Yes yes I know we must have more Larxel fangirl scream and then passes out But I loathe to break the habit of my stories. Besides. This part is different then how they usually are, so maybe that will compensate. Or at least slightly. Hehe. XD Glad you liked the last part. Mwahahaha.
..Sunny
IV. Even. Vexen. The Chilly Academic.
Journal Entry 34:
While Ansem the Wise persuades us to work with him as apprentices, as we agreed to be, I find myself more and more interested in the heart of Xehanort. He was here before I arrived as one of the apprentices, but I have heard his story many times. It is passed throughout town. Ansem the Wise found him, and Xehanort has no memory of his previous life. Ansem helped him regain his strength. Although we all seem to be clever and smart in our own ways, Xehanort seems to learn at a far greater rate then the rest of us do. Although I am a scholar by trade, I enjoy experimenting. Especially with things that I know so little about. Xehanort's heart is a case of this. Perhaps I can convince Ansem to let me do this personal study as he instructs the others.
Journal Entry 38:
Referring to the proposal I thought of a week ago, the one in which I wished to study Xehanort's heart, it has been rejected by Ansem the Wise. He prefers I continue to advance my knowledge with the others. I think this is hindering to my ability, but I do not protest. I cannot lose this opportunity; it was a miracle I even got it in the first place. Although, perhaps, I recall when Ansem told me how he had chosen me from all the other students at the university simply because of my paper on ice. I must admit; that was one of my better reports.
Journal Entry 45:
After lunch today, Ansem expanded on his reasons for not letting me study the matters of the heart further on my own. It would seem that the whole thing was weighing heavily on his mind the past couple of days. He tells me it is because of my personality. This came, no doubt, as a bit of a shock to me. My personality? My personality? As a scholar, it is vital that feelings do not get in the way of studies. I have lived my whole life this way, knowing that it is the best for my chosen path in life. But Ansem seems to think differently. A foolish notion.
Journal Entry 46:
Ansem approached me again after dinner. Perhaps meals clear his head for it seems that after these events he has the most will power to reveal more about his choices. Before I continue, let me first add that there are many things I do not know about Ansem the Wise. His origins are, at the best, shrouded in mystery. At least to my knowledge. And, if anyone would know about Ansem, it would be me. To return to the subject at hand. Ansem told me that my personality, is in fact, correct for the scholar. I felt a burst of pride, I am ashamed to admit, but also a spark of hope as I wondered whether he was rethinking his decisions to let me study the heart on my own. But, before my imagination could get too carried away, Ansem informed me that while the stoic behavior was good for normal studies, the matters of the heart were no simple task (in those words). He said, that for me to be able to study the heart, I must have compassion for its abilities. But, at least I will still get to study the heart…as a group.
Journal Entry 72:
Because of the recent change in our study plans, I have had less and less time to record personal statements in my journal. However, the manuscripts containing my observations and research are growing thicker by the day. In an attempt to preserve the part of me that recalls those days before Ansem the Wise, I will now document as much as I can remember.
Even Diso was born to Elaine and Bor Diso close to the castle of Hollow Bastion in Radiant Garden. Elaine and Bor Diso, as catalogued in the city's files, died in an accident shortly after the birth of their first and only son. I, Even, was taken as an infant to Fah Ri, the only living relative of my parents that could possibly support me. Even now, I can hardly think that Fah Ri was an actual relative. However…my father, before meeting my mother, had been known to be sociable and making allies in many different places during his mysterious world travels. Or, so I heard. Those around town liked to gossip, and it usually reached my ears. However. This academic has strayed from the original point of this entry. Fah Ri had, apparently, been one of my father's closest friends, but they had fallen out of contact in the few years before his my father's death. Fah Ri had come and found his place in Radiant Garden and spent much time with my parents before their death. He even lived with them for a short time. Fah Ri volunteered to take me in, and at the time, I suppose it was the easiest choice for the town to make. By then, Fah Ri had already been accepted as one of the Diso family members in any sense. Fah Ri was known only as "Fah Ri", no shortening of the name…if that was his real name. He was also a much-talked about subject in Radiant Garden, due to his unusual yet good looks and his brilliantly clever, yet stoic, behavior.
As a child, I was, for some reason, prone to falling ill with many diseases. This proved to be a skill as I got older; I was never scared about injury or sickness. Since I often spent hours of the day in bed with some disease or another, I grew more and more interested in reading and the studies. At this point, perhaps, it would seem that I was already of my now stoic personality. That is a mistake easily made. Fah Ri instructed me early on that my life would be much harder without my parents and the fact that people talked almost constantly about me. I could hardly become anything in particular, like a noble person, because of my parents' low social stature when they were alive. Fah Ri had, through many skilled investments, accumulated a large amount of money. But even so, my life choices were limited. Fah Ri told me to adopt this behavior, especially, he added, if I wanted to be a scholar. As a young boy, I foolishly thought that this would raise my standing in Fah Ri's eyes, or that my chances of being a scholar would suddenly soar. But, it seems as if the choice was meant to be. Fah Ri funded my schooling and I attended the largest university in Radiant Garden. I was in my second year when Ansem the Wise pulled me from my studies and brought me here, instead.
Some may wonder whatever happened to Fah Ri. I was told by a professor one morning that Fah Ri had vanished from Radiant Garden without a trace. It was a mysterious case, indeed. All of his belongings still at the house, except for the clothes that he had been wearing that day. It would seem, by talking to the other apprentices that many of us have been left alone…in some way or another, not literally speaking perhaps. Maybe this makes our souls stronger. Our souls…perhaps I should ask Ansem if he would consider this in his studies. Probably not.
This has included the brief history of my life. I must now return to my studies.
Journal Entry 89:
Things have changed drastically since the time when Ansem refused my personal studies of the heart. That time seems so trivial and foolish now. The heart, indeed, more detailed than I would have thought. As I etch this down I can hear noises. Noises that are not good, striking fear within me. Xehanort has gone too far this time…but…but in the pursuit of knowledge, some day, Ansem may forgive us. Then again. Perhaps not. I have saved a few of my journal entries; the rest have been consumed by a surprise fire in the labs of Ansem's castle. It's not safe here any more, I know. These journal entries are going to be stored in a box. A box in a special location. Perhaps some day, they will be of some use to someone. If you have found these entries, read them if you wish and return them and the box to the original location. I may have need of them yet. Please mark a symbol on the back of these pages. I must know if someone has read these or not. My studies are located in a similar box that is on the other side of the garden, beneath the statue of ----------------------. If these pages suffer water damage, please --y w-th a --- ------. Do not attempt to ------ ------. The studies are labeled and are far more important than these journal entries. If you read these, do not ------- the studies from their --------- location. The time has come for me to finish my entries and place these saved few in the designated box.
Smir pulled the thinning jacket around him carefully, walking through the garden near the castle of Hollow Bastion. It's hardly a garden any more, Smir scoffed to himself. Charred remains were all that were left of the plants. Some trees still grew, but the whole area seemed dark and wilted. He shrugged his shoulders gently against the bitter wind. He paused as he saw Hollow Bastion looming on the other side of the fence. He dug his hands deeper into his pockets, letting his thin, worn shoes kick the dirt gently.
With an inquisitive expression on his face, he took a few steps closer, looking at the large mansion. He had heard a lot of rumors about that place. 'Course, hadn't everybody? It was only a few months ago really, when somethin' strange happened there. He had heard that all of the castle's owner's apprentices had burned and died in there…but, then again, most of those kinds of rumors were a bit far fetched. It was pretty much empty now. Except sometimes…though he didn't tell anybody…he would feel cold breezes coming from the direction of the castle. Dark feelings. He shrugged. He knew the future of Radiant Garden…or what was left of it…couldn't be too good. In fact, everybody seemed to feel that. Many were already leaving on ships destined for other areas in the worlds, claiming Hollow Bastion and its surrounding city to be filled with darkness.
Smir grinned to himself. If anybody knew how to handle darkness, then it would be him. It was cold. He dug his hands deeper into his empty pockets, hoping for his fingers to brush against a forgotten coin. He sighed. He hadn't had a very good day today; people seemed to be keeping their munny closer than ever. Pickings weren't too good either. Soon as the rumors started, all the rich fancy pants fellows had high tailed it out of there. He yawned and stretched his arms out above his head. He kept walking along the edge of the fence.
He knew he should be getting back to the Screaming Dragon. Ox, the barman, said he might give Smir a job waiting tables. Now that, Smir thought, would be something he could definitely use. Besides. Maybe that girl Yuffie would be there. 'Cept he had overheard her talking to some of her pals. Like they were gonna leave or somethin'. That'd be too bad. Yuffie was a fellow…borrower like he was. He grinned at that. Funny, really.
Thud.
Smir turned around rapidly, preparing himself to grab anything nearby that would be a weapon or if need be, to run as fast as he could. The park was empty. He looked around warily, not believing it was nothing. He crouched low to the ground, behind the dying bush and the old statue. He put his hands on the dirt below, so he could be flatter. Except…it wasn't dirt his hands touched.
He looked down. Smir stopped crouching as he let his knees, covered in raggedy, patched pants, hit the ground. He quickly brushed the dirt away with his hands. As a thief and a rogue, he knew that everything you did better be sweet and fast…or you were dead. Smir's eyes lit up as he saw that it was a metal plate of some sort. Whoever had covered it up had obviously done a horrible, quick, messy job. Well…except for embedding the metal plate stiffly into the ground. He paused for a moment.
Smir pulled out the pocketknife from his back pocket and starting cutting into the hard dirt. The thick blade didn't snap. He grinned. He could thank the drunken soldier behind the Dragon for this. It sliced through the dirt cleanly, and he could lift up the metal piece. He picked it up and glanced at it briefly. It could be handy in more ways than one. He laid it aside.
What was beneath was much more interesting…
Smir lifted the first box out of the hole. It seemed to have been there longer; some sort of vine was growing along its edge. That is, before Smir snapped it. It was also covered with dirt. He brushed it off quickly. The box appeared to be made out of some dark, delicate looking wood. There was also some sort of insignia carved into the wood, but the dirt was lodged in it, making it impossible to discover. Smir shrugged. He looked for a keyhole of some sort to pry it open by, but there was nothing. It was just a wooden cube. He glanced around. His eyes rested on an icicle growing from the edge of the fence. He leaned backwards and broke it off. Holding the sharp object in his hand, he randomly plunged into the center of the shape on the top of the box. Surprisingly, it slid open.
Smir dropped to his feet quickly again, his hands diving easily into the box. He pulled the contents out and held them in his hand. They seemed to be papers of some sort. There was a large pile in his hand. He quickly rifled through them, glancing over for anything of value. Most were labeled at the top with something like: DISO. EXAMINATION PAPERS. There was also something scribbled underneath this. He couldn't quite make out what it was. But that was of no matter. The name at the top. Diso. Not only were they some studies of some sort, but he knew that the Diso boy had been with that old man at Hollow Bastion. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought again. He knew that if he went through the Screaming Dragon, he would surely find a customer. He stuffed the papers into the folds of his coat, for he had many useful hiding places there. He shoved the box back together again and placed it neatly in the crevice in the ground.
His hands then dove back into the pit, searching for anything else. And his hands grasped another box, this one of almost the same shape. In the dimming light, he could see that there was an insignia on the top of this box as well. Except…there was something about the inscription that…bothered him. He shook it away. He might be close to the biggest pickings of his life…He searched the black box for some sort of lock. He found it. A neat little keyhole.
Smir took the pocketknife out again and stuck it through the keyhole. He tried to lift the lid through the keyhole, but to no avail. With a shock, he realized that this box was metal. Surprised, he examined the box again. Unlike the metal plating covering the hole, the box felt warm. Like it was being heated from the inside. This thought bothered him, yet excited him at the same time. Whatever was in there was worth getting out. He tried hitting a rock against it, using a hopefully magical icicle again. Neither worked. He was about to give up his hand rested on the top of the box. There was another hole here, hidden by the insignia. Smir grinned.
He placed the knife into the lock and wiggled it gently, waiting for the click. It came. The lid of the box sprung open. Expertly, he shifted through the contents of the second box. More papers. He sighed. He was hoping for something a little more interesting. He flipped through the papers quickly. These were typed, strangely. All very neat…disturbingly so… He caught a glimpse of the words on the page: Ansem Report 8. His eyebrows rose. He checked the box over again. Definitely a much more recent addition to the hole than the first box. He stuffed the papers in his jacket as well. He knew someone, specifically, who would want these. Thinking of his future customer's words from before… "Scatter the pieces"…yes. He would want these. Very much so.
He replaced the metal plate to the hole. Obviously, now he could see, that someone had left these for safe keeping. And he didn't want to be there when they discovered that their still hidden boxes were empty. He stood up and glanced around the dying, frozen park. He smiled to himself. Maybe this find would impress the girl from the Dragon. He walked slowly, as if he had nothing to hide, around the edge of the park.
"These were all you could find?"
The Dusk nodded its head slowly, its body weaving through the air. Vexen slammed the small sheaf of papers on his examination table. He heard the Dusk whisper silently: Have boxes of other hole.
Vexen waved the Nobody away. "I don't need the boxes, I need what's inside of … Boxes you say?" The Nobody's head nodded gently. "As in more than one box?" The Nobody nodded again. "Would you give them to me?" The Nobody, placed two boxes on the table. Vexen grinned as he saw the boxes. He turned away, to his computer.
"You can go home now," Vexen said absentmindedly, typing. It was a moment before he realized his words. He glanced over his shoulder at the Dusk. It stood there, still. Which was indeed a rare thing for a Nobody creature. He looked back to his computer, but did not type. He thought quickly. What he had meant was for the Dusk to return to the World That Never Was…but perhaps…
"Go home," Vexen stated firmly, looking at the computer screen. "But don't scare anybody. And when you're done…" But he had already heard the elegant swish. The Nobody was gone. Vexen waited a few minutes, thinking, before whirling and investigating the boxes once more. True to Dusk's words, both boxes had been emptied of its contents. A bite of regret stabbed the Chilly Academic, but he shook it away. All his studies…gone…but he didn't need them now, he thought with a bitter laugh. His hand hovered over the black metal box. He could feel the heat radiating from it. He grinned. The unknown thief hadn't even gotten the best part.
