Eighteen years ago:

It was day, but the sky was so laden with fat, black clouds that it was as dim as twilight. There was no rain, but thunder rumbled ominously as a man on horseback tore down the forest road like the Devil was on his heel. His clothes were made of silk and richly decorated with ruffles, frills, jewels, and all other manner of frippery. Their beauty was marred only by several wide slash marks through them, some of which also wept crimson from shallow cuts.

The horse was a steely-gray thoroughbred that had lived a well-kept life, but was now raggedy from galloping its heart out. Yellow froth flecked from the corners of its mouth, but every time it slowed to catch its breath its rider began viciously digging his spurs into its sides and smacking its flanks with a riding crop that looked like it would break any second.

The man was just starting to calm down, to think that maybe he had finally outran his persistent pursuer, but then his heart just about stopped cold when his horse carried him straight into that haunting scent…the scent of cherry blossoms mixed with blood. He pulled hard on the reigns, and his horse was so eager to stop that it almost threw him by accident.

Lightning flashed from somewhere very near, so that the thunder was already shaking autumn leaves loose from the trees as the flash illuminated a cloaked figure that stood on the road directly in front of the terrified merchant. He was a specter clad in blood-red leather, a hood obscuring his face, armed with a wickedly gleaming scythe in his hands.

The merchant began desperately tugging on his reigns, urging his horse to turn around and take off back the way they had come, but the horse nickered and shook its head weakly. The animal could feel its heartbeat slowing to well below normal, and with a shuddering breath its knees finally buckled. The horse collapsed onto its side, and slipped into a sleep from which it would never awaken. The merchant, possessed of the strength that comes to us only when the Reaper stares us in the face and we refuse to go quietly, managed to pull his leg out from under the dying horse and get out of the stirrups.

He took off running, his rational mind well aware that he couldn't possibly hope to escape but still driven on by his primal desire to survive. He'd gone five feet when he suddenly lost all feeling below his knees and fell into the dusty dirt road. His legs were numb, a feeling that was quickly spreading throughout his body, and against his better judgment he looked over his shoulder. He nearly fainted when he saw that both his legs had been severed at the knee, his calves/shins/ankles/feet lying a few feet behind him. The scythe-wielder now stood over him, his blade clean because he had swung so quickly that not only had his victim never felt the bite of the blade, but it had not caught a single drop of blood either.

The merchant screamed, his eyes burned with tears as he began sobbing hysterically. He turned away from the haunting figure and began crawling away, pulling himself through the dirt with his hands and elbows. Some part of him knew that the assassin could walk away right now, and he would still die from blood loss before he made it ten yards, but still he clung doggedly to his life.

"Your persistence is admirable," the scythe-wielder admitted in a soft voice, "Your stubborn will to live…almost fascinating." He stepped forward, moving ahead of his mark with only a few easy strides, and turned to look down upon him with his scythe resting on his shoulder. "Still, you offended the Dark Fairy, and as much as I envy anyone who manages to become a thorn in her side, it is regrettably my duty to visit ruin upon her enemies. You know, it was Maleficent's explicit command that I terrify you out of your mind before finishing you, so whatever it is that you did most have truly pissed her off. For that, at least, you deserve some measure of my respect. Bravo, sir." He swung his weapon down, and cleanly severed the merchant's head from his shoulders. His decapitated body spasmed and gushed blood for a moment before finally becoming completely still.

The assassin pulled a leather pouch from within his coat, stooped, and collected the head. He then stepped over to the horse. A white rose poked up out of the dirt and rapidly grew and bloomed, and he plucked it up without breaking his stride. When he stood over the dying animal, he lazily waved his rose over it, and as he did it shed all of its petals. Each rose petal, upon landing on the horse, glowed and melted into its hide. The white light spread until it enveloped the animal completely.

The assassin laid down his scythe and knelt down to remove the horse's bridle, and as he did so he spoke, "You gave your life up in vain for a selfish human master, and by the magic in my Fey blood I have given it back. May you never serve a selfish human ever again, and as a parting gift I bless you with the name of the lotus flower, which blossoms from murky swamp water yet gives off a pleasing scent. Good fortune and Godspeed, my friend." The assassin took up his scythe again, and without another word set off down the road.

An hour later, Lotus–now sporting a glimmering white coat and a glistening bright-pink mane and tail–opened his eyes and surged up to his feet with renewed vitality. His senses heightened and his mind sharpened, he looked around his surrounding with incomprehension. His eyes fell upon his former master's dismembered corpse, cooling in the dust, and he felt a strange pang in his heart that was mixed with an unpleasant sense of cold satisfaction. Shaking his head to throw off these confusing thoughts, he bolted away into the forest, uncertain what to do next.

And all the years that followed, no matter how hard or fast or far he ran, Lotus never exhausted himself again.

Present:

"I need a spear!" cried Dilan as he Aero'd a Soldier across the room.

"An axe would not be unwelcome," commented Aeleus as he intercepted a pouncing Shadow with a snap kick before hammer-fisting it into the ground.

Phillip dismissed three Shadows with a single swing of his enchanted sword. "We'll have to make for the armory then," he said. A Soldier charged towards him and leaped into a spinning kick, and as he didn't have his shield with him the king was forced to dive out of the way.

"AERORA!" roared Dilan, conjuring a mighty wind and then focusing it into a high-pressure drill that bored clear through the armored Heartless. As it was spinning around, it wound up being sliced to ribbons of darkness that dissipated even as they fell to the floor.

"Where?!" cried out Phillip.

"No, he said 'Aerora', not 'Aurora'," explained Aeleus.

"Oh, right…but still, where is she?" Phillip wondered aloud, "Can you two get to the armory on your own? I need to find my wife and get a grip on the situation throughout the castle."

"Understood. Don't worry your Majesty, we will manage," Dilan assured him. "But if you could spare directions…?"

"Ah, of course. It's two floors up from here, on the north side. It'll be the room that guards are rushing in and out of," his Majesty explained. Without any further ado, the king ran out of the room.

Dilan and Aeleus ran out after him, and took off in the opposite direction in search of the nearest stairwell. As they ran, Dilan said, "We can smack these monsters around to our hearts' content, but they won't stay down. We need to get Lea over here; only Keyblades can truly destroy the Heartless."

"True," Aeleus agreed.

"Moreover, the presence of Heartless means that both her Majesty the Queen and this world's Keyhole are in danger," Dilan added.

"Naturally," Aeleus agreed.

"But the Heartless are also drawn to the Keyblade…so Lea is probably drowning in Shadows already," Dilan guessed.

"Most probably," Aeleus agreed.

"Do you have anything to contribute?" Dilan snapped.

"You have no reason to be worried for Lea's safety. Recall that as Axel, he had the third highest number of successful combat missions, lagging only behind Marluxia and Xigbar."

"He also had the second-highest number of failed missions, and I'm not worried about him," Dilan corrected. They reached the stairs and rapidly ascended, smacking aside Soldiers and Wizards alike with blasts of wind and Aeleus's fists.

"You needn't worry about Even either," Aeleus spoke up as the emerged on the upper floor, "He might not be a fighter by inclination, but he's no slouch when he gets backed into a corner."

"Not worried about him, either–"

"If you're worried about how well they'll work together–"

"Aeleus, I am not worried!" Dilan insisted, "You and I, Lea and Even…we've all faced worse than this."

The halls became crowded with castle guards running for the armory and then running back out to seek and destroy (or rather, momentarily disperse) the Heartless. Dilan and Aeleus reached the armory and muscled their way in through the dense crunch of jostling bodies. Fortunately, Aeleus had a talent for pushing through crowds. "Oi!" cried Dilan, hailing the bellowing, portly fellow who appeared to be the resident Quartermaster. Summoning a gust, Dilan swept aside the clamoring guards in his way. "Look, I know you're all eager to be armed, but my companion and I have years of experience dealing with these bothersome beasts. We require armaments, on the double!"

"You're as tactful as ever," Aeleus muttered so that only Dilan could hear him.

"I can't say I care for your tone, young man," growled the Quartermaster, a burly potbellied fellow with a thick, well-groomed beard. "But this day's taken a harrowing turn so I'll let it go. You say you two are experts?"

"We have more experience with the Heartless than you lot, that much is certain," said Dilan.

"Hmm. Fair enough. Weapons of choice?" asked the Quartermaster.

"Spear for me, axe for him," Dilan replied, jerking a thumb at Aeleus.

The Quartermaster winced. "Sorry lad, but the good spears and axes've already been taken. All I've got left is an old well-worn boar-hunting spear and a hand axe for chopping wood…" he gestured at a distant dusty corner of the room.

Dilan felt the side of his face twitch, and Aeleus headed off an impending outburst of gripe by stepping up and saying, "That will do fine, sir. Thank you." He grabbed the poor-quality 'weapons', handed the spear to Dilan, and guided his friend out of the room hoping that the thrill of combat would distract him from his rising ire. Or at least provide a constructive outlet. As they set out in search of Heartless to dispatch, Aeleus asked, "Remember those old roleplaying games we played as boys, Dilan? This reminds me of that; starting out our campaign with shoddy equipment. Heh, we've even had our stats reduced since being recompleted–"

"Don't be ridiculous," said Dilan, pointedly avoiding looking at his spear's depressingly chipped head or its wooden shaft, warped by age and the stress of repeatedly being thrust into a headlong-charging wild boar. "This isn't a game."

(And you know, technically, he's not wrong…)

"True," acknowledged Aeleus, "But you realize, don't you, that there is a boss-fight awaiting us at the end of this 'stage' as it were."

"Pardon?"

"The Heartless are being directed by someone. This is too sudden and strong an assault to be a random surge of darkness, and its occurrence coinciding with our arrival here couldn't possibly be an actual coincidence. The Heartless were called here by someone. Now, whom do we know who have the capacity to direct the Heartless and a motive to attack this particular world?"

"Maleficent," growled Dilan.

"Indubitably," agreed Aeleus.

Elsewhere:

"Yo! Are you Mrs. Collins?" Lea called out to a middle-aged, but much more youthful-looking, woman who was pulling weeds out of a strawberry patch next to her house. Assisting her was her daughter, a teenaged girl whose hair was covered by a bandana tied around her head.

"Aye, I'm Harriet Collins," replied the woman, standing up and smacking the dirt off of her hands. "Pru, go in and fetch a drink for them, will ya dear?"

"Yes Mama," assented the girl before running inside.

"So who're you and what can I do for ya?" asked Mrs. Collins.

"I am Even," said Even, "And this is my colleague, Lea. We're searching for someone we were told came this way some years ago, and as the day is growing long we will require lodging for the night, and you were recommended to us."

"Well you're welcome to stay for the night if you lend a hand with tonight's chores, provided you don't mind sharing a bed or one of you can do with camping on the floor," replied Mrs. Collins as Pru came running back out with two mugs full of water.

"I call bids on the floor," Lea said immediately. "Seeing as Even's just gonna play the 'respect your elders' card to get the bed anyways," he added with a cheeky grin. He accepted his water from Pru with a word of thanks and commented, "Pru…that's a neat name, kid. Is it short for something?"

"Prunella," said Pru proudly.

Even almost choked on his water. "Ahem, Prunella…like the flower?"

"Yeah! Mama named me after a mysterious stranger's horse," said Pru in conspiratorial tones. Clearly, this was a story that she greatly enjoyed telling to new people.

"Mysterious stranger, eh?" asked Lea, exchanging a significant glance with Even, who nodded. "Now, this is just a guess, but did he wander this way…oh, I don't know…twenty-ish years ago? Did he have pink hair, a scythe, and an insufferable–hey, what's up with your kid?" asked Lea, switching rails mid-sentence and pointing at Pru, whom at the mention of 'pink hair' had gasped and tugged down at the edges of the bandana covering her head.

"Lea…" murmured Even, gesturing at Mrs. Collins. Lea looked up, and beheld a stunned expression on the woman's face.

Lea opened his mouth to say "Whatever I said wrong, I'm sorry," but Mrs. Collins held up a hand to cut him off.

"Come inside," she said gruffly, grabbing Pru by the hand and taking her inside. Within was a typical peasant's living quarters, with a fireplace and a cooking pot, a small wooden table that could seat four, two doors behind which presumably lay the mother's and daughter's bedrooms, a wooden-framed cot for a lodger, and a few odds and ends. One thing that stood out was a ceramic vase on the mantle, holding a single red rose in full bloom. As soon as they saw it, Lea and Even felt a sense of familiarity. Though beautiful it appeared to be an ordinary rose, but Marluxia's presence hung about it unmistakably.

"He did come through here," Even said decisively.

"Aye. Came and went, and I never saw hide or hair of him since," said Mrs. Collins. "He gave me that rose as a reward for telling him how to find someone who could tell him about the Evil Fairy what lives up on the Forbidden Mountain."

"Maleficent…well, can't say I'm surprised that they'd be connected," remarked Lea. Then his eyes widened, "Wait, you've had that thing for twenty years, just chilling in a vase of water?"

"Clearly Marluxia had a supernatural affinity for flora even before becoming a…one of us," said Even, "Not surprising. Does it have other magical properties, besides its longevity?" he asked as he took a closer look at the rose. He noted that there were a few petals missing.

"Aye. Pru was born weak and sickly," said Mrs. Collins in a heavy tone, "It didn't seem likely she'd live long enough to see her christening. I took her to the wise woman, the same I had directed the Red Rider to, along with his rose as it was the only thing of value I had to offer as a gift for her help. She told me to keep the rose, as ill fortune befell those who gave away the gifts of the Fey, and advised me to clip some of its petals, crush them into a paste with my own milk," here Lea looked grossed out and Even raised an eyebrow, "and feed it to her. And she's been the healthiest of children ever since. I never knew the Rider's name, so as the next best way of honoring him I gave my daughter his horse's name…helps that I'd always thought it a pretty one, anyhow," said Mrs. Collins with a faint blush, "And ever since then…Pru, show them. Go on, it's alright."

Pru seemed reluctant, but she obediently undid her bandana and pulled it down. Her brown hair was shot through with streaks of vibrant pink.

"Well, if there was any doubt, that kills it," said Lea. "Which way's this wise woman live?"

"She passed away years ago, "said Mrs. Collins sadly, "But if the Rider sought to confront the Evil Fairy then I doubt he is still alive, either. Otherwise there wouldn't have been that nasty business with the Princess twelve years ago."

"You guys friends of his?" asked Pru.

"Uh…friends would be stretching it," said Lea honestly. "We knew him. Used to work with him. Trying to find him out of some weird sense of comradely obligation, kind of–"

Lea's awkward sort-of-explanation was cut off by a shriek of terror from outside, quickly followed by others, as well as crashing, smashing, and other assorted sounds of violence underscored by some distinctly inhuman-sounding noises. With a flash of flame the Keyblade was in Lea's hand, and without taking a moment to acknowledge the Collins' gasps of surprise he ran back outside. Even moved to follow but Lea barked, "Stay with them, Even, I'll handle this."

And away he dashed.

Back at the Enterprise:

Creepers, Dusks, and to Ienzo's bewilderment a handful of Assassins and a few Nobodies he didn't recognize were all rushing towards the ship. With little other recourse that he could think of, he got outside and stood atop the ship's hull, and began casting.

"THUNDER!" he cried out, arms spread out in front of him. "FIRE! BLIZZARD! AERO! GRAVITY!" Elemental energies in various forms rained down on the encroaching threat to commendable effect, but just casting those few spells exhausted Ienzo's shrunken reserve of magical power and left him feeling winded. And more than half of the mob was still coming strong, their lack of feelings leaving them undaunted by the sudden and violent demise of several of their fellows. Ienzo felt fear–stark terror, really–tearing at his heart for the first time in many years, but he refused to go down panicking and began furiously working through any possible solutions in his head. In the end, only one viable option occurred to him. "Tron! Get us the heck out of here!" he ordered as he dropped back down to the side and hurried back inside the ship.

The ship lifted and took off through the air, quickly moving in the direction of the castle Dilan and Aeleus had set out for that morning. Ienzo stumbled into the bridge and dropped into the nearest seat. He almost immediately tumbled back out and scrambled for cover when an Assassin tore through the door and spilled into the room, followed by two more of its kind. "Warning! Intruders on the bridge!" Tron cried out superfluously.

Calling upon the power of sheer desperation, Ienzo threw up his hands and screamed, "Flare!" Multicolored bursts of light sprang from his hands and bombarded the lead Assassin, knocking it back into the other two. Unfortunately, it destroyed none of them and left Ienzo too exhausted to stand. He crumpled on the spot, resigned to the fact of his imminent demise…but it didn't come. He heard sounds of battle from nearby and weakly lifted his head to catch a glimpse, blurred though it was by his eyelids refusing to open all the way, of a figure in black garb fending off the Assassins. He struggled to get to his feet, but he passed out instead…

Aaaaaaaaaand back at the castle:

"Bugger all!" raged Dilan when his spear snapped in half as he attempted to impale a downed Air Soldier. Acting on his and Aeleus's advice, King Phillip had ordered everyone to evacuate the castle. Predictably, the Heartless had followed their quarries, and the castle guard had succeeded in surrounding them in the courtyard. "Remind me why we left our weapons on the ship?!" he demanded of Aeleus. Unlike Phillip and his guard, who had formed a perimeter around the mob of Heartless and were pressing in on them, the two apprentices of Ansem the Wise had gotten dragged into the middle of the horde (which Dilan considered depressingly consistent with their luck) and were fighting them back-to-back.

"You thought it would be too rude to call on a king and queen both armed and without an appointment," Aeleus reminded him dryly.

"Aeleus, old friend, if I ever so much as suggest stepping off of the ship without proper weapons in our hands in the future, no matter what my reasoning, do me a kindness and box some sense into me!" Dilan ordered, using a flurry of punches, kicks, and elbow strikes to fend of the Heartless that were mobbing his side.

"Duly noted…can I get that in writing?" his monolithically-framed friend asked as he sent a whole line of Armored Knights flying back with a single backswing of his hand-axe.

"Yes, let's do make jokes now!" Dilan snarled. "AEROGA!" he howled, creating a focused gale that punched a hole through the swarm of Heartless. Glancing over his shoulder, Aeleus saw his comrade's handiwork and without hesitation scooped Dilan up even as he nearly collapsed on the spot, and he ran for the relative safety of the guard's perimeter.

"Flora! Fauna! Merriweather!" called out a single voice, cutting through the din of battle. King Phillip snapped his head towards the sound, and saw with horror that his wife had returned to the danger zone. Before he could shout for her to get clear before the Heartless mobbed her, there was a flash of light above her. The Queen's oldest and dearest friends, the Three Good Fairies, appeared.

"Oh my!" gasped Flora in shock.

"Oh, dear me!" joined in Fauna.

"Merciful heavens, this will never do!" said Merriweather sternly. "Let's clean up this mess, shall we girls?"

"Oh, oh! Can we try those magic words Mr. Merlin's friend uses?" asked Flora.

"Sure, why not?" said Fauna gamely.

"Altogether now!" ordered Merriweather.

"Bibbity! Bobbity! BOO!" intoned the trio as they brandished their wands.

A fireworks display of red, green, and blue fairy-lights exploded amongst the Heartless, replacing them with frogs, rabbits, doves, flower bouquets, various pieces of iconic Renaissance-era statuary and, for whatever reason, a bewildered-looking woman lying down in a box on wheeled legs with her head and feet sticking out.

"Hmmm…I'm not sure we did that exactly right," remarked Fauna.

"Oh well, at least we got those nasty Heartless out of here," said Flora.

"Indeed you did," said King Phillip, sheathing his sword and stepping forward to greet them. "You've saved us again, Good Fairies, and I can't thank you enough."

"Pish-tosh, it was nothing, dear," said Merriweather with no small measure of satisfaction.

While this was going on, Aeleus and Dilan, the former supporting the latter, limped away to a secluded area. "Right. First we need better weapons, then we should head for the Forbidden Mountain at once," Dilan decided immediately. "We should probably grab Lea, and then–"

"Dilan," said Aeleus in a well-practiced but seldom-implemented 'shut up and listen to me' tone of voice. "The first thing we need to do is rest. This is the most we've exerted ourselves for some time, and you can't even stand up on your own."

"I can stand just–oof!" cried Dilan as he pushed himself off of Aeleus and promptly fell on his own face. "This doesn't prove anything, I just lost my balance is all," he growled.

"Be that as it may," said Aeleus, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice, "It's already late in the day. After our assistance I'm sure Their Majesties won't mind putting us up for the night, and in the morning…what is that?" he asked as a howling wind kicked up. Aeleus and Dilan, and Phillip, Aurora, all their guards, and the Three Good Fairies all looked up to see a Gummi ship of unusual and distinguished design flying in and stopping to hover directly above them. The archers among the understandably skittish guard nocked their arrows and aimed at the ship, but Aurora hastily ordered them all to stand down.

"I know Their Majesties already know of other worlds," remarked Dilan, "But still, letting a bunch of locals get an eyeful of an inter-worldly vessel like this, it feels like it's breaking some kind of important rule."

"An important rule?" Aeleus echoed.

"Aye…a very important rule…remember when Xemnas told the Organization that the most important rule for field missions was not to be seen by the natives?" Dilan asked. Aeleus nodded. "Remember what he called it?"

"The Prime Directive," replied Aeleus, smiling at the memory of their former Superior's over-the-top cheesiness.

"Well, let's see what was so bloody urgent that Ienzo couldn't just call our mini-coms," said Dilan wearily, forcing himself up in defiance of his achy knees.

And back at the village:

Lea had been ready for anything, or so he thought. He had been prepared to face a mob of Heartless, and while a pack of Nobodies was unlikely it wouldn't have surprised him too much. If it had been a Xehanort, or even the Xehanort, he would not have been shocked. Even though he knew it was highly unlikely that he would just happen to show up here, and while he was self-aware enough to know that seeing him again would make him freeze up again, if only for an instant, Lea had already come to terms with the possibility that it was Isa, perhaps sent to 'deal with him' so that Xehanort had one less errant Keybearer to worry about.

But then, perhaps it was just a wandering band of marauders or barbarians, or possibly an invading troop from another kingdom on this world? Lea was certain he could handle anything that might be assaulting the village, and was confident he would be no stranger to whatever breed of monster it was. After all, he had seen and fought all kinds of strange and unlikely things in the last eleven years.

He was wrong, it happened, because one thing he hadn't expected to be confronted by was a horde of, for want of a better word…trees.

Yes, trees. Distinctly wooden and decidedly not-in-any-way-shape-or-form carved by Man, they were definitely inexplicably (but most likely magic was involved) ambulating trees, though very short one. The tallest among them couldn't be more than five feet tall, and they had somewhat anthropic shapes; two arm-like branches that each terminated with three long claw-like woody digits, and a torso that split into two trunks not unlike legs, with a bushy topping of leaves over their 'heads' resembling hair, in function if not in form. They also featured deep recesses ringed by very sharp wooden 'fangs', clearly intended to serve as mouths, and Lea was guessing that the burning green lights were their eyes. Green, not yellow, and they didn't have an Emblem of any kind that he could see, so he was confident they weren't some hitherto unrecorded breed of Heartless. Whatever they were they were not friendly, given that they were chasing villagers, harassing other animals, and tearing up everything manmade they could get their branches on, all the while howling some weird, woody-sounding, guttural battle-cry.

It took an instant for Lea, long accustomed to the chaos and confusion inherent to combat, to take in the scene, process his instinctive hesitation at encountering the unknown, and resolve himself to carry forward without a shred of trepidation. In fact, Lea broke out a wild grin, for this was going to be an easy fight despite the fact that there were easily a few dozen of them. They had numbers…but he had the elemental advantage, as it were.

"Fira!" he cried, conjuring a fireball and lobbing it at a cluster of tree-creatures as he charged the nearest loner, slashing it in half with his Keyblade as he ran past it. The fireball exploded and the tree-creatures were quickly consumed by flames. For trees they were quick on the uptake; all over the village they stopped what they were doing and turned as one, rushing Lea and screaming what he assumed were supposed to be oaths of vengeance for their fallen compatriots. "Come and get it!" Lea challenged eagerly, "Y'all as good as kindling, so come and get the charcoal treatment!"

With fire spells and Keyblade, Lea lashed out at every wood-man that came within his range, like a deranged woodchipper with flamethrower attachments. After several minutes passed, it occurred to Lea that he had already destroyed at least twice as many of them as he had originally observed, and he realized that they were still streaming in from the woods surrounding the hamlet.

'Crap,' he thought when he went to cast another Fire and it fizzled out; he was tapped dry. He switched to a two-handed grip on his weapon and shifted gears, going from rapid strikes to wide, arcing swings to cleave as many targets with each movement. But it wasn't enough; Lea had power in spades, enough to end most fights pretty quickly, but he was lacking in stamina. As a Nobody that drew his power from Nothingness, his energy had been inexhaustible; it was just a question of how much magic his body could handle at once, as he had learned the hard way in Betwixt-and-Between. Now that he was a mortal man once more, he had come to the sobering realization that he hadn't done much to improve his physical constitution over the years. Most of his missions he had completed by relying on speed and overwhelming firepower…pardon the pun. As a human, he tired much quicker than he remembered, something Yen Sid had tried to address with his training. He'd made marginal returns; he could outlast Kairi more often than not, but she was a relatively inexperienced combatant. On both occasions that he had convinced Riku to spar with him, he had been utterly trounced swiftly and decisively. But that's a story for another time, so I must digress.

First, a few tree-creatures started getting in lucky hits wherever he was open, then as his swings became slower and his footing less sure the 'lucky hits' get more frequent and more painful; shallow grazes gave way to deeper slashes and, once or twice, an agonizing puncture that he was certain had left splinters in the wound. Soon, rather than the tree-creatures landing lucky hits it was Lea who was making lucky blocks. He went from the offensive to the defensive for the first time (in real combat, that is) in longer than he cared to remember. Having never exhausted his magical energy before, as he hadn't known any magic before becoming a Nobody and since being recompleted had only used magic in practice situations, Lea wondered what would happen to him if he tried to force out one more spell, something Yen Sid had warned him and Kairi to never even attempt.

Before Lea could do something stupid and reckless (again) a freezing cold wind blew through and flash-freezed a bunch of the tree-creatures. Knowing an opening when he saw one, Lea immediately began attacking the frozen foes, shattering them with his Keyblade much more easily than he could cleave through one normally. He finally found himself in an open space, though the frantic tree-creatures were scrambling to surround him. He also found the unlikely cause for his salvation; Even, who was emitting the arctic wind from his bare hands and contrarily had a sheen of sweat on his face. When Lea reached his side, Even dropped his hands and doubled over, panting. "I…seem to recall…that being…a lot easier…damn…" he wheezed.

"C'mon, man!" said Lea, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. "If we stand still we'll…too late, crap," he muttered when the monsters surrounded them. They had their back to someone's house, facing a semi-circle of wood-monsters several ranks deep. "Don't suppose you brought a weapon?" he asked of his older companion.

"Just the closest thing to a shield Mrs. Collins had," said Even, reaching in his lab coat and producing…a large cooking pot lid.

Lea facepalmed. "Dude…well, at least you'll score a memorable epitaph. 'Here lies Even, he died with cookery in hand and splinters in his eyes'."

The snarling, gnashing wood-demons began to rush forth, Lea and Even raised their weapons defiantly, and then–

To Be Continued…

A/N: Because I'm a sadistic creep, that's why :)