Kingdom Hearts fic: All Strange Wonders - Chapter 10

[mistressofmuses]

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After Sora had sputtered a little bit at the request, Riku explained his plan.

“The king seems to have decided that he wants me to be his new Royal Wizard. I’m not interested in the position, so I have to find a way to convince him that I’m not the right person for the job.”

“Why do you hate the idea of being the Royal Wizard?” Sora asked. “It seems like an important position.”

He thought about Riku’s mother cornering him, telling him how he’d wasted his time, never amounted to anything…

“It’s important,” Riku agreed. “And it’s difficult. I don’t want that level of responsibility! It’s only a matter of time before the next Royal Wizard is sent out against the Warlock of the Wasteland, and I have no desire for that to be me.”

A good amount of Sora’s sympathy vanished. “So you’re lazy, and you just want to get out of having to do any real work.”

“Some thanks! I’m wounded! I come with gifts, asking you merely for some help as my assistant, and you insult me!”

Sora didn’t want to appear completely ungrateful. “I appreciate it. I really do mean it when I say these would be the nicest clothes I have ever worn. But I still can’t meet the king for you! Shouldn’t you go yourself? I’m sure you could explain to him that it just wouldn’t work out.”

Riku shook his head. “No, no. I can’t go myself. He’ll just think I’m being modest or some such nonsense. It will be much more effective if you do it. We’ll pretend that you’re going to accept the job proposal for me, but you’ll do it in a way that makes it clear that I’ll be terrible at it. That, and once it’s clear that I’m too unreliable to even go myself, the king should reconsider.”

Sora felt the fine linen of the shirt again. It was a softer dove grey than the darker trousers and jacket. “I guess I can try.”

If nothing else, it was true that Riku was a bad fit for Royal Wizard. If he was willing to go to the effort of sending Sora in his place just to get out of it, he’d put even more effort into getting out of anything the king asked. To say nothing of the expense he was going to with the clothing. It would probably be doing everyone a favor if Sora could convince the king that Riku would be a bad choice.

“Tomorrow, then,” Riku said. “We’ll head to the palace in the morning.”

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“Do you remember what you’re supposed to say to the king?” Riku asked.

The streets of Radiant Garden were warm and bright. Sora was trying to keep up with Riku, but he was distracted, looking around at the city itself. The buildings were taller, the streets wider, everything more impressive than anyplace he’d ever been.

Riku paused and turned back toward him. Sora almost ran straight into his back, as he was staring up at the tallest building he’d ever seen.

“Focus, please! Do you remember what you’re supposed to say?”

“Oh.” Sora tugged at the sleeve of his jacket. “Yeah. I’ll make sure to tell him that you won’t be a good Royal Wizard.”

“But you have to be subtle about it,” said Riku. “You can’t just say I’ll be bad at it. You have to let him come to that conclusion himself.”

“Right. Of course.” Sora fidgeted with the sleeve again. It was soft, and very well-tailored, and he felt overdressed. And the day was extremely warm, more like summer than spring.

Riku raised an eyebrow. “Does the suit fit properly?”

“Perfectly,” Sora answered honestly. He suspected Riku may have magically ensured that. “But wouldn’t it be more effective to your message to send me in rags?”

“I can’t have the king thinking I don’t treat my assistant well.”

Sora sighed. Riku was so concerned about his reputation, but totally inconsistent about it. In Twilight Town he wanted to people to believe he was evil and eating the hearts of the innocent and unwary. In Traverse Town, he set up shop selling spells for less than they were worth, according to Kairi. In Radiant Garden, he wanted to be known as powerful enough to be hired by the king, yet too flakey to be trusted with more.

They resumed walking, and Sora kept craning his neck, trying to see the buildings. It wasn’t just their size, but that they were so much more ornate than Sora was used to. Carved marble fronts, sometimes gargoyles perched on corners, decorative wrought iron railings in front of impossibly tall windows…

“If you think this is impressive, you’ll be absolutely shocked by the palace. Are you going to be able to do this?”

Sora felt himself blush a bit. He had to seem like a country bumpkin, never having seen a city before. “I’ll be fine.”

They passed through a wide square, centered around an enormous fountain. The central sculpture in the fountain was a huge bouquet of flowers, water arcing out from their centers. The water looked wonderfully cool, and Sora would have loved to go sit near it, like several groups of people were doing, but Riku kept going.

Riku had been right: the palace was shocking. It rose up like the fairytale image of a castle, at the top of a tall, magnificent set of terraced stairs. Uniformed guards, each with a sword at their hip, stood on every tenth stair, which helped Sora do the mental math that there were 150 steps from the ground up to the enormous doors.

“I can’t come with you,” Riku said. “Just tell them that you’re there to see the king on my behalf. You’ll be fine. Just remember what you’re here to do.”

“I will.”

“I’ll come back and meet you here in about two hours. That should be plenty of time to convince the king of my tragic unsuitability.”

Sora nodded, staring up the endless staircase. He swallowed hard, and began to climb.

It was hot enough that the climb wasn’t a terribly comfortable one. As fine and breathable as the clothing was, it was still quite warm out, and the stairs were in full sun. The stairs that didn’t have guards stationed on them had heavy planters full of flowers, representing every color of the rainbow. They were more ordered than the gardens at Naminé’s cottage—which Sora thought were nicer—but they were still a pleasant thing to see on the walk up.

I suppose it makes sense, for a city called Radiant Garden.

There were wider terraces after every 50 stairs, and he allowed himself to rest long enough to catch his breath at both before starting up the next set of stairs, though he didn’t let himself dawdle.

At the top, the pair of guards stationed at either side of the door stepped forward, blocking access into the palace.

“State your name and business,” said one of them, a blond carrying a sword as tall as he was.

Yikes.

“I am assistant to the Sorcerer Riku, here to see the king on his behalf.” That sounded good, right?

“And your name?”

“I… uh… It’s not important.”

The guard shifted ever so slightly to block the door.

“I mean, my name… it’s not relevant to the message I’m carrying.”

The guard narrowed his very blue eyes.

Sora tried to figure out how he was going to explain to Riku that he hadn’t even made it inside the palace.

Then the guard who’d spoken stepped to the side. The other guard followed, and opened the doors.

Stepping inside was a relief, as it was far cooler inside than it had been in the sun, but it also represented the end of what Sora had even begun to plan for.

Inside were servants, in similar uniforms to the guards, though without the obvious weaponry. “Your business?” asked one, as the doors closed behind Sora.

“I’m here to see the king. I’m representing Sorcerer Riku?” He didn’t mean for it to be a question, but that was what it came out sounding like.

“Ah! Yes, right this way, sir.”

Sora wasn’t sure that he’d ever been called “sir” before.

The servant led him to a room, paneled in more shades of wood than Sora had known existed, as if every kind of tree in the world had been used in its construction. The panels were arranged in a gradient, so that the ones surrounding the door they entered through were such a deep brown they were nearly black, and the ones around the door on the opposite side of the room were practically white. The walls in between went through every imaginable shade of brown and gold and pale grey.

Sora would happily have gawked at that room for an hour, forgetting his worry about seeming provincial or foolish, but he didn’t have a chance.

A different servant, dressed in the same livery, was waiting by the door surrounded by light wood, and the first servant handed Sora over to her with a gentle nod.

“To the king? Right this way, sir.”

She led him into a new room, one with a domed ceiling painted like the night sky, with the constellations drawn in fine silver inlay.

“Please wait here,” she directed. “The king will see you shortly.” She bowed to him, and exited through a different door.

This time Sora did have the chance to gawk, and he took full advantage, admiring the craftsmanship of the ceiling, which was a mosaic of deep blue and black, with the stars picked out in white gemstones, and the constellations made of the finest silver wire he’d ever seen.

It provided a nice distraction from the fact that he was about to meet the king.

Sooner than he’d expected, the servant was back.

“The king will meet with you now,” she said, gesturing toward the open door behind her.

She led Sora through. In the new room, she bowed deeply. “King Ansem the Wise, I present Riku’s assistant sorcerer.”

That should have been assistant to the sorcerer, but Sora wasn’t going to correct her. He also bowed, unsure if he was doing so exactly correctly, but figuring the attempt was more respectful than doing nothing.

“Wonderful, thank you. Welcome, assistant sorcerer. You may rise, Assistant. Please, feel free to sit down if it makes you more comfortable.”

The king’s voice was deep, but surprisingly friendly sounding.

King Ansem was standing behind a desk, looking over a sprawl of papers. The room itself was filled with plants, in keeping with the apparently accurate name of ‘Radiant Garden.’ There was a chair in front of the desk.

“Oh, I’m not a sorcerer,” Sora protested. “Just assistant to one.” He still took the offered seat. His legs felt weak and achy from the climb up the stairs.

“There are times for modesty, but not when they interfere with honesty. You clearly have magical talent of your own, whether trained or not.”

Sora wanted to protest again, but the words wouldn’t make it past his lips. Had he been doing little spells, when he told a knife to help someone feel more confident? When he’d had Kairi walk him through making a lucky charm? Naminé said it ran in families…

“Do you have news from Sorcerer Riku?” the king prompted.

Sora shook off his own thoughts. “Ah, yes. I do.”

And every gentle, subtle, clever thing that Riku had suggested completely vanished from Sora’s head.

“Um. That is, Riku can’t be the Royal Wizard,” he blurted. Damn.

“Oh? And why is that?” King Ansem looked up. His eyes were a golden color. His face was stern, but there was a hint of a smile around his mouth. Other than his eyes, he looked… ordinary.

“He’s unreliable,” said Sora.

“Is he?” Ansem stroked his neatly trimmed goatee.

Sora had already botched their careful plan. Hopefully just being completely honest would be enough. “It’s not that he doesn’t have the skill, but he genuinely just can’t handle responsibility. Even when he has a job to do, he’ll disappear for days at a time, visiting or courting. But then even that he can’t take seriously.”

“And you believe that he would treat the duties of Royal Wizard the same way?”

Sora nodded emphatically. “He’s terrible about avoiding his problems. He can be completely overdramatic sometimes. He even started a rumor once that he ate hearts. But then he’ll also do things that seem just bafflingly kind. Inconsistency seems to be the most consistent thing about him!”

“I see. I appreciate you bringing all of these concerns to my attention.”

Sora let out a sigh of relief. “Of course, your majesty.”

“I will send a messenger right away to make the appointment official.” King Ansem the Wise smiled.

“Wait… But I just told you—”

King Ansem held up a hand to stop him. “Yes, and I heard you. I imagine that having his assistant come here to say all of these things was supposed to further the impression of his untrustworthiness, yes?”

Sora bit his tongue. He’d really messed this up.

“However,” the king continued, “It has actually done a great deal to reassure me that I made the correct decision. Riku protested so little when he was first offered the position that I was concerned I had made a mistake. I didn’t want to appoint someone overconfident or cocky. But the fact that he sent you to try and talk me out of it actually proves he is far more suited to the position than he thinks.”

“That’s not at all how this was supposed to go!” Sora clapped his hand over his mouth. That was not an appropriate way to speak to a king!

“Please, I do understand his feelings. However, my mind is made up that he is my new Royal Wizard. I will send a messenger to make it official. If there’s nothing else, I can have someone show you out.”

Sora got to his feet. “Thank you, your majesty.” The words came out sounding flat, but he didn’t know what more he could say. There was clearly no point in protesting further.

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The woman who led Sora away this time wasn’t one he’d met before, though she wore the same livery as everyone else had been. Even so, she didn’t seem like a servant. She had long, dark hair, and looked like she could have laid him out with a single punch if she wanted to.

He had an impression of more amazingly grand rooms—one paneled entirely in mirrors, which gave a disorienting impression of infinite space; another filled with detailed, full-body portraits that seemed ready to step out of their frames; yet another room of green plants and flowers in pots, so it was like being hauled through an indoor forest—but never had a chance to linger.

The woman gently ushered him to the front doors. Sora was grateful that someone had shown him the way out, since he absolutely would have been lost otherwise, but the whole thing felt very… rushed.

Going down the stairs was far less tiring than going up, but he probably took longer. He was not looking forward to explaining just how completely he’d messed up their plan.

The whole trip to and from the king hadn’t taken nearly as long as they’d planned on, and Riku was not waiting at the base of the stairs. Sora weighed the option of waiting here for him against the option of heading back to the castle’s Radiant Garden door on his own.

He already felt a bit sick to his stomach at how badly this had gone, and it seemed like waiting around in dread was only going to make it worse. He vaguely remembered what the castle’s door looked like from this side. It was wood, set in a painted plaster wall, with a sign advertising Sorcerous Remedies, Inquire Within next to the door.

He started back down the wide thoroughfare.

Would Riku kick him out, just sending him on his way? What then? He wasn’t going to be able to help Kairi with the contract if he wasn’t even there. To say nothing of his own curse. Maybe she’d speak up in favor of letting him stay? If Riku did let him stay, Sora was probably going to have to spend weeks in the hills looking for weird plants.

He vaguely noticed the big fountain, but didn’t stop. He could have, but he wouldn’t have been able to enjoy it.

Still lost in spiraling thoughts of how he was probably going to wind up alone and friendless in Radiant Garden, when Riku closed the door on him and refused to even let him back into the castle as punishment for his failure, Sora didn’t take enough notice of his surroundings. When he did finally look up, it was to find he was on a narrow lane, lined on both sides with potted saplings. This was not one of the roads he’d followed Riku down when heading to the palace. He was lost.

There didn’t even seem to be any people around that he could ask to help him. He turned around, hoping to at least backtrack to someplace more familiar, but the street seemed to stretch on and on in both directions.

Someone was approaching from the far end.

Sora raised a hand in greeting before he’d really taken a look at the person, just glad to see someone who might help him. Even if they didn’t know how to find “Sorcerous Remedies,” maybe they could point him back toward the big fountain, and he could try again to find his way.

He was about to call out to them, when the words turned to ash in his mouth.

It was the Warlock of the Wasteland. He was as imposing as Sora remembered, silver hair catching in the light, and eyes a predator-gold.

There was nowhere to run or hide, so Sora just stayed where he was.

The Warlock of the Wasteland’s incongruously young face lit up a bit when he saw Sora, and he smiled unpleasantly.

“Ah, I never forget someone I’ve cursed. So, the nameless little shopkeeper. You’re a long way from home,” he said as he approached.

Sora licked dry lips. “Took the curse as an excuse to travel. Nothing tying me down to Twilight Town anymore.”

“So you came all the way to the capital? That was ambitious. I wouldn’t have guessed you had it in you.”

Sora raised his chin just a bit. “Well… I did. And now I’m here to…” he froze for a moment. He had to lie. He couldn’t let the Warlock of the Wasteland know that Riku was here. But he was terrible at lying, and horribly afraid that the Warlock would see through anything that wasn’t at least a little bit true. “To see the king,” he finished.

“To see the king?” The Warlock sounded amused, which seemed less dangerous than annoyed, but was still uncomfortable. “But will the king agree to see you?”

“Of course he will,” said Sora. “I have an important petition. To… er… improve working conditions for shopkeepers. I want to return to my trade, but overwork is a serious concern in the industry.”

The Warlock of the Wasteland’s smile grew even more unpleasant, and Sora had the horrible feeling he didn’t believe that part at all.

“Well then, it sounds like a terribly important petition. I simply couldn’t bear it if you didn’t get a chance to deliver it. Shall I walk you to the palace?”

Sora swallowed. “I’m sure I can find it myself.”

“Oh no, I insist. You were heading the wrong way.”

“Was I?” Sora’s confusion, at least, was completely genuine. He’d sworn he was going back toward the square with the fountain.

“Yes. Now, let’s get you to the palace.”

The Warlock of the Wasteland kept walking, and Sora was forced to turn around and follow him. He took a turn down a side road that Sora had completely missed before.

“What brings you to Radiant Garden?” Sora asked. “Someone set up a hat shop you don’t like or something?” He could have kicked himself. Taunting the Warlock that had ruined his life was not one of the better decisions he’d made, probably. Somehow the bitterness had just spilled over, talking to the only person who could remember him from before. Not that the Warlock had really known him before placing the curse.

“Not everyone invites my intervention,” the Warlock replied. “But I don’t spend all of my time out in the Wasteland. After more than a century and a half, any place would grow rather dull.”

A century and a half. Sora gulped. Everyone knew the Warlock had been out there that long, but it was still a shock to think about. “Your ‘intervention?’”

“Not every little magic-user decides to set themselves up as a heart-worker. A competitor. Influencing things you shouldn’t.”

That confirmed it, then; the king had been right. Apparently Xion wasn’t the only one with some magical gift in the family. Not that it had done Sora much good.

They were walking past the fountain now, but even back on what passed for familiar territory, Sora couldn’t exactly get away. Just a couple more turns and…

“And here we are at the palace. If you have an appointment with the king, I’m sure they’ll let you in.”

Smallest of favors, Riku still wasn’t waiting. Either it still hadn’t been two hours, or it had been so long he’d given up on waiting.

Sora stared back up the 150 stairs. Climbing them a second time had not been in his plans for the day, but it didn’t look like he had a choice. “Thank you so much for the help,” he said dryly. “Don’t suppose you’d lift the curse, just so I can introduce myself when I get there?”

“No, I don’t think I will. Apparently you’ll manage, if they’re already expecting you.”

“Are you coming? Planning to see the king while you’re here?”

“My business is elsewhere. But if you would, I would appreciate you passing on a message to him. Remind him that I hold him responsible for my exile in the Wasteland. It was his grandfather who forced me to stay there, but as far as I’m concerned, that blame has passed to him. You can tell him I’ll enjoy continuing to take every hero this country throws to me.”

Sora felt a chill all the way down his spine at the vindictive, cruel promise contained in that sentence. He didn’t respond, but started the climb.

The cheery flowers were less soothing the second time, and the guards’ impassiveness more frustrating. Finally at the top, the same guard as before stepped in front of him again.

“Please state your name and your business.”

“I’m here to see the king,” Sora said. He didn’t know if the Warlock of the Wasteland could somehow hear him up here, but he’d rather leave Riku’s name out of it, just in case. “I had an appointment.”

The guard stared at him again, and Sora tried hard not to fidget under the too-intense blue of his gaze. He knew the man had to remember him.

“Very well.” The guard stepped aside to open the doors.

Sora took one last glance down the stairs, and saw the Warlock staring back at him. He wasn’t sure from this distance whether the Warlock looked surprised, or grudgingly impressed.

Inside, the same woman who’d escorted him back to the front after the first meeting was speaking with a couple other people in uniform. When she spotted him, she broke away from them.

“Back so soon?” she asked.

Sora nodded. “There was something else I had to tell the king.”

“I see.” She stared at him, like she was sizing him up. He hadn’t thought she seemed like a servant the first time, and he was even more certain of that now. “Come with me, then.”

She led him briskly back through the room of every color of wood imaginable, and into the room with the night sky ceiling. She left him there again, while she went through the door to inform King Ansem of his presence.

When he was brought back in, the king was still behind his desk.

Sora bowed again, still wanting to be polite.

“Welcome back. And sit down again, if you’d like. Now, Tifa tells me there was something you or Royal Wizard Riku had forgotten to tell me?”

Sora had been racking his brain the whole trip through the palace, trying to think of something he could say to justify his return.

“There’s something you should know about Riku, before you really decide you want him as your Royal Wizard,” he said. Before he lost his nerve, he blurted the rest: “He’s in a contract with a fire spirit. Or a fire demon, maybe, I’m not completely sure what she technically is.”

At this, King Ansem put down the paper he’d been looking over. “A contract with a fire spirit? That is fairly serious magic.”

Sora almost sighed with relief. “Yes, it is.”

“I’ve heard of similar contracts before. The Warlock of the Wasteland is said to have once made a similar bargain; it’s part of what makes him such a formidable enemy. A human is able to add the fire spirit’s power to their own in exchange for something the human has but the spirit lacks.”

Sora sat up a little straighter. “Those are the contract terms?”

“In broad strokes. If Riku has indeed entered into a similar arrangement, it would be in his interest to try and get out of it. Or he could risk ending up like the Warlock of the Wasteland. But while this is good to know, I don’t believe it changes his suitability for the job. If anything, the fact he’s under such a contract means he’ll be a better match for the Warlock of the Wasteland.”

“The Warlock of the Wasteland is already looking for him!” said Sora. “He put Riku under a curse. Something about forcing Riku to come to him. And… well, I met the Warlock, too.”

“Then you’re lucky to be alive and unharmed.”

“Maybe not completely.” He felt just a tendril of the curse in his throat, and knew that was as much as he could say. “But he—the Warlock of the Wasteland—said to tell you he’s still angry about being sent to the Wasteland 150 years ago. And he’ll keep taking every hero you send after him.”

“And you’re concerned that means that once Riku is sent after the Warlock, he will be in danger.”

Sora just nodded.

Ansem the Wise folded his hands on the desk. “Do you know who the previous Royal Wizard was?”

“No.”

“That’s because there wasn’t one. It was a role shared between several of my council of advisors. Prominently, Leon and Aerith. Both vanished while attempting to confront the Warlock of the Wasteland.”

Sora had known they’d disappeared, but not how.

“The three council members that remain must focus their energy on other things, much as they wish to be mounting a rescue. We can’t risk leaving our city and people unprotected, which is why I’ve needed to appoint someone new to the position.”

King Ansem stood up. “I both understand and admire loyalty. I understand your concern and your desire to protect your employer. I am at least equally concerned for my advisors, and want them rescued, if they are still alive. If Riku does that, I will reward him greatly, and allow him to relinquish the title.”

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[Sora snarking about "did someone set up a hat shop you don't like" is a nod to the book/movie, in which Sophie runs a hat shop.]

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