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Sep. 19th, 2021 11:32 pmEden is finding that he and Ephemera make a good team.
Maybe too good a team, for people who have just met. Eden knows, by instinct, what Ephemera’s blind spots are, where and when he’ll leave himself open, exactly how to move to cover for those lapses. Ephemera, in turn, seems to always know when Eden’s guard is going to drop, moving to protect him each time before flowing into another attack against Ifrit.
Once, Eden catches the Black Chirithy watching them from beyond the smoke, before it turns and retreats with a disgusted snort.
Which leaves Ifrit. It’s clearly not used to being unable to simply brute force its way past problems. Eden and Ephemera alternate defense and attack, making sure one of them is always battering at Ifrit’s guard while the other one defends, then switching roles whenever it seems to rally -- and bit by bit, Eden sees Ifrit forced back, stumbling and losing ground.
Ephemera rebounds off Eden’s shoulders, spinning into a high attack while Eden sweeps in low, a joint maneuver that they never practiced and Eden doesn’t remember ever learning, but which sends Ifrit tumbling back into a building, the shroud of flame around him flickering out.
They both raise their keyblades, white flames billowing around them.
“Limit Break,” Eden starts.
“Limit Break,” Ephemera continues.
“Lion’s …”
“Lion’s …”
“... Roar.”
“... Roar.”
Two torrents of light engulf Ifrit, and Eden feels another spike of pain in his chest, just before the massive Heartless boils away, flame and shadow collapsing in on themselves before fizzling away to black smoke.
Eden dismisses his keyblade, watching out of the corner of his eye as Ephemera does the same. The other boy stretches his arms, lacing his fingers together and straining both hands above his head, before swinging on his heel and offering a handshake.
“I guess introductions are in order,” he chirps, “I’m -- …”
“You’re Ephemera,” Eden says, more flatly than he should. He doesn’t, somehow, have the energy to put on his usual performance right now.
“Right,” Ephemera says easily, “and you’re Eden. We’ve met before.”
“Have we?”
“Must’ve done, right? I might not remember it, but we definitely know each other, you know?”
Eden frowns, but doesn’t say anything. It’s an intellectual curiosity, but he’s not sure he actually has the capacity to be bothered by it. Nevertheless, he can feel a twitching in his chest, the painful, out-of-rhythm spasming of some muscle there that he’s never felt before. A heartbeat, of sorts, even if each individual beat is separated by seconds sometimes and minutes others.
“My Chirithy?” He asks.
“He was back in Daybreak Town. He couldn’t find you, people are saying that you just sort of -- vanished outside his ability to track you,” Ephemera replies.
“Can’t have done that good a job, if you found me.”
“I could just kind of sense you. Call it a kind of instinct, I guess? I don’t know.” He doesn’t seem all that embarrassed by not knowing.
Eden breathes out through his teeth, turning towards the burning central square. “The world’s overrun. If we want to get rid of the Heartless, then -- …”
“Hey.” Ephemera’s voice is gentle, but firm. “I said I could sense you, but I didn’t say anything about coming alone.”
Above them, a corridor opens, then another, and dozens more, keybearers tumbling out of them like stars falling to earth. Ten first, then twenty, then fifty, descending into La Cite des Cloches to turn back the tide of Heartless.
Maybe too good a team, for people who have just met. Eden knows, by instinct, what Ephemera’s blind spots are, where and when he’ll leave himself open, exactly how to move to cover for those lapses. Ephemera, in turn, seems to always know when Eden’s guard is going to drop, moving to protect him each time before flowing into another attack against Ifrit.
Once, Eden catches the Black Chirithy watching them from beyond the smoke, before it turns and retreats with a disgusted snort.
Which leaves Ifrit. It’s clearly not used to being unable to simply brute force its way past problems. Eden and Ephemera alternate defense and attack, making sure one of them is always battering at Ifrit’s guard while the other one defends, then switching roles whenever it seems to rally -- and bit by bit, Eden sees Ifrit forced back, stumbling and losing ground.
Ephemera rebounds off Eden’s shoulders, spinning into a high attack while Eden sweeps in low, a joint maneuver that they never practiced and Eden doesn’t remember ever learning, but which sends Ifrit tumbling back into a building, the shroud of flame around him flickering out.
They both raise their keyblades, white flames billowing around them.
“Limit Break,” Eden starts.
“Limit Break,” Ephemera continues.
“Lion’s …”
“Lion’s …”
“... Roar.”
“... Roar.”
Two torrents of light engulf Ifrit, and Eden feels another spike of pain in his chest, just before the massive Heartless boils away, flame and shadow collapsing in on themselves before fizzling away to black smoke.
Eden dismisses his keyblade, watching out of the corner of his eye as Ephemera does the same. The other boy stretches his arms, lacing his fingers together and straining both hands above his head, before swinging on his heel and offering a handshake.
“I guess introductions are in order,” he chirps, “I’m -- …”
“You’re Ephemera,” Eden says, more flatly than he should. He doesn’t, somehow, have the energy to put on his usual performance right now.
“Right,” Ephemera says easily, “and you’re Eden. We’ve met before.”
“Have we?”
“Must’ve done, right? I might not remember it, but we definitely know each other, you know?”
Eden frowns, but doesn’t say anything. It’s an intellectual curiosity, but he’s not sure he actually has the capacity to be bothered by it. Nevertheless, he can feel a twitching in his chest, the painful, out-of-rhythm spasming of some muscle there that he’s never felt before. A heartbeat, of sorts, even if each individual beat is separated by seconds sometimes and minutes others.
“My Chirithy?” He asks.
“He was back in Daybreak Town. He couldn’t find you, people are saying that you just sort of -- vanished outside his ability to track you,” Ephemera replies.
“Can’t have done that good a job, if you found me.”
“I could just kind of sense you. Call it a kind of instinct, I guess? I don’t know.” He doesn’t seem all that embarrassed by not knowing.
Eden breathes out through his teeth, turning towards the burning central square. “The world’s overrun. If we want to get rid of the Heartless, then -- …”
“Hey.” Ephemera’s voice is gentle, but firm. “I said I could sense you, but I didn’t say anything about coming alone.”
Above them, a corridor opens, then another, and dozens more, keybearers tumbling out of them like stars falling to earth. Ten first, then twenty, then fifty, descending into La Cite des Cloches to turn back the tide of Heartless.
