Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters that appear or are mentioned in it. Bril, however, is my creation, but is in no way based off of anyone specifically.
Warning: This story contains spoilers for all Kingdom Hearts games, right from the start. If you haven't finished, wait to read this. It'll make more sense that way, I promise.
Softness against his skin teased him out of heavy sleep. A gentle light against his face encouraged him to open his eyes and find its source.
As he did so, movement captured his attention, and a blond, bearded man came into view. "So, you've awoken," he said with a smile. "That's very good; I was worried."
It was almost laughable – this noble-looking man had been worried about him?. But he had no chance to think about the mix of emotions that the words triggered before the older man continued, "When I found you, I wasn't sure you would pull through. It seems you had taken quite a beating of some sort, and yet here you are."
Darkness/pain/fear/loss. He shivered under the onslaught, knowing there had been good reason to doubt his survival. A warm hand squeezed his hand, chasing away the shadows. Of course his rescuer had noticed, he was obviously wise and kind and-
"Can you tell me your name?"
He looked up into those yellow eyes, lips parted, eager to say, of course, I can tell you anything, especially my name, it's mine isn't it? After a moment of silence, he swallowed and confessed softly, "I-I don't remember."
There was another pause, and then his hand was given another squeeze. "That's just fine," the man assured him. "You'll remember, eventually. For now, it's just another x, a blank space to be filled in."
He wanted to apologize - I'm sorry, I'll try harder, I'll remember, whatever you ask, anything to erase that look of disappointment – but the words froze on his tongue when the other introduced himself as Ansem, and explained that they were in a place called Radiant Garden.
It wasn't very long before they both realized that his amnesia was not a fleeting thing, and none of Ansem's careful treatments were lifting it. He informed Ansem that he had chosen a new name, to last until his memory returned to him. At his choice, and reasoning behind it, Ansem chuckled and commented that it was unusual, but appropriate for him.
Another x. Xehanort.
Now it was nearly a month later, and the young teen found himself knocking on a partly open door. "Master Ansem?" he called softly, spotting the man bent over a book on his desk.
"Come on in, Xehanort." He marked his place and shut the book with one hand and waved Xehanort further into the study with the other hand.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything important, sir," he said as he moved in front of the desk. Almost of their own violation, his eyes roved over the bookshelves lining the round room; the titles of the ones he could read from this position looked far more interesting than the ones he had been given during his recovery. A deep chuckle brought his attention back to the room's occupant, and Xehanort flushed slightly when he realized Ansem had been watching him stare at the texts.
"My private collection," the scholar explained with a smile. "And no, you aren't interrupting. I did tell you to come see me if you needed something, did I not? What is it that brought you all the way down here?"
"I...I'm bored, sir." Now that he was standing in this room, with the one who ruled Radiant Garden, it sounded rather foolish.
"Bored," Ansem repeated, leaning back in his chair and looking thoughtful. "I have been thinking about taking an apprentice or two...That certainly is an idea, though I understand if you would rather not be stuck overseeing experiments all day."
"I would be honored to be your apprentice, sir!" Xehanort quickly said, with a bow, before Ansem could change his mind. He meant it, too, with all his heart. To be given the opportunity to follow in the footsteps of the man who had saved his life was the chance of a lifetime, and Xehanort would take it with both hands.
Ansem favored him with a warm smile. "Perhaps your enthusiasm will bring new life to some of my older projects," he said. "I will warn you, it is hard work, but I am sure that you are up to the challenge." Rising, he gestured for Xehanort to follow him out into the main workspace.
"I will do my best to live up to your expectations, Master Ansem." Xehanort bowed again, unable to hide the broad smile on his face.
The days passed faster with something to occupy his time, and Ansem seemed pleased with how quickly Xehanort picked up concepts and techniques. It wasn't long before he began to let Xehanort tend experiments on his own, checking on them only occasionally, though on most things they continued to work together.
"Hello? Anyone home?"
"Perhaps they're all hiding in the castle dungeons."
Xehanort exchanged an amused glance with Ansem, the pair safely hidden from view of the speakers by several tiers of leafy plants. Ansem nodded at the plants in front of them, a clear sign for Xehanort to continue working, while he went to see to their visitors. He had just picked up his notes again when one of the men appeared around the plants. He was solidly built, with black hair placed in neat braids and tied at the back. After a few moments of watching Xehanort take notes, he asked, "You're that kid His Grace found a couple years back, aren't you?"
"Yes, but I'm not a kid," he answered. "I'm Xehanort. I don't believe I've met you before."
"Dilan." The man stuck out a hand, which Xehanort shook briefly. "My buddy Braig and I run the Dome. His new paintball guns keep jamming, so we figured we'd come see if Ansem's as wise as they say he is and can maybe fix them."
"He is. And please don't touch that." Dilan snatched his hand away from the leaves he had been idly flicking. "We've been attempting to determine the type of soil and fertilizer combination that will allow produce to provide maximum harvest for the town, and I believe Master Ansem would be very put out to have to start over again."
"My apologies," Dilan said. "I know I'd hate it if someone came and messed up our stuff while we were working on it. Although," he sent a sideways glance at Xehanort. "We don't usually use fancy speech to scare people off. Maybe we should try it."
"Maybe you should. Didn't seem to work on you, though."
The pair kept straight faces for several seconds. Then Xehanort's lips twitched. Soon both of them were quietly snickering, trying not to attract the attention of the other two men. "So, do you enjoy paintballing?" Xehanort asked, once he felt under control.
"Nah, that's Braig's thing. I'm more of a-"
"Xehanort, would you come here please?" Ansem called out.
Dilan followed Xehanort to the large table in the center of the room, where Ansem waited with another man, presumably Braig. He was more slender than Dilan and lacked his braids. Instead, he kept his hair pulled into a short tail at the nape of his neck, drawing attention to the jagged scar on his face. Touches of gray in the black hair indicated that he was much older than Xehanort or Dilan. He might even be older than Ansem, which surprised Xehanort. He had expected somebody who ran a fast-action place like the Dome would be younger. On the table in front of them sat a half-assembled paintball gun.
Ansem looked up at Xehanort with a grin. "Look at this," he said, tapping the gun. "Extremely lightweight, even when it's all put together, yet Braig says that he and Dilan have jumped up and down on one of them and not dented it at all. It's a highly impressive achievement, creating a material like that."
"What was the problem with it, then?" Dilan asked.
Braig snorted and rolled his eyes. "The disks in the quick feed were way too small, they couldn't hang onto the balls tight enough."
"So they'd slip, run into each other, and make it jam," Dilan finished with a nod.
"Makes me feel like a right fool, missing something simple like that."
"But it is quite impressive, the way you've improved them. This design of this is far superior to the ones in use when I was a boy," Ansem said.
Braig looked slightly smug. "Yeah, it's like the last guy never experimented with them or anything. I like messing with them, and Dilan's really good with the propellants and stuff."
"There's always more to learn, though," his companion added.
Ansem nodded. "Yes, there is always more to learn. In fact, the two of you are more than welcome to join Xehanort here as my apprentices. Such sharp minds as yours should not go to waste."
Dismayed, Xehanort stared at his teacher. Was he not good enough, that Ansem wanted to replace him with these other two? I've done everything you've asked me...
Catching the young man's look, Ansem smiled and gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Don't worry, I'm sure the three of you will get along just fine, Xehanort. Besides, the extra companionship will be good for you."
Xehanort bowed his head, only marginally calmed. "Yes, Master Ansem."
Fears of replacement were more easily put to rest by observing the newcomers. Xehanort's time under Ansem's undivided teaching had given him a distinct advantage, putting him miles ahead of them, though they were quickly working to catch up. Relaxing towards them, Xehanort was not surprised to learn that Ansem had been right – it was nice to have more people to talk to, especially ones who understood what he was talking about. Remembering this, Xehanort made no further protests as autumn moved to winter and the three apprentices became four, and then five. Ansem recruited Even on the spot after seeing his work in the research department of Radian Garden's small hospital. He neatly balanced out Braig and Dilan, who were more interested in the immediate and obvious results of research. Elaeus joined the group when he overheard Even, Xehanort, and Braig arguing about synthesis materials. The large man had stepped in and quietly settled the argument, and had been about to walk away when the trio pounced on him and dragged him to their master. Ansem, Xehanort felt, had been silently laughing behind his blue ice cream bar at the explanation of his apprentices, but had extended the offer of joining them to Elaeus.
Ienzo, though, was Xehanort's own contribution. He had been taking a walk, hoping to clear his head in the cold air, when shouts and jeers caught his attention. Following them, he found a gathering of schoolboys, perhaps a few years younger than himself, in a ring around two of their classmates. The large one was obviously trying to pick a fight, but the other teen was having none of it. All of the taunts and jokes aimed at him were turned back, with additional jibes. The boy's quick wit was confusing his opponent, who responded by becoming even more angry.
It was about to get out of hand when Xehanort stepped out of the shadows. They may not have known his face, but the long white coat he had on was known to be worn only by Ansem and his apprentices. Most of them scattered, leaving Xehanort alone with Ienzo.
The boy scowled at him through a short curtain of hair. "Bril and his gang started it," he quickly pointed out.
"I gathered as much. How old are you?"
"Fourteen."
"Name?"
"Ienzo. What do you care?"
"I noticed you used many terms that probably aren't common among fourteen year olds. Are you interested in science, by any chance?"
"Boy, you're just full of questions today, aren't you?" Ienzo crossed his arms and glared up at Xehanort.
"I'm always full of questions, so I hope you'll indulge me with one more." Xehanort smiled and held out his hand. "Would you like to become one of Ansem the Wise's apprentices?"