The light of Curaga faded from Aqua's keyblade, a soft emerald glow ebbing out into silence. For a long moment the room was filled with nothing but the sound of Helios's breathing — shallow, uneven, but no longer labored. His body shifted faintly on the bed, the rise and fall of his chest steadier than it had been hours ago.
Beside her, Skuld's shoulders slumped. Her own magic had long since thinned to a mere flicker, and the color drained from her cheeks. She sagged onto the edge of the bed, catching her breath, eyes on Helios's pale face as though willing him to wake.
"That's… all we can do for now," Aqua said, her voice low but firm. Her hands trembled faintly as she rested them against her knees. "Any more and we'll collapse. He's stable. That's what matters."
Skuld nodded mutely. She swallowed against the lump in her throat and brushed a damp lock of hair from her forehead. Her gaze lingered on Helios's chest, on the faint rise and fall, before she forced herself to stand.
"Come," she said softly, her voice hoarse. "I'll take you to your old room. You need to sit, at least."
Aqua didn't hesitate before following. She cast one quick last glance at Helios, then rose and walked with Skuld out of the chamber.
The mansion's halls were quiet, heavy with the weight of recovery. Lamps flickered against the walls, their soft firelight painting long shadows across the polished floors. Skuld led Aqua down the familiar corridor until they reached a room at the far end.
She opened the door, motioning inside. "Here. You used this before. Nothing's changed."
Aqua stepped in slowly. The room smelled faintly of dust, the bed neatly made as though it had been waiting. She sat down on the edge of the mattress, her back straight despite her exhaustion. Her eyes followed Skuld, who hovered awkwardly at the doorway.
"You've grown taller, I guess, for you it's been longer than it was for me," Aqua murmured at last. Her voice wasn't unkind, but it carried weight — observation laced with something sharper. "Looks like you've also changed."
Skuld's chest tightened. She lowered her eyes, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. "I… I'm sorry."
Aqua raised her gaze, a single brow arching. "For what?"
"I should have contacted you sooner. I shouldn't have left you wondering… what happened to me. What I was doing."
The tension in the room thickened. Aqua's fingers curled faintly against the bedsheet, but her tone when she spoke was even, measured. "What did happen, Skuld? After that white-haired girl dragged you away? No, after she kidnapped you?"
Skuld's throat tightened. She could still see the cold gleam in Kurai's eyes the moment she'd stepped through that first corridor. She hesitated — but Aqua's stare brooked no evasion.
She drew in a slow breath. "First… Kurai brought me to Olympus. Straight to Helios. He was… he was barely alive. Hades had tortured him, left him broken and bleeding. I'd never seen someone in that state before. If I hadn't healed him immediately, he would've died there. And even after that, it took me days to mend enough of him so he could even move around again."
Her voice wavered. She remembered sitting at Helios's side, pouring light into him until she collapsed, waking only to resume again. "That's how bad it was. He'd lost almost everything. I couldn't… I couldn't walk away after that."
Her hands clenched together. "So… I followed him. Because if I didn't, I thought I'd never see him again. I couldn't take that chance."
Aqua listened without a word, her expression unreadable.
Skuld pressed on. "We left Olympus together. The next world we reached was Atlantis. Helios—" she exhaled — "Helios got involved with the people there. He wanted to help. He said they needed him, and… I think maybe he needed them, too. So we stayed. We fought for them. We protected their home."
Her gaze softened as the memories flowed, but she forced herself back to the thread. "Eventually, we returned here. Back to Olympus. And… you saw the result yourself. You saw him nearly consumed."
The room was quiet. Only the muffled hum of the mansion's life filtered through the door.
Aqua sat in silence for a long moment, eyes lowered, her hands folded neatly in her lap. At last, she spoke, her voice quiet but edged with steel. "That's a summary. But not the truth. You've glossed over more than you've told me. I can hear it in your voice. I can see it in the way you avoid details."
Skuld flinched. "I—"
"I don't need excuses," Aqua interrupted, her words precise. "What I need is the truth. If you're following Helios and that white-haired girl… if you're living in their shadow… then you need to understand the path they walk isn't just dangerous. It's destructive. You'll be swept into the darkness along with them before you even realize."
Skuld's lips parted, but no words came. She could feel the weight of Aqua's stare pinning her in place, demanding more than she was ready to give.
Finally she whispered, "I know it's dangerous. I know. But… I couldn't leave him. Not after what I saw. Not after what he's been through. After what I've also been through."
Her voice cracked. "If you had seen him — the way I did — you wouldn't have left him either."
Aqua's expression softened just faintly, though her gaze remained steady. She exhaled, long and slow, her shoulders easing by a fraction.
She looked toward the window, where the moonlight spilled through the glass. Her voice, when she spoke, carried a note of weary reflection.
"You remind me of myself. Of when I followed Terra and Ventus. I thought devotion alone could carry us through anything. That my loyalty was enough to save them. But devotion… it can save, yes. Or it can destroy."
Skuld's breath caught. She felt the words settle deep inside, both comfort and warning. She lowered her head, folding her hands against her chest.
"I'll explain everything," she said quietly. "When I'm ready. But please, Aqua… please understand. I couldn't let him go."
The silence lingered. Then Aqua sighed softly, shaking her head. "Rest tonight. We'll talk again once Helios is awake. I need the whole truth. Not fragments. Not excuses."
Her voice gentled at the end, but the weight behind it remained firm.
Skuld nodded. She stayed standing there for a moment longer, then slowly stepped back toward the door.
As she left, Aqua remained seated on the bed, her eyes fixed on the moonlight. The memories of her own past companions weighed heavy on her heart. She whispered, barely audible:
"Devotion saved me once. But it cost me just as much. Be careful, Skuld. Don't make the same mistakes I did."
Skuld paused outside the door, the words echoing in her chest. She pressed her palm to the wooden frame, eyes closing. She wanted to believe her path was different. That following Helios wasn't a mistake. That it was worth the danger.
But Aqua's words lingered like a shadow.
And in the silence of the hall, with Helios's shallow breaths echoing faintly from down the corridor, Skuld wondered which truth the future would prove.