just a boy from a dead world

Infinitely preferable. “History it is.” He shifts once more, settling in against Kuja as he tries to decide what story to tell him now. He pulls a couple gems from his pocket with one hand, rolling them in his palm, feeling the eidolons they’re attached to stir and smiles quietly to himself. This was his heritage, who he was, even this far away from home.

“I haven’t told you about our move to Madain Sari yet, have I? All those many years ago lost to time and history?” He barely gives time for a reply before launching into the tale, about the mother continent and their decision to leave it behind, about how Gaia’s heartbeat was fading and they needed to find it again. About how they traveled far and wide in their search, finally founding Madain Sari where the heartbeat was strongest.

And there they had stayed. Until they were forced away from their homes.

“Of course, part of that has to be more myth than fact, given how long ago it was,” Roxas concludes, still mentally back home as he gazes into the fire remembering how the city was. “But it’s true mostly, I think. We’re too proud a people to change the reasons for leaving too drastically.”

“If you’re bored I can always tell you more stories of Madain Sari.” History was one thing that seemed to always capture Kuja’s attention after all. And there was plenty more about his homeland to share should he want to listen.

“Or we could get up and you could teach me how to fight more.” Not that he wanted to get back up, a point made clear as he gets comfortable under Kuja’s arm and tucks himself against his bony side.