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Tricksters

Tricksters, one and all, there seemed to be an unbreakable chain of deception slowly wrapping through the worlds, trapping one person after the other in their own words and actions. 

Whether the chain wrapped inward or outward, Sora did not know. It was only because of something Ansem had muttered that he'd even thought of everything being bound together. 

Yet events that were supposed to destroy their trust in one another only proved to create it. After being used for so long, slowly each one of them realized the truth and attempted to atone for their actions. 

They had all been lied to, tricked from the beginning by appeals made to the very cores of their being. Each had fallen, and in turn been spat out as garbage. 

But in the end there was acceptance. Each member of the growing group could empathize and was willing to place faith in those still dealing with how fragile the human mind and hearts could be. It was easy to manipulate any who showed weakness or needed something so deep down inside that they wore it as an aura. 

Sora didn't know the name of the town that they were in. He didn't care. He had Riku's warm body beside his for the first time in so long that counting the days and years was a lost cause. 

Amends were never the easiest things to craft, as they all knew, yet Riku had shown no contempt to any of the traveling group. The look in his eyes echoed with the same empty sadness of a man no longer innocent to the cruelty of the worlds. 

It had been Ansem who found the silver-haired youth, battered and hungry near the outskirts of the vile and dirty town. Riku had not bothered to question, not when he saw Sora. He had his own failure resting on his shoulders; he did not need the failure of others to add to the burden. 

There were eight of them now, each strong in their own respects. Each of the eight had been lured by false promises and empty words, used and then thrown away by the tricksters once the day was done. 

Sora wondered if what had been started could ever truly be finished. It seemed to go on, a chain first forged long before his existence and bound to continue wrapping its failures amongst its links until long after they all ceased to exist. 

It was enough to trap those who would be gods and those who wanted little more than to wipe the slate clean. 

If there was a weak link that would bring the entire thing to end, they would find it. Or they would do what many others had already done - die trying.