A forest. I like this place, this part of the world. I have just
arrived here, and I can feel at home here. It is dusk, slowly turning to
night. The ancient trees shelter the faint light that reaches past their
leaves, and I stride amongst them, content to wander.
I will find what I search for, I always have.
Night. I ignite a torch, and look around me for signs of life. There are none, and this worries me. In all the places I have been, there is always some sign of the living. Not here. No signs of any friends to make, or any enemies.
I miss them.
In all the places I have been, I have made friends, and enemies. I am proud. They make me stronger, and they are in turn stronger for meeting myself. A cycle I am glad to partake in. And their absence here is something that I fear.
And my fears are made manifest.
Drawn to my heart, they come. Shadows growing from shadows. Organic in shape, grey in colour. They are the Heartless, empowered by some force I do not know. They are stronger than their cousins a generation ago; these Neo-Shadows.
They pause for a moment, and I take it to extinguish my torch. In this battle the sight of the eyes is of no use, My heart will guide my blade. One leaps at me, claws ready to rip my spirit. In response, my heart grows light, surging with a barely contained power. It comes, and I end its existence with a single stroke of my weapon.
My Keyblade.
It sings of power, and the Heartless falter at its presence. They are like the moths, and I am the flame. And now they come in force. My eyes see theirs, pale yellow, no emotion, just emptiness. My heart seeks the absence of theirs. Every stroke, another Heartless is sent back to where they came from.
But there are so many.
I strike one, and it explodes in dark vapor. But another strikes me from behind. Its claws rip into my soul, trying to steal my heart. I resist, my heart is mine, not theirs for the taking. The attack leaves deep cuts in my body, and in anger, I rip it asunder.
I hate.
My Keyblade flashes with all the speed I can muster, spinning, slashing, thrusting, and parrying. I give far greater than I take, my heart guiding this burden I carry. I did not ask for this, to be drawn into this conflict. Yet here I am, fighting because I must. My survival depends upon it. The Keyblade is my protector, as I protect it..
There are so many.
No matter how many I destroy, they return, they do because it is their nature. I open my eyes, and I see Heartless without end. I cannot destroy them all with the power I now wield, so I reach for the higher powers that guard me. And they respond with the light that shines.
Holy.
The word, the light, the power. It explodes around me, a shell of pure, radiant light. One that reaches from the depths of my transformed heart into the darkness that surrounds me. They are blasted, annihilated by the powers awoken in me by an angel. And they are no more.
I slump to the ground, exhausted by the release. I hold myself up by the comforting measure of the Keyblade. But with its enemies gone, it retreats into my heart, to slumber until needed again. I recover the torch, and ignite it again.
Darkness.
That is all that there is around me. I know this. But I not fear the darkness. I have a reason. In my travels, I have heard their names scattered across the worlds. Others who bear my burden. Knowledge, and responsibility. A Keyblade.
I lift my head, and laugh. For in laughing, I show my opinion of all that has come before, and of all that shall come. I laugh, and to the question that the darkness asks, unsure of my meaning, I speak aloud my answer.
"I am not alone."
I will find what I search for, I always have.
Night. I ignite a torch, and look around me for signs of life. There are none, and this worries me. In all the places I have been, there is always some sign of the living. Not here. No signs of any friends to make, or any enemies.
I miss them.
In all the places I have been, I have made friends, and enemies. I am proud. They make me stronger, and they are in turn stronger for meeting myself. A cycle I am glad to partake in. And their absence here is something that I fear.
And my fears are made manifest.
Drawn to my heart, they come. Shadows growing from shadows. Organic in shape, grey in colour. They are the Heartless, empowered by some force I do not know. They are stronger than their cousins a generation ago; these Neo-Shadows.
They pause for a moment, and I take it to extinguish my torch. In this battle the sight of the eyes is of no use, My heart will guide my blade. One leaps at me, claws ready to rip my spirit. In response, my heart grows light, surging with a barely contained power. It comes, and I end its existence with a single stroke of my weapon.
My Keyblade.
It sings of power, and the Heartless falter at its presence. They are like the moths, and I am the flame. And now they come in force. My eyes see theirs, pale yellow, no emotion, just emptiness. My heart seeks the absence of theirs. Every stroke, another Heartless is sent back to where they came from.
But there are so many.
I strike one, and it explodes in dark vapor. But another strikes me from behind. Its claws rip into my soul, trying to steal my heart. I resist, my heart is mine, not theirs for the taking. The attack leaves deep cuts in my body, and in anger, I rip it asunder.
I hate.
My Keyblade flashes with all the speed I can muster, spinning, slashing, thrusting, and parrying. I give far greater than I take, my heart guiding this burden I carry. I did not ask for this, to be drawn into this conflict. Yet here I am, fighting because I must. My survival depends upon it. The Keyblade is my protector, as I protect it..
There are so many.
No matter how many I destroy, they return, they do because it is their nature. I open my eyes, and I see Heartless without end. I cannot destroy them all with the power I now wield, so I reach for the higher powers that guard me. And they respond with the light that shines.
Holy.
The word, the light, the power. It explodes around me, a shell of pure, radiant light. One that reaches from the depths of my transformed heart into the darkness that surrounds me. They are blasted, annihilated by the powers awoken in me by an angel. And they are no more.
I slump to the ground, exhausted by the release. I hold myself up by the comforting measure of the Keyblade. But with its enemies gone, it retreats into my heart, to slumber until needed again. I recover the torch, and ignite it again.
Darkness.
That is all that there is around me. I know this. But I not fear the darkness. I have a reason. In my travels, I have heard their names scattered across the worlds. Others who bear my burden. Knowledge, and responsibility. A Keyblade.
I lift my head, and laugh. For in laughing, I show my opinion of all that has come before, and of all that shall come. I laugh, and to the question that the darkness asks, unsure of my meaning, I speak aloud my answer.
"I am not alone."