The Underworld, First Visit:
In Which Abandonment Is An Issue
They emerged on the ramparts by the bailey, and even knowing that nothing should have happened without their knowledge, Roxas glanced around warily to make certain that everything was still in place. There was no sign of organization out on the plains teeming with Heartless past the walled city, no wreckage in their immediate vicinity; nothing alarming at all except for the purple smoke coming out the crooked chimney of Merlin's house.
"Don't look so nervous," Axel told him wryly. "This place isn't any darker than it was last time we were here."
How reassuring. Roxas gave him a withering look, but for some reason he did feel reassured. They headed down to the house with only a minor incident, harmless Shadows and Soldiers that were found everywhere in Hollow Bastion, and so Roxas's blood was pleasantly racing by the time he got to knock on the door.
There was no answer.
After another knock without answer, he tried the door and found it unlocked. Roxas glanced back at the others.
Namine suggested softly, "There probably isn't a lot of crime or anything here... And I've never seen a Heartless open a door."
It made sense. Roxas shrugged and let them in. A stillness reigned in the house: there were no sounds of dishwashing coming from the kitchen, and no one was tinkering at the computer, and there were no footsteps upstairs. It was like the house had been abandoned.
"This has gotta be the quietest I've ever seen this place," Axel said, smirking, but even he didn't sound as pleased as he should have. He set Roxas's surrogate heart down on the sofa, freeing up his hands as he crossed in silence over to the kitchen door to nudge it open and peer in.
"There's a note on the computer," Namine pointed out, relieved. Roxas hung back, letting her cross over to pick it up. "It's from Aerith. But..."
She brought it to Roxas, and he shifted to lean against the back of the couch while he scanned it. It began, Dear Roxas, Namine, and Axel, If you get back before we return, I'm very sorry you'll find the place so deserted. Something came up and most of us stepped out. Hopefully we'll be back soon, but if anything happens we'll return right away. There's leftovers in the fridge, and Merlin knows how to contact us. With love...
Roxas paused at the bottom, and then started from the top and read it over again. "They just -- left?" he said, disbelieving.
"Wow," Axel said, closing in on them and folding his arms over his chest. "Talk about dedication. You sure we want to save this place?"
Roxas crumpled the paper in his hands, feeling irrationally betrayed. It wasn't like he'd left because he wanted to; he'd left because he couldn't fight the way he had been. He had gone so that he'd be able to defend Hollow Bastion when the time came. But he'd only allowed Axel and Namine to come with him because he was confident that this place would be well-defended in their absence.
To come back and find nothing more tangible than a note left to protect Hollow Bastion made it feel like his efforts were going to waste. Like maybe he'd overestimated their love of their home. And if they didn't care about it, why should anyone else?
"What could possibly have happened that every single one of them had to leave at the same time!"
The door to the kitchen banged open and a thin purple haze wafted out of what appeared to be the stairs to the basement, followed by Merlin, coughing. "A, aha, Cid, is that you? There's been an unfortunate--" He blinked owlishly at the trio, and then let out another hacking cough. "O-- Oh. None of you are Cid at all."
Roxas rubbed the back of his neck, feeling vaguely abashed. Had he sounded that angry?
"No, Merlin," Namine said, her lips quirking up in a reluctant smile. "It's us. Is something wrong?"
The old man kept coughing, but he managed, "Ah, I was -- trying to make some tea. Until the tea kettle got uppity!" He glowered back at the doorway.
Brilliant. Their only eye-witness was this half-batty old wizard. Roxas rubbed at his face. They were never going to find out what had happened to the others.
"I've been waiting for the others to get back to help wrestle it back down. After that messenger arrived, everyone got so flustered--"
"Messenger?" Axel repeated, eyes narrowing.
Perhaps summoned by the question, an Assassin spiraled out of the ceiling, and observed in Roxas's mind, A messenger from the master of the Underworld.
He'd completely forgotten the Nobody they had left stationed in the house -- or above the house -- but he'd never been so relieved to see someone else's servants. Finally, a reliable account, Roxas thought, and glanced around to make sure that everyone else had heard as well. Namine seemed startled, and Merlin was nodding his agreement.
Axel asked mildly, "So what did he have to say, this messenger?"
It told them there was a tournament about to take place in the Coliseum -- different than the others. The Assassin landed neatly on its feet and then straightened out, looking at Axel rather than anyone else, but its words still audible to them all. The winning team is supposed to get a meeting with people who are important to them but had already crossed into the Underworld.
Some of Roxas's indignation faded at that. That was a very, very big prize; the sort of opportunity that only came around once in a lifetime, and must have weighed heavily on the household. How many mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, first loves and best friends must they all have lost, when so few people had survived the destruction of Hollow Bastion?
In a way, he couldn't blame them.
But there were more ways that he could. His jaw set, and he demanded, "It couldn't even wait until we were back? They just had to hope we'd return in time?"
The Assassin turned its head to glance at him. ...The messenger said that if they didn't go back with it immediately, they wouldn't be allowed to enter at all. They argued for a while, but only the flower-smelling woman didn't want to go. They left as soon as she had finished writing her note.
Shit. There was no point in Aerith remaining behind when the really powerful fighters had already gone to the Underworld.
"Such nonsense," Merlin said, shaking his head and stroking his beard restlessly. "Dwelling on death makes it difficult to move forward -- too difficult."
He seemed inescapably sad, and didn't meet any of their eyes. "Or backward," he added after a beat, strangely. The wizard turned around, muttering something to himself, and then returned to his hazy lair.
Roxas glanced at the others, eyebrows lifted; Namine shrugged helplessly and Axel rolled his eyes. At least they were all in agreement on the oddity.
"So what do we do?" Namine asked, hushed.
"This tournament is not more important than Hollow Bastion," Roxas said flatly. The dead are not more important than the living. "We go after them, and we bring them back."
Then he said, slower, "Or at least, I am." He eyed the Nobodies thoughtfully.
Namine looked flustered. "What's... that look for?"
"It might be best if you two stay here."
Immediately Axel said, "Not gonna happen."
Roxas said irritably, "I'm just going to the Coliseum to yell at them, I'm not going to fight in it. I'm going to go there and come back. And in the meantime, Hollow Bastion will have fighters to defend it."
"If it's just a go and come back thing, there's no problem with me going with you," Axel said imperturbably, seconded by Namine's anxious, "And me!"
"Oh, come on."
In the end, they did all go, stepping out onto the brightly-lit sands of the Coliseum together. They had dropped the heart off in Roxas and Axel's bedroom and left all the Assassins behind with strict instructions of what to do if the Organization began its attack.
Roxas had vague memories of Sora's time in the Coliseum and he had arrived expecting the same sort of thing -- cheering crowds, paper cups with crumpled plastic lids and straws littering the ground, robed citizens going past to the arena with big foam hands printed with strange lettering neither Sora or Roxas recognized. He was surprised to find the Coliseum just as deserted now as Merlin's house had been.
He moved closer to the entrance, looking around curiously, and caught sight of something just around a column; a cascade of pink, a long brunette tail. Aerith? he thought, and took a few quicker steps toward her.
When the woman turned around to look at him he realized immediately that she was not Aerith at all.
"You're not from Hades," she said, her voice flat.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "My name is Roxas. We thought there was a tournament here..."
She snorted inelegantly. "More dupes for that damn tournament."
Roxas frowned. "Dupes? It's not real?"
"Oh, it's real, all right. But Hades doesn't just give away anything unless he thinks he's going to get something he wants in return."
He looked over his shoulder at Axel and Namine as they caught up with him; their expressions told him that they'd overheard, Namine's obvious concern and Axel's obvious exasperation. He turned back and said, "What does he want?"
The woman gave him a look of such incredible disdain that he almost felt like he should apologize for asking. "If we knew that, we wouldn't just be standing here. The kid's all worked up over it," she said, gesturing vaguely. Roxas followed her wave and saw only a cloud of dust, and the darker silhouette of what seemed to be a man rhythmically punching an immense boulder.
He could feel Axel's desire to stay out of it increasing with every answer, but Roxas couldn't help thinking it might be important to know what exactly their friends had walked into.
"It sounds suicidal, but why not join the tournament, if he's that curious?" Roxas pressed.
The woman gazed off into the distance. "Because the rules state that every member of a team must have lost someone they loved."
It wasn't an unfair rule, considering that they wouldn't be able to claim the prize if they didn't have someone to be reunited with. He could empathize with their frustration -- but he didn't share it. "I'm sorry about your friend," Roxas said evenly, "but we need to go get our friends out of there before they get in trouble."
She gave him another glance, more measuring. "...you're not looking because you want to join the tournament?"
"I don't have any dead to chase after," he said in a grim tone. "I'm chasing the living."
After a moment, the woman nodded, offering some amount of grudging respect. "I'm Meg," she said, bracing her hands on her generous hips. "C'mon. I'll show you where to go."
"You mean it isn't here?" he asked, frowning.
Meg shook her head, long cascade of brown hair shaking behind her. "Not this time. Hades wants to play by his own rules, so he started his own tournament." She strode past them, not waiting to look back and make certain they were following her. "This time, the tournament is being fought in the Underworld."
Hurrying to walk alongside her, Roxas was just able to catch a glimpse of the sour smile on her lips.
"If you want to meet the dead, you have to go to where they live."
NEXT >>> The Underworld, First Visit (Part 2)