Author: Temari-Desert-Storm PM
For someone not meant to exist, what significance does existance hold? What kind of existance will that being have? And how do they define it? The dark apprentice considers this as he defines just who he thinks he is.Rated: Fiction K - English - Vanitas - Words: 1,590 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 12 - Follows: 1 - Published: 04-21-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5913115
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
My attempt at writing something stream of consciousness-y, and who better to be my subject then Vanitas? As I note, the name of his Keyblade is something I cooked up because I thought it would be fitting. Enjoy.
What would it take to prove I exist?
How can I make you believe?
Existence is something I treasure the most:
It ties myself to this world.
Existence is vital for living,
But for me, it is all that I have.
I fight for my right to exist here,
And you the obstacle in my path.
Thus, there's only one end to this problem,
So I'll say once to you:
Throughout the almost silent streets of Radiant Garden, the clash of metal and the fizzle of energy bursts could be heard far from its source. The sounds radiated and echoed off the white and grey buildings, buildings that displayed the majesty of the world and its inhabitants. From atop one of those buildings, seated with one leg hanging over the edge, the dark enigma named Vanitas watched the three Keyblade wielders battle. The apprentices of Eraqus were facing off against the Trinity Armor, a special Unversed he had cooked up for the occasion. It separated and rejoined, its pieces spinning and sending out waves of orange energy as it changed from form to form.
Their attempts to defeat it were almost laughable, but they were managing. Ventus managed to get knocked over by one piece every time he stopped to gauge the position of the others. Aqua was cart wheeling and back flipping out of range of all the attacks, but its spinning began when she tried to attack, so her magic had no effect. Terra got points for actually landing hits, but he did so regardless of any damage he was taking. As a result, he was exhausted and injured, not daring to spare a moment to heal.
Vanitas twirled his Keyblade between his hands, watching out of the corner of his eyes at it rotate side over side. It stared back at him, each rotation like a steady and continuous blinking. The metal end would have cut through his hand, but his suit prevented that. All in all, it was just an action to keep his hands occupied. The battle was taking much too long, and he was not known for his patience. He'd been waiting long enough.
Finally, one of the chunks of armor fizzled into nothingness. It was a twinge in the back of his mind, but that was unimportant. The armor changed strategies, responding to his silent metal orders. He continued to watch, blinking slowly to clear the drowsiness from his head.
Why was he doing all of this? He had been wondering that absently for a while, but had never come up with an answer. The Unversed were under his control, but he gave them free reign over most of their actions, so he didn't have much to do. His patience levels ebbed and flowed as he watched; content with watching one moment and itching to intercede the next. Yes, he had orders from his master, but none of them involved stakeouts.
So, the question remained. The answer seemed to exist somewhere, but every time he reached for it, it drifted away on the tide of his consciousness. Maybe it was because he had nothing better to do. With all three apprentices occupied, he didn't have anything to do but wait for them to finish. Then he only had to wait for his master's next orders.
Seeing the Keyblade in his hands, a thought occurred to him. Maybe he wanted something. All three of them wanted something. Terra wanted acceptance. Ven wanted unity. Aqua wanted stability. Even his master wanted something, but for what purpose, he didn't particularly care. What did he want?
To Vanitas, that was a question that required some thought to answer. Another piece of the armor vanished in the back of his mind. He sighed. The giant Unversed was becoming more of a hindrance than a help. Placing his Keyblade down beside him, he pulled off his helmet and placed it on top of his weapon, his hand lingering there to trace nonexistent imperfections in its glossy surface. With his other hand, he brushed the sweat out of his hair, letting it spring back up into its messy spikes when he finished.
At last, the third piece of the armor disintegrated and the Keybladers congregated in the middle of the square, where they began a discussion. Vanitas picked up most of it, able to make it out clearer without his helmet in the way. It mostly revolved around the older apprentices berating Ven for being there and the younger apprentices concerned about Terra's behavior.
The dark warrior watched Ventus intently. The young Keyblader was so innocent and naïve, it almost made him sick. It took most of his willpower to remember that Ven was completely pure. Ven was the light, and Vanitas was his darkness. Two halves of the same picture, but Ven was the colorful image on the front, and he was only the backside, the blank side that no one ever saw. The part of him that grudgingly acknowledged it hated that.
Maybe that was what he wanted. Maybe he wanted what Ventus had. The boy was the main part of their existence. He was the one who was supposed to exist. Vanitas, as the sentient being of his darkness, was only a fragment, something that was never meant to have a consciousness. Ven had nothing in the world to care about other than his friends, and friends were something he easily made.
Was he feeling jealous?
His yellow eyes followed Terra's path as he stormed away angrily, and then back to the group as Aqua traipsed off in the other direction. Ventus lingered there for a moment before he left as well, taking his own path from the square. Divergent paths. Divergent fates. The irony of it all made the edge of his mouth turn up in a cruel smile, but his mind was not satisfied with that.
Jealously. Was he jealous? Did he want what Ventus had? Did he want acceptance, friends, comfort and support? It was hard to say. The dark apprentice had never thought about it before. He'd never seen the need.
Acceptance: who had he ever needed to accept him? All that was important was that he followed his master's orders. As long as he did that, he had all the acceptance he needed.
Friends: had he ever needed them? He was content on his own, and when he had needed company, his master was there. Apparently, however, there was something more to friends than company, but it was something he knew he would never understand. Darkness wasn't part of those emotions.
Comfort and support were just as useless. He needed no comfort other than the fact that he existed, and all he needed for support was himself. From the outside, it may have seemed like a lonely existence, but it was his existence, and it was the one thing he actually had any emotion towards.
His existence. He didn't have a right to exist. That was the problem.
Without having realized it, he had begun twirling his Keyblade in his hands again, so he stopped and stared at it. Rightful Vengeance, he had called it in the absence of a real name. Now, it seemed fitting. He had a right to continue existing, now that he did, and his Keyblade was a tool to exterminate anyone who believed otherwise. His vengeance against them was justified in that way.
"All existence is linked to it," he muttered, staring up at the sky, "Mine is just a step further away."
Footsteps signaled his company, but he had already sensed his master's approach. "How was it?"
His master's dry, airy voice replied, "Everything went as I had expected."
Vanitas dropped his eyes to meet his master's, ignoring the light breeze that shifted through his black spikes. "Has it?"
"Terra has fallen from the grace of the Light. He's accepted my guidance."
"Then all we have left to do is proceed with the next part of the plan?"
"There may have to be some alterations. I believe Eraqus is beginning to suspect me. If he starts observing our actions too closely, he could link the Unversed back to us."
A smile crept onto Vanitas' face, a dark excited smile. "Another job for me to take care of, then?"
"I have a better plan, something that will further our goals."
With a grunt of stiffness, the dark apprentice stood up, Keyblade in one hand, helmet in the other. He put the helmet back on, making sure to keep the back edge close to his scalp so it could push his moppy hair away from his forehead. Having settled it on his head, he turned back. "I'll leave that to you, of course. It's time to proceed with my part."
"No mistakes. Don't underestimate them."
Vanitas barely managed to contain his laughter. His mouth twisted into a smirk and his eyes burned with a mischievous fire that would have burned deep gashes into anyone's soul. "I should think it would be the other way around."
Giving his master a theatrical bow, he surrounded himself in darkness and left the brilliance of Radiant Garden behind.