Yay: Windgates are awesome. Too bad you don't see the actual gates in action for quite a while. Anyways, updates in Hollow Bastion, plus on with the next world. I had fun with Orchid's costume. Anyone recognize the mask? coughcoughJingcoughcough Anyways, sorry to keep gusy so long, but then, I guess I won't be updating at my breakneck pace anymore. I got FFTA and FF1 to work on, plus school, so... shrug Anyways, read and review!
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"So, you've returned with the princess?"
"Yes," said Eriks. "The Heartless are bringing her up right now."
"Very good," murmured Elias. "No problems then?"
"Nothing I couldn't handle."
Elias's mouth turned slightly at the corner, in what could possibly be a smile. His apprentice was coming along very well. Already they had five of the Princesses of Heart. Soon they would have all that was needed to open the door.
"You may go now, Eriks," he said calmly. Then he paused and turned, speaking just as the boy was about to leave. "Oh, and Stromwind said he wanted to see you. About the Windgates and Heartless."
"The old bear wants to talk with me? That's a first."
He turned back to contemplating the rain outside the stained glass window as the door closed behind him, clicking loudly in the cold, still air of the Hollow Bastion. They still needed more power, though. The Keyblade Master, the Flower of Arcadia, was becoming a real threat to their efforts. She had already sealed some of the key worlds. It was then that he decided.
He walked swiftly down the long and empty halls, until he reached the laboratory. There, several assistants worked. These were Heartless, bound to Elias's will by clockwork that Vins had created. They stood tall and thin, garbed in simple white robes, though their long mechanical arms were bare, pulsing darkly with the essence of the Heartless. They were precise, efficient, and mindless. Perfect for monitering the subjects and performing the regular scans and tasks.
"Any progress?" he asked quietly, walking up to the head assistant, differentiated from the others merely by a black cross on the back of its robe and a strange mechanism built under its glowing yellow eyes, where its mouth would be if it had one. "Has there been any change in the subjects?"
The Heartless tilted its head, as if considering, then straightened again. A thin, mechanical voice uttered from the machine on its face.
"The Master's will continues to weigh down on them," it rasped. "The Lionhearted is still strong, but he will break. The boy is already beginning to crumble." It paused. "We fear the conflicting inputs may tear the subject for the Grey One apart. Our calculations and reports show it unlikely that he shall be satisfactory to our cause."
"Do not worry," assured Elias, half-shown face placid. "He is stronger than you think."
-
"So, what do you want, old bear?"
"Well, runt," growled Stromwind, not even opening his eyes as Eriks walked in and sat down across from him. "I though it was time to educate you in magic."
Stromwind was a big man, and his wild, dirty blonde hair spiked nearly straight back. His rough, blockish face had a sparse beard. He wore a tunic and leather pants, and also a bearskin cloak, complete with clawed arms which hung over his shoulders and down his chest. He almost always carried a gnarled, wooden stick, part staff, part mace; it lay next to him now.
They sat in a room that Stromwind had taken over when they had arrived in Hollow Bastion. It was circular in nature, and was now furnished with only a low table and a mat for sleeping on. Most of the floor was taken up by a large complex design inscribed on the floor, a magic circle that the druid now meditated on the edge of. Eriks sat opposite of him, outside of the circle. Multitudes of candles burned in the room, illuminating their faces with flickering light, casting about wild and dancing shadows. Stromwind cast no such shadows.
"Why?" asked Eriks impudently, shifting a little as he got comfortable and lay Excalibur down in front of him.
"Because," started the big man, opening his eyes and crossing his arms. "That will not save you against all foes."
He nodded his head in the sword's direction.
"Like the Keyblade Master?" asked Eriks. By careful circumlocution and vague descriptions, Elias and the Shadowless had prevented Eriks from realizing that the Flower of Arcadia and the Keyblade Master were one and the same, an effort that had almost been overthrown by the overactive mouth of Gali several times in the past. As it stood, Eriks only knew that the Keyblade Master was powerful, and was set to stop them.
"Yes. Like the Keyblade Master," answered Stromwind in his slow, rumbling voice.
"Makes sense," admitted Eriks, running a hand through his spiky black hair. "So what are you gonna teach me?"
"I intend to instruct you in direction of the Heartless and harnessing the power of the Windgates."
A Heartless shadow came in then, creeping flatly under the door, then springing up, its antenna waving erratically as it snuffled, looking this way and that.
"So I'll be able to control the Heartless?" asked Eriks, eyeing the Shadow as it stared curiously at him.
"To an extent," agreed Stromwind. "Controlling them, such as you are thinking, would take an inordinate amount of will, and would not be worth the effort. You will mainly be able to call and banish them, and send them to scout out areas or attack. Basic and general sorts of things."
He turned to the Heartless.
"First, empty your mind. Then reach back, far back into the deepest, most base place in your a feeling of emptiness, of dark, wanting hunger. Then reach out, and feel for similar response."
Eriks eyes were closed now, his brows knit in concentration.
"I feel a pulse, almost," he said. "From the shadow, I think."
"Yes, that's it," said the druid. "Now, pull it in towards you, gently but steadily, until its hunger and want joins with your own."
"I...I can feel it. Like it's a part of me."
"Good. That's basically all there is to it. The rest is just focusing your will on pulling them towards you, or scattering them. Scouting is just focusing that hunger in a direction, and attacking focusing it on a target. They'll follow your direction. As you get used to it, you'll be able to call them faster and with less effort. But becareful not to call too strongly or mesh too deeply with them."
"I see," said Eriks, letting out a breath as the shadow scurried under the door and out of the room.
"Now, I shall teach you about the Windgates," he said. "There are seven Windgates, each incorperating a basic power." He gestured around the magic circle at seven seperate spheres in the outer ring, each with their own intricate design. "They are Kjellnor, the Burning Wind," he started, pointing to a circle that had a design that alluded to swirling flames, "Korshana, the Freezing Wind," motioning to a symbol of glittering cold wind, "Elementii, the Purging Wind," as he indicated the next sphere, this one with jagged, electric lines, "Barshinae, the Exploding Wind," pointing to a design of erratic bursts and swirls, "Charostor, the Darkness Wind," moving to the next circle, filled with twisting black lines, "and Alavastier, the Light Wind," finally indicating a sphere filled with bright, twisting designs. He sighed and leaned back, crossing his arms again. "I shall teach you how to harness their power, and cast spells. Memorization of these magic circles is key to it."
"So I'll be able to open the Windgates and unleash their power?" asked Eriks eagerly.
"No. Only a master, who has trained many years, may open the Windgates. I shall merely teach you how to tap into the forces behind them."
"Okay, then let's start." He paused. Something wasn't right. Then it hit him. "You only named six Windgates. What's the seventh one? This one."
Eriks pointed across the design to the sphere that sat in the outer ring directly in front of Stromwind. This one had many designs and runes in the border, but the center was completely empty.
"That," rumbled Stromwind. "is the gate that we never open."
A chill swept down Eriks's spine at the seriousness of his tone and the weight of his stare.
"Now, let us begin your education in magic, runt," growled Stromwind.
-
"I will be leaving soon," Elias informed to the head assistant. "You are not to disturb me, unless there are any breakthroughs with the subjects. Then you should contact me immediately."
"Yes, master," grated the cold, metallic voice as the Heartless nodded. It did not ask where he was going, as a person would. It was not a person, after all.
---
"What the heck is that?" shouted Orchid, pointing out the gummi ship's veiw screen. The planet hovering before them was a grinning mess of black and orange, covered in jagged spires and half-crazed shapes.
"That, kupo," said Montblanc, "is Halloweentown. Remember Sora's story?"
"It sounded a lot more fun when he told about it," she said warily, eyeing the bizzare world. "Looks kinda freaky."
"Yeah," agreed Arc. "It doesn't scare me, but there's no way we'll be able to blend in there. And if the Heartless or a Shadowless are already there, attracting attention is the last thing we want to do."
"Well, kupo" started the moogle mage, "it so happens that Donald, Sora's friend, wrote down the disguise spell in the ship's logs. We didn't need the water breathing one, but we sure can use this one, kupo!"
"Ooh, ooh, make me a devil, I always wanted to be one!" said Orchid enthusiastically.
"Kupopo...sorry, but it's completely random. All I know is that it will make us fit in."
"Awww..."
-
"Hahaha, you look ridiculous!"
"Shut up!"
Arc huffed indignantly while Orchid continued to point and laugh. His tinted shades now had a cracked left lense, though this was moot because that eye was covered with a black eye patch. His head was wrapped in a dark red bandana, though the stray lock of hair continued to stay forwards and near his face despite it. His white trenchcoat, once knee-length, was now shredded to less than waist length, and the sleeves shortened raggedly also. It was also looking in need of a wash. He also now sported a scar on his right cheek, and a black bandana wrapped around his right arm where the flesh ended and the mechanics began. His black shirt was belted into his pants, now baggy pantaloons, by a dark crimson sash. The legs of his baggy pants were tucked into the tops of tough, thick leather boots. The only things unchanged where his shield, in his left hand, and his sword Sequence, slung over his shoulder on his back. Slouching about with a harrased look on his face, he looked like a pirate that had seen better days.
"Oh, come on, I think he looks fine, kupo," assured Montblanc. The little moogle now sported fangs, an even whiter complexion, and dark outfit, complete with black cape. A miniature vampire that might have been menacing, had he not been a moogle. "Besides, he only looks as funny as you or me."
Orhcid herself had the most unique costume. Something of a zombie-cat-girl thing with a mask no one knew what to think of. Her sky-blue sweatshirt sleeves had turned black, and the hooded sweatshirt itself had disappeared, while her white tank top had become a black tube top, lined in yellow. Her shorts had become long black pants, though one of them had been torn off just below the knee, and the other sported a hole on one side right near it. Her white and blue sneakers where now yellow and black, though mostly the same. Additionally, she had gained several stitched up scars; there was one exposed by the hole in her pant leg, another on the other leg on her calf, one across the left side of her belly, one going around each arm in different spots, one over her right shoulder, and finally, one around her neck. Her blond hair was almost now almost white, though she sported a pair of black cat ears poking out of it near the top of her head. She also had a black cat tail, which she swished experimentally, poking out of a convenient hole in the back of her pants, and some lines across her cheeks which looked vaguely like whiskers. Last of all, was the mask hanging on her head at a jaunty angle, covering her right eye. It was black and round, except for two pointy ears near the top, had spiral eyes and a grinning face. It looked rather comical, though seemed to fit with her outfit, haphazardly stuck on.
"Yeah, look in a mirror, cat-freak!" smirked Arc.
"Actually, I look pretty cute," observed Orchid, studying her reflection on the glass of the veiw screen. "Unlike pirate-oaf there."
"Can we get going, kupo?" aske Montblanc, heading off any remarks of Arc which could lead to a full scale argument.
"Okay," smiled Orchid, turning and swishing the keyblade through the air. "Halloweentown, here we come!"
