You Don't Know, Do You? (Eraqus/Xehanort)

Sure enough, he was there, the friend who, agendas aside, Xehanort had come to realize he missed dearly. It was such a surreal sort of relief to see that he, too, had returned.

...Which was why it stung so much to be fixed by his glare, and to recognize the fury in those eyes. Xehanort was tempted to think it was his paranoid imagination until his 'friend' spoke up with words that were just as harsh as that look. He had hoped they could reunite with a smile, but that hope was quickly being proven as delusion, and then replaced with confusion. Then, a sinking pit of of self-doubt. In a matter of seconds, the old Master felt his understanding of recent events had been completely dash.

"Eraqus, don't act like you never... Like you don't remember when..." Even Xehanort, usually composed to the end, found it hard to respond to this hostility. It was always hard, trying to talk to someone with a face like that. It was a skill he once perfected, but there were gaps in Xehanort's confidence now- Something he hadn't noticed until he was confronted with this realization that, no, he hadn't been forgiven. It was a lie, a trick of the light, and one that had him struggling to comprehend what levels he was offended on. A moment of quiet passed, and he felt his resolve return, the cold, bitter solidarity that he'd expected to abandon here rushing back into him.

He blinked, still not quite believing it. "You really don't know, do you?" he pondered, "What you said to me? How it ended?" In truth, Xehanort had already decided that he didn't need that question to be answered. His hand was already set aside, and his weapon had already been pulled from the void, the blue-silver Keyblade with the clock face head and the gears in its hilt. He knew this side of Eraqus, though he'd only seen it twice. To talk him down was to waste everyone's time. "Will you send me off again, then, or have you forgotten how to do that too..?"

Xehanort could only feel himself grow ever more bitter as the scolding came. It didn't end for quite some time, and by the end he was so taken by his swelling anger that he almost missed that obvious tell. Back then, Xehanort did more than backstabbing. On the contrary, he had paid very close attention to the battle he stepped in on, any many of those details stuck with him. That's how he knew to step half a pace back and swing his weapon downward, meeting the incoming magic with that of the Keyblade. The telltale ting of a parried strike was the only warning that he was unharmed before he came dashing through the glare at his foe.

"You're still too stiff, Eraqus!" He landed just in front of the master, thrusting the Keyblade forward in a swift lunge. He was old, yes, but this fury had kept him alive for decades and would easily invigorate him now. "Freeze!" he called and followed through with his opposite hand, striking with a palm that then exploded into a barrage of ice lances, firing out at point-blank range in a guard-piercing torrent of brutal cold missiles.

Those first two strikes were as predictable as anything that old Master ever did. Leading his parries into sidesteps brought the charging warrior past him without fail the first two times, but that was before the flames had gotten close. "Tch." Xehanort only dignified Eraqus' assault with one quiet note of frustration before squandering it completely with another spell, this one being brought up with a hand as a tall slab of concrete erupted from the sidewalk between Xehanort and the two dangers he had taken care to position nearby each other, sectioning them both off from himself in one precise move. The first two parries were more bait than a meaningful attempt at defense.

"Really, I'd go so far as to call your vigilance impressive," he clarified, raising his voice to be heard through the brick. "Astounding, even- I still haven't met a man so quick to make his mistakes, but your haste makes you predictable. That's the difference, you see: I learned to think." Though he acted superior, and certainly had quite the dense shield to stand behind, he didn't think for a moment that the wall would last. Though Eraqus was outmatched, it would be blasphemy to think him a pushover. He'd likely break, flank or scale that wall in no time at all. "I doubt even a barricade like this would hold you for long," Xehanort mused aloud.

Xehanort couldn't have been further from right, as that wall was soon scattered into pieces, only to be thrown in a collage of heated stones. Truly, the perfect counter to a defense like that, but like with everything else Eraqus, it was too perfect. It was the first, most forceful response. It was direct. It was predictable- A theme, really. Xehanort was already prepared for it, preparing a spell that he'd grown quite fond of.

That was why, when Eraqus lobbed those stones, they didn't go far. They were quickly caught up in a freshly-conjured gravity well, a white ball of energy that sucked in anything unfortunate enough to drift close, including the concrete projectiles and the person who had thrown it. Eraqus' sprint had gotten him closer than expected, though, and Xehanort was reminded of what consequences his own haste would bring when the brunt of a Keyblade cracked against his neck, then his shoulder from the opposite side before the spell had enough effect to force the two apart. Free of that assault, Xehanort brought is fee arm across his chest to hold tight his developing bruises. He recognized the technique. It was weak, but chaotic, but its wielder was plenty strong enough to make even such an unfocused strike into something wound-worthy.

He recoiled back and rolled his battered shoulder, finding it could still move well enough. Still, he wouldn't give that injury any chance to hold him back, instead raising his Keyblade and swiping it to conjur a green light. The effect, well, that wasn't something Eraqus would know. The technique was too new for someone like him to know. Even if he did understand that something had happened, he'd first have to deal with the charging light ball that was sucking him in.