Sunday, 6 February 2011
08:21:00 PM (GMT)
The room was revealed to him. It was empty at the time but he knew he hadn't nearly
enough time to run back to the Grey Room like a pansy, talk to a final time with the
other two, or even join in Vaproskiax's choice that had suddenly become appealing to
him, for prideful reasons this time. But too late meant that you couldn't do anything
anymore. You were stuck in that room. He was stuck in this room.
The crescent harikan became his only sense of motivation, it crooned a new tune, the
vibration shifting its colours suddenly to a warm red - to a ruby - but it only
matched and reminded him of his rage. His rage to this boy - the one who had killed
Dexion and soon could kill his other firends, his only friends, even himself. Voices
echoed in and out of his mind, persuading him further or trying to pull him back to
what he wished could happen.
His hand rased up after the crescent harikan was traded in possession, then lined in
the air at his front. The air solidified from his finger tips and mirrors sprawled
out, creating a wall of defense almost. He slid underneath them, ducking under, then
stood at their front before each hit the ground with a tough hit, making a sound but
not breaking. They shifted and turned a bit and he looked down to the many others -
he viewed more of himself, each mirror beholded a piece of him. First there was
pride. He found the reflections smiling back to him, all their lip piercings
glistening the gentle but vacant appearance of light --- then, catching himself
off-gaurd, the all frowned.
They all shivered with the same fear.
Never once had he viewed such a thing, no, not when it was he. Each one had the same
expression; Dear God, please take mercy on me.
But he turned his head away from each of them, hearing a sound of the creaking door.
Then he viewed the sight of a kid, probably around his age if he was correct, stand
there with what seemed to be a keyblade. At his sides followed a strange dog and a
"Well," chimed Xilatz, losing any fear he had, "didn't realize the loony-bin was
visiting. Surely this is a mistake, this isn't New York, my friends." The free hand
slid into his pocket. Why prepare mirrors? This kid looked as harmless as a
"Are you the next one!?" Asked this boy out seriously.
Xilatz tilted his head slightly, "Who are you?"
"Sora." It was plain and simple, but this kid gave a determined look, "Are you the
Sora? "Surely you're not the fellow killing my friends."
This Sora gave a glare.
The Romanian let out a laugh, and he did the stupidest of all things. Every mirror
shattered, the pieces soon flinging to a pile together then swiftly edging towards
him before they crawled back to the depths of his hariken - There's no point.
Leave it to Dex-Dulce to get killed by this guy, but there's no way I will. "Hm?
I guess so, but you won't get passed me. The line ends here," He smiled, the
piercings lightly shining once more with a subtle twinkle that followed his smirk and
an up-put of his hariken. "Sorry, Sora, your breath, I'm afraid, also dies
here." The smile widened and he lunged forward.
Blocks were made. The sounds of the the metal hitting eachother resounded through
out the rooms, grunts from each of them with movements swift. Both Goofy and Donald
stayed at the back, even if they attempted forward, it would not be the best.
Xilatz's crescent hariken spun and lunged at the other's body as the keyblade tried
to make depths in and break all contact. With ease, to blockade off moves, the
hariken's colour and properties shape-shifted, turning it to the colour of coal that
brightened with a glossy look; Apache tear. Everything looked so good fromt his
pioint on. Sora's movements almost stiffened, Xilatz couldn't help but grin like a
madman, and laugh aloud just as worse as the apache tear hariken made the attempts to
cut the other. "I'm sure you remember that death!" Xilatz huffed aloud, skidding back
on his heel after a loud 'CLANK' was made as the two minerals slammed unforgivingly
into each other, causing them both to jolt back. "Death of a friend! Before me!"
"That one guy?" Laughed Sora aloud, "Hardly see the similarities!"
"And someone as stupid as you could never! And for this! I WILL KILL YOU."
The colours faltered and transformed once more. It turned into a faint colour of red
It was a final and perfect blow - one crescent end aiming perfectly to the other's
neck, going to decapitate him.
A breath became hinted. There was a stinge of pain within his chest. His fingers
tensed and became blooddrawn, cutting into the hariken that he held. Movements
weren't going his direction. Nothing listened, and everything grew limp. There was a
faint look and his face grew paler than before - Sora looked just as surprised but
took a step back. Xilatz's green eyes fell and he witnessed a strange thing
protruding from his chest, covered in blood. The hariken escaped from his grasps,
unable to hold onto it any longer, then, as it hit the ground, it vanished as ashed.
The strange weapon slipped harshly out from him and it was painful. He couldn't keep
himself up. His feet wanted to be firm, but his entire body fell forward. A huff
didn't even escape from him. Fingers would not move at all for him, nothing even
twitched. His eyes were half-lidded and he had the conscious to look parallel to the
ground. The soft grey tint of the floor soon began to turn red. Like in his dreams,
he saw red. But he felt pain. Soon it became numb, however and everything began to
get fuzzy. blood soon felt as a difter up his throat and dribbled from the corner of
his lip, even the cheek on the ground getting stained with it. Coldness arrived to
his arms and his fingers. soon it drapped on his entire body.
"That one was feisty."
The familiar voice, or so the one he could remember, laughed as Sora. "Had me
worried there, thanks, Riku! Might need to clean your Way to Dawn though, looks
pretty messy now."
The pupils soon became nothing. Everything was dark, but his mind continued. No more
voices would be made over the silence.
This is the end.
I wake up after what seems to be a million years. There had not been such thing as a
light in my dream then. So, I was utmost surprised to see one at the end of a dark
corridor. I turn around and see nothing but that darkness, but when my head comes
back it faces the light. I feel so confused. But then I remembered what happened. I
was filled with anger.
The light was my death.
Maybe if I ran to the darkness, I could come back, and I could avenge - I promised
But my first step was halted. I felt a hand tightly grab my upper arm, a familiar
hand. The voice spoke to me in a language I first did not know, one that I thought I
could never learn, but it made sense.
Every word glided over my head, I can't recall what it was a few seconds ago. But I
turn without thinking - it must've been important. I couldn't see at first who it
was, what their name was and what their voice meant to me at first, but soon I found
my arms wrapping around that stranger and my face burying into his chest. Warm tears
felt like they were coming down from my eyes and upon my cheeks, but I can't recall
what tears are and what they felt like. The chest vibrated. It was a chuckle, almost
awkward. I felt a hand touch the top of my head and ruffle my hair. The voice mused a
name and told that name to calm down, but who is Xilatz? This voice is new. "I don't
It seemed humorous. The stranger called it strange himself, but soon hugged me back.
I feel happier. I realize then that I don't cry. But I was crying. I heard that name
again, but it wasn't Xilatz and it wasn't from him. I felt my lips part, and it mused
its own foreign name and soon apologies flew out like rapid fire. I can't remember
why. I felt words slip from my throat that begged him to forgive me, but I can't
remember why or for what. I don't know what I'm talking about. But he assures me with
a gentler touch that he'd never be upset. I felt even happier, but I don't remember
how these words could mean so much.
But then I realized something - I'm not Alitz, I'm Xilatz. I'm not the
son of Fane nor Doina. I don't play the harpsichord, and I never liked
Translyvania. I don't know that boy, and he doesn't know me.
I look up to see the smile of a warm ginger, hair in a perfect shape of a mess but
appealing no matter what - because he meant something to me.
I am Xilatz. I may not be anymore, but I was a part of the
Organization 13. And my only family are my friends. My arms embrace one, and his name
is Dexion. And I missed him. Soon these arms will embrace Xaveria, because I
And, selfishly, I wanted Frixie and Xierox in the same spot.
Because I always miss them.
They're the only friends I have in the end. I'll be damned to hell without them,
even in heaven. Maybe I can't admit it here, then, or there aloud to anyone. But I
love them all just like that. Xilatz alone is nothing - he's a nobody, I wouldn't
even want him.
But with them, he feels like a somebody. He didn't need to be Alitz for this to be
Everytime Xilatz sees these friends, his heart will skip a beat even if he has none,
As far as I'm concerned, Alitz is the nobody.
But me? With them I can always be a somebody.
"Dex-dulce, I missed you."
"Oh, so you remember?"
Because, their love seems to be always unconditional.
Dying isn't so bad anyways.
///THIS TOOK TOO LONG.
Last edited: 7 February 2011