Then his chair creaked as it was pushed back, allowing the Keyblade Master to stand to his full height. Eraqus used the moment to gather his bearings, an odd weight settling across his chest, resting against his heart, before he allowed himself a smile. Stepping around the edge of the kitchen table, his hand then reached over to rest against Ventus' shoulder. A gesture that was accompanied by a reassuring squeeze of fingers.
"I would be proud to accept you as my pupil."
He waited them, for several heart beats, before the Master chose to sink down to one knee; there was a very slight grimace as his body protested the kneeling move. The remaining aches and pains of the night before could not be helped, and it was a small price to pay, all told, for what he had decided to do.
Ventus had already learned to summon the keyblade by the time he'd been deposited on Eraqus' doorstep, a memory lost to a part of his life he could not -- perhaps would never -- truly remember. And although he wore the mark of mastery sigil, there had never been anything truly official beyond the agreement with Xehanort to adopt his peer's student to signify the start of his apprenticeship.
Here, and now, granted Eraqus an unlooked-for second chance to change that.
The kitchen wasn't as appropriately ceremonial as the throne room, but it would have to do.
no subject
Then his chair creaked as it was pushed back, allowing the Keyblade Master to stand to his full height. Eraqus used the moment to gather his bearings, an odd weight settling across his chest, resting against his heart, before he allowed himself a smile. Stepping around the edge of the kitchen table, his hand then reached over to rest against Ventus' shoulder. A gesture that was accompanied by a reassuring squeeze of fingers.
"I would be proud to accept you as my pupil."
He waited them, for several heart beats, before the Master chose to sink down to one knee; there was a very slight grimace as his body protested the kneeling move. The remaining aches and pains of the night before could not be helped, and it was a small price to pay, all told, for what he had decided to do.
Ventus had already learned to summon the keyblade by the time he'd been deposited on Eraqus' doorstep, a memory lost to a part of his life he could not -- perhaps would never -- truly remember. And although he wore the mark of mastery sigil, there had never been anything truly official beyond the agreement with Xehanort to adopt his peer's student to signify the start of his apprenticeship.
Here, and now, granted Eraqus an unlooked-for second chance to change that.
The kitchen wasn't as appropriately ceremonial as the throne room, but it would have to do.