Those Trivial Recollections

Chapter Eight: Strange Menagerie (part 1)

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I will find out if they truly stand with me or against me. Even if they all appear to side with me, some loyalties will be stronger than others. I must find those who are willing to do whatever it takes to find our Kingdom Hearts... Even if a man can command the ocean, the tide can still turn.

"Xemnas?"

The tanned man was brought out of his thoughts by a meek voice. Xemnas' face did not change in expression, the only part of him that moved in response were his eyes which were now regarding her. "What is it?"

Having got his pointed attention she averted her gaze back to her feet which were dangling over the edge of the bed. Mumbling even quieter then before, "Why can't I...go outside?" To this, he raised an eyebrow. He let out a sigh and lowered the hand that his chin rested on, "It might not seem like it, but the others are not as...merciful nor sympathetic as me." It wasn't that he had those traits in any greater degree than the others, but the gist would be understood.

"The person next door doesn't seem so bad." She tentatively reasons.

"That may soon change." He folded his hands together and rested his chin on them once again.

"Why would it change?" The girl wrung her hands together nervously in her lap.

The pressed corners of his mouth twitched down. "I am giving them power...and power can corrupt."

"Then why do it?" She continued to stare at the hands in her lap.

A deep sigh. "Some evils are necessary."

Her voice began to tinge with despair. "But why?"

He opened his mouth but paused, his words were caught partway from his thoughts.

"What could be worth it?" 'No name' finally looked up to him, her sad blue eyes locking with his glazed amber ones.

A flash of hesitation passed over his face before reversing back to his passive mask. He slowly got up from his seat at his mute-white desk and stood next to her. She looked up at him and his blank face. He raised a gloved hand in the same way he would summon and banish Dusks; she was expecting for him to send her back and fearfully clamped her eyes shut at the thought.

No banishing feeling came, only a soft pat on her head and an almost inaudible, "You wouldn't understand."

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Issat how it is, huh? I'd call it pure freaking insanity if I didn't believe it too ya know? Guess being crazy can be contagious.

"My head feels weird..."

Xigbar raised up a hand to his temple in an attempt to press out the odd headache that seemed to be forming. When his hand dropped too fast he snapped open his eye. The usual grey-white ceiling he saw every day greeted him yet again. The man snorted and casually closed his eye again. He had probably slept on his arm too long at some point during the night.

Unable to really slip off to sleep again he began to yawn and stretch out his arms. He froze in his stretches when he abruptly felt his ponytail swish into his shoulder blade. Arms still stretched to his sides, he gazed up again at the 'ceiling' only to realize that it was really the floor. He laughed curtly at his position, "So this is what vertigo feels like!"

He looked down/up to where his feet were securely rooted to the real ceiling. What was interesting was how it felt so normal despite how obvious it wasn't. Carefully he tapped his foot on the ceiling, for all he knew, it could break whatever magic was keeping him from splattering his skull onto the floor. Seeing that the action didn't make him plunge hurtfully into the floor, he began to hop up and down to further test the actuality of his breaking of the basic rules of gravity.

Xigbar's black boots once again returned back to their station on the ceiling and he chuckled to himself, "I'd bet the others would freak out, wonder how Vexen would take this?" The image of a distressed Vexen pulling out his hair in frustration and then setting fire to a stack of his notes amused Xigbar.

That's when the man finally realized something, "...How do I get down?" He cast a glance towards the upside-down door and made his way towards it, his boots clomping softly on the ceiling as he did. When he arrived at the wall with the door he tried to reach the knob; unfortunately his arms were too short to reach it. Xigbar snorted again at the situation and tried to hop his way up/down to the knob. His gloved fingers barely brushing against the ivory handle each time.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he resigned in temporary defeat 'down' into a sitting position on the ceiling. "Damn ridiculously high ceiling," he cursed to himself. Xigbar glared at the inanimate door as he scoured his mind for possible ways to get down.

"I know..." Xigbar smugly whispered to himself. He hopped back onto his feet and swaggered to the wall. Firmly placing his boot on the wall, he began to walk down. Having reached the proper floor and appropriate field of gravity, he flashed a grin at the ceiling. "Take that and shove it messed up gravity!" He proudly extended a gloved hand to the door and began to turn the handle only for it to stop and rebelliously click at his desperate half-turns.

He jostled the doorknob helplessly and then gave the door some well placed hits on its frame. His already droopy shoulders sagged even lower and he began to knock his forehead against the door in dismal defeat. "Damn," thump. "You," thump. "Door," thump.

Xigbar pried himself off of the door slowly and trotted over to his small desk. He ran a free hand over his face and hair before giving the sealed door another dirty look. His gaze eventually trailed down to the black book sitting on his table. How were they supposed to write about anything if Xemnas kept on pulling these kinds of tricks? A lazy smile crawled onto his lips as he propped up the book on its covers. He lightly raised his hand up idly above the book.

Closing his ring and pinky fingers, he straightened his index and middle at the book, his thumb still pointing upwards. He tilted his hand down slowly then flicked it upwards from the book, "Bang." He deliberately spoke the word forcefully enough to make the book fall dramatically backwards onto the table. Xigbar smirked and then stowed the 'gun' back to where a holster would have been on his cloak.

Xigbar stared at the book that now laid on his desk. Why had he been compelled to do something so...cheesy? Boredom wasn't that strong was it? He scratched his chin thoughtfully. It was probably a leftover habit from his 'other life'.

"Heh, guess my other self was some kinda gun freak eh?" He quickly drew the 'gun' and pointed it at the door that barred him from sweet freedom. "Wonder if he was any good?" Silence. "Wouldn't be surprised if Xemnas knew the answer." Xigbar opened his hand fully and let it fall to his side. Xigbar had a tendency to talk to himself whether he realized it or not. It was probably because silence bugged the crap out of him.

He shrugged to himself and shook his head sternly. "Damn, being in a room all by yourself really does make you go crazy. It'd explain Xemnas' craziness for sure."

"Superior's mind is functioning perfectly!"

Xigbar flinched at the unexpected response. He couldn't tell where the voice was coming from, but it was definitely not human. Instinctively he reached down to the area next to his hip and grabbed. His fingers passed through the air and he realized that there was no weapon to defend himself with. A small humanoid blob emerged out of the ground and began to walk twitchingly towards him.

Being weaponless but not foolhardy, Xigbar ran up the wall and stationed himself safely on the ceiling high above the alien creature. He sorely wished he had a real gun instead of his strange ability to alter his gravity. The creature looked up at him with its eyeless face and began to happily wave at him with its flipper-like hands. "Freeshooter is blessed with Power over Space!"

Xigbar nearly lost his footing on the ceiling at the creature's bizarre claim. "Freeshooter should come down! Freeshooter does not have complete control over his power!" The white creature tried to coax him down by gesturing its bound hands at him. Even though it thought it was being persuasive, the gestures only made Xigbar cringe away from it and closer to the ceiling's surface. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Freeshooter could damage himself!" The creature was now jumping up and down, each jump bringing it ever closer to the tightly crouching figure of Xigbar. "Tch, says who? Freakyass talking trash bag..." The creature leapt up, finally latched itself onto his arm and tried to pry him down. "Dusk is trying to help master!" Xigbar ignored it and began to try to shake it off, "Get off!"

"Dusk is trying to help master!" The Dusk held onto his arm for dear nothing. Something in Xigbar's mind snapped and a new weight crackled into his free hand. "GET OFF!" He pointed the tip of it threateningly at the Dusk and it immediately stopped squirming on his arm. The Dusk seemed to gasp in awe at the sight of it rather then properly fear it. "Freeshooter is blessed with a magnificent weapon!"

"What?" Xigbar suddenly dropped to the ground but stopped himself just in front of where he should have impacted. The Dusk slithered off his arm and cheerfully muttered to itself. Xigbar ignored the Dusk and stood upright on the proper ground to regain his bearings. He looked over the strange grey and purple weapon now in his hand. Pulling the trigger experimentally, the weapon shot a red arrow-like bullet that embedded itself into the wall.

He turned it over in his hands and trailed a finger along the diamond spikes on the bottom. Xigbar looked back to where he had shot the wall, much to his surprise, the bullet nor any marking of it, was there any more. The gunner looked over the weapon and wondered what to do with it now. As if it could sense his thoughts, the gun faded away into the air. Xigbar closed and opened his hand to feel if it was somehow still there.

The Dusk tugged energetically at his other sleeve, "Freeshooter has fully awakened. Superior wants to see you now..."

Xigbar couldn't help but scoff at the Dusk's statement, "Heh, I guess I could say the same."

Just another trick of yours, eh Xemnas?

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I guess some wishes can come true! I don't care what the older ones say, I'm happy to have gotten this! Truth is relative to the proof! Argh, oh man...that stuffy science-speak of Vexen's is starting to rub off on me!

Bright sun, clear skies, crystalline water...wait, who's that person on the sand? Why are they sitting under an umbrella and reading a book of all things? What a sad way to spend a day at the beach! They look so familiar, turn their face a little more...who is it-?

plip! plip! pliiiip!

Demyx wrinkled his nose uncomfortably and swatted at his face. His eyes cracked open blearily. Why was there water dripping on his face? plip! So cold! The blond strained to sit up from his bed, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. What time was it? He yawned loudly and used a free hand to comb back the unruly strands of his bed head out of his eyes. plip! The drop of water fell into his mouth and he sputtered.

Having lost his last shred of patience, he leaped out of his disheveled bed and glared as angrily as he could at the ceiling. A pulsating and dark blue puddle of water looked back him. Demyx titled his head to the side at the water and it seemed to follow him. Suddenly more curious then angry, he started to move around while still looking at the water. The liquid obediently mimicked and moved along with him.

The blond stopped his movements and stared once again at the water. Wringing his hands in front of him and in a shaky voice he addressed it, "Hello..?" The water responded by dropping down onto the floor and forming itself into a crude copy of Demyx. After fully stabilizing itself, it smiled and waved silently back at him.

His blue eyes widened as far as they could go and he clumsily bolted for the door. Poor Demyx tried to wretch the door open but it refused his pleas. The water doppelganger looked at him and bubbled questioningly behind him. Having failed to force the door open, Demyx crumpled into a defenseless and panting pile on the floor. Slowly he turned around to face the watery clone and gulped loudly at the sight of it.

"You're not gonna kill me or something...right?" He really didn't want to sound so scared, but he couldn't help it. The doppelganger blinked at Demyx and smiled once again. Lifting up a watery hand it happily flashed him the peace sign before flowing towards Demyx to help him up. Demyx couldn't hold back on laughing at it all once his fear had been dispelled. "Melodious Nocturne is so talented with his Control over Water!"

The Dusk that had spoken formed itself in front of Demyx. Demyx yelped fearfully and jumped up into the arms of his equally startled water clone. "Dusk is here to help Melodious Nocturne discover his power!" The Dusk patted Demyx's arm firmly to reassure him, but it's clammy touch only made the shaking blond even more terrified of it. Finally noticing that the contact was making Demyx more uncomfortable, the Dusk stopped and saluted him. "Dusk is not here to harm master! Dusk is here to serve master!" Having said that, the Dusk stepped away from Demyx so it could continue to watch him.

Demyx soon got a hold of himself again and let himself down from the supportive arms of his liquid twin. He took a careful seat on the floor and twiddled his thumbs nervously, his water clone following suit. Eventually Demyx worked up the courage to talk to the Dusk. "Why did you call 'Melodious Nocturne'?" The Dusk wiggled thoughtfully where it stood and spoke as if the answer was obvious, "That is the name of Number IX as said by the Proof of Existence!"

"Oh." Demyx looked down at his hands, and placed them on the floor as if the sight of them suddenly disgusted him. "But, why call me that? Even if it does sound kinda cool..." The second part he muttered to the ground as he traced circles in the floor with his finger. The nearby water clone made jagged swirls on the floor as it tried to copy Demyx.

Once more the Dusk answered without hesitation, "Melodious Nocturne is the title Proof of Existence gave your fragment!" Demyx remained silent. After a length of time had passed, the blond let out a deep sigh. Curious and wanting to appease its master, the Dusk tip-toed to Demyx, "Is Melodious Nocturne displeased over something?"

"Huh? Oh nothing. It's just that...I really wish I could hear what this sounded-" A fountain of water sprang up from the ground and smacked Demyx upside his unsuspecting face. "-like..." He hesitantly finished the sentence and began to rub at his chin to soothe the pain away. He continued to massage his jaw as the water danced in the air to form a more solid shape. He openly gawked at the white and blue instrument that materialized itself before him.

The Dusk stared at the guitarlike object. Demyx tapped his fingers together and internally debated if it was safe for him to touch it. Having gained enough confidence in himself, he reached over and plucked one of its strings. He stared at warily as if he expected it to horribly explode when the note stopped resonating in his room.

Silence ran through the air. He tenderly picked the instrument up and set it down in his lap. Content with the establishment that it was not some nasty trick, Demyx strummed the strings and hummed to himself. The neglected water double sat to the side and watched Demyx patiently. Now feeling envious for the instrument, the clone attempted to conjure up its own.

"Even though Melodious Nocturne has awakened, Superior does not need to see Melodious Nocturne. Master is free to do as he pleases until further notice!" The Dusk bowed shakily and disappeared in a sprawl of white thorns.

Demyx ignored the departure of the Dusk and continued to play on the instrument. "It's called a sitar, an instrument that originated in a land that rarely got any rain. Man...talk about irony." The water copy looked up from its attempts to form its own sitar and blinked dumbly at Demyx.

"Dunno how long it's gonna take to really get to know how to play this thing-" Demyx brushed his fingertips over the strings, "-but it'll be fun." He smiled affectionately at the sitar and began to experiment with the sounds it could produce.

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I hate symbolism, it avoids the point. I hate people who try to make me into their puppet, it undermines my worth. I hate flowers, it feels like I'm choking on a bad dream. I hate my element and weapon, it seems so much like a contradiction. I hate liking my power, it reminds me of what my symbol is.

A gloved hand clenched around the doorknob even tighter as he tried to break the lock with the handle. So far it hadn't worked. Marluxia had a feeling it wouldn't be working anytime soon either. He bitterly shoved the notion aside as he stiffened his grip again; he wasn't about to let a simple door stop him.

Marluxia gave the knob a violent twist before hesitantly releasing his grasp on it. Reluctantly he strolled back to his chair and sat down. Marluxia slouched heavily down on the desk and tried to think of new ways to break down the annoying door. It didn't help that his room now smelled like an oversized and over-pollinated flower shop. If the door didn't drive him insane the damn smell would.

Taking in a sharp breath, he began banging his forehead futilely against the table. "Come on-! Think of something!' He hissed. Seeing as the self-inflicted pain was not helping, he stopped and turned his sight back to the door. Seeing the book on the desk reminded him of the reason why he was probably locked in. He swatted at it and it was flung to the floor. Gradually he sat back up. "...This might work."

The brunette stood in front of the door and was holding his white chair like a club at the knob. Giving the door a smug look, he pulled back the chair for a swing.

"Graceful Assassin shouldn't do that, he might hurt himself." Marluxia ignored the strange voice, Graceful Assassin?, it probably wasn't talking to him then. With a grunt he swung the chair into the door only to be thrown back by the ricochet of metal against stronger metal. Marluxia shook his head to get the ringing in his ears to stop. Glancing down to the chair still in his hands he realized all he managed to dent was the before mentioned piece of furniture.

A flower petal floated down in the air and he followed it bemusedly with his eyes. The lone petal came to rest on the floor and Marluxia let the failure of a chair fall to the floor with a clank. With a thin scowl he bent down to pick up the petal and examine it.

There was nothing extraordinary about it, it was just a pink flower petal after all. But what was it doing in a place like...wherever the castle was supposed to be? Whatever he thought at the moment was now overridden by strange hate, frowning down at the petal, he crushed it between his fingers. Something he couldn't quite place a reason on made him resent that little piece of a bloom. "Graceful Assassin is not pleased with his Power over Nature?"

The outlandish voice from earlier was speaking again. It was beginning to irk Marluxia that it seemed to think he was a 'Graceful Assassin'; if he was going to assassinate anyone he wanted it to be as splattered as possible, none of this graceful death drivel.

He scoffed irritably and let the crushed petal fall down. Much to his dismay, more petals began to fall out of seemingly nowhere. Peeved by the drizzle of petals he brushed them off himself. The abundant flowers were bothersome but too numerous to really be dealt with. Forfeiting the battle against the shower of pink, he retook up the chair to strike at the door again. When he tried to swing it this time though, something was holding it back.

Marluxia craned his head to the side and saw a flimsy looking creature in white holding the chair back. "What can Dusk do to please master?" The brunette began to think of how ridiculous the situation was growing with each passing second. "Heh, think you can break down that door? I just can't seem to do it by my weak little self." There was sarcasm dripping off his words, but it was overlooked by the Dusk.

"Graceful Assassin can try using his weapon. Weapon is very powerful."The Dusk happily bounced where it stood and clapped its padded hands together in anticipation. Feeling cynical and bored, Marluxia decided trying to summon his so-called weapon at least once wouldn't hurt anything. Just as long as it killed some time...

Raising a hand in front of him he tried to half-beckon a weapon forth, he felt a bit foolish and lost. What was he supposed to do? What was his weapon anyway? There were so many different kinds. Knives, swords, clubs, even bare fists; the list could go on. Looking for a specific type of needle in a pile of needles, brilliant. Marluxia had no idea how long or short he was standing there with his arm out, but nothing happened except that more petals were continuing to fall down.

The non-voice of the Dusk was heard again. "Master must use his element! Weapon is tied to element! Use the petals master!" Marluxia dropped his arm quickly and rolled his eyes. So his element was flowers now? What kind of weapon could come out of flowers? Those weak little things that were supposed to mean something so pathetically sentimental on certain holidays? It had to be a joke.

The brunette angrily plucked a falling petal out of the air and brandished it at the Dusk. "So let me get this straight; I'm supposed to be able to pull a weapon out of this thing?" The Dusk earnestly nodded its faceless head. The audacity of some things. "Right, something I can crush so easily is supposed to be powerful?" Marluxia clenched his hand tightly around the petal to prove his point.

A strange well of gravity seemed to form within the hand that he crushed the petal in. Particles of white began to swirl violently around it. By the time what he felt was pulling at his hand was gone, so were the petals that had piled onto his floor. The petal in his hand had disappeared as well; all that remained in its place was a scythe.

He looked at it skeptically then disdainfully. It was a nice, threatening scythe...but it was a horrible pink color. In fact now that he looked it, the scythe appeared to have had its design based off a rather sharp flower.

"Why flowers?" He didn't ask it to anyone in particular, but he was at a loss in terms of a possible reason.

"Dusk is sorry, Superior is calling..." The words were quickly spoken and the Dusk had departed in a speed similar. Marluxia was left standing alone in the room. The more he looked over the scythe the more it really did look like a flower. "What do flowers have to do with me..." His words trailed off as his eyes traveled up the stem-green handle and to the curved pink petal blade at the top. Testing its weight he lifted it up with little effort. Apparently it was lighter then it looked, but sharper then it seemed based on how it cut so easily through the air.

Blue eyes looked up, a pleased smirk began to emerge. That thing did say that the weapon could break down the door. Time to test that theory...

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It seems to have come full circle again. Why darkness, and why me? I'd like to study the matter further, but how? The conditions are different. It's like trying to put together a puzzle, but I don't know what the original looked like. Ah well, it doesn't matter in the long run. Just as long as my puzzle will look like the masterpiece it is supposed to be in the end...

All he could hear was the sound of his feet on the floor. He didn't know how long he had been walking, but it felt like hours since he'd pried himself out of bed. The second he'd opened his eyes, he couldn't see anything except a blanket of the brightest void he'd ever known. It was bizarre, he felt and knew that his eyes were open, but all he could see was that silent veil of white, it almost hurt to see it like that.

Zexion rubbed his face with the palm of his hand, but the white in his vision was still there. Suddenly, something began to itch quite literally in the back of his eyes. Pressing his palm deeper was all he could do, but the sensation persisted despite his best efforts.

His ears were beginning to ring as well. It felt like the screeching silence was trying to rip off the sides of his face. Zexion bit his bottom lip and realized he could suddenly taste something that hadn't been there before. Something familiar, coppery yet sickeningly acidic and sharp. A new smell seemed to emerge from seemingly out of nowhere. It seemed to pair well with the taste lingering on his tongue.

The blue haired boy had no idea why he felt all of those sensations; they all seemed to hurt so much. Almost like he was being introduced to his senses for the first time. He grappled his skull; it was beginning to feel like it was on fire.

"Dusk is sorry that Cloaked Schemer is suffering." Zexion gritted his teeth together at how loud the unknown voice was.

"Dusks made terrible mistake...master's place in Proof of Existence has been damaged. Dusks are truly sorry." He could feel the presence of the voice's source, and thought he could sense it bowing in some way. "What is? Why is this happening?" Zexion flinched at the painful volume his own voice was.

He could feel the body the voice belonged to hesitate. "Dusks still remembered, so Dusks were worried over master's Power over Darkness." The blue haired boy froze amidst his senses' ailing. Power over Darkness. How familiar.

Like a light switch, everything suddenly poured into familiarity. The white was sucked away and Zexion was met with the sight of his room once again. He felt shaky on his feet with the surge of normalcy. "Superior would like to speak with you now that master has awakened."

Zexion looked owlishly at the writhing form of the Dusk, then to the strange gravity that he felt growing in front of him. Seconds later a portal of moving black formed itself. The pieces began to slowly fall into place.

Having 'power over darkness' meant being in tune with everything that entailed the darkness; that included the 'emotions' brought about by it. He briefly recalled that 'flavor' was in his mouth earlier. "So that's what fear tastes like..."

The Dusk touched his arm and Zexion's attention was snapped back to the gate swirling in front of him. The blue haired boy stepped into the portal obediently; this 'Superior' probably had all the answers.

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Six aspects. A round number of representation, what does it all mean? Intuition; the perception and thoughts of events. Self-expression; keeping 'true' to speech, both internal and external. Devotion; loyalty and connection. Power; to be able to be in control and be ambitious. Emotion; I suppose it is not really there, but the memories and reactions are... Instinct; self-preservation and security. It will take concentration to keep them all in balance. Or am I looking into the matter too far? ...I feel as though I am neglecting an aspect, which one could it be?

Xaldin was now sitting cross-legged on the floor. With the door locked indefinitely, he had nothing productive to do but meditate. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and steady, and time was crawling by.

Now that the state of his mind had been stabilized, he cracked open his eyes. The six lances that had been whirling around him earlier had stopped and were now only bobbing harmlessly up and down in the air. Xaldin slowly got to his feet and reached out a cautious hand to the nearest floating spear. When he had first woken up and tried the door, he had let frustration get the better of him; those spears had appeared suddenly when he lost his patience.

With a hand fully wrapped around the length of the spear, the other five closed in, but Xaldin did not flinch. He sensed a strange and almost aura-like feeling that those weapons would do him no harm. With his free hand he grabbed another of the nearby spears. Something about them was sentimental. The darker part of his mind rumbled about recalling the past.

A puffing sound brought the brunette out of his thoughts. His gaze immediately landed on a wriggling and boneless creature. The spears that were not in his hand quickly darted over and surrounded the creature. Each of the points only mere inches from piercing its pale skin. Xaldin squinted his eyes skeptically at the foreign presence.

The creature continued to wriggle idly, any and all fear devoid from its behavior. One of the lances seemed to instinctively draw its sharp tip closer to the creature but flinched back as the white unknown spoke, "Dusk is happy Whirlwind Lancer was able to find his weapon...did master discover his Power over Wind as well?"

Xaldin edged closer despite how the dark part of his mind hissed against such actions. "You did this?"

The Dusk continued to bob in place like a bottle in the ocean. "Superior wanted Dusks to do so...Superior wants to talk to master now." A fountain of darkness sprouted next to the Dusk.

Wordlessly, Xaldin dismissed his lances and stepped into it. There was something about what was possibly at the other end of that tunnel that seemed to make him trust it. Even the dark part in the back of his mind had faith in what waited at the end.

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All of these thoughts lately about doors. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised that the solution is a key. It's kind of funny, like a bad pun Axel would probably say when he saw it...he really is the only one left to rely on, isn't he?

Blue eyes blinked innocently up from his wringing hands. He'd woken up earlier then usual, the silhouette in his dreams had done something so terrifying yet...tragic. The person had apologized for something; Roxas still didn't understand the exact details, but it felt like he should have been mourning for that person. Even though the previous day he'd sworn that person was an enemy that needed to be destroyed.

But at that moment, he felt more at a loss for himself. With the departure of that person, he felt like there was nothing to really anchor him to anything. Another thing that dampened the mood of the 'new' day was how the door was inexplicably locked. Apparently higher powers wouldn't even allow for him to at least try and forget about it by playing yet another pointless game with Axel. The chatty redhead was all Roxas had to lean on in terms of a 'friend' now.

Roxas stopped running his hands over each other. The resolution he'd made from the previous day still stood. 'Live life better, and more positively.' He gave the door a defiant look. "I won't let you stop me."

A strong wind brushed past him and it forced him to shut his eyes. It felt like something had been placed into his hands and lap. He opened his eyes, in his hands laid, quite literally, a gigantic key. Roxas stared at the key quizzically and lifted it up in the air. Maybe he was going crazy.

He made his way to the door and looked from the keyless knob back to the humongous key in his hand. Cynically he raised the key up to the door and a keyhole shone from it. Roxas heard a loud unlocking sound. The door creaked open and a strange smile crawled onto his face.

Maybe losing his mind was a good thing.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Part 1 of 2, its just...too long and repetitive to all be mashed up into one chapter. I think you can assume what is narrative and what is 'written' in their books. I am somewhat proud with how these 'turned out', or is that just me and how late it was when these were typed? Hope nothing seems too off, like characterization... Kudos to whoever can figure out the origin of the six aspects Xaldin was prattling about. A cookie to whoever can guess the identity of the 'shadow' Roxas talks about (I tried to make it a little obvious, but not too much). As a side note, sorry for taking so long to put out this chapter...and even moreso that it is not a complete chapter.