed him.”
“Everyone was accounted for?” Roxas asked, the other boy looking towards him, meeting his eyes before nodding.
“Demyx said the ceremony’s a big deal, no one missed it. They took a charter when they entered the clan to attend all of the Blade Ceremonies.” He lowered his hands to his side, adding, “If someone hadn’t shown up they would have been greatly shamed.”
“Didn’t anyone mention the possibility of the clan’s innocence before the King sent his pack off to kill people?”
Sora laughed, “Of course. The messengers were deemed traitors to the crown and their villages were the first to burn.” The boy looked past Roxas and pointed towards a group of gypsies, the people laughing and playing music together around a small cooking fire. A girl in a white dress was dancing to the music, swinging her arms gracefully and spinning in circles. “I heard the Western Sky was one of the first clans to defend the Eastern Sun.”
Roxas and Sora stepped closer, several of the older gypsies turning to greet them warmly, and then returning to clapping in rhythm with the music. Two women were playing violins, an older man sitting on the ground strumming a sitar. Across from them a young girl was shaking a tambourine, the man sitting beside her blowing into a long wooden flute. The girl in the white dress spun in circles, hands thrown above her as her dress fanned out in a large wave, several layers of colored skirts beneath her outer dress revealed with her movements. Her skin was tanned, her jet black hair cut short around her curved face. As the song ended she snapped her heels together and came to an abrupt halt, her skirts continuing to flow around her for a moment before settling against her petite frame. She opened her eyes as her audience began to clap, hazel irises brightening her tanned complexion. She curtsied then noticed her two watchers, smiling and walking over to them. “Sora! You’re back again.”
The brunette smiled, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, you’re an amazing dancer Yuffie.” He motioned to the blonde at his side. “This is Roxas. He’s the boy I was telling you about, he found Lily and brought her back to Anna.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “The boy from the burning of Cellus? I thought you said he and the little girl were dead?”
“We thought so, but obviously we were wrong.” Sora smiled over at Roxas, saying in a regal tone. “He’s a hero, running through burning houses to save little girl’s lives!”
Roxas glared at him. “I’m hardly a hero.”
“It’s very noble of you,” Yuffie said, Roxas looking over at her, “to rescue a child you had no ties to, and then return her to her mother. Cellus is far away; I’m sure you went through a great deal of trouble to get her here.”
Roxas looked away from her intense gaze. He hadn’t even thought about it like that before. He felt it was a responsibility to a decision he had made. He could have ignored the attack and gone a different way, he could have left Anna crying in the streets, he could have let Lily die…but since he chose to save her he felt he also chose the path of keeping her safe and returning her to her mother. The other choices had been cruel, unacceptable decisions he would never have been able to make, so for this girl to regard him in such a respectful manner… It felt wrong to him.
“I didn’t think about it being any trouble,” Roxas said softly, “I just thought she deserved to live; deserved to be safe and happy, and be with her mother.” He met her hazel eyes, the girl listening silently, “I couldn’t knowingly let her die like that.”
“You have a good heart, a good aura.” Yuffie said gently, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. “You’re a deep, intense blue. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.” She smiled, drawing her had back. “It reminds me of my grandmother and her old stories. She used to tell me legends from times long ago about a boy with a deep ocean-blue aura, the last of the cold-blazers from the Clan of the Northern Sea.” She sighed, looking towards the sky with a sad smile on her lips. “I miss her…”
Roxas’ mind whirred, thoughts rushing through his mind. Another clan who knew tales about the Northern Sea, the same description as the Akai Ookami boy had given him, the thoughts sending a wave of familiarity over him, that blue-eyed girl’s laughter echoing in his ears. “Aoi Yuurei…”
“What did you say?”
Roxas looked to Yuffie, the young gypsy’s eyes wide. “Someone’s told me about that legend before. They said the boy was called Aoi Yuurei.”
Yuffie reached over and took his hand, saying in amazement, “Your aura is pulsing like the waves of the ocean, or a fire. The name, Aoi Yuurei, what does it mean to you?”
“I don’t know; it’s just a name…”
Yuffie shook her head, clasping his hand tightly in hers. “Do you wield the light? Are you a magic user?”
Roxas was silent for a long moment, then nodded.
She searched his eyes, asking, “What color? What flame do you command?”
The blonde closed his eyes, pulling his hand back. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have brought it up…”
Yuffie held on, locking her eyes with his. “What light lies within you?”
Slowly, like a candle flickering to life, a soft blue glow crept from Roxas’ fingertips. It covered his palm and flitted across the gypsy’s fingers, the girl watching in shock and slowly moving one of her hands from Roxas’ towards her face. “It’s…cool, like water, but it’s fire… Blue fire…”
The boy called it back to him a moment later, the light fading as if nothing had ever been there. Sora, who had been watching from Roxas’ side, and Yuffie both looked over at the blonde in utter amazement, the two seeming to be the only ones who saw the blue light. “Can you tell me what it means?” He asked softly, the girl’s eyes widening in realization.
“You don’t know who you are?”
He hesitated only for a moment before shaking his head. “I can’t remember anything past about a week ago.”
Yuffie looked over at Sora, the two exchanging a glance, then the gypsy leaned in a whispered, “If you truly are a cold-blazer then you’re the last of the Clan of the Northern Sea, the clan of blue fire that was destroyed centuries ago.” Her hazel eyes shimmered as she spoke, her voice soft and low, “Legends say the son of the chief will return some day to destroy the tyranny overcoming the land, that he will battle and over come all other fire and magic and finally restore peace to all the Clans. The legends call him Aoi Yuurei, the Blue Ghost.”

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-vomits- 20 pages for the first chapter? -dies- I literally could not stop writing this for a week. I had a weird dream and this is what spilt out. -glares at muse- She’s on hyper drive, I’m working on three fics at once now! (In case you wanted to know; yes, chapter 18 of Unseen Emotions is something I’m currently writing as well. I’ll expect reviews and cookies, so hop to it!)

Here’s some info for you:

Ma-Muang and Ma-Feung are actual fruits! Ma-Muang is also known as the Thai Mango, and Ma-Feung is also called a Carambola Starfruit. I described their shape, color, and how they taste based on the actual fruits!

The village names are pretty simple:
Cellus (sell-us)
Arukei (are-ew-kay)
Tailbetta (tale-bet-uh)
Hyne (hi-nh)

And for the Japanese names there are the translations:

Aoi Yuurei - Blue Ghost
Akai Ookami - Fire Wolf

Yay! Was that everything? Did I miss anything? -passes out- Oh well, I’ll correct it another time. I’m off to bed, yay! Please leave me a pretty little review and I shall write you another chapter very, very soon! Nite!
BIABS
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Blue Ghost