The Tides Go Out

by Regiss

Four months later, the war between Maleficent's Heartless and Braig's Nobodies threatens to consume all worlds. In the middle of the conflict, Sora, Xion, and their friends continue the search for Riku while also dealing with Vanitas, who will stop at nothing to get Ven's heart. Sequel to Remember the Tides.

54. Memory of Xehanort - The Master

Chapter 54: Memory of Xehanort – The Master

"Wait, Xehanort."

At his companion's request, Xehanort halted. He stood in the center of the throne room, his hunched figure still and his hands behind his back. His gaze shifted from the light through the stained glass window down to the reflective tile floor, examining his aged visage. Eraqus wasn't nearly as aged as he; sure, he had wrinkles, but it was hard to believe they were the same age. This will all be worth it in the end, however.

Xehanort was snapped out of his musings when Eraqus continued in a calm but warning voice. "There is a reason the precepts bar us from such knowledge." Xehanort rolled his eyes and continued walking away. He had heard this speech hundreds of time throughout their years together. "Why do you seek the χ-blade?" He paused. This was new. A soft grin came to Xehanort's weathered face, despite himself. Eraqus, where had you heard about that? "Would you blanket all the worlds in darkness, reduce them to nothing!?"

Eraqus… Ever the fanatic, wasn't he? Xehanort had to fight to keep his voice stable—not a simple feat. Both of them were prone to having their tempers flare when this subject came up. "But darkness did cover the world once, in legend." Unlike Eraqus's strong voice to match his strong body, Xehanort's voice shook as he spoke. He could feel his parched lips cracking and took a small pause. "We know so little about the Keyblade War—only that it was just the beginning. Amidst that crisis a precious light was found." Xehanort began to turn toward Eraqus, then thought better of it and stopped halfway. "It is a curious tale—and one worth exploring.

"They say ruin brings about creation. So what, then, would another Keyblade War bring?" Xehanort did not seem to be willing to answer, and so Xehanort continued. "When the darkness falls, will we be found worthy of the precious light the legend speaks of? I must have these answers. The χ-blade needs to be forged, and with it, the door to the Keyblade War unlocked!" The precious light of Kingdom Hearts, that was his goal. To restart the Keyblade War, obtain the light, and unravel the universe's final mystery: what happens next. It was a worthy goal, one anyone should want to see fulfilled!

"Fool..." Eraqus's response was entirely expected, and yet Xehanort's jaw tightened in anger. Eraqus, too, was growing heated, thrusting his hand out. Light began to dance at his fingertips. "You would risk an apocalypse out of sheer curiosity? I will never allow it, Xehanort. Not while I live!"

"But once again you have it all wrong, Eraqus." Xehanort kept his voice as calm as he was able, and Eraqus's brow furrowed. His longtime friend's hand lowered, his Keyblade not summoned yet. Finally, Xehanort deigned to face him. "Darkness is a beginning, you see, not an end. At birth, every one of us emerges from darkness into a world of light, do we not?"

"Poetic excuses!" Xehanort sighed and closed his eyes. This was a waste of time, just as all their arguments were. Neither Master would ever change his stance. Xehanort turned his back to Eraqus and began making his way to the exit. The Land of Departure was no home to him.

"If words won't dissuade you," Xehanort slowed to a crawl at Eraqus's words, "only one thing will!"

Xehanort turned around to face Eraqus, the Master's Defender in his hand. He kept his composure, but inside the old man's heart raced. As heated as their arguments had grown in the past, combat was never before a part of them. This was new, and it showed how seriously Eraqus must have been taking this. Very well, if that was the case then Xehanort would not hold back either.

Xehanort could hear his heart pounding in his ears, feel its beat through every inch of his body, as the power flowed over him. A dark aura surrounded him as he summoned forth his own Keyblade, black lightning crackling around the ancient weapon. With a grin he pointed the key forward, an orb of darkness collecting at its tip for just a moment before launching forward.

The attack had been aimed for Eraqus's heart, but whether because of old age or some lingering regret affecting him, Xehanort's aim was very off. The twin bolts struck Eraqus higher up, on his face. He grunted in pain as the bursts of darkness connected and he was knocked backward, but to Eraqus's credit he never faltered. He stayed standing even in that unexpected attack—or so it seemed. A moment later, Eraqus's body gave out and he collapsed face-first onto the cold floor.

Xehanort sneered in disappointment as he approached Eraqus. But Xehanort's sneer vanished as Eraqus managed to push himself to his feet, planting the blade of Master's Defender in the floor for support. Perhaps he wasn't completely weak after all.

"That power…" Eraqus gasped out and glared up at him. Xehanort stared back. The attack had left scars on Eraqus's face, finally granting him an older visage and ironically mirroring a wound that Xehanort had given his old friend decades ago. "Has the darkness taken you, Xehanort?!"

Xehanort clicked his tongue and turned around one final time. "Not your concern." The light quite clearly blinded Eraqus, if he had taken so many long years to see it. Xehanort himself could scarcely remember a time without the shadow in his heart.

x-x-x

The χ-blade was made up of seven pieces of pure light and thirteen pieces of pure darkness. Gathering the lights was simple enough, in theory—all you needed to do was kidnap seven girls. The problem arose, of course, in executing that plan. Those seven could be any girl on any world in the entire universe. And while Xehanort had plans to find them—he always had plans—he was growing old. He did not have time to search.

Luckily, there was a way to forge the χ-blade in a hurry. Light and darkness, they were a balance. In theory, so too was χ-blade—or at least it should be. And so to make it, you could have equal forces of light and dark clash. It would not be the original χ-blade, but it should work. It would work. All he needed was one person; not seven, not thirteen, just one. A person worthy of the Keyblade, whose heart was a perfect balance between light and dark.

Perhaps that would be harder to find than the seven lights, Xehanort mused with a dry smile.

In his search, Xehanort's travels had brought him to a strange new world. It was a world that stood in the absolute center of the Realm Between, equidistant from both Light and Darkness. The town was large, but had a quiet, almost lazy, atmosphere to it. Built along mountainsides in the middle of a dense forest, the streets and buildings were all varying shades of orange. In the distance Xehanort heard a train whistle coming from the massive clock tower that was visible from anywhere he went.

The magic that permeated this world was ancient; older than him certainly, perhaps older than even his Keyblade. It was one of the first, then. The books that Xehanort had read since discovering the Keyblade had listed one of the battlefields of the Keyblade War as mountainous terrain. While that was hardly specific and could be anywhere in the universe, or perhaps on a world that no longer existed, the old Master couldn't help but wonder.

Xehanort stood in the town center, watching the crowds go about their daily routines. Moogles fluttered about. A woman held an infant girl with brown hair and green eyes, dressed in (of course) orange. A teenager hung posters for some upcoming tournament. A middle-aged woman flipped the sign on her candy shop from 'closed' to 'open'. One would think such a center of human activity would make someone whose life had been as isolated as Xehanort's long for home, but he had no home to long for. Not as far as he was concerned.

Something caught Xehanort's attention, a faint glimmer of light tugging at his heart from the direction of the forest. Light…and darkness. Grinning, Xehanort approached a large wall that cut off the city from the dense woods. A hole was there, newly-formed if the rubble was anything to go by, and a man was investigating the damage.

"What happened here?" He didn't actually care, but he still had some semblance of proper social etiquette.

The man jumped at Xehanort's question and stood up, dusting off his well-worn jeans as he turned around He raised an eyebrow at Xehanort's bizarre (by this world's standards) clothing and then shrugged. "Who knows? Earthquake, probably."

"Aren't you curious?"

"Don't see a reason to be. All I know is that's it's there, and that's what matters."

Xehanort pursed his lips at the man's nonchalant response. Could a world with people with so little imagination really bring rise to a Keybearer? No, of course it could, he told himself with a light shake of his head. The islands had been the exact same way. People had no sense of adventure, of discovering the unknown. No ambition. In fact, perhaps it was better this way. A Keybearer candidate would naturally want to go off and explore. A quiet, worthless world like this would make it that much easier to convince them to leave.

Xehanort stepped through the hole, making his way into the woods without another word. He felt the man's gaze follow him into the shaded trees, but after only a short time he was ignored. Xehanort paid him no heed, and honestly forgot about him completely as he continued on. That heart was pulling him to his destination.

It was only a short walk in the woods before Xehanort emerged in a clearing. Across the rich green grass was a large mansion, old and worn-down. The walls were worn with time, vines and moss creeping up the stone bricks and seeping into every crack. Through the rusty iron gates he could see a broken courtyard, the remains of pillars littering the ground. The mansion's doors were ajar, and the inside too dark to see.

And Xehanort was not the only one in the clearing. A young boy, he couldn't be older than ten years old, stood in front of the gate. His spiky blond hair rustled in the summer wind, his grip on the metal bars of the gate tightening. He was staring intently at the massive, rusted lock hanging from the gates, so focused on it that he did not hear Xehanort's approach.

"Trying to get inside?" Xehanort asked. The boy jumped in surprise and turned to see the old man standing beside him, rubbing his chin as he investigated the lock. Xehanort turned to look down at the boy and smiled, easing his worry.

The boy returned the gesture, though his was uneasy. He let go of the bars and crossed his arms. "Yeah," he nodded, "but I can't get inside. But I wanna see it! There has to be so much cool stuff inside it!"

Xehanort couldn't help it, his grin widened. Ambitious, inquisitive, a balanced heart… I have found you.

"I can sympathize," he said. "I too was an adventurous young lad."

"Wow! Really, mister? But that must have been years and years ago!"

Xehanort was again reminded of his age, but he pushed back his thoughts even as his body began to ache. "Really," he said with a faked, wheezing chuckle. "So tell me…how about I help you in?"

The boy him up and down then raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Can you do that?" Xehanort inwardly grimaced; the boy would learn to see true strength yet.

Xehanort simply turned toward the gate and held out his hand. "Can you keep a secret?" At the boy's slow nod, Xehanort closed his eyes. Black lightning danced at his fingertips as smoke slowly began to coalesce in his palm. He flexed his fingers, felt the light rush through his body, and heard the boy let out an awed gasp. Snapping his eyes open, Xehanort pointed his Keyblade forward and gathered magic at the tip.

An instant later, the lock fell lifelessly to the ground. The boy stared, slack jawed and wide-eyed, at the open gates. He turned to Xehanort, then the gates, then back at Xehanort without his expression every changing. Xehanort simply kept his smile up as he dismissed his Keyblade.

"That…was…AWESOME!" the boy shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. "What was that?!"

"Just a little magic. You could learn it too, you know."

"I could?!"

Xehanort nodded and moved his hands behind his back. "Of course. But…you'll have to tell me your name first."

"Is that all?! That's easy!" He stood tall looked Xehanort in the eye, his own bright blue eyes sparkling. "I'm Ventus! My friends call me Ven!"

"Very well then, Ventus. And you may call me Master Xehanort." Xehanort held his Keyblade out. "Would you like to see it?"

The boy's eyes shined brightly, as bright as the light in his heart, and a wide smile grew on his face. "Can I?!"

Smiling, Xehanort crouched down—not an easy feat; he felt his old bones protesting—and knelt on one knee. "In your hand, take this key."

He flipped the Keyblade around, holding it by the blade, and held the hilt out toward Ventus. The boy hesitated and glanced at Xehanort, but a nod from the old Master moved him forward. Ventus's little fingers wrapped around the weapon and Xehanort held tight onto his end, looking Ventus in the eye.

"So long as you have the makings, then through this simple act of taking, its wielder you shall one day be. And you will find me, boy—no more will walls rob you of joy. No more borders around, or below, or above, so long as fear is what you are devoid of."

x-x-x

Xehanort stood on a rocky cliff under a sunset sky. The dry winds blew about rusty-hued dust, picking it up from the desert ground or eroding it from the mountains surrounding them. These badlands were dead for centuries, millennia, with not a soul living there. And yet, Xehanort almost—almost—found it to be home. It was certainly the place he spent most of his time these days.

Xehanort looked down below the cliff he stood on, watching as his apprentice going on one year now wielded his Keyblade against denizens of the Realm of Darkness, creatures of pure shadow. His heart may have been in perfect balance, but it was still weak. Both light and dark needed to be strengthened, and if Xehanort had learned anything in his life it was that strength of heart was found by facing trials. Trials such as combat…which, unfortunately, the boy was proving to be rather pathetic at.

Ventus looked around at the black creatures surrounding him, their golden eyes watching his every move. His stance faltered, he flinched back in fear, and he held an arm up defensively. Xehanort growled under his breath at the boy's lack of courage, but he knew he had it in him. He just needed to draw it out…or have it be drawn out for him.

Ventus looked up at Xehanort imploringly. "Please don't do this, Master. I'm not strong enough."

Xehanort held back a sigh and repressed the anger in his voice. He was growing tired of pretending to care for the boy. "No." He shook his head. "It is because you are trying to hold it in. Let the dark impulses waken in the pit of your heart." He raised his hand and gestured into the darkness, pulling more of the black creatures from its depths. "Release them, here and now! Sharpen your fear into rage."

Ventus did nothing as the shadows began moving toward him. Xehanort was beginning to lose his patience. "You must! If you do not let the storm within you run its course, it will wipe you from the face of the world, make no mistake!" Ventus gasped and moved away from the shadows, but they were on all sides of him. Xehanort's hands balled into fists. "Do it. Embrace the darkness. Produce for your Master the χ-blade!"

Ventus held his ground at Xehanort's words…at least until the first shadow lunged at him. He screamed, holding his hands up until the razor-sharp claws came at him. What a meager defense. Xehanort watched the assault with an impassive face. Perhaps this boy wasn't the perfect choice to forge the χ-blade after all, but he was stuck with him. Xehanort sighed; he should probably stop the creatures before they got too far.

Xehanort's figure blurred and vanished, and an instant later he was in the middle of the fray with his Keyblade drawn. He spun around with startling speed for a man in his condition, strength despite his age, and sent waves of power out with every swing of the Keyblade. He did not even waste his time casting spells, felling the darkness with his weapon alone. When at last the final shadow had fallen, Xehanort looked down at his fallen apprentice with a sneer.

"Really? You would rather die than use the power?"

It was clear to him now that his first plan would not work. Ventus may have had light and darkness in perfect balance, but he could not embrace that darkness. The light would overpower it because he was too cowardly to dive into the shadows.

"Feckless neophyte." Xehanort made his decision. With the bottom of his boot, for Ventus was worth no further effort than that, the old man rolled the barely-conscious boy over so he lay on his back. "If I must… I will extract the darkness from within you myself." If Ventus would not embrace that darkness, then he would have to have the darkness embrace itself. Ventus could work on the light all he wanted… Xehanort would forge a new apprentice for the χ-blade's other half.

Holding his Keyblade in both hands, Xehanort held it up over Ventus's prone form and pointed the tip at his chest. To unlock a person's heart… This was a technique strictly forbidden by Keybearers, not performed since the Keyblade War of old, but Xehanort was privy to it nonetheless.

The beam of light that flew from the tip of his Keyblade pierced Ventus in the chest. The boy's eyes shot open as his back lurched upward, and he gasped in pain, but he did not awaken. Xehanort watched as half of Ventus's heart rose up from his glowing chest, and continued to watch as a storm of darkness flew in from everywhere to surround the glowing orb. The shadows coalesced, tightened around the fractured heart, and then faded away to reveal a boy without a face.

Xehanort watched Ventus's eyes grow dull and lifeless, then turned to the new boy and dismissed his Keyblade. "Empty creature from Ventus riven…to you, the name Vanitas shall be given."

"Yes, Master."

x-x-x

"I did not expect to return so soon."

"…"

He didn't know why he bothered speaking. Ventus was a broken shell of his former self, incapable of even the simplest tasks. Just about all the failed Keybearer could do was follow someone around. Vanitas wasn't much better. Hiding in Xehanort's shadow, the boy could talk but only in broken sentences. Xehanort wasn't much a fan of other people, but if he was to be around them he at least wanted some conversation.

Well, it won't matter after today anyway.

The beautiful castle of the Land of Departure stood before Xehanort and his forlorn apprentice. Created after the chaos of the Keyblade War that tore the World asunder, generations of Keyblade wielders had called this castle in the Realm Between home. From here they watched over the Realm of Light while keeping an eye on the Realm of Darkness. Xehanort had been ecstatic to arrive here as a young man, but now he saw nothing but a bright radiance that shunned the light when it should have strived to strike a balance.

Still, that light made it perfect for Ventus. While Xehanort worked on raising Vanitas's darkness, Eraqus, in his blindness, would strengthen the light. For once his black versus white perspective would be working for Xehanort rather than against him, and Eraqus would be none the wiser. It was the perfect plan.

The massive doors to the castle swung open, slightly surprising Xehanort. He had not given Eraqus notice of his arrival, yet it seemed his old friend knew they were here. Well, this conversation would certainly be…enlightening.

No pun intended.

Xehanort entered the castle to the sound of combat. Keyblade training? A young man and woman's battle cries echoed from upstairs, and Xehanort caught flashes of brown and blue from his position at the entrance. So Eraqus had finally taken on apprentices, had he? Well, it was about time.

Eraqus was awaiting him at the bottom of the stairs that led to the throne room. Xehanort pursed his dry lips but said nothing, walking toward his scarred companion and leaving the silent Ventus behind. He gestured up the stairs without a word, and after a look over Xehanort's shoulder at the boy Eraqus turned around to lead Xehanort to the throne room.

As they moved up the stairs, Xehanort paused a moment to watch Eraqus's apprentices. They were speaking in hushed tones, no doubt about himself and Ventus. The girl with blue hair gave off a strong magical aura, almost rivaling Yen Sid's at that age, which Xehanort had to admit was quite impressive. But the boy with brown hair… He was muscular and broad-shouldered. His Keyblade was a heavy one. He was incredibly powerful.

Xehanort grinned to himself then turned to catch up with Eraqus. He was waiting in front of the central throne, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed, and his jaw set. Xehanort did not return the favor, keeping an air of composure about him. He could not afford to start another one of their arguments, not this time. Ventus staying with Eraqus was too important to risk.

"I must admit I didn't expect to see you again after our last encounter." Eraqus's voice was low and harsh. Faint echoes reverberated off of the walls, just enough to add a bit of presence to his words.

Xehanort smiled disarmingly, an art he had managed to perfect in the year spent with Ventus. "Were those your apprentices back there, Eraqus?" He gestured over his shoulder. "I do not believe they were here during my last visit. And you didn't think to introduce me?"

Eraqus lowered his arms, though his expression of anger and distrust did not change. "You've hardly cared about me before. Why are you suddenly so interested in what happens here?"

"I cannot simply visit an old friend?"

"Next time I'll have to tell Yen Sid to stop by," Eraqus deadpanned. "Xehanort… Who is that boy you were with? Don't tell me you have taken on an apprentice as well."

Xehanort faked a sigh and brought a distraught hand to his face. "Yes, Eraqus, it's true. But it seems that there was a reason our Master did not choose me as his successor. I am unworthy of training others after all, and Ventus has paid dearly for it." Xehanort stole a peek between his fingers as Eraqus's brow furrowed in concern.

"He did seem rather…not all there. What happened, Xehanort?"

"It was an accident!" He could never know the truth of what had happened, but Xehanort had prepared a lie; or perhaps more accurately, a bit of fudging the truth. The best lies were built from the truth, after all. "While training with me, Ventus succumbed to darkness, and there was but one way to save him—strip that part of him away. In the process, I damaged Ventus's heart in the most horrific way."

"You unlocked his heart?!" Eraqus shouted. "Xehanort, that technique is strictly forbidden!"

"It was that or let the boy be consumed by the darkness!" Xehanort shot back at him. He held his hands out imploringly. "By unlocking his heart, Ventus's darkness manifested as a new being of pure evil and negativity. I have dealt with that abomination, but Ventus cannot stay with me. Not after I caused him such grievous harm."

Eraqus frowned deeply. He was torn between concern for the boy and distrust of Xehanort. No doubt he was also wondering what Xehanort had really done with Ventus's darkness. But he had no support for whatever accusations were running through his mind.

"But why bring him to me?" Eraqus asked after a minute's contemplation. "Why not his family?"

Xehanort turned away in feigned pain, clutching at his heart. "I could not let them see him like this! Ventus's family trusted me with his wellbeing, and I betrayed that trust. And besides…"

"Besides…?"

"His darkness was not the only thing stripped away." Xehanort looked back at Eraqus over his shoulder. "I fear I may have cut Ventus's heart unevenly. The half that manifested as the dark creature held his memories as well. My dear apprentice cannot remember a single thing."

"Xehanort…" Eraqus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Xehanort, you know full well what dangers a heart of pure light possesses, especially if the pure darkness was not completely eradicated." Oh dear, was Eraqus catching on? He couldn't have that. Xehanort ran through many possibilities in his head, coming up with something to say that would get Eraqus's thoughts off that path. But he needn't have bothered, for an instant later the two Masters heard pained screams coming from the entrance room.

Xehanort and Eraqus both snapped their head for the doorway. That was Ventus! Eraqus couldn't have recognized the voice, but he'd know it wasn't his two apprentices.

"Oh no! Terra, Aqua!" Eraqus shouted as he bolted down the stairs two steps at a time. Behind him, Xehanort smirked. Oh, so those were their names. Wiping the grin off his face, Xehanort followed his old friend down the flight.

Eraqus's apprentices stood horrified in front of Ventus, who stood on his knees with his hands clutching the sides of his head. His face was twisted into perhaps the most pained expression that Xehanort had ever seen. Within his shadow, Xehanort felt Vanitas…laugh?

"What did you do?!" Eraqus demanded of his apprentices.

"Nothing! I…" As the boy—Terra, Xehanort assumed—spoke, Xehanort moved past him and picked Ventus up in his arms. "I just asked him some stuff."

Xehanort looked up at Eraqus, locking eyes with his old friend in a silent plea. Eraqus sighed and turned to Terra and Aqua. "Ventus cannot tell you anything…because he cannot remember anything."

And at that moment, Xehanort knew, Ventus's destiny was set in stone.

x-x-x

What was a home? Was it where you were born? Where you were raised? Where your family and friends were, or where you had the fondest memories? Ask anyone and they would give you a different answer, one which may or may not have been among those. But for Xehanort, he didn't have an answer. He didn't have a home. He had intentionally left everywhere that could have qualified behind.

Yet here he was, returning to the islands where he had grown up after decades of ignoring it. The stop to bring Ventus here before the Land of Departure had triggered something within the tired old man, and he felt a sense of longing for the old beaches that had nagged at him for four more years before he finally acted on that nagging.

Everything was the same as he remembered it, even if he saw it from a wildly different perspective now. He had wandered through town more as an outsider than a native after all these years, but moved with such grace through the old, familiar streets that he did not call attention to himself. He walked for hours, taking in it all. His childhood home still stood, but none alive today recalled him or his family. The building was owned by another family now. Xehanort stood in the street, watching the white-haired man wave goodbye to his young son who made his way down to the houses on the beach.

It was the play island that brought the most memories back to Xehanort, however, as he had spent the most time there as a boy. He was not one to get wrapped up in nostalgia and memories, yet nonetheless Xehanort found himself leaning against the old paopu treeand looking out at the ocean. The sound of the waves, the cawing of the seagulls, the scent of the sea breeze—it was all unchanged. Xehanort had despised this place as a boy…and he quickly came to remember why he had left it.

It was small. The people here, with few exceptions, had no ambition or imagination. They stuck to their livelihood, often the same one their parents did, and their parents before them. Everything was a family-run business, from the common baker to the mayor himself. Not one person had thought to strike out on their own when Xehanort was a child, and judging by his visit into the town today, that much had gone unchanged just like everything else.

"This island is a prison." Xehanort looked to his side, where Vanitas sat on the tree with one leg dangling off of it.

Xehanort gave his masked apprentice an amused smile and a slight chuckle. He stood up from his rest against the tree and placed his hands behind his back. "Great minds think alike, I suppose."

"Hmph. Never expected you to put me on your level." Vanitas didn't get up with Xehanort, despite his complaining about the world. He had a problem with that. If it wasn't combat related, Xehanort could hardly get the boy to do anything.

"Sometimes even I can be generous."

"Thank goodness for simple pleasures." Vanitas swung his leg slowly back and forth. "So what are we even doing in this backwater place, especially if you hate it as much as me?"

"Just indulge in an old man's longings. I learned my mistake, I assure you."

"Emotions?" Vanitas barked out a laugh. "You telling me you're human after all? Guess I lost a hundred munny."

"Watch your tongue, brat."

"Make me."

Ordinarily Xehanort would have, but something else drew his attention away: children. Laughter and the soft clunking of wood on wood rose up to the two Keybearers from the beach, prompting Xehanort to investigate. On the sand below were two young children, one with brown hair and one with white, who laughed together as they play-fought with wooden swords—a time-honored tradition on the islands. Neither the children nor their chaperone at the docks noticed Xehanort as he continued to watch them.

Vanitas sat up and turned his head to the children. He grew silent, staring at one in particular and speaking in a whisper. "That kid looks just like…"

But as Vanitas eyed the brunet, Xehanort watched his companion. So young, and already so talented. He was moving his feet as if he had been swordfighting his whole life, and although he took great care not to hurt his friend there was still real power in those swings. "A shame," Xehanort mused. "If he were ten years older, I might have preferred him over Terra."

x-x-x

The water was calm and crystal-clear. The sun was shining brightly with not a cloud in the sky, and the breeze was just cool enough to keep everyone comfortable. The king had brought the entire castle staff out to the lagoon for a day of celebration and relaxation. Music and the sound of laughter rebounded along the cliff walls as servants and their children all played in the tropical waters.

Running a hand through his large brown beard out of an uncharacteristic nervousness, King Triton of Atlantica turned to his beautiful, beloved Queen Athena. He brushed a hand over her face and caressed her cheek as she stared back at him with those lovely green eyes. Just one look into those sparkling orbs and all his worries went away. Turning away for just a moment, Triton reached into a crack between the rocks the two of them rested on and pulled out a blue and gold clam.

But it was not just any clam. As Athena took it in her hands and opened the shells, a soft melody came from within the enchanted instrument. Sparkles of light rose into the air and merged together, forming into an image of two dancing merfolk. Athena gasped in a mixture of surprise and joy, and looked to her beloved husband with a heartwarming smile.

"Endless sky…" Triton began to sing along with the music in a quiet voice.

"Our song…"

"Our song."

Triton cupped Athena's chin in his hand and waved to the assembled musicians, who began to play with renewed vigor. This day, this entire party, was a gift for her: the mermaid with a heart as bright as the sun, who filled his whole world with music. Athena rested her head on Triton's shoulder and he moved in for a kiss…

The sound of muffled giggling, however, pulled the attention of the king and queen. His daughters, Ariel, Aquata, Andrina, Arista, Adella, Alana, and Attina, were watching from behind a rock and trying to hide. Triton gave Athena a sly look and brought a finger to his lips, hushing her, as he silently slipped beneath the surface of the water.

His daughters had seen him leave and, knowing they had been found, ducked their heads behind the rock. But their giggling continued, which led Triton right to them from below. He grabbed the seven rascals in his mighty arms and lifted them out of the water, their momentary surprise giving way to another fit of giggles. They dogpiled onto their father, knocking Triton back into the water and them with him, Athena laughing all the while.

As the music continued to play, Triton joined his daughters and the rest of his people in play. He swam through the lagoon, giving children rides or playing games with them. At Ariel's insistence, he tossed her up into the air and gave her a view of dry land before she fell back into his loving embrace.

"Again, Daddy!"

Triton chuckled. "Okay, Ariel, but just one more time." But as he repeated the process he had done a hundred times before over the last few years, something went wrong. At the highest point of her toss, Ariel's laughter was suddenly cut off. She let out a horrified gasp and recoiled as she fell back, prompting Triton to jump and catch her instead of waiting for her fall to finish. As soon as she was safely secured in the water by Athena and her sisters, Triton spun around to see just what she had.

"A human…"

"Who is that?"

"A surface dweller!"

The crowds of merfolk murmured amongst themselves, some retreating back toward Atlantica. Triton's brow furrowed as he took in the newcomer.

Xehanort stepped out from the forest on the cliff overlooking the lagoon. He gave a graceful bow to Triton and Athena, as well as the young princesses. "Greetings to you, Triton, Prince of the Seas! Or I suppose it's King Triton now, isn't it?" He stood as straight as his old back would allow and grinned down at King Triton, who took Athena protectively in his arms.

"Who are you, stranger?"

"Why, is that any way to greet an old friend?" Xehanort couldn't blame Triton for not recognizing him, though. Last time they met he hadn't been so ancient…not to mention he had a tail. But he could see the thoughtful expression on Triton's face. He was studying Xehanort, studying his face, his skin, his hair and eyes… Xehanort would make it easier for him. He held out his hand and called on his Keyblade.

That was it. As Triton watched the Keyblade reflect the sunlight, the memories came to him. A large smile broke out on his face. "Xehanort! My word, Xehanort, is that you? Are Eraqus and Yen Sid with you?"

Xehanort smiled. "I am on my own today, unfortunately."

"You know him?" Athena asked warily.

"He's an old friend, my dear. We can trust Xehanort." Triton turned to the merfolk who remained at the lagoon. "Come, everyone! It is alright! He is an old boyhood friend of mine!"

"I do not mean to intrude…"

"Nonsense, Xehanort! We were holding a party for my wife, Queen Athena. Come down and introduce—" Magic rose up around Xehanort and blurred his figure, clouding him from sight. A mere instant later he stood on the rocks beside Triton and Athena. Little Ariel backed away from him to join her sisters. "In-Introduce yourself." Triton blinked and then smiled. "You've mastered that weapon of yours, have you?"

"The Keyblade, yes. Eraqus, Yen Sid, and I are all proper Masters."

"It seems both of us have moved up in the world since last we met, then!" Triton leaned in and examined the Keyblade. "If I remember right, this thing can open anything. To hold such power, to jump between worlds! I envy you and your comrades, Xehanort."

Xehanort slowly pulled the Keyblade away. "Ah, but there is a dark side to everything, isn't there? The ancient stories say that the a Keybearer shatters peace and brings ruin."

Triton's brow furrowed in concern, but he laughed it off soon enough. "Perhaps in the wrong hands, but I've seen what you did with that as a boy, Xehanort, and I remember well enough what Eraqus said."

"That's right. We safeguard the light…"

And the light was why Xehanort had come to this world. He needed a backup plan. In case everything with Ventus and Vanitas did not work out, he needed a way to create the χ-blade—preferably the real thing. That meant searching for the seven lights, the Princesses of Heart. And he believed he had found one.

"Tell me, Your Majesty," Xehanort said with a respectful nod. "where were you hiding this lovely one?" As if he didn't already know.

"My Athena?" Triton grinned and cupped Athena's chin in his hands. While she smiled back at him, her concerned eyes flickered over to Xehanort. "Why, we met shortly after you and your friends left, as a matter of fact. Decades together ruling the oceans, with our beloved daughters at our side and music in our hearts."

"Strong hearts, to be sure." Xehanort examined his Keyblade, keeping one eye on Athena the whole time as she did on him. "Tell me, Queen Athena. Would you say your heart is full of light?"

Both monarchs seemed somewhat put off by the question, but Athena answered nonetheless. "I…suppose so, yes. With my daughters' light."

Xehanort showed off his practiced smile. "I should very much like to meet them."

"Let me gather them up." Triton turned to find the brats, and as he did so Xehanort saw his opportunity. He tightened his grip on his Keyblade and crouched down behind Athena. Most other merfolk were busy, having gone back to their games, and those who still paid attention did not have time to react.

As the Queen of the Sea let out a bloodcurdling scream, the sounds of laughter and music ceased. Eyes wide with horror, Triton whirled around in time with his daughter's cries. "Athena?!"

Athena's fading body fell face-first into the water, a brilliant light coming out of her chest. Merfolk screamed and fled, some of them quickly gathering up the crying, horrified princesses and bringing them back under the water as they cried for their mother. Unphased by the chaos that had broken out around him, Xehanort frowned as Athena's heart lifted into the sky and was consumed by darkness. Hm, so she wasn't one after all. What a shame.

"XEHANORT!" Xehanort looked down as Triton, the magical trident in his hands glowing with a bright light, leaped out of the water and flew toward him. Xehanort broke into a murderous smile that bared his teeth and brought his Keyblade up, knocking Triton aside with a single swing that also sent the trident flying far out into the depths. "What have you done, Xehanort?!"

"Wasted my time, it would seem." Xehanort turned away and dismissed his Keyblade.

"I demand an answer, Xehanort! What did you do to Athena?!" Xehanort did not answer Triton's shouts, summoning a corridor of darkness instead. He listened to the fool rant asd the shadows bubbled up before him. "Xehanort, you and your companions showed me years ago to trust outsiders! Now you betray that trust?!"

"Trust is a fool's road, I would say."

"It would seem we agree! I won't make this mistake again, Xehanort. From this day forward, there is no room in my ocean for you people or your keys!"

"Do what you will, 'Your Majesty.'" Xehanort was all to glad to leave another wretched world behind.

x-x-x

In all these years of searching, Xehanort had only identified one of the Princesses of Heart, a young woman named Aurora. The darkness had sapped away years of his life, and he would not last much longer if he did not find a proper vessel soon. Luckily, however, he had found the backup he needed.

The natives called it the Forbidden Mountain, but Xehanort called it an opportunity. They said it was the home to an evil fairy, one with such a temper that she cursed the local princess to death in retaliation for a slight as simple as not being invited to a birthday party. People who would abuse their power in such a way were unstable, but instability could be manipulated. If this fairy, this Maleficent, wanted power, then Xehanort would provide.

He walked through the fortress at the peak of the Forbidden Mountain, a field of minion corpses behind him. Whether they were dead or unconscious, Xehanort didn't know, nor did he care. His grand entrance had called the attention of a black raven, which cawed as it circled far overhead. Xehanort leveled his Keyblade at the bird and fired a bolt of lightning, which it dodged masterfully, confirming his suspicions. This was no ordinary raven.

Black smoke rose from the bird as it descended, consuming its form and growing larger the closer the raven got to the ground. When it landed the smoke cleared, revealing a pale, scarred man beneath it. He stood between Xehanort and the next doorway, no doubt the one that led to the throne room.

"I am here to speak to your mistress," Xehanort proclaimed strongly. "Surely she has time to listen to an old man's ravings?"

"She wants nothing to do with you," the shape-shifter replied. Smoke was rising off of his hands, his fingers morphing into powerful black claws that ignited with green flame. "And I will give my life to fulfill her wishes."

Xehanort smiled. "Bold words. Can you back them up?"

"I am not afraid of an old man!" The pale man dashed forward, leaving streaks of black smoke and green embers behind him as he ran. With a roar he leaped into the air and brought both flaming claws down on an unmoving Xehanort—only to be knocked aside by a blur of black and red. Vanitas shot out of Xehanort's shadow and thrust his Keyblade right through the shape-shifter's abdomen, causing blood and smoke to fly out of the wound. His shape was changing, feathers growing over his skin and his body shrinking. The wound closed up with the alterations, the magic that transformed him healing him as well, but soon enough all that stood in their way was an unconscious raven.

"How pathetic. He clearly doesn't know how to fight." Vanitas poked the raven with the toe of his boot.

"That may be, but keep an eye on him all the same. I'm sure he can turn into more than just a man."

"Whatever."

Xehanort left behind his bored apprentice and stepped further into the light-forsaken fortress. He emerged in a round room with an elevated outer ring, and turned to see a tall woman with pale green skin and flowing black robes. The fey witch, Maleficent, glared down at Xehanort with her teeth bared in anger.

"Do you expect me to bow to a man who would assault my most loyal pet?" she asked in an echoing voice.

"All I expect is for you to listen." Xehanort's voice, on the other hand, did not echo. It was not a part of the room, then, but some magic of her own. To seem more imposing, Xehanort figured. It would probably work on anyone else, but not him.

"You ask much of me, strange interloper. Why should I not cast you down where you stand?"

"Because I fascinate you." Maleficent recoiled slightly. She regained her composure an instant later, but it happened and Xehanort saw it. He grinned. "Since I arrived in this world, you have been watching me. You know I and the magic I command do not belong here."

He knew it was true from the look on her face, and Maleficent did not need to say anything to confirm it. But something Xehanort said caught her attention, her face shifting ever so slightly as two simple words fell from his mouth. "This world?" she questioned.

And Xehanort had her. "Indeed. You did not think you were the only one, did you? Every light in the heavens, every star in the sky, is another world—a world which has no knowledge of any small-time witch who spent over a decade searching for a little girl."

"Then why, among all the worlds out there, did you come to mine? For what reason did you have to visit me, old man?"

"'Old man…' Can we not be on friendly terms, Maleficent? My name is Xehanort." He grinned once more and held his arms out in a disarming gesture. Maleficent did not look impressed. "What I need your help with is simple: imprisoning the light."

"The light…?"

"There are seven maidens of the purest heart. We call them the Princesses of Heart." He paused and watched Maleficent with a steady gaze. She was not stupid, and he could see the connections falling into place.

"You speak of Princess Aurora."

"Her and six others, yes. Gather them together, and a door will open to the Heart of All Worlds, the ultimate source of light in the universe: Kingdom Hearts. Within lies untold wisdom." He paused once more, allowing it to sink in. "And wisdom leads to power, does it not?"

"…I am not saying I believe you…" Maleficent tapped her bony fingers against the side of her staff. "But if I were to aid you, Xehanort, what would you get out of it?"

"I am far too old to go about conquering other worlds anymore." For emphasis, Xehanort cracked his back and neck. "I simply wish to see Kingdom Hearts with my own two eyes. You, Maleficent, can take its power for yourself."

He did not miss the sparkle in her eye. "And how do you propose I go about gathering those hearts? I do not presume the other six are in my…world."

Xehanort felt the lightning dance at his fingertips. "There are these little things called Keyblades…"

x-x-x

"When I was told there was an intruder, I hadn't counted on it being some frail old coot. You lose your way, grandpa?"

"On the contrary, I've found exactly what I was looking for."

Radiant Garden, the city of light, was a world known to everyone who traversed the universe even though its inhabitants were not aware of other worlds themselves. Xehanort had never actually been to it before, a world with its reputation not exactly thrilling him. But even he had heard of the world's large history of research on the heart. Surely one apprentice in the local castle was a rebel, a maverick…a recusant.

After several weeks of Vanitas's espionage, Xehanort found who he was after. He had snuck into the castle, intentionally triggering alarms and calling attention to himself as he did so. He had found someone with a temper and, more importantly, the proper aspirations. This guard was not someone happy to sit in his current position, and he had fallen right into Xehanort's trap.

The guard's name was Braig. He aimed two crossbows at Xehanort, ones that used magic rather than bolts, befitting Radiant Garden's reputation. "You mean trouble? Not much else down in these sewers?"

"I was under the impression your name was Braig, not 'Trouble'."

He barked out a laugh. "Oh, a wise guy! And where'd you hear my name, huh? Are the townsfolk finally building me up a reputation? As if!"

Xehanort tilted his head. "Are you not the least bit curious how I got so far down here, Braig?"

"Well sure." Braig shrugged but kept his crossbows level. "But you don't exactly seem like the sharing type, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Wrinkly."

"Looks can be deceiving." Xehanort held his hand out and called his Keyblade out once more. He found himself doing that outside of combat quite often lately.

Braig let out a low whistle, but seemed otherwise unimpressed. "Fancy sword and all, but our locks weren't exactly chopped up."

"It's called a Keyblade, though I wouldn't expect you to know of it even on a world as old as this one." Braig quirked an eyebrow at the mention of multiple worlds, as so many did, but Xehanort did not elaborate, not yet. "It can unlock anything, and I do not only mean physical locks. Surely as an apprentice at this castle, you know what would happen if one were to unlock a heart…" As Xehanort finished speaking he held the Keyblade out to Braig.

Braig had been enraptured by the weapon as soon as Xehanort started talking about it, but now he raised an eyebrow. "Hold on, and you're just handing it over to me?" When Xehanort said nothing, Braig shrugged and reached for it—and Xehanort pulled it away. Braig clapped his hands twice. "Ha! As if. Alright, you wanna make a bargain, don't ya? For what, freedom? Getting out of here no strings attached?"

"Hardly. I do not need any help with that. No, Braig, what I need from you is much more…complex." Braig was listening. Everyone was being guided into their proper places, and everything was going according to plan.

Now there was only one stop left to make.

x-x-x

"Please accept my deepest gratitude for the invitation to witness your pupils' accession to the office of true Keyblade Master. It was a heavy mantle our Master placed upon your shoulders naming you Successor, but you have nonetheless persevered and raised two Masters yourself. I know it cannot be easy.

"I did you terrible harm in the past over a petty difference in opinion, and just a few years ago selfishly thrust my own burdens upon you. I think of you like a younger brother, and yet, fool that I am, I have never availed myself of countless opportunities to apologize or thank you for opening your home to the boy. Yet not once have you blamed me; on the contrary, here you are inviting me to such an important ceremony. I intend to be there to offer you all my blessings.

"Our Master chose his heir wisely. Ours is a bizarrely ironic task—to watch over the light from the shadows—but in the face of that, the warmth in your heart and unfailing dedication to the light impress me to no end.

"I have taken to wandering the World, and seen much darkness hiding in the light. Lately, I fear it has taken a turn for the worse. Perhaps Yen Sid has already told you about the Unversed? These fledgling emotions derive from negativity, and I can now sense their presence in nearly every world.

"And on the topic of darkness: we must speak of another matter that concerns me, one related to the upcoming ceremony. When I visited several years ago, your pupil Terra drew my attention. His power is immense, to be sure, but within his heart I could see darkness just waiting to be awakened. I know this is none of my business, but I have reservations about welcoming Terra as a true Keyblade Master without taking certain precautions. The traditional examination, perhaps, to see if he has the Mark of Mastery? The choice is yours, and I will humbly respect your decision.

"Take care. I eagerly await our long overdue reunion."

Xehanort set aside his pen and looked over to Vanitas, who was pacing impatiently against the far wall. "Are you quite done?"

Vanitas paused and turned toward Xehanort. "I think that's my line, old man."

Xehanort shook his head and stood up, his aged body screaming in protest as his bones popped. He stretched and cracked his back. He rolled his neck and shoulders. Heaven help him, if all this planning was for nothing then he would not even live long enough to see the fallout. Still, he pulled on his long black coat and called up a corridor. "Then I suppose it's time for a family reunion." As he entered the darkness, Xehanort's thoughts wandered to Eraqus's apprentices, his own former apprentice included.

This would be the last night they ever spent beneath the same stars.