Hi Everyone,

This is my first story in a while, and I've seriously been working on the first chapter for an entire semester to make sure it was perfect. This story is a bit of a baby of mine so I hope you enjoy. It was born on the premise of 1) Exploring new ways of writing a character's experiences, and 2) Creating a world where the Final Fantasy Characters and Kingdom Hearts characters live seamlessly. I've been playing the three 'classic' FFs (7,8. and especially 9 cause it's the easiest and I'm no gamer), as well as continuing to watch my gf wack away at 12. 10 was my first and will always be my favorite. That being said there will be a few FF characters appearing that weren't in the KH games, that and there well be Al-Bhed spoken.

Special thanks to my Girlfrined for profreading this and convincing me that this was way to good of a story idea to sit in my notebook. Also for getting me the FF games for Christmas.

The usual warnings: There will eventually be a relationship between Riku and Sora, and until then a bit of a lopsided Riku/Sora/Kairi/Namine love square cause Riku doesn't know what he wants. Other pairings I am not sure of, so don't bug me (as this has happened with my last story). I'm pretty much of a cannonist with the RiSo exception so don't get your hopes up. And there will be instances of rape, torture, some description of injuries, and swearing.... but probably nothing sexualy explicit (I'm not that kind of writer)

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor Final Fantasy. Square Enix does and I think they make to much money to sell it to me. That sound you hear in the background is not the sound of Riku bound and gaged. Nope, I did not kidnap him I swear.

The Gifted

Prologue- Of the Light in the Dark

Ancient texts say that when the goddess Gaia breathed life into the land she also breathed magick into the world as well. Magick seeped deep into the soil, and when man ate the fruits of the earth they took the magick into their bodies which in turn helped to sustain man.

Man was thrilled about this magick and sought ways to use it to enrich their lives. Study and practice soon gave way to the rise of The Gifted- those born with strong magick flowing through their veins. The Gifted were blessed by the four elemental goddesses with unique powers, some could manipulate the elements, others could protect and heal. Those touched with the special gifts of the moon god Lunniea could even anticipate the future and became great seers and prophets who aided both royalty and the common man alike. The Gifted and Non-Gifted lived side by side in harmony each helping the other. Society benefitted from the union and a great civilization rose and flourished.

But not all gifts were good. Along the way some stumbled upon the writings of the dark god Erebus and were swayed by the immense power they offered. They immediately sized the thrones of the many kingdoms of man and began a rein of terror as they subjugated the people. Resistance was met by death. But alas, after a brief but tumultuous time the dark monarchs fell at the weight of their own power and the dark times seemed to end.

Now instead of being celebrated, the Gifted were now feared as hysteria swept the Non-Gifted and they decided that all magick was evil. The Gifted were forced to hide their power and were often segregated off into splinter societies, many of which fled to the vast deserts of the land where they flourished as nomadic herders. The prophets wept at the sad state of the world and prayed to Lunniea for an answer.

Finally it came. The prophets were graced by a vision of a boy bathed in light holding a mighty sword. He could manipulate all elements in ways never seen before. He was strong and brave, but also kind- a child of the slums. They called him "Corllinn Thalon" which in their ancient tongue meant "Legendary Light Blade's Keeper."

For hundreds of years they awaited him, and watched as the rift between the Gifted and the not grew deeper. The boy that brought hope became but a story told to children.

After the centuries flew by, a King rose whose rein brought glimpse of what could be. Ansem the Wise was in love with learning and built at the center of his grand city a university and temple to the goddess of the wind Sophia whose name meant Knowledge. He embraced the Gifted and welcomed the last of the great prophets into his palace to help guide him.

The peace wouldn't last as a dark cloud grew over the kingdom. One night the king's favorite student slew his mentor and declared himself king. He used the power he gained from studying the dark texts to manipulate the people and strike fear into their hearts.

A dark year pasted and the last great prophet stood at the foot of the false king, dressed in robes the likes of which no one present had ever seen. He was bathed in the god touched glow of the moon, and spoke in a clear, but mocking tone, refusing to accept the rule of the man before him, and knowing full well the words he spoke meant death.

"How dare you sit on that sacred throne when you have touched the forbidden tomes?" he cried.

"You speak likes!" the King exclaimed.

"Lies? Your entire existence is but a lie, you who gained the old king's trust on lies and slew him here on this very spot! Let it be known now the blade of the Chosen One now seeks your head! You can do with me as you wish, but my blood will call to him and three years from now the light will pierce the dark when Corllinn Thalon will take your heart!"

"Silence traitor!"

"I will not yield as long as the sacred wind of Sophia fills my lungs and Lunniea's grace lights my way! And when you kill me my words will remain! Let all who stand here in the sacred hall of Ansem the Wise hear the ancient words inscribed in my heart:

"Even in the deepest darkness,

There will always be a light.

Those who cling falsely to power,

Will fall at the blade of the god's chosen son.

The fates bond boy to sword.

Blessed by goddess' gifts times four,

And a second heart guides him on.

As eyes unseeing prepare the path.

Bathed in heaven's glow he rides forth,

To raise the hopes of those suppressed.

With sacred blade brandished high,

The heart of the false monarch he will take,

To satisfy both god and man alike.

Corllinn Thalon will be his name,

Praised both from land and sky!"

"You speak but of a children's tale. You've awaited Corllinn Thalon for hundreds of years, and for hundreds of years more you will wait again. If it's death you want than I will grant it!" the king spoke.

The gathered crowed applauded his words and jeered at the prophet who stood his ground.

"Now size him! Tonight my friends will be the end of this mad seer. A boy so in love with a children's tale that he couldn't even foresee the foolishness of his own king!"

With that the king's guards dragged the prophet away to the dungeons where the proud seer was stripped of his finery, beaten, and defiled.

While the fiendish guards took delight in their sport, the king sat upon his ill-gotten chair and fretted long and hard. Those words had struck fear in the coward's heart. He know all to well the power of the gods and their oracles. Not one had ever been proven wrong.

Deep in his thoughts, the dark god spoke to his servant, and soon those fears were struck from the king's foul mind. He began to plot ways to stop any child from rising above him. He'd use the people's own paranoia of the Gifted as his weapon. Anyone who exhibited ancient magick would instantly be found, and instead their power would go to him and he would grow stronger. The Chosen One's gift would be his own.

When the clock struck midnight the false King strode into the dungeons deep, followed by his entourage, where the prophet lay prostrated on the executioner's stone. He gave the order and the agent of death raised his blade.

"Stop!" came a woman's cry, and foreword stepped a young witch, the prophet's kin. "Please spare him!"

"And what would you do for me?" asked the King.

"If you spare his life I can erase his mind! With his memory blank he will live, and thus no words can be said. No blood will spill and no gods will you provoke. Corllinn Thalon will sleep at bay!" she spoke.

The king considered the witch's offer as she stood before him nervously. It was a desperate gamble that she proposed. What she could take she could restore, although time would not be on her side. If the precious chain could be reassembled in three years time the prophet could still cry out to the gods, and maybe then Corllinn Thalon would still rise to meet his destiny.

The king was amused at the proposal, and a sadistic plan formed in his mind.

"Then witch, do the deed!" he declared.

Reluctantly she stepped forward and cupped the prophet's head in her hands. She focused her mind and muttered an ancient forbidden charm. The prophet's mind twisted and soon he forgot the essence of his own being. The witch cried out in pain at her own deed.

The guards cut loose the once great seer from his bindings and the witch pulled him into her arms. His broken body was limp and he looked about like a lost child. All those who gathered there laughed and mocked the pair, as the king sneered and ordered them apart.

The skies grew dark as storm clouds closed in on the kingdom. The girl was locked into a cell- the king deciding that her memory manipulation was too valuable to loose. He would test his power sizing plan on her first. The boy was handed over to the guards to dispose of, seeing as now he was rendered useless. In jest they threw him into the castle moat, where he struggled and thrashed in the torrent until his weak confused body could move no more.

The moon god Lunniea watched from his celestial perch and wept tears of rain for his servant. Three days passed and the great spirit mourned. Finally he looked back down on the earth and his eyes grew wide.

At last the ancient power had found a vessel. That day the sun rose to the dawn of a new age.

The Gifted

Chapter One- Of Strangers

Hollow Bastion was a city of contrasts, and right before everyone it was changing. In the center of the city stood the grand palace of the new king Xemnas, and outside it's walls was the sprawling central slum known as the Inner District. The Outer District that ringed the city housed the city's nobility with richly furnished mansions with lush gardens. The whole city lay in a wide costal basin, a natural harbor with a bustling sea port that brought goods from the city and surrounding farmlands to neighboring kingdoms. On the outside of the city limits fertile fields and small villages spread out till they met the rolling foothills of the mountains that served as the city's natural protection. Beyond the mountains lay a barren wasteland of desert inhabited by bands of traveling nomads.

The past year had been one of turmoil. The old king had passed away and with no male heir a fight over the throne had ensued amongst the king's foremost advisors. A few who sought the throne raised private troops and they clashed with the castle's security force- dozens died and finally one man came out on top.

Or so was the official position from those who had risen to power. The details from the survivors didn't match up, and there had been a movement to hush up any rumors that proved to be degrading to the new regime. And in that year- all public speculation had ended as if nothing different had happened.

No one seemed to notice the changes anymore, except for a select few who plotted in secret to bring down the king who they knew in their hearts to be illegitimate. They kept their watchful eyes on the city, looking out for the subtle signs of the king's heavy hand. The populace remained oblivious, but slowly the changes were happening.

One boy did notice the changes, though. The air that had once been thick with Magick now was thin, devoid of the magical currents that sustained life. But no one believed him when he said anything. After all he was just a naive child- what did he know?

"Can you just add it to our account?" the boy asked.

The butcher blinked a few times nervously. The boy before him smiled- a sad pleading smile, his blue eyes tired. He wasn't the most remarkable child ever. He was short for a young man of seventeen and still rather boyish at that, with a mess of brownish- copper hair that stuck out at all angles despite any tries to comb it. The brown linen shirt and pants he wore were worn and patched, and slightly too small. His boots had holes and were crudely sewn back together. Yet those eyes- a blue that mirrored the color of the sky. He supposed that's what had inspired his mother to name him as she did.

"Please sir, we'll try to pay for it. It's just mother and us children now...."

It was the truth. It had become well known in the Inner District that the husband of the district healer had been killed defending the castle. The details surrounding his death- like all the details surrounding the new king- were unclear. Yet it was apparent that the Haruki family had seen better days.

"Alright, but I can't keep on doing this," he replied sectioning off a portion of salt beef and wrapping it in parchment with a mental note not to look into those eyes ever again.

"Thank you very much," the oldest Haruki boy said smiling.

He then ran off with a slight jaunt to his step. The butcher stood and watched him weave his way through the thick crowd past stalls brimming with trade goods both mundane and exotic, where merchants worked to hawk goods to the public. Eventually the boy the tired merchant passed off as ordinary wound his way out of sight.

However, the boy caught the sharp green eyes of another merchant who sat behind a counter of brightly colored woven goods strumming a few cords on an stringed instrument that resembled a blue painted guitar. He stopped mid song and cracked a smile as he watched the boy ran off.

The blonde resumed playing after a time, his song reminding him of blue skies, sand dunes and the gentle heat of the morning spent out in the pasture watching the clouds and his family's flock. It was a traditional melody of his people and unlike anything he could hear around him.

The man was not from the city, instead his home was a small village on the banks of a river that wound it's way through the otherwise barren wasteland of dessert that ringed the farthest regions of the kingdom. His people were driven out to the dessert centuries earlier- the only reason being that they all were able to manipulate the Magicks running deep in their blood.

Magick filled his people- those who the city dwellers called the Al-Bhed for the language they spoke. Magick shaped their lives and helped them adapt to the conditions they lived in. If the rain didn't come, they prayed to their gods and then they made rain. They derived their powers from a deep respect for the earth, nature, and reverence to the gods of the Moon and Sun. The earth was a sacred vessel, nature it's child, and they- the children of the gods- were creation's caretakers.

The people of the city feared what they could not understand. They viewed all Magick and those that used it as in league with demons and all that was dark. What they didn't realize was that their fear allowed the very thing they ran from into their hearts. The darkness was engulfing the city.

"We live in dark times. There are other places where the essence of our life blood is frowned on. I want to find a way to end it. I want to find the light in the darkness. There is someone out there- some call him the Chosen One, others the God-Touched. For me he will always have one name- Corllinn Thalon- and he is the embodiment of godly light," he remembered someone wise once saying.

In fact that person was his own younger brother, a young man who at the age of ten had given his life to the study of the sacred teachings of the Moon god. In return the great spirit had gifted him with the most sacred of Magicks- the power to see the future- a future that showed the coming of a man who would bring peace and understanding between his people and those who lived in the city.

His brother had left the desert at age eighteen in search of the further wisdom of the gods and had been welcomed into the court of the last king. He had come to the city to peddle his family's goods, and to speak with his brother, but instead been turned away and laughed at by the palace guards.

Their actions disheartened him, but seeing that boy had lifted his mood slightly.

"Feba dryd csema uvv ouin vyla. Dra baubma sekrd drehg fa'na dnoehk du bimm y vycd uha," came a woman's voice in an otherwise strange language. He instantly understood her speech as: "Wipe that smile off your face. The people might think we're trying to pull a fast one."

"Gemm sa fro tuh'd oui, Larxene. E teth'd ghuf oui fana pylg!" or "Kill me why don't you, Larxene. I didn't know you were back," he whined running a hand through sandy blond spikes. He was annoyed at her intrusion into his thoughts. "We shouldn't be speaking like this here."

"I know, I know. Stupid uncultured twits. Huh-Kevdat! And they call us animals. Makes me want to start a storm right here. Want to help?" she snarked a spark of lightning flickering across her fingertips. "Anyways, I had to be sneaky Demyx, or I'd give everything away."

"No storms here. What if someone saw?" Demyx asked flicking water droplets that had formed on his fingers towards her to her frustration. "What did city division have to say? I couldn't talk with brother. The guards laughed and told me to go back to where I came from."

"He's not at the palace anymore, from what that weird Cloud guy said. The idiot opened his mouth before they could rescue him. Pissed the big guy off. They're afraid he's been killed, being one of us 'heathens' and all," Larxene said with an air of annoyance.

"Tyshed! He would have been a help to the resistance," the man exclaimed to the fright of some passers by.

"And what of your daughter?"

"Missing as well."

His heart sank at her news. His own brother was presumed dead. Granted he was only his half brother and ten years separated their ages, but he had practically raised the kid when their father abandoned him. He had risen on his own to become well respected, and now it seemed his life had been cut short for spreading the truth around. After all from what he had said, he had witnessed the old king's death under mysterious circumstances- a fact that the new king had been quick to cover.

His sister seemed unfazed about the revelations she had made, which was typical for her. Their family had gone through a series of upheavals, and their father was long considered crazy for his strict traditional views on family and marriage, views that lead to several remarriages- some to close relatives, many children, and crumbling finances plus all the problems that came with inbreeding. She had been forced to marry young, and the bastard of a husband couldn't handle the pressures of their large family on top of his social responsibilities- and left her. Now she showed little outward emotion except for anger and annoyance and was prone to exploding when everyone least expected it. Something he assumed was fueled by her innate gift of Storm Magick.

"Hey sis what do you make of that kid over there?" he asked motioning in the boy he had seen earlier's direction. The petite brunette boy was currently helping a woman who appeared to be his mother load parcels unto a small mule driven cart.

"Looks just like a goofy idiot. I hate kids," she replied.

"Why did you have so many then?"

"You know the answer to that and if you don't then I'll kill you." she replied annoyed.


"I got the meat on credit," the boy announced triumphantly.

"Oh, thank you Sora," his mother replied taking the parcel from him and placing it in the small cart along with baskets of vegetables and other goods.

Aerith Haruki looked at her son, his simple happiness was infectious. She helped him up onto the seat of the cart and sat down next to him. With a flip of the reins she then drove the cart out of the market.

The city was set up with the castle in the center which was built over a wide swift moving river that emptied out in to Bastion Harbor, on the other side of the castle. The Inner District ringed the interior wall of the castle, while Bastion Port ringed the outer wall and harbor. The market in the inner district was situated along the castle wall so that goods could be directly shipped inward.

As they drove Aerith noticed that the garbage from the previous three days of rain had accumulated and was currently choking off the flow of the river. Clean up was only just beginning, as workers lined the bank readying a barge for transport.

Sora was less interested in the river and instead was concentrating on ways to potentially get out of sword training that afternoon. Just then there was a sharp pain in his chest and his ears began to ring.

"Are you the chosen one?" a girl's voice asked through the ringing.

His breath was knocked out of him and he wasn't even sure if the voice was real.

"Go to the river! You have to help him! Please!" the voice pleaded.

And just as soon as it began the pain, and the noise vanished.

"Mom, stop!" Sora suddenly cried, gaining his air back.

Aerith had no other choice but to comply as the boy who had just been heaving for air, suddenly vaulted himself over the seat edge and ran towards the river's bank.

"Sora what are you doing?" she exclaimed as he began to frantically paw through the bales.

"I saw something!" he yelled back.

A crowd had begun to form on the bank as he continued his frantic search. Finally he lunged forward, body precariously hanging over the river's edge. She saw him pull a white arm out of the jumble, and with a heave he pulled a body from the water and dragged them to safety. Aerith dismounted and ran towards her boy.

"Alright everyone let's give the poor thing some privacy. Nothing to look at here," she announced.

There were a few murmurs from those gathered there to gawk, but soon the road cleared, and all that could be heard was the quiet rushing of water from the river, and the sounds of the workers at the bank.

Sora dragged the stranger to a flat spot on the cobblestone road and laid them down, taking a knee beside them as he began to survey the body.

The first discernible feature of the figure was a mess of long tangled silvery white hair. Aerith sat down on the ground and gingerly turned the stranger over, resting their head on her lap, and clearing the hair from the face.

He was male, and surprisingly young for one with such color hair- a boy of around Sora's age with an almost feminine face, soft cheekbones, sharp nose, defined chin, and pale skin, bruising marring the softness of his features.

He was unconscious with weak breathing and an erratic heartbeat. She was not sure if it was from the beating his body had taken or the condition of his subsequent abandonment in the water. For what ever reason he was in terrible shape- emaciated, with a fever and several tender and swollen areas all over his body. His right ankle was especially swollen indicating a possible break.

He bore no particular marks of rank, his clothes were too large for his body and were made of simple brown cloth with a rough weave and were torn and dirty. Upon close inspection she discovered a pouch hanging from his belt. It was of woven fabric with a gradiated banding of colors of rosy orange, light blue, and royal blue running across it's width. She pulled open the drawstring and found a small scroll printed with now illegible writing, and a several glass beads of the same colors of the pouch plus a few star and moon shaped silver charms. The last item was an intricate silver pendant hanging from a chain. It's over all design was of two circles that formed a crescent shape, and further examination revealed an inscription in an ancient unknown script. It was an obviously personal piece as it was the only item on his body that could potentially identify him. She'd have to take it to the district's elder later to see if the script could be discerned.

"Sora, clear a space in the cart. He's going to need a lot more attention then what I can give here," she said stuffing the pouches contents back in and placing the whole thing in her pocket.

The boy did as he was asked and began to stack the parcels of food against the side of the wagon box. When he was done, under Aerith's direction he picked the stranger up by the shoulders and moved him towards the cart as she supported his legs. The laid him into the cart, sitting him up and using the parcels to cushion his body.

"Are we going to take him home? What about the kids?" Sora asked.

"If I can keep constant watch on him he'll recover. He just needs rest, food, and plenty of care. It's nothing I can't handle. Sora, you can look after the children for me," she replied as she began to drive the cart towards home.

She didn't have much faith in her own words- she was a healer, not a miracle worker and certainly no doctor. It was no lie to her that the boy was on the verge of death. But he deserved more dignity than dyeing on a river bank. She'd give him a bed and the best fighting chance at life that she could give.

The journey home was long, Aerith choosing a route that insured a mostly smooth ride, but took them further out of their way. Their passenger stirred a few times, moaning if they hit a bump, but every time Sora looked back to check on him, his eyes were firmly closed, head resting limply to the side.

"He'll be fine," Aerith assured a few times. "You did a good thing Sora, I'm proud of you."

"It's weird mom. I almost feel like I was called to rescue him. Like a voice inside my head."

"A voice? And what did the pixies steal your good shoes again?" she teased.

"MOM!" he exclaimed elbowing her.

After that there was silence as they made their way towards their home.

The Haruki home was located in the middle of one of the poorer parts of the Inner District, but luckily that borough escaped much of the crime that plagued other parts of the District. Due to Aerith's profession as a healer, the family enjoyed the respect of their neighbors and their home was small but tidy. Aerith's late husband had been a palace guard and worked hard to provide the home for the family- denying an offer to move into the palace's working quarters so Aerith could remain with her patients that she had grown up with. The personal pride he put into their home showed as the plaster walls had been freshly painted before his death and a rare flower garden graced the front of the house.

When they arrived the two of them ran inside. Aerith ushered her children into the small backyard to play with much protest from the little ones. Sora followed her inside and set about to ready bedding for their guest.

It was a small house with one room, partially divided so the kitchen was separate, but the hearth still heated the living area. They had very little furniture save for a few chests for belongings and a table in the kitchen for preparing food. Most of the time they spent inside was sitting on cushions on the wood floor- the one luxury that their father could afford.

They were a simple family. No one complained about the lack of luxuries because they hadn't known anything else. Aerith earned a tidy income from her work, and with winter approaching she was heading into her busy season. Sora and his younger brother Tidus were pretty much guarantied jobs in the District security force if they followed in their father's footsteps, and Sora was already showing promise with his practice weapon. He'd most likely enter into training after he came of age at eighteen and that day was less than a year away. Not to mention that he had a few magical skills that he inherited from his mother- despite the fact that he was untrained and rather prone to accidents because of the untapped magic running through his body. Aerith had hoped to apprentice him to one of the district's mages but they all wanted to much money in exchange for training and there was a strict taboo on magic use.

Sora bent over a chest in the far corner of the room and found the family's most comfortable sleeping mat and unfolded it close to the hearth.

Aerith soon returned inside, this time carrying the stranger gingerly in her arms. She laid him down on the mat using a floor cushion to prop up his head. The ride had clearly jostled him, and he was showing signs of coming to consciousness- moving his head restlessly and making weak attempts at swatting Aerith's hands away as she prodded his body for signs of injury.

Sora retrieved her healer's kit for her and she worked to quickly stabilize and wrap his swollen ankle after he cried in pain when she pressed on it. She felt bad for distressing him and murmured a quick comfort spell to calm him, before she elevated the injury with another cushion.

It was now getting past noon time and Sora prepared a quick meal for his siblings and joined them outside to keep them busy and allow Aerith the concentration she needed to work on her patient.

His thoughts kept on drifting to the pale haired stranger inside though. He didn't know who the other boy was but he had felt some kind of a connection to him, like some part of his being knew him. It was an odd sensation and he quickly dismissed it as sympathy. He also picked up on a strong magic running through the other boy that peaked his curiosity. Not many others showed that kind of gift and just maybe he'd finally have someone to share in his growing powers with.

Part of him was thrilled to have another boy his age in his house as most of his peers had either entered training for their chosen professions or been sent out to the farmlands as laborers. Children in Hollow Bastion grew up to quickly to meet the reality of the harsh lives they were to lead and he almost envied his younger siblings for their still carefree attitudes. He loved being a child and most saw him as naive almost to a fault for trying to hold on as long as he could. Despite that he could just as easily accept the responsibilities handed to him after his father's death. He was now the man of the house and was now looked to to hold his head up and become that man.

As his thoughts wandered, night fell and he ushered the children back inside. He helped his younger sister Selphie cook a dinner of watery stew and worked to keep his younger siblings from bothering Aerith. After the dinner was finished the children settled down in the living area for the night.

Sora approached his mother afterwards with a bowl of stew and offered it to her. She had long since finished tending to her patient, and exhausted her supply of bandages as well as healing and comfort spells looking after him. He had exerted himself to much from trying to fight her, his fevered state fogging his mind making him behave irrationally, and now he was sleeping comfortably underneath the weight of a thick blanket.

His condition was still unstable and she didn't want to leave him in this state, and had since taken to combing out his hair gently. The silvery tresses now fell in soft feathery layers that accentuated his face although there was a large irregular patch of hair on the right side of his face that looked like it had hastily been cut off with out much regard to his appearance.

"How is he?" Sora asked.

Aerith took the bowl from Sora and set it down beside her. Lifting the boy's head, she began to spoon the broth in to his mouth massaging the back of his neck to ease it down.

"As soon as this fever passes he should be fine with enough rest and food," she replied repeating her earlier assertion.

"What do you think happened to him?" he wondered.

"Looks like he got beaten up pretty badly and then just left there to die if no one found him. I'm sure he'll have an interesting story to tell when he feels better," she replied.

She finished spooning off the broth for him and finished the bowl off by eating the bits of beef and vegetables that were left.

Sora fetched her sleeping mat for her, and then decided it was best for him to join his siblings on the other side of the partition.

The oldest of his younger siblings- Tidus was sprawled out on his back on his mat. He was fifteen years old and lacked the maturity of his age- taking his father's death especially hard.

Selphie- an awkwardly romantic girl of eleven- was leaning on her elbows waiting for Sora. He could see the two small blonde heads of his youngest siblings poking out from the blanket over her mat.

"Vaan is sleeping with you tonight?" he asked.

"I guess."

"I dunt want to sleep wit Tidus. He kicks," came the sleepy reply from the youngest boy of three.

Usually he slept with Sora but since their guest was sleeping on Sora's mat he had curled up with Selphie and his other sister, Penello of seven, leaving Sora to sleep with Tidus who had violent nightmares and usually slept alone.

Sora sat down next to Tidus and gently rolled him onto his side. He mumbled something about hating their father before settling down. Sora lay down next to him, sighing at another of Tidus's murmured remarks.

"So what's he like?" Selphie asked.

"Who?" Sora replied.

"Mom's patient."

"He's just been sleeping the entire time."

"Is he handsome?"

"I don't look at other guys."

"What does he look like then?" she giggled.

"He's got long white hair. I don't know, I guess he's kinda pretty," Sora replied slightly annoyed.

"Men aren't pretty, silly."

"For a lack of a better word he is."

"You must be tired if you're calling guys pretty."

"You have no idea."

"Shut up and sleep," Tidus mumbled as he turned over right on top of his brother.

It was going to be a long night.


In a place vastly different yet really not to far from where the Haruki family had curled up for the night a young girl woke up n a daze on the ground, the smell of moldy straw instantly assaulting her nose. Her small frame shivered from the could raw air, making the ache she felt all over her body that much worse. On top of everything she just had the strongest sense of having been violated both mentally and physically.

She had done something horrible- guilt welled up from the pit of her stomach, and it felt like a monster had taken refuge there and now was threatening to eat her insides. She could not comprehend which felt worse- the fact she felt like something terrible had been done to her or the guilt she felt over what she had been made to do.

The girl drew herself up into a sitting position and cast her gaze about the room small dark room. The only light coming in was moonlight filtering through a small slit of a window- and it made the room glow an eerie blue. From what she could see she was locked in a cell in a dungeon, the rough stone walls damp with moisture from the sewers.

She was alone- no sign of the person she had kept a constant watch over. She could only imagine what had become of him.

"So witch I can see why you hid this gift of yours for so long. But don't worry I have the most marvelous use for it. It won't go wasted for much longer. Thank you for helping give your beloved the punishment he deserved," She remembered in horror.

Dread began to surface along with her guilt.

"What have I done?" She asked out loud to no one in particular. She expected no response but secretly hoped and wished for that familiar sarcastic yet reassuring voice she craved to hear, the voice that would let her know that everything was all right.

Nothing.

She cried. She had destroyed him. It was her fault he wasn't there. Tears that started as tiny drops soon became rivers that ran down her face.

"I'm so sorry," she wailed.


Sora awoke in the middle of the night, when a loud crack of thunder shook the house. There was a chill in the air and an eerie blue glow permitted the darkness. He glanced about him, his eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness. Tidus had rolled over on his side away from him taking the blanket with him. He almost felt alone.

He was about to curl up closer to his brother, when he felt a strong urge to stand up and walk over to the other side of the house. He wanted to ignore it but the more he lay there the more commanding the urge grew and he couldn't ignore it any longer. As he reached the partition, he glanced over to the back entry way. The door had been blown open, and shrouded in an almost ethereal light and silhouetted by the rain was a pure white cat sitting majestically in the door frame. It almost seemed to be more of apparition than a reality.

Sora wanted to investigate the animal, but movement caught his eye followed by a low whine coming from the direction of the hearth. The fire had died down because of the rain, and he knew putting a log on was rather pointless but he did it anyway. He needed the light.

The fire sprang to life, almost as if it was somehow now protected from the rain that had put it out. Once he could see what he was doing he glanced about the kitchen. Aerith was fast asleep sitting up which only meant one thing to him- she had completely used up her healing magic and exhausted herself.

Her patient however was looking far worse as he lay there covered in a thick sweat, and moving his head listlessly from side to side. The boy's fever was growing and Sora could not wake Aerith up until morning- otherwise she would not be able to recharge her magic. He panicked for a second before the rational part of his mind took over.

His first instinct told him that he had to cool the patient down. Aerith had left a basin of water out by the hearth along with a few dry washcloths. He wet one and after folding it over he placed it over the other boy's forehead. The effect seemed to work almost instantly and he calmed.

There were times in the past where he had watched his mother with her patients and although he lacked her talent, he had learned much from her. Enough so that she trusted him as an assistant at times. However, it almost seemed as if some unknown force, rather than knowledge, was guiding him towards what he had to do.

The patient seemed to be settling down now and as he looked over the boy's face in the dim fire light he noticed that the boy's lips were awfully dry and he remembered Aerith saying the one thing that helped with fever the most was keeping the patient hydrated. There was a cup beside his mat, but after Sora filled it with water he found that the liquid just dribbled down the boy's chin. Disheartened he wasn't sure what he could do.

"Ice chips," a girl's voice reverberated inside his mind. It was the same voice as before- the one that told him to run to the river. "Feed him ice chips. It always works."

"Ice?" he asked. "I can't get ice! It's past midnight!"

"If you're the chosen one then you can make some! I know you can," she insisted.

"How?"

"With magick silly!"

Magick- he hardly used it, and he lacked the ability to control it. In this moment though, he was desperate, and he could try anything.

"Please, help me help him," he cried.

"I'll try."

Sora felt an energy well up from with in him. His limbs tingled with it as the energy spread from the pit of his stomach and out wards to his hands and feet.

He glanced over at the basin of water, and a soft mewing sound- almost like an encouragement- filled his ears. The cat- It was still sitting in the doorway where he had last seen it. Curious he made to walk over to it, but the animal made a bowing gesture and ran off into the rain.

The storm still raged over head as more cracks of thunder permeated the silence. He hated thunderstorms and tried to suppress his fears, returning his thoughts to his patient and the task before him.

"You can do it. I know you can," the girl assured.

He centered his energy much in the way he had seen his mother do before. He concentrated on his desire to help the unknown boy and how much he hated it when people suffered.

He reached out to the basin and dipped his fingers into the water. The liquid grew shockingly cold and an ice crystal formed in his fingers. Cupping the crystal in his fingers he then pressed it to the boy's lips. As it melted he could see the water went right into the boy's mouth. He repeated the gesture several times before taking the boy's hand in his own and muttering a few words of encouragement before he curled up next to the boy, resting his head on the other's chest.

A few hours passed like that, Sora almost falling asleep with the rhythmic sound of the boy's heartbeat filling his head. The boy had relaxed completely now, and he felt an immense sense of satisfaction that he had helped the boy. If anything Sora just wanted the boy to know that someone was there for him.

The story outside though was completely different as the storm continued to rage overhead. For a time the thunder had ceased but just as suddenly as the storm had started another round of low booms filled the valley that was Hollow Bastion. Sora had reached a point where he was calm enough not to be bothered but as the booming grew closer, it began to disturb the boy who's fever still burned deep with in his mind. He began to grow restless again and Sora picked himself up and tried to calm him with no avail. Turning once again to the basin he dipped his fingers in.

Just then there was an almost blinding flash of lightning and the house shook from a boom of thunder. The boy's body sized, his impaired mind unable to comprehend the real threat of the storm. Sora panicked and tried to rush the freezing process.

Suddenly he felt an unknown power take over him and it fed on his desire to calm the boy down. He tried to shake it but soon found that not only had his hand frozen over in the water, but that his body and his will froze as well. There was suddenly a loud crash outside as if it now was raining needles. The temperature around him grew stifling cold.

Sora could feel all the energy in his body drain as it flowed into the other boy, his limbs grew heavy and his head felt like it could explode. And just as soon as the feeling began it was over. His body collapsed forward, sprawling it's self on top of the other boy, and he fell into a deep sleep.

From its perch just outside the doorway, the cat watched the entire event. It felt bad for using the smaller boy in such a way, but mostly it had been his own desire to help that had set everything in motion. Now everything that could be done in the moment had transpired. What was left was now to wait.

It trotted over to the two sleeping boys, and delicately lay one of it's paws on the white haired boy's forehead. The fever was gone. The other had done his part and played it well. Moving over to where Sora lay it whispered in his ear:

"Thank you for taking care of my servant, I have no doubt in my mind now. You are him," it mewed.

It then ran off into the clearing storm, becoming a silvery stream of energy rushing off from the surface of the world towards the sky.


From her cell the young blonde haired girl saw the silver arc as it made it's way into the sky. Her blue eyes filled with wonder and awe for a part of her knew exactly what it was. She stood up and walked towards the window as the arc disappeared into the clearing storm clouds. As it did so the clouds moved away from where they had been obscuring the moon, it's bright crescent shape now bathed the world in gentle moonlight.

She dropped to her knees in reverent prayer to the god whose sign she just saw.

"I hale to thee Lunniea- Prince of the moon, Dream Giver, and Lord of the never-ending cycle. Through your grace I pray to thee. Reveal to thyself, thine humble servant, the path this one must take to right this wrong I have caused to your holiness."

Stretching her arms out wide and closing her eyes, she waited as she knelt there. Soon her body felt heavy and she curled up on the cell floor and gave herself over to the Dream Giver.

"Naminé?" called a disembodied male voice. It was familiar, yet distorted. The darkness of sleep condensed upon itself and a grey mist began to form around her. Walls encircled her, and she found herself in a richly decorated room. She knew this place. It was her own memory. She stepped forward as the tile floor formed. In front of her sat a robed figure with shoulder length hair over which was pinned a opaque veil. He was sitting in front of a lavishly appointed shrine- the centerpiece of which was a statue of a robed figure bearing a large broadsword, and wearing a crescent shaped headdress- the god Lunniea. Potted white lilies surrounded the statue as well as a ring of lighted pillar candles. The smell of burning sage reached her and she could hear the sound of a quill pen scratching parchment.

"Yes dear?" she asked.

"He came to me last night in a dream," the young man's voice answered..

"And?"

"The darkness will end. But I'm afraid my life will as well."

"No!" she cried.

"I've accepted my fate. I am a servant of the people. I must go to the king- the false king- and utter the Prayer of Calling. For that he will kill me."

"Is there any other way?"

"In order for the Prayer to work the king has to hear it from my lips in front of his court. And then in three years time Corllinn will awaken."

Her heart sank for the second time at hearing his words.

"'As eyes unseeing prepare the path' that is my fate and I will not back down. Lunniea will welcome me into his holy court with open arms. And I cannot let that bastard win. I am not afraid to confront the darkness."

"You're a prophet not a martyr!"

"Sometimes fate dictates that I be both. I put the rest in your hands. I am leaving my testament here for those who need it. When I leave you must set a barrier to protect this room. I've also sent my familiar out to find the boy. When she does you will see a sign. Watch over him, treat him the way you'd treat me."

With that he stood a glow forming around his body. His many robes touching the floor and forming a train that pooled around him. He looked more like a statue than anything else as wide sashes in colors of silver, blue, and muted purple, were tied around his waist and long sleeves cascaded from his shoulders to obscure his hands. The veil on head dripped down the sides of his face. His white hair peaked out from underneath, a lock of which was braided and decorated with tri-colored beads as was customary for those of their heritage. He walked towards her leaning his weight on a staff of white colored wood carved with an intricate design of angel's and demon wings and ending with a jeweled crescent moon at the top.

He reached out to her and pulled her into an embrace, resting his head for a brief moment on her shoulder as they held each other. After the brief moment of closeness, he then brought his hand up to her face and she looked into his eyes before he kissed her.

"How many times have you been kissed by a God-Touched?" he said before he left the room.

Her vision swirled and condensed again, and when she woke she was back in that lonely cell with the thought of her last intimate moment with her love fresh in her mind. Before her heart had been filled with doubt over what she had done- she had broken a vow and used a dark power to erase the mind of the man she loved. Now thanks to the vision granted to her, she remembered why she had done the deed- she had done it to save him, and the suffering he was soon to feel was not in vain.

"You found a way to save him," an other voice reverberated in her mind. It wasn't the voice of her love, but one strikingly similar, just only softer. "And trust me he has been saved. Now he resides with my Chosen One himself. You took apart his mind. It wasn't easy for you or for him. But you now have the task to restore it. Three years he will spend with Corllinn, thus three years you have to restore him. Everything rests in your hands."

"Thank you my lord," she said as tears ran down her face. "And I know you can't hear me, but I'm sorry, Riku."

- hope you enjoyed please comment and critique!