In the top room of his tower an old man sits alone. His head is bowed, his eyes closed. When others see him they see a wizard, a source of great wisdom and guidance. He is whom they turn to for advice, whom they ask to teach their students. They have come to him for counsel, and though he is long retired they still view him as the master he once was.
To himself, however, he is only old.
All the strength with which he holds himself gives way once the room is empty. The lights dim and his head sinks into his hands. He wishes the news given were as a gale in his heart, lightning sparking, energizing him to action. Instead it is a dead weight.
It is failure.
Yen Sid has failed before. It was hard then but it is harder now, each successive error a new stone around his neck. Other faces haunt him; Ven, Terra, Aqua, and more besides. Yet somehow this stings worse, and not solely due to the return of the others.
It is one thing for a student to fail after all. It is the nature of learning that such missteps should occur, bringing new lessons ripe for those young and old to pluck. In an imperfect world failure can become blessing, even something to be proud of if one truly learns from it.
But oft with age and mastery failure brings only questions—questions and weariness. Time was short, the need was great—yet could I not have explained better the ways in which he needed to improve? Sharp words can be useful, encouraging at times, but perhaps there was a kinder way to say what needed to be said? Could I not have guided him better?
How poor a teacher am I, to let it come to this?
It is one thing for a student to fail, and another for them to fade.
Sora is gone.
Yen Sid does not weep. He does not feel he has the right to. Instead he forces himself to look outward; sees the size and shape of himself, just a tiny piece set upon a far greater board. The squares reach far beyond his sight, endless oscillating black and white. Once he'd believed he could see beyond the board but now...
I do not have time to mourn, he thinks. If I am the wizard they believe me to be then I must find an answer. I must find a way. There is so much more to learn.
He does not have answers yet, but as he straightens, rights his hat, he decides he will.
It is one thing for a teacher to decide a student has failed. It is another for him to fail them.
So Yen Sid will not.
I will see that Sora is found, he thinks, and then inexplicably finds a smile upon his face. He does not know why, except that for all his flaws and failures Sora is a boy who is easy to believe in. Even in this moment Yen Sid is sure—he will come back.
He rises from his chair, ready to work. I would like to think that neither of us will fail again Sora, but before we test that theory let us grant you a true reprieve—here, in your home, where those who love you await your return.
unFAQ for all fics here. Neocities comment options here and here.
Return to the Bottomless Darkness?