Shifting on his throne, Xehanort sighed. He was old. He was old, and he had lived more than many, seen more than many. He was old, and he had no regret, were he to fade away today.
It all had started as all good story starts, on an island. He was the son of a fisherman - on the island, everyone was. He had been promised for a plain, safe but uninteresting life as a fisherman himself - on island, that's what everyone would become eventually. But he wasn't everyone. He was a dreamer. He would look at the sky when everyone looked at the sea, he and he dreamt of catching stars rather than fish. They built ships, he built ladders. They spoke of tides, he spoke of space. This world was just too small for him. And then, one day, he found the way to throw it all away, and he did without a single glance back. Not having a second thought for his parents, for his friend, for anything he loved, because his desire to discover more was bigger than any of that. Did he regret that now? He didn't know. Not once did he try to know what happened to all of them. It was too late for that.
Gone was the islander, son of fisherman. He was now an apprentice, a keyblade wielder, training to become a keyblade master. He had cast away his family for a new one, a brother not of blood but of heart. They studied together, practised together, they knew everything about each other. Everything was perfect. Until the world became once again too small. The Master talked about Light, he thought about Darkness. The Master said the world had no use for shadows, he countered that wasn't balance. Eraqus would always win their games, he would bend the rules. There was more to the world than the Master said. More than the books said. He knew it. And when he met a man dressed in black, who offered him a taste of Darkness and the power that came with it, he knew this would be his next destination. And he threw all that he loved away, once again. He wasn't made for staying in one place for too long. He was no fisherman. He needed no anchor.
He even had tried being a Master, once. A terrible, yet necessary experience. He wouldn't say he had enjoyed teaching Ventus, or Vanitas. It had been a way to work towards his grand plan, but it had forced him to lay low for too long. To stay hidden, working in the shadows. This world wasn't just too small, it was too rotten, too broken to be fixed. He knew there was only one way to restore things, to bring back the balance he was looking for. It was easy to understand, really. All just had to be reset. And so here he was now, no more an islander nor an apprentice, no longer a child or a boy, but an old man, a puppeteer, sitting on his throne, watching the work of his life unfold before his eyes. Seven pawns of Light, Thirteen of Darkness. Decades of planning, scheming, orchestrating, and it was now time for him to find out if all these sacrifices, all these families he left behind had paid off. His own brother believed in a world made of Light ; it was time for him to prove that no light could exist without its share of darkness. When one came, the other followed right away. Eraqus had been the Light, and Xehanort had been more than willing to be his Darkness. And, thanks to all his hard work, Xehanort knew now that even if something went wrong, Darkness would not expire anytime soon. Even though he would.
Today was an insight of Granpa Xehanort's life! While I'm not too fond of his sudden redemption-ish at the end of the game, at least he is gone now *stares at shonen mangas where villains always come back as allies later on*
Twenty second theme will be 'To Belong'!