Hey there. Thank you for giving this a read. *bow*

This is the first time I am writing a story so I hope I was somewhat able (or rather 'will have been able') to get my thoughts across in this text and that it is somewhat entertaining. Any review is of course appreciated.

The general idea is that in KH3 I was intrigued by the transformation of Luxu into Xigbar and wanted to write a story that would make some sense of his change in character. (I now finally started, because I simply had too much time and no internet the last week, so I wrote the first two chapters and lots of scribbles on my phone.) At first the story might still follow some more basic Disney-themes but the more weathered Luxu becomes in his odyssey, the more mature the themes would become. Another thing would be, that I assume that there is a looong time between the story of union cross and birth by sleep. Many generations in fact.

Also, I have internet again - obviously. And I have much stuff to do, so I can only hope to find time for this, as I was getting more absorbed in writing as I thought I would. It's quite fun. :)

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in the Kingdom Hearts franchise and am not making any money with this. It's purely written for my and your entertainment.

Prologue - The Night of the Storm:

It is an extremely dark night right now. That fact by itself is nothing special in these parts of the land. After all the woods are so thick that almost no light will shine through the branches from the sky. There are two unsettling things, however.

The first is the unnatural silence that would normally be impossible in a forest like this. Even if one doesn't notice, there is always something to be heard. At least there should be. One could come to believe, he or she is simply looking at a painting if it wasn't for a rather foul smell in the air and a small fire that is flickering on the ground.

The other thing that one just can't – or shouldn't – wrap their mind around, is that the light of the fire didn't reach the surrounding stones as it normally would. It appears [SL1] as though it is swallowed by a thick fog, although no such thing could be seen around the fire. Still, because everything else can be seen relatively clear, something has to be there, for the phenomenon to make sense. And it has to make sense, or else the mind will have to come up with another reasoning. One, that isn't quite as harmless than the one before it. One, that could mean the death of the person sitting in front of the fire.

That somewhat frail looking person sits with his arms wrapped around his knees, trying to make itself [SL2] as small as possible. The person wears a thick-looking, black coat that conceals its whole body, but it doesn't wear it to keep himself warm but for hiding it's heart and - in this case much more important – it's thoughts.

But even the coat can't completely fend off the curse that has struck this land. In this night it seems to grow stronger by the minute. The air seems to become heavier, as if it wants to choke anyone who tries breathing it. The ground seems to become muddy, as if it wants to swallow all that walks on top of it and imprison it inside, in an eternal grave. The stones look as though they are coming loose and can come crashing down any minute. And branches seem to creep closer from all sides whenever one isn't alert enough. It seems, as if the trees are trying to grab whoever is in their reach and pull them underground with all their might. But the person in front of the fire adamantly refuses to think about these things and restrains its imagination as if its life depends on it. That is, because the person knows for a fact that it does.

It tries to concentrate on the fire instead and that way keep its thoughts in check, although something in the back of its mind continuously rekindles its imagination, and that means the person doesn't have a single moment to let its guard down. If one looks closely, one can indeed make out some unnatural movement in the fire, as if a creature inside it is slowly starting to wake up.

"It's just like Master said. It's as if monsters lie in every imaginable corner of my perception... Or my mind."

The person starts speaking with a rather young and boyish voice. He tries to break the heavy silence surrounding him and for a moment the "fog" around the fire seems to dissipate. But it is immediately re-engulfed in another, even thicker wave. It seems as if there is an endless stream of darkness quelling forth from the space around the fire itself. Seeing this, the man is glad that the coat shields him from most of the curse and he pulls its hood even further down.

Luckily, he knows what is happening, as he has been instructed about what is to come by his master. Otherwise he most likely would have already lost himself in his imagination long ago. This land, like uncountable others, has been "cursed" after a bitter war. The curse seeped into all the mountains, rivers and skies alike with no save place in between, and it sometimes erupts in storms like this one. It is the first time he is caught in the middle of it, but it is definitely not going to be the last. He won't let his travels end like this. Not, when they haven't even started yet.

The master told him that he has trained enough to fend it off, and so he tries to hold on to that thought - that faith he has in his master – so he won't doom himself with uncertainty. After all, uncertainty is just another seed of ideas – and he really doesn't need any more of those right now.

And as his master has taught him, he goes through the tasks he has been given one after another. So as to leave no space for imagination, everything need to have a strict order to it. After he finishes, he continues to list the shapes the Curse would often take - or the species of Darkness, as they are called once given form. After that, he recites in his mind the master's prophecies word for word. Of those he wished, that the master had told him more, but he cuts off the thought halfway and goes on to the next list. He continues with useful plants, important places - if they eve still exist - and all other information he can use for his future travels. He does so at a very slow pace so he won't exhaust himself and fall asleep. But at the same time, he has to be careful that his thoughts won't drift away while he is in his trance and strictly keep to his lists.

He repeats this process a few times until he feels like the storm is slowly letting up. Then, suddenly the remaining curse becomes restless. The "fog" starts to gather towards the fire, as if trying to extinguish it as its last deed. But the man knows that they are drawn towards the thoughts that he has concentrated inside the flames during the storm. Now, that the darkness feels its own weakness, it has stopped looking for the source of the thought, that it luckily hasn't been able to find and starts looking for any host at all that can contain them, and the flames are the best fit.

So, instead of extinguishing it, the darkness seeps right into the fire and the creature that has been only a rough shape before, can now be seen more and more clearly. Then it finally starts to transform.

At first the flames get slower until they come to a complete standstill. The ash at the bottom of the fire start to rise, as to becomes the pot that contained the fire. Two big sparks light up inside the flames and instead of flying away like the others, they stay inside and become the creature's eyes. And at last, a horizontal rift begins to form in the time-frozen fire and becomes the creature's mouth, which is already in the shape of a menacing smile. Right when it starts to float, the sparks also start to look into the man's eyes.

As soon as it sees him it starts glowing and flickering, wildly signalling that it just can't wait to burn him to ashes and to make his heart its own. But its glee is short-lived as in that moment, the man swiftly stands up, puts out his hand and whisperes

"Freeze!"

With these words the fireplace is illuminated once again. This time it's not by a fire but by runes that were written in a circle around it that glow in a bright snow-white. The runes are not the most refined type. They seem as if they have been written hastily, by someone who has had no time to spare for things like proper alignment. But that doesn't matter to the man. As long as they do what they were supposed to do, he won't even think of complaining.

Starting from the place that is closest to the palm, the time-frozen flame quickly turns blue and becomes actually frozen. On the creatures face now lies a shocked expression, in disbelief over what has just happened. Finally, as if gravitation has been turned back on, it falls back on the ground as a block of ice, where it bursts into a million pieces.

Although the man's movement have seemed light before, his hand is shaking now, and he is out of breath.

"As if I'd let you...!"

He wheezes and after waiting for a few moments he continues to whisper to himself.

"All this preparation and time for a single Monster... If I had known, that I need to do things quietly like this, I would have prepared myself and started training much earlier."

The man sits back down in order to catch his breath.

"...Well, I'll consider myself lucky, that I found such a quiet place in time before it started... No telling if I could have gotten myself out of this, if there had been any disturbances."

With his words he is finally able to shake off the remaining fears he feels in his heart for his make-shift camp and can somewhat calmly close his eyes and lean on a tree for a little rest. But he has to keep his mind awake nonetheless, so he won't accidentally get trapped in another fog.

The cursed mist in his immediate surroundings has been gathered in the bundle of flames. Now, that the flames are slowly melting before his feet, he can relax just a bit. But that is just a special case in the whole area and the rest of his path. For the storm to clear up completely he has to wait a while longer.

In order to not break the silence any more than he already has, the man closes his eyes and quietly thought to himself.

*Now I just have to be careful not to attract the remaining curse, otherwise all my work would have been for nothing... But how do you check if something is still there if you can't look for it? After all I don't want it to notice me.*

He ponders about it, but can't find a good answer. In the end he simply shrugs and sits down.

*Well I better just keep sitting for a while. That has to be enough for now.*

Unfortunately, the cloak helps only a little, if the person wearing it is moving around, and once darkness notices you, it gets clingy, making it almost impossible to remove it quietly.

Sometime later he opens his eyes again and notices a small ray of light coming from above shining a few feet away from him.

"Looks as if the moon is out again, time to get out of this place as long as the air is clear."

This time he stands up, ready to walk again and after a big yawn and stretching his arms and legs he starts moving. Sleeping is unfortunately not an option for him yet, because this land is now far too dangerous, and he has to get away as fast as possible.

As there is no real path to or from his hiding spot he has to climb over a few rocks, roots, branches and trees in order to get up a hill. Before the storm, he has looked for a place to hide in a hurry, so he doesn't remember the exact path he took. Because of that, he stops at the top of the hill to scan the area.

The wood has already ended shortly before, so he has a wide view in front of him. After finding what he is looking for, he continues towards the path he has been on before. And thus, he walked on. And he will keep on walking for a while longer until he finally has [SL3] his first prophesized encounter.

But first he has to find a place to sleep for the night - or whatever amount of time is left before the sun comes up. Unfortunately, instead of finding what he is looking for, he is presented with different scene.

He has just climbed the top of a somewhat bigger hill, when he abruptly stops and stares.

"Master, was there really no other way? Is there nothing I can do to help? No one should go through something like this! This war can't have been this important! Now all the lands are cursed, and innocent people will suffer for it... And the land I had considered home... is now out of my reach forever."

He clenches his fists as he shouts into the air, and not for a moment does he averts is gaze from what he sees. After all he feels it is important that he burns the scene before him into his mind.

The man knows, that thanks to his cloak and training he is able to get through the Storm unscathed. But other beings, of whatever race or form, are less fortunate than him. And when the fog comes, they will run in blind fear. But the Cursed Mists are contained within the land itself and so there is nowhere to run and being caught is their certain fate. After being caught the Mists will cause an almost hypnotic effect and will induce many visions and ideas that spring from one's own deepest nightmares. It amplifies one's greatest fears. Then through these visions the Mist takes form and changes the reality around it. The nightmares will definitely become reality, if there are enough Mists and unfortunately the supply during a Storm is almost unlimited. The consequences are as clear as they are terrible.

In front of the man is - or rather was - a great plane through which a broad river flows. Beside that river are a few roads that lead to the center of the plane. But where probably should have been a town, is now only pitch-black nothingness present. It's been replaced by a cloud of black mist that seems to be still expanding and pulsates as if it is alive. Even from this distance the man shivers and pulls his hood further down.

The wind that is coming from the cloud carries a foul smell of sweat and dirt, and the sound it makes is as if it contains the echoes of screams that are coming from deep inside the fog. The people inside must have thought that the whole plane has turned into a place of horror. And the Mists have made it true.

Now the fate of the town is sealed. It will fall into darkness and will no longer be part of this realm. The townspeople themselves have likely already become hosts for the darkness and if not, they will be. Nothing can save them now. Even a disciple of the great master of masters can do nothing more than just idly stand there.

With nothing else to do than just staring, the man unwillingly turns around and walks on. It is only a few steps later that he notices his fists are still clenched. So, without stopping he takes a deep breath and relaxes his arms.

"As if I would let my mood be spoiled by this. The path is long and there are many people to be met and many adventures to be had!"

But even as he is saying this, he'd rather wanted to just sit down and cry. Because he was sure, no matter how long his journey will take him, he will never be able to see these lands or its people again. It is not the time, however. He has to run, so he himself won't be caught by the mists. He can only hope that there is still any save place left that he can reach.

And as he keeps walking, the man repeates the first of masters Prophecies in his head over and over:

"When the first step has been taken

and all around the mists awaken,

a swift step you need

to fulfil your first deed.

Your path grows steeper,

the pain grows deeper.

Still, your path always takes you up

and only above the clouds may you stop.

There, at the end of the road,

salvation will wait in thunders abode."