This is not the life I desired. This is not what I want to be doing.
I stare down at the root cause of my problems, lying at my feet: a single key, four feet in length and constructed like a sword. The guard and pommel are obsidian, but the cylindrical neck and teeth of the key are deep crimson. It reminds me of the blood shed by those taken by the Darkness.
I kick the thing, but it gives no indication that it was hurt by my action. No grunts, no complaints. No accusatory stares.
"Your Majesty."
I hate it when Darkbell calls me that, but it ignores my every attempt to modify its behavior. I don't look away from the keyblade as I address it, mostly because I don't know how to make eye contact with it; I can't tell where it sees from to begin with. My best guess would be the crest. "What is it?"
"This world has a higher concentration of Darkness than the last."
"Is it the Source?"
"I can't say for sure."
Of course it can't be that easy. "Where's the highest concentration of dark energy?" I think I already know, but Darkbell's senses are more reliable.
"The castle."
"Great, another princess," I groan. I flex my fingers, and the keyblade flashes into my hand. "Well," I sigh, "might as well get this over with." I want to get back as fast as possible.
Darkbell's aura shifts into something like a condescending smile, and I know that he's heard my thought.
I sigh again. I never wanted this.