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They make it just as far as the city gates when a flurry of bolts of pink light hit the ground in front of their feet. Eden dances back from them, looking up towards the top of the city wall, where four of Mateus’ little gang of keybearers are stood.
Eden recognises most of them -- Mateus is unmistakeable, with his long blond hair and proclivity for glimmering gold and violet clothes; and the white-haired girl who fired off the energy bolts was with him back in Wonderland, as was the red-haired boy with the hat tipped over his eyes. The fourth keybearer, a tanned boy with a bright red headband and a massive chest tattoo peeking over the neckline of his tanktop, was new to Eden.
“What’s this?” Mateus asks, resting his keyblade on his shoulder. “You’re not only lowering yourself to helping the people of these worlds again, you’ve gone from queens to unwashed peasants? I suppose leopards really do never change their spots.”
“Oh, stop, I can’t bear the derision,” Eden throws back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “It’s so embearressing.”
“Hey, Mateus, Artie, Jecht,” Alvis says, and eyes the red-haired boy. “... And whoever you are. Get out of our way. There’s plenty of Heartless for you to deal with in the city.”
Mateus scowls for a moment, as the white-haired girl -- Artie, Eden thinks -- hides a laugh behind her hand.
“Do you know these guys?” Aladdin asks.
“It doesn’t matter, we need to go,” the old man says. “There’s a sandstorm moving in! We don’t have much time!”
The old man makes a move for the gate, but Artie swings her keyblade, firing off a few more bolts of light into his path.
“Don’t be silly, kittens,” Artie says. “We’re not here for the Heartless. We’re here for you. You had the audacity to break into Ursus and steal from us, after all.”
“Er, your Foreteller already raked us over the coals for that,” Freyra says. “And then he let us go. Maybe you should just get over it.”
“Master Aced’s soft,” Jecht says, stretching his arms. “It’s nothin’ personal, but if we just let this happen, sooner or later every Union’s going to think they can run roughshod over us.” He smacked his fist against his palm. “Don’t worry, we ain’t gonna kill you or anything like that. Just make you wish we did.”
Mateus, Artie, and Jecht leap off the wall without saying anything else, leaving the red-haired boy to sigh, settling down on the edge of the wall and pulling his hat down over his face.
Artie lands first, the tip of her pointed shoe just barely touching the ground in front of Alvis before she moves forward, her violet and red keyblade blurring down towards him. The two vanish in a streak of lightning and purple light, zipping around buildings.
Mateus lands next, his wing-shaped keyblade in hand, forcing Freyra back. A magic circle opens beneath her feet, holding her in place as electricity crackles up her legs.
Eden’s moving to help when Jecht lands with a heavy crash. He narrowly avoids the fist aimed at his stomach, jumping back and summoning his keyblade.
---
The old man scowls, scraping his walking stick against the ground and pointing towards the gate. “Let’s flee, boy! While they’re distracted!”
Aladdin looks, for a moment, like he’s going to agree, before his attention is dragged back to the fight. “We can’t just leave them.”
“There’s nothing we can do! Quickly, before the sandstorm blows in, and the Cave of Wonders is lost to us forever.”
“But -- …”
---
Jecht has none of the finesse that Mateus or Artie have. He uses his heavy keyblade like a club, battering at Eden’s guard like he plans to break his keyblade.
“Think fast!” He hears Freyra yell, as she fires a shot into the air. It shoots up towards the clouds, hangs in the air for a moment, then comes down again, spinning, twisting space into eddies and vortices of blue-violet energy around itself, before it crashes into the ground.
There is a split second where every grain of sand and dust they’ve whipped up in their fighting hangs in the air, and Eden can see the glimmering outlines of Mateus’ traps, quivering in the air. Then he feels a sharp drag on him, like he and the rest of the world are suddenly liquid swirling around a sink.
He scrapes a foot against the ground, hurriedly testing how much give it has, then uses his speed to push off, nearly colliding against a wall as he careens away from the vortex. One by one, he sees Mateus’ traps get wrenched from their positions and shatter. Jecht buries his keyblade into the ground to hold himself steady.
The gravity well vanishes as quickly as it appears, but Eden has distance now, enough to pull his one skill card, emblazoned with the image of a white duck, out.
It flickers, and his keyblade shifts shape, splitting into two jagged, glass guns. Jecht’s sweeping towards him, too fast for Eden to question the transformation, so he fires instead, releasing a rain of light on the other boy.
Jecht barely notices. The arrowheads of light score and singe his skin, but he shakes it off without a second thought, and then he’s suddenly too close to fire at. One leg slams against the inside of Eden’s shin, just as a fist hits his chin, sending him reeling back.
When Jecht moves to close the distance again, Eden snaps a leg up and around, a sweeping kick against Jecht’s jaw. That seems to stun him for a moment, and Eden fires off several shots directly into his chest, then turns, building momentum into a jump, and a corkscrew kick down at the other boy’s forehead.
The skill card’s effect putter out as he lands, the guns transforming back into his keyblade. He brings it down towards Jecht, banking on the other boy being dazed.
His keyblade is met with Jecht’s, instead, and this time, even though Eden knows that he should have the advantage, the force of the strike rattles his keyblade, like it barely wants to obey him.
“First card use, huh?” Jecht asks. He shoves and twists, and Eden’s keyblade all but flies out of his hand. “Hate the things, myself. They tax your keyblade, leave it weaker for a few minutes afterwards.”
He dismisses his own keyblade, raising his fists and sweeping in.
---
The old man grabs Aladdin’s arm, trying to pull him towards the gate, but the boy is transfixed.
“Hey, Abu,” Aladdin says, and the monkey on his shoulder makes an affirmative noise. “Can you distract one of them?”
The monkey makes several outraged noises, and Aladdin’s shoulders tense. “I know, but we’ve gotta do something!”
The monkey gives another noise, bounding off Aladdin’s shoulder.
---
In a straight-up fistfight, Eden’s sure he should be winning. He’s landing more blows, easily, powerful kicks at Jecht’s legs and face. He can tell they’re having an effect -- but the other boy is dogged, pushing through the pain, and every punch he lands knocks the air out of Eden’s body.
With a sharp crack, Jecht slams his forehead against Eden’s, and all Eden sees are bright lights and sharp strokes of colour, before a rain of blows drives him up against a wall and pins him there.
He doesn’t really see Aladdin’s weird bipedal horse landing on Jecht’s head and scrabbling at his eyes, but he definitely hears it screeching, and Jecht yelling. It gives him an opportunity to summon his keyblade back into his hand, landing a blow against the boy’s chest that sends him flying.
Eden pushes off the wall, rubbing his face, dragging his keyblade along the dust. There’s a jagged mark across the top of Jecht’s torso, venting tiny specks of crystal into the air.
Nearby, Alvis lands in the dirt with a thump. Artie’s smooth voice cuts through the air.
“Jecht, I’m swapping dance partners with you.”
“Don’t you dare,” Jecht growls, as Artie walks past him. She ignores him, murmuring a few words under her breath.
A sharp spike of violet and pink light tears out of her keyblade, making a half dozen jagged turns through the air as it moves towards Eden.
He sees where it’s going to hit, raises his keyblade, lets it land at just the right angle to send it ricocheting off towards Mateus.
Artie smiles. “Fithos Lusec Wecos Vinosec.”
A sharp spike of violet and pink tears out of her keyblade, making a half dozen jagged turns through the air as it moves towards Eden.
He sees where it’s going to hit, raises his keyblade to let it land at just the right angle to send it ricocheting off towards Mateus.
It misses his keyblade by a fraction of an inch, and Eden has just enough time to register that this is wrong, before the spike is embedded just below his collarbone, and he’s dragged up through the air, tossed around like a ragdoll before he’s slammed heavily against a wall, as the spike flickers and fades.
---
“I’m going to call the guards,” Aladdin says.
The old man splutters. “You can’t! Do you want to be arrested again?”
“No!” Aladdin protests. “But this has to stop.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
The old man is sure that nobody else hears the voice, but his eyes are drawn to one of the nearby rooftops anyway. The speaker, the strange little benefactor who told him that the keybearers were coming, is carefully keeping out of sight, but he sees the glint of light off buttons.
Above them, a miasma of shadows and black smoke materialising, its patterns swirling and shifting. The keybearers -- the five on their feet, at least -- stop and look up at it. With a sharp, gulping sound, a dozen spherical Heartless fly out, then a dozen more, then a dozen more, on and on.
Seven Chirithies materialise. In perfect unison: “More Darkballs?”
Aladdin takes the distraction, running in to grab Eden and sling him over his shoulders, while the blonde girl, Freyra, picks up the third member of their group. The Darkballs barely acknowledge that they’re there, focusing single-mindedly on the four new keybearers.
With a noise halfway between alarm and frustration, Mateus sweeps a skill card across his keyblade, summoning a dome of golden light to shield himself with.
The old man gestures Aladdin and Freyra towards the gate, and what feels like an eternity later, they’re outside the city and in the desert, putting as much distance between themselves and Agrabah as they can.
Eden recognises most of them -- Mateus is unmistakeable, with his long blond hair and proclivity for glimmering gold and violet clothes; and the white-haired girl who fired off the energy bolts was with him back in Wonderland, as was the red-haired boy with the hat tipped over his eyes. The fourth keybearer, a tanned boy with a bright red headband and a massive chest tattoo peeking over the neckline of his tanktop, was new to Eden.
“What’s this?” Mateus asks, resting his keyblade on his shoulder. “You’re not only lowering yourself to helping the people of these worlds again, you’ve gone from queens to unwashed peasants? I suppose leopards really do never change their spots.”
“Oh, stop, I can’t bear the derision,” Eden throws back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “It’s so embearressing.”
“Hey, Mateus, Artie, Jecht,” Alvis says, and eyes the red-haired boy. “... And whoever you are. Get out of our way. There’s plenty of Heartless for you to deal with in the city.”
Mateus scowls for a moment, as the white-haired girl -- Artie, Eden thinks -- hides a laugh behind her hand.
“Do you know these guys?” Aladdin asks.
“It doesn’t matter, we need to go,” the old man says. “There’s a sandstorm moving in! We don’t have much time!”
The old man makes a move for the gate, but Artie swings her keyblade, firing off a few more bolts of light into his path.
“Don’t be silly, kittens,” Artie says. “We’re not here for the Heartless. We’re here for you. You had the audacity to break into Ursus and steal from us, after all.”
“Er, your Foreteller already raked us over the coals for that,” Freyra says. “And then he let us go. Maybe you should just get over it.”
“Master Aced’s soft,” Jecht says, stretching his arms. “It’s nothin’ personal, but if we just let this happen, sooner or later every Union’s going to think they can run roughshod over us.” He smacked his fist against his palm. “Don’t worry, we ain’t gonna kill you or anything like that. Just make you wish we did.”
Mateus, Artie, and Jecht leap off the wall without saying anything else, leaving the red-haired boy to sigh, settling down on the edge of the wall and pulling his hat down over his face.
Artie lands first, the tip of her pointed shoe just barely touching the ground in front of Alvis before she moves forward, her violet and red keyblade blurring down towards him. The two vanish in a streak of lightning and purple light, zipping around buildings.
Mateus lands next, his wing-shaped keyblade in hand, forcing Freyra back. A magic circle opens beneath her feet, holding her in place as electricity crackles up her legs.
Eden’s moving to help when Jecht lands with a heavy crash. He narrowly avoids the fist aimed at his stomach, jumping back and summoning his keyblade.
The old man scowls, scraping his walking stick against the ground and pointing towards the gate. “Let’s flee, boy! While they’re distracted!”
Aladdin looks, for a moment, like he’s going to agree, before his attention is dragged back to the fight. “We can’t just leave them.”
“There’s nothing we can do! Quickly, before the sandstorm blows in, and the Cave of Wonders is lost to us forever.”
“But -- …”
Jecht has none of the finesse that Mateus or Artie have. He uses his heavy keyblade like a club, battering at Eden’s guard like he plans to break his keyblade.
“Think fast!” He hears Freyra yell, as she fires a shot into the air. It shoots up towards the clouds, hangs in the air for a moment, then comes down again, spinning, twisting space into eddies and vortices of blue-violet energy around itself, before it crashes into the ground.
There is a split second where every grain of sand and dust they’ve whipped up in their fighting hangs in the air, and Eden can see the glimmering outlines of Mateus’ traps, quivering in the air. Then he feels a sharp drag on him, like he and the rest of the world are suddenly liquid swirling around a sink.
He scrapes a foot against the ground, hurriedly testing how much give it has, then uses his speed to push off, nearly colliding against a wall as he careens away from the vortex. One by one, he sees Mateus’ traps get wrenched from their positions and shatter. Jecht buries his keyblade into the ground to hold himself steady.
The gravity well vanishes as quickly as it appears, but Eden has distance now, enough to pull his one skill card, emblazoned with the image of a white duck, out.
It flickers, and his keyblade shifts shape, splitting into two jagged, glass guns. Jecht’s sweeping towards him, too fast for Eden to question the transformation, so he fires instead, releasing a rain of light on the other boy.
Jecht barely notices. The arrowheads of light score and singe his skin, but he shakes it off without a second thought, and then he’s suddenly too close to fire at. One leg slams against the inside of Eden’s shin, just as a fist hits his chin, sending him reeling back.
When Jecht moves to close the distance again, Eden snaps a leg up and around, a sweeping kick against Jecht’s jaw. That seems to stun him for a moment, and Eden fires off several shots directly into his chest, then turns, building momentum into a jump, and a corkscrew kick down at the other boy’s forehead.
The skill card’s effect putter out as he lands, the guns transforming back into his keyblade. He brings it down towards Jecht, banking on the other boy being dazed.
His keyblade is met with Jecht’s, instead, and this time, even though Eden knows that he should have the advantage, the force of the strike rattles his keyblade, like it barely wants to obey him.
“First card use, huh?” Jecht asks. He shoves and twists, and Eden’s keyblade all but flies out of his hand. “Hate the things, myself. They tax your keyblade, leave it weaker for a few minutes afterwards.”
He dismisses his own keyblade, raising his fists and sweeping in.
The old man grabs Aladdin’s arm, trying to pull him towards the gate, but the boy is transfixed.
“Hey, Abu,” Aladdin says, and the monkey on his shoulder makes an affirmative noise. “Can you distract one of them?”
The monkey makes several outraged noises, and Aladdin’s shoulders tense. “I know, but we’ve gotta do something!”
The monkey gives another noise, bounding off Aladdin’s shoulder.
In a straight-up fistfight, Eden’s sure he should be winning. He’s landing more blows, easily, powerful kicks at Jecht’s legs and face. He can tell they’re having an effect -- but the other boy is dogged, pushing through the pain, and every punch he lands knocks the air out of Eden’s body.
With a sharp crack, Jecht slams his forehead against Eden’s, and all Eden sees are bright lights and sharp strokes of colour, before a rain of blows drives him up against a wall and pins him there.
He doesn’t really see Aladdin’s weird bipedal horse landing on Jecht’s head and scrabbling at his eyes, but he definitely hears it screeching, and Jecht yelling. It gives him an opportunity to summon his keyblade back into his hand, landing a blow against the boy’s chest that sends him flying.
Eden pushes off the wall, rubbing his face, dragging his keyblade along the dust. There’s a jagged mark across the top of Jecht’s torso, venting tiny specks of crystal into the air.
Nearby, Alvis lands in the dirt with a thump. Artie’s smooth voice cuts through the air.
“Jecht, I’m swapping dance partners with you.”
“Don’t you dare,” Jecht growls, as Artie walks past him. She ignores him, murmuring a few words under her breath.
A sharp spike of violet and pink light tears out of her keyblade, making a half dozen jagged turns through the air as it moves towards Eden.
He sees where it’s going to hit, raises his keyblade, lets it land at just the right angle to send it ricocheting off towards Mateus.
Artie smiles. “Fithos Lusec Wecos Vinosec.”
”.ɔɘƨoniV ƨoɔɘW ɔɘƨu⅃ ƨoʜƚiᖷ“ .ƨɘlimƨ ɘiƚɿA
.ƨuɘƚɒM ƨbɿɒwoƚ ʇʇo ǫniƚɘʜɔoɔiɿ ƚi bnɘƨ oƚ ɘlǫnɒ ƚʜǫiɿ ɘʜƚ ƚƨuႱ ƚɒ bnɒl ƚi ƨƚɘl ,ɘbɒldyɘʞ ƨiʜ ƨɘƨiɒɿ ,ƚiʜ oƚ ǫnioǫ ƨ’ƚi ɘɿɘʜw ƨɘɘƨ ɘH
.nɘbƎ ƨbɿɒwoƚ ƨɘvom ƚi ƨɒ ɿiɒ ɘʜƚ ʜǫuoɿʜƚ ƨnɿuƚ bɘǫǫɒႱ nɘzob ʇlɒʜ ɒ ǫniʞɒm ,ɘbɒldyɘʞ ɿɘʜ ʇo ƚuo ƨɿɒɘƚ ƚʜǫil ʞniq bnɒ ƚɘloiv ʇo ɘʞiqƨ qɿɒʜƨ A
A sharp spike of violet and pink tears out of her keyblade, making a half dozen jagged turns through the air as it moves towards Eden.
He sees where it’s going to hit, raises his keyblade to let it land at just the right angle to send it ricocheting off towards Mateus.
It misses his keyblade by a fraction of an inch, and Eden has just enough time to register that this is wrong, before the spike is embedded just below his collarbone, and he’s dragged up through the air, tossed around like a ragdoll before he’s slammed heavily against a wall, as the spike flickers and fades.
“I’m going to call the guards,” Aladdin says.
The old man splutters. “You can’t! Do you want to be arrested again?”
“No!” Aladdin protests. “But this has to stop.”
The old man is sure that nobody else hears the voice, but his eyes are drawn to one of the nearby rooftops anyway. The speaker, the strange little benefactor who told him that the keybearers were coming, is carefully keeping out of sight, but he sees the glint of light off buttons.
Above them, a miasma of shadows and black smoke materialising, its patterns swirling and shifting. The keybearers -- the five on their feet, at least -- stop and look up at it. With a sharp, gulping sound, a dozen spherical Heartless fly out, then a dozen more, then a dozen more, on and on.
Seven Chirithies materialise. In perfect unison: “More Darkballs?”
Aladdin takes the distraction, running in to grab Eden and sling him over his shoulders, while the blonde girl, Freyra, picks up the third member of their group. The Darkballs barely acknowledge that they’re there, focusing single-mindedly on the four new keybearers.
With a noise halfway between alarm and frustration, Mateus sweeps a skill card across his keyblade, summoning a dome of golden light to shield himself with.
The old man gestures Aladdin and Freyra towards the gate, and what feels like an eternity later, they’re outside the city and in the desert, putting as much distance between themselves and Agrabah as they can.
