There are many worlds,

but they share the same sky—

one sky, one destiny.

CHAPTER I

Once upon a time, during the middle-distant time when legend and history starts to blur into one, there was a tropical paradise amidst a sparkling ocean, at the point where the sky met the sea. The people who lived upon it, all of whom knew just how fortunate they were to live in that part of the world, had built a small but thriving community that emphasized the natural beauty of the island, while still enjoying many of the comforts of civilization. It was a small, warm, friendly place, and would likely remain to be as long as the earth rolled.

But the island of Valmorgen, one of a dozen in the archipelago off the western coast of Ardania that extends far into the Sundering Seas does not concern us all that much, although if you have heard only the barest fraction of what I have heard about that land, and I would be the first to admit that I have only heard the merest taste of all that there is to hear about that extraordinary place, you would already be prepared for any sort of remarkable tale. For that was the way of things, tales and adventures are always swept in with the waves all over those islands, and once they begin nobody can guess where they might be swept up in, or what they might become part of.

The story that we will concern ourselves with is already media res, well in progress, and concerns a young man who, through overcoming great trials and adversity, at last achieved his hearts desire, where it led him, and what became of him afterwards. And while that is not, as stories go, entirely unique or original, such concepts are over-rated anyway and there was much about this young man and what happened to him that was unusual, even if he himself never learned the whole extent of what exactly occurred. Indeed, I believe this manuscript here is the first to entirely catalogue the events in full, for none have ever had the perspective I now give it. The story we need concern ourselves with is an ancient one, for stories are not necessarily linear, and events long distant find their way back to haunt us with alarming regularity. It concerns a wider conflict then the wishes of any single individual, already simplifying itself as the final confrontation took on wider and deeper complications than any yet understood.

And all of this centres around this one boy, Sora, his two closest friends. He was not an overly-complicated individual, in action or in thought. For all of his early years, he had wanted nothing more than the friendship of those closest to him, and the means to explore new horizons, to see the sights and dreams he imagined were beyond the little world he lived in. Which, in a round-about way, is more or less what did happen to him. But there were complications along the way, as there so often are, and the story he found himself a part of was nothing like he could ever have imagined.

His story had begun where we now find him, almost two years before this point. And over its course, it had indeed taken him to places past imagination, beyond the edge of the multiverse to worlds too terrible and wonderful to contemplate, all for the sake of those closest to him. And at last it had taken him home, though only for a while, because even then his journey was far from done. But I confuse matters, for that is the travails of a boy, which has come to an end, and what follows is the story of a man.

Where we begin, to the two boys were looking out over the great, shining sea from their perch, a tropical tree bent just in the right way for a person to rest on its trunk, beneath the branches where fruits shaped like stars dangled from the tree's leafy heights. Sora, who we have already been introduced to (though not in person), sat on the bent trunk, his dangling legs swinging in the air, while his friend (Riku) stood beside him, leaning his weight against the tree. The two had been friends and companions longer then either could remember, and their respective ordeals had strengthened their bond, to the point that they were closer than many blood kin. The two shared everything, even dreams. Legends have been written about less than the ties that bound the two of them, and though they had been tested, it had only strengthened their friendship. Once, it had been their fondest desire to escape this tiny place, and visit the rest of the world. Now, for the moment at least, there was nowhere they would rather be then here at home. Their time here wouldn't last, rest never did, and it was a matter of time before they were drawn back into the rest of the multiverse, but for now there was peace.

The two were as different as night and day. Sora was young, just on the cusp of becoming a young man, a vagrant gleam in his clear, cerulean blue eyes, his nut-brown hair a touch too long, that has arranged itself into a mess of spikes that sneered disdainfully at any attempts to tame them, and swept back from a clear brow. He had an easy and honest smile, at once open and artless, that illuminated his face from within, and had a wiry strength his build that was easy to overlook. One couldn't help but note a strange, indefinable nobility in his bearing tempered with an unconscious grace that seemed out of place on a boy so young. He was wearing loose bright and colourful clothing of a distinctive fabric and cut, mostly black, all held tight in place by a series of belts and clips so that it didn't snap or flap when he moved. It had been a gift, and it never sagged, stretched or suffered any damage whatsoever, not so much as a stain. A silver crown pendant hangs from a chain around his neck, that he had been given when he was very young, in circumstances that were a blur, though seemed important whenever he thought about them.

They were strange shoulders for so many burdens to lie upon, for so many fates to depend, to bear so much hope, but to his credit be bore the hopes and dreams easily and well. He was too young to work, and owned nothing save what he had been given, but appearances that so often deceive and mislead here reflect a truth so simple most never grasp it. Sora was everything he appeared to be, gentle, open and honest, even pure. His dreams were untroubled, his conscience unburdened, and his nature generous and forgiving. He was unfailingly loyal, quick to offer aid, and inspired these qualities in others. Those who do not posses these traits in any abundance are quick to deride them, and often foolish enough overlook them. But in Sora's gentle soul and better nature was a strength that would think nothing of uprooting mountains or fording oceans when called on to do it.

Riku, who we are just meeting, was a little more heavy-set then Sora, a little taller and a little less comfortable with his body, as much due to being older and larger as anything. He had a shoulder length, square-cut mane of hair that, through a quirk of genetics, was naturally a steely lilac-silver and stuck out just about everywhere, and electric green eyes that were almost neon in colour. He was well built for a seventeen-year-old, his shoulders broad, and his body was lean with plenty of definition on his upper arms. He wore a black sleeveless shirt and pale white and yellow jacket, positively practical when compared to Sora's eclectic choice of clothes, though as in the case of Sora, appearances could be deceiving.

Riku never seemed entirely at ease. He was always on the balls of his feet, never on his heels, and every turn ended in alignment and balance. His upper body was loose and nimble, his centre of balance always low, his movements deft and controlled. Either he was at rest, in which case he was still, or he was in motion, where he was smooth and balanced and coiled. He was at once more forceful and more withdrawn then his friend, more demonstrative and more subdued, more there and less alive. He had an air of slightly brooding melancholy and sadness, though now he was at peace. His burdens were different, but by no means less than those of his friend, as were his ways of dealing with them. His smile was more cautious and reserved, his manner more subdued and introspective. There was darkness in this one, as there was darkness in everyone, but he had been confronted with his dark side, seen it for what it was, and the experience had changed him. He wouldn't fight his darker nature, but he wouldn't let it have any power over him either.

The two had sat there for the better of half an hour, watching as the blazing orange sun set slowly, painting the sky in a glorious array of warm colours, which in turn bathed the ocean in a spectacular glow. At their backs was a small plateau rising from the water, just a little back from the shore of a small island that was covered in structures their parents had built for them, sheds and walkways, even a treehouse, and caves that had been carved over time by the ocean, connected to a cliffside ledge of said island by a wide wooden bridge. The Seashore stretched along the island, a yellow sandy beach broken only by exotic trees and shrubbery. As I'm sure you can imagine, for a child of the right age this was very close to paradise if not actually heaven, at least if said child had anything like an imagination. The place was as familiar as their own homes, for the process of growing up had taken place here as much as anywhere else.

The two of them were enjoying the comfortable, companionable silence, that only the best of friends can be comfortable with, when at once, as much to his own surprise as Riku's, One moment he was watching the sky, the next minute he was on his feet, as though propelled. He couldn't have explained have the strange feeling welling inside him had he wanted to, yet somehow felt swept up by it. The feeling didn't settle on any single one thought or emotion, but bounced over everything like a stone skimming across a lake, all but forcing him to his feet, and down to the water's edge, where he stared up at the horizon again. He'd had some manner of premonition, some insight or intuition that he couldn't articulate, even to himself. But he felt as though he was waiting for something to happen,

Riku slid to his feet and stepped after his friend. He followed Sora's gaze out to the horizon, all the way over the sparkling ocean to the fiery sunset that had bathed the entire island in an orange glow and dyed the ocean red. He'd been here before, staring out at the wide blue yonder, dreaming of what lay beyond. For as long as he could remember he'd come here to imagine. He had an idea now, though it was a taste that had only whetted his appetite. There were more stars in the sky then anyone could count, and every single one a world.

"So what are you thinking about?" he asked the younger boy when Sora showed no signs of enlightening him unprompted. The two were comfortable with each other, but not quite as demonstrative and open as they'd been when they were younger, a lifetime ago.

"Absent friends," Sora replied, and then he grinned, a little self-conciously. "I've got so many of them, scattered across the stars, and in every one I left a part of myself in their heart, just as they did in mine. And now I can't help wondering what they are thinking about, looking up at different stars. I know I'll see them again, but..." he shook his head, but he was still grinning. "Heh. Look at that. I'm not even sixteen yet and I'm already telling war stories."

Riku raised his eyebrows. "Well if that's the way it is, I'm betting I have stories that could top anything you can tell, if I wanted to," he replied. "You don't know what I got up to while you were sleeping."

Sora chuckled. "Not on your best day. So what were you thinking about?"

Riku laughed as well. "I was wondering how we were supposed to get to other worlds on a raft," he said at last, with total honesty. "We weren't trying to cross the sea, we were never interested in the next island, or anything on the maps at school. It was always passing the horizon to somewhere entirely new, where nobody else had ever seen. We wanted to discover something new." He shook his head. "We had no idea at all what we were doing."

Sora shrugged. "We were kids," he replied, as though that explained everything. The battles that had calloused his hands and toned his muscles hadn't hardened his soft heart. "But the raft was just to get us started, only begin the journey. We would have traded up sooner or later."

"Think so?"

"Well, we'll never know now. Hey, what happened to that raft?"

"Huh? Oh we... why?" Riku stuttered, glancing about the island and shrugging. He honestly had no idea, he was thinking about bigger things that night.

"I put some hard work into that raft, that's why," Sora replied. "You might have drawn up the plans, but Kairi and me built it, and I'd hate to think something had happened to it after all that hard work."

"As I remember, your job was to run and fetch things," came a new voice, and they both turned to see Kairi making her way up the spot.

Kairi was Sora's age, a slim, softly curved girl with short, glossy red hair of dark satin, that framed a charming face that showed signs of already being well on its way to becoming a full, adult beauty. Her eyes were her finest feature, big and wide, as deep and green as the sea, with an irresistible mischievous sparkle in them. She wore a strapless, pink sheath dress, with three zippers running down the front. The fastener was zipped down a fifth of the way, to make space for her burgeoning bust line; though her modesty was preserved by the white tank top she wore underneath. She giggled, tucking a loose tuft of her short crimson hair behind her ear, and then stared straight at the two of them, still grinning as though she knew that one of them had done something wrong.

"Right. Quartermaster," Sora replied, having spent enough time around boats (and even, at one memorable point, sailed under a self-confessed pirate on the fastest ship in the Caribbean) to have a pretty good idea of what the ranks and stations were, if not how to actually do the jobs.

Kairi was in many ways the catalyst of their adventures, and had drawn them both into their own personal journeys across the stars. First when she had lost her heart, then when she had been kidnapped, she had been the force that drove them on and inspired them to greater heights. Kairi was a Princess of Heart, one of the maidens with hearts completely devoid of any darkness.

The term here, darkness, is one everyone is familiar and experienced with, however it is easy to misinterpret. The darkness is not the dark, and the two should not be confused. The dark is what happens when you switch off a light bulb, not the opposite of light but the absence of light (and in many ways more terrible then either extreme). Darkness – true darkness – is the antithesis of light, the true opposite. The two cannot exist without each other, indeed they define each other, and too much of either can destroy an individual. But the princesses were a naturally occurring anomaly; the exceptions that proved the rule, as the only begins who existed whose hearts are born naturally free of darkness.

Kairi had grown up on Destiny Islands, though she came from another world entirely, and had been close friends with the two almost since arriving. What she meant to both of them was hard to articulate exactly, but both of them adored her.

The three of them had been home for a few days by this point, and were yet to really adjust to life as usual. They probably never would, try as they might. They'd changed too much, and now the world was going to have to adapt to them, rather than the other way around. The three of them were having to readjust to what they had once taken for granted, having to try and fit themselves back into old routines that no longer entirely fitted, which was a lot harder than anticipated. If they hadn't had each other to share the experience with, it's likely that the process would have been beyond them.

Sora had it easy, his mother didn't so much as flinch at his absence, almost as though she had expected it, or something like it, though she'd never heard of a Keyblade or Heartless. She had simply pulled him close the day she opened the door to find him standing there, sobbing with relief as she clutched him, then sat him down at the table. She hadn't wanted an explanation, an accounting or anything else, she had just been glad to see him again, and that's all she wanted. It was a fatalistic acceptance perhaps, one that sensed she'd lose him again soon, and he sensed that he was seeing only a fraction of the story behind it all, but something kept him from asking for an explanation, just as she'd been happy not to ask for his story. Susan was a practical woman, and she realized that some things were beyond her control and ability to influence. Hoping for what could never be did nobody any good, so that was that.

And largely, that was that, and if they both noticed their relationship was changed, her no longer the protector, him no longer a child by any measure worth considering, then they did their best not to dwell overlong on them, focusing instead on the better things. If only everything were that easy. He'd been asleep for an entire year, he'd taken part in a war that stretched across the cosmos, and he'd grown in ways he found it difficult to express, that put typical puberty to shame. Suddenly the islands felt delicate, like if he stretched he might destroy them all, and small and stifling. He loved his home, but he wondered if he could remain there.

Sora's mother Susan was by nature quiet and gentle, who expressed herself more through her eyes and the tone of her skin than she did with words. She was tall and broad-shouldered for a woman, and her skin was pale with a sheen to it, which made her look warm and precious as a sylph or spirit of nature. Her hair hung down to the small of her back when braided, and quite a bit longer unbound, still golden and hiding any strands of silver that might have shown fairly well. She had eyes, a paler blue than her son's, which were as soft and gentle as the rest of her. She was young, not far into her thirties despite the silver, and had bore him very young indeed, though she never spoke about it, or where she had come from (for it certainly wasn't the islands, that much he had worked out).

She bred horses for a living, and broke them as well, which seemed incongruous, given the size and shape of the island and the size and shape of Susan, not to mention her gentle nature, but in a world where the internal combustion engine is seen as a noisy, smelly abomination that had its place, provided that it was kept well out of the way where nobody would have to look at it, magic was much too rare and valuable to be wasted on trifles and alternative means like clockwork hadn't really come into their own, the horse was still the favoured means of transport, anachronistic as it seemed, and in the small islands of the archipelago where Sora had grown up, they likely always would be. She owned a field big enough for them all to run and graze, and four score horses of various breed, which she cared for with a firm hand. Sora had no head for it himself, he could ride and care for them as far as chores went, but that was about the extent of his abilities when it came to horses.

Kairi's homecoming had been less dramatic, because she had an advantage that the others did not; she had already spent her time missing, returned, and given what explanations she could. It had been lacking, due to her amnesia that the realm of darkness had caused, but for the most part the rest of the islanders were in the same boat she was, given the toll the realm of darkness exacts on those it swallows, so she'd barely been noted at all. In comparison to that, getting lost for a week was hardly even remarked on. Her foster-parents (though she never thought of them in those terms, her adoption had been happy and welcome) were strict in certain-ways, they had firm ideas of what was proper behaviour for a lady and how one should act, but as if to balance this they were both incredibly lenient in others, and as long as she conformed to their expectations of behaviour and didn't get into any trouble that required their intervention she was free to roam as she wanted, which suited her just fine. She'd been as independent as possible since she could walk three steps without falling on her face.

Kairi's foster-father Cole was the mayor of the island, the closest thing to authority any of them had seen, and he was good at it. Cole was large, portly, expansive and respectable, with a waxed and curled white moustache, a pair of spectacles on a black ribbon, and an entire wardrobe full of white double-breasted suits with brass buttons. He was very well-liked, honest, and the consummate man of the people, a fine organizer and an expert in resolving what issues arose with a shrewdness and cunning that was disarming, often letting him find solutions in such a way that both sides felt they had been fairly treated. He was good at flattering those that needed flattery, finding the right argument for those who were hard to convince, and otherwise ensuring as few hiccups as possible in his running of things, most of which he tried to minimize and let people get on with things. Life was good, why rock the boat?

Her foster-mother was his perfect foil, taller than he was, slim, and practical, firmly in the moment and softly spoken, always busying herself with one task or another. The two had been happily married for a decade, but had been childless until one day a small red-haired girl had been found wandering on their doorstep. They had raised her as best they could, treating her exactly as they would their flesh and blood, but for the most part he encouraged Kairi to go her own way, and if this meant he spent a lot of time unable to account for her, then that was for the best.

When Kairi had returned, they'd both greeted her like she'd just walked out the door. She was in good health, she hadn't gotten into any trouble, or done anything dangerous (far as they could tell), and they'd raised her to be responsible. They trusted her judgment, and if she was all right then what was there to be concerned about?

Riku had it worst. He did not have a good relationship with his parents like the others did. They didn't respect him as an individual with his own dreams and goals, and what they wanted for him was nothing like what he wanted for himself. Neither of them were what you'd call emotionally absent, because they always made time for him when they judged it important, and they did pay attention, but, it seemed to him, only to find new ways to criticize.

Riku's father was a tall, severe, puritanical figure who was gaunt as a skeleton and ground his teeth so that, on quiet nights, the sound filled the house. He wore black, his pallid face lined with a kind of cheerless romance, and believed in hard work, constant labor, and never talking about feelings or emotions, and his mother was much the same, if a touch less passionately. Neither had any time for his somewhat whimsical nature and dreams. Indeed, Riku felt he got his hair from his mother, his seriousness from his father, and nothing else from either.

Riku had always wanted to travel, but given that the wanderlust in his line had caused the family no end of trouble, not least when his grand-uncle had expressed similar sentiments and vanished without warning or explanation, never to be heard from again, his parents weren't too keen on seeing him go the same way. No, they wanted him to do well in school, find a niche, get married young and build himself a house. And Riku had never had any time for their expectations. He had his own idea about what to do with his life, and it didn't mesh with theirs at all. And so they tried to force him to conform to what they felt was best, which only made him dig his heels in and resist more, and by that time any hope of salvaging their relationship was long distant. Both sides were too proud to give any ground, because of this they had more or less ended any closeness they ever did have, and so that was the end of it. Indeed, if not for his friends, he probably wouldn't have ever bothered to come home at all. There was nothing else for him there.

Indeed, since Riku had gotten back, he'd been effectively under house arrest, under constant supervision and locked in his room whenever one of them wasn't around to watch him. He'd only got to the island at all by sneaking out through a window.

But here they were, and they were making the best of it. In the three weeks they'd been back, not one of them had used magic, their Keyblades, or let anything slip about what they'd gone through. They'd promised King Mickey that they'd keep it all to themselves, and they intended to see it through. And so Sora had gone through the three weeks as unconscious to time as a sleeping dog. His entire life seemed almost dreamlike to him during those days, full of inexplicable transitions and unnoticed shifts. Only at times like this did he feel entirely in the moment, entirely alive.

"So what were you really thinking about?" Riku asked Sora. Sora was incapable of concealing anything more than a surprise birthday, and even that for no more than a day or so. All the misdirection and changing the subject in the world wouldn't change that. "You're looking for something."

Sora sighed. "Yeah I am. I don't know, exactly what. I just get the feeling something is happening, somewhere, out there. Something big, that I should be able to see." He sighed. "It's just a feeling," he finished lamely.

"Like what?" Riku pressed. "What do you think it is"

Sora shrugged. "I get the feeling it's something to do with our friends." He stared at the horizon another moment, but nothing revealed itself. Then he sighed, turned around and sat back down.

"Well, must be. Nothing's changed here, has it?" Riku said.

"Nope," Sora replied. "And probably, nothing ever will."

Riku smiled. "What a small world." Once, he would have said those words with bitterness, but his feelings had changed. He never thought he'd be able to see his home again after all that he had done, and here he was, dealing with the same problems he'd dealt with all his young life. It was almost ironic. Before his journey into the depths of the darkness and out again, he had longed, ached to get out of his water-bounded prison, but now that he knew of the other worlds out there, he was ready for some rest. What once had seemed stifling was now a welcome diversion, a chance to recover from his injuries- both mental and physical.

He wouldn't stay here long, he still had the itchy feet and the wanderlust he always had, but seeing his home afresh had struck him once again with the beauty of the islands. He wasn't ready to rest, but if he ever was, if he ever did wish to settle down, he hoped he ended up here. He might not like his house, but the land itself was his home.

Kairi nodded sagely. "Yeah. But it's part of one that's much bigger. And who knows? We're young, and the world is wide and full of wonder."

Sora agreed. "Yeah. Somehow I think we're only just getting started. That someday I'm going to wake up to find the world has moved on, and thrust back into a war..."

The silver haired teen made a noise of agreement, and Kairi shook her head.

"Don't even think about it," the young woman all but scolded. "I'm done with being left behind while you two run off. If you try, I swear I'll kidnap you, and tie you up in my basement to keep you from leaving."

Sora laughed, finally jumping off of his perch. "Hey. I spent the entire time wishing you were there with me. There was so much I wanted to show you, so many things I wanted you to see. If... when we do go, I'll kidnap you first, so you can't miss it all." The spiky haired teen smiled at his closest friends. They had been through hell and back with their adventures, but they knew they could always count on each other.

"Do you think we'll get back? Really?"

"I know we will," Sora replied easily. Not with conviction, with raw certainty. "There's too much still to do to leave things undone." He looked up at the setting sun another moment, and then shook his head one last time, looking wistful. "Let's go home," he said at last.

And so they left. They don't know what is coming, what trials and tragedies await, any more than anyone else does. It is a conceit of the storyteller to address things as a linear series of events, but to those caught up in great things, the world rarely follows such a structure. But they were young, and full of hope, and the world was bright and shining, their whole lives ahead of them. What did they have to be afraid of?

None of them thought to look back, but if they had they would have seen a bottle, clear glass, with a rolled up piece of parchment within, bobbing gently near the shore.

The island they were on was separated from Valmorgen by a narrow trench that carried the mouth of the Great River Rush that Narrowhaven was built alongside out to sea. The channel was narrow, no more than half a kilometer wide at its furthest point, but deceptively deep, its current more than sufficient to drag you out to sea. To that end there was ferry, that connected the little island where they had spent so much of their childhoods and their homes (although how that ferry came to be put there I have never found out), that they used to come and go. It was built for no more than ten people, connected to both shores by a heavy chain that was wound one way or the other to drag the boat, or rather the glorified platform, from one side of the water to the other. It was a simple machine, and fairly easy and safe to operate. Shallow hulled, with a cabin that had just enough room for one, a few controls and an enormous paddlewheel that propelled it across the trench, it could make the trip in no more than ten minutes, allowing them to come and go as they pleased.

Riku was in the cabin at the controls, as he had been from the moment it had been decided that they were old enough to use it unsupervised, and Sora and Kairi were at the helm staring down at the water. It was clear, given the rate freshwater poured into the ocean kept anything from settling, and one could see all the way down to count individual grains of sand if they wanted to, at least when the light was better. Sora closed his eyes, smiling at the feel of the cool breeze, a sweet south-westerly blowing across the oceans and bringing with it all the scents of the oceans of his home upon his face. The calming, familiar scent and embrace stole through his senses, easing any doubts and worries he'd had, when suddenly the boat rocked. Sora slipped a moment in surprise, losing his grip on the handrail, and found himself staring down at the water bellow as the broad gray back of something too large to be a fish was slinking beneath the surface.

It glided by ten feet down, long as a southbound freight train, then moved upwards again as he watched, brushing the ship and sending it rocking once more. A film over its eyes blinked. Long whiskers trailed back from its cavernous mouth - it had a mouth like a castle portcullis, then it glided past, pushing them towards shore with the weight of the water it displaced, and raised its dripping head above the surface. Its furry profile resembled that of a cave man, something old and somehow solemn, perhaps even dignified, though that might be a little too much. It looked about, saw nothing to overly interest it, then dived beneath again, its passage creating a wave that rocked the boat.

"Would you look at that! Bull sea wyrm!" Sora said, pointing excitedly at the beast as it dived beneath again. "Don't think they usually come so close to the coast!" He sounded a little awed. He'd seen pictures, but the actual reality of it was far more than anything so impersonal can prepare you for. Sea Wyrms were (and still are to this day) about the most dangerous predators in the oceans around Ardania; when roused they've been documented to sink Ironclads, crushing them beneath their coils as though the battleships were made of matchsticks. Seeing one here is nothing short of bizarre.

Kairi didn't say anything. She just blinked, then shrugged. "Maybe it's hungry, or chasing something, or maybe something's chasing it?" she said at last, still watching the creature as it surfaced again silently, then dived back down once more.

It almost defied belief, such was its size. Something so huge, so monstrous should have no place on this world, no way to exist. And yet there was no terror, despite how at its mercy they were, nothing but a kind of awe. The beast was majestic in its terrible splendour, like the living avatar of the wrath of the ocean, and from the tip of its tale to the end of its jaw it was beautifully, horribly lethal, the overwhelming power of nature incarnate given physical form.

It made a few more passes, poking its head out each time, but finally decided that there was nothing it wanted all that much aboard, and swam back towards the sea, a dark shape snaking beneath the waves.

Riku stepped out of the cabin, his mouth open. "Did any of you see that?"

"See what? Nothing ever happens here Riku. You know that," Sora barbed his friend gently.

"Very funny. Seriously, that was a bull sea wyrm."

"Yes it was. Apparently it's not hungry, since we're not being dragged to the depths below, so I guess it's looking for something other than its next snack."

Kairi, who had settled down again, spoke up. "I think it was looking for someone. It looked sort of lonely."

That got the consideration it was due.

"I suppose it did. Sort of solemn, I thought. Who would it be looking for?" Sora asked at last.

"Maybe it has a mate, or children, or something like that," Kairi replied. "I guess it's a mystery."

The friends thought again of the old, lonely wyrm searching the endless depths of the

ocean for something it had lost, and a strange melancholy settled over them. Without quite noticing, Sora found himself squeezing Kairi's hand reassuringly.

At last, the old ferry came to a rest at the jetty built for it, they slipped a rope into place tying it down to keep it from drifting about in the current (the chain was too slack to hold it in place) and they got off, making their way along the sparkling white sand. Kairi was barefoot, though if one is prepared to walk on the soft sand and downy turf this is hardly a problem, and Sora and Riku were on either side of her, both looking down at the sand.

A storm was brewing out to sea, too far away to be seen yet, but they could feel the wind Come morning rain would lash the islands and waves would crash against the cliffs, and they would all be forced to spend the day indoors. You or I wouldn't sense anything but a wind, but they'd lived on the islands all their lives, and learned to anticipate the weathers moods.

The three friends made their way up the long clay path leading from the beach to the town where all the residents lived and worked. Narrowhaven was still extremely provincial, as isolationist colonies tend to be. The buildings rarely, if ever, rose above two stories, most of the roads weren't paved, and those that were could hardly be called maintained, and things sprung up almost on their own. The houses were comfy and homey, the majority of them colourful with pink roofs and tan walls, plenty of windows and gardens. As has been noted, it is a tropical paradise, the climate warm, the air clear, the whole place safe and secure enough to leave your doors unlocked. The industrial revolutions and the waves of innovation that had followed had overtaken Ardania in the last century and changed the face of it forever, but had mostly passed the islands by with minimal changes. Electric lights, running water, advanced printing and the like had made their way in, but for the most part that was the extent of it.

Twilight was upon them now, the light fading to make way for night. The sky had turned dark purple, and the ocean, reflecting the sky, had also turned into a murky dark blue-violet. The water looked infinitely deeper than it had just an hour or so earlier. Outside, the street lamps cast their warm yellow light on the road, piercing through the darkness at regular intervals, like tiny islands. Making their way up the road, they stopped at Destiny Plaza, meaning to split up and go their separate ways.

The Plaza was a large, paved square. A huge fountain dominates the square, in the middle a small island where a carefully maintained paopu tree sits, a wide ring of water surrounding it. Jets of water are funnelled up around it in arches, and a few fish swam around in the water. From here, Kairi will make her way to the houses at the top of the hill, Riku will head head down a few streets and be home, and Sora will head beyond the outskirts to his own place. And so they lingered, wordlessly trying to avoid the goodbyes.

"Well, good night," Sora said at last, a little awkwardly, after prolonging the inevitable for as long as he could. The feeling he'd had watching the sun set was back again, and in force.

"Night," Riku said as well, shaking his head, and mentally preparing himself for the ordeal of sneaking back into the house without anyone hearing him, or, (hopefully) ever knowing he was missing

Kairi lingered another moment, staring at her friends, particularly Sora, before she turned and walked away herself. And so, they all went their separate ways.