Gone: Marluxia's Reign Okay, folks, this is my first story here on the forums (though not the first one I've written, not by a long shot) and I'm really curious on how this is going to be precieved. I'd like everyone to keep in mind that this is my first attempt at writing from Zexion's perspective, so some critique would be very nice. Anyway, I own no characters in this story. Enjoy! _____ Lexaeus is gone. Marluxia’s casual words echoed and haunted Zexion’s mind. Just they way he’d spoken, as if telling them the Silent Hero had simply gone to Hollow Bastion to pick up a carton of milk.The Keyblader Sora has eliminated number Five on his mission in Agrabah. This is a very inconvenient event for us, but you have my promise as the new Superior that our plans for Kingdom Hearts will go about as intended. Zexion’s stomach clenched at the thought of that egotist Marluxia as Superior. Everyone knew how he’d come into power so quickly and ruthlessly. Xemnas was dead now, just like Lexaeus. But to Nobodies a normal death would be a mercy. They don’t die, but fade into the darkness and become what they truly were: nothing. Taking slow, heavy footsteps through the halls of the castle, the Cloaked Schemer’s mind raced despite his slow pace. Lexaeus had not died by Sora’s hand, that much was certain. Lexaeus was far too intelligent, far too strong to have been taken out by that dim-witted child. That only left one alternative which most of the Organization already suspected: Marluxia. It was no secret that the Graceful Assassin had feared Lexaeus for his sheer size and strength, despite how greatly Marluxia tried to conceal it. It was also well known that the red-haired Nobody disapproved immensely of the manipulative Marluxia being Superior. On the day the meeting had been called, (three days ago, Zexion shook his head. Only three days) they had all arrived to find Marluxia sitting ceremoniously in Xemnas’s chair, gazing down at the other Nobodies with an arrogant air of superiority. Figuring out what was going on within a split second, Lexaeus had looked up from his chair and stared at Marluxia with a gaze hard as marble. “You will never be my Superior, Marluxia.†With that said, he’d vanished into a sphere of darkness. Controlled rage had been clear on Marluxia’s face though he’d struggled to remain clam as Vexen quickly tore into him about what in the worlds was going on. Zexion shook the rest of the meeting from his head, furrowing his brow as he came upon the room he was looking for. He barley touched the large slate doors before they opened slowly and revealed a sculptor’s heaven of a room. Lexaeus’s room was wide with a high ceiling to accommodate his size. Piles of gray, brown and red clay covered a long white working table in the far corner of the room and above it shelves upon shelves of different colored glazes. On a hook to the left of the table hung a large, clay-stained apron that had once been white. A kennel, still hot from a recent firing, stood alone in the corner just waiting to be emptied of it’s contents. Gray-blue eyes scanned the room, taking in the shapes and figures of clay forms created by the gentle giant. With his large size, Lexaeus always had to be gentle with everything he touched but with his sculptures he was especially careful down to the finest detail. The schemer closed his eyes and inhaled deeply; taking in the earthy smell of the clay that permeated the room and had always seemed to cling to his large friend. He could remember many late nights when he’d be up late into the night reading and Lexaeus would come into the lab to try and persuade the short young man to get some sleep. When Zexion refused the conversation would almost always end with him being picked up, cradled like a child, and carried off to his room. Despite his tired, usually slightly slurred objections, he’d always end up drifting off to sleep with that comforting smell of earth in his nose. Ienzo and Aeleus had always been close, Zexion recalled vaguely. The best of friends and that had carried on even after they’d lost their hearts. Faint, choppy memories of eating ice cream in the park, examining a specimen under a microscope, cowering from Dilan’s girlfriend when she got angry (What was her name? Relena, Arlene? He could faintly recall that she was blonde but that was about it). Their Others had been practically inseparable. For a moment Zexion was sure he felt the familiar comforting heaviness of a large hand coming to rest on his petite shoulder. His eyes snapped open and his head jerked to look over his shoulder with a vague, irrational hope that Lexaeus was there behind him. But all he could see were the shadows in dancing in the corner of the room. How ironic it was that Zexion’s mind was playing tricks on him. He narrowed his eyes as he spoke softly to himself, “I think…I should have a little talk with Eleven.†As he briskly walked out of the room, Zexion was hardly aware of the way his chest clenched as he left behind the familiar smell of his friend’s room. He kept his hands balled into fists at his sides, taking long strides despite his short stature. Lexaeus had been his friend and now he was gone. Marluxia would pay. Even Nobodies have a sense of justice. ____ Note: The next chapter should be up sometime today.
