Hear of the Realm: Last Descent
It was the end of the day, the end of a long day. A tall, dark-skinned man with long, flowing white hair sat in his pajamas upon the roof of his Hollow Bastion home, a castle with spires that overlooked the whole of his world. All of which belonged solemnly to him, a king with no surviving family, and no Queen with whom to have heirs.
But as the sun sank lower in the sky, so too did his thoughts sink into morbid reflection upon the day's events. He had done the unthinkable but at what cost he could not yet discern. It was supposed to be absolutely his last experiment, however the end result of it proved truly unique. Ansem would not be sitting here now, lucid minded, and still in human form, if it hadn't. He was-----is!-----the irregularity. The result could not be explained inspite of all his knowledge of the Heartless.
None the less, Ansem recounted over and over again what he had seen happen in the past when the Heartless were fed, and over and over again, compared these beastly recollections to the thing he had done only hours ago.
The light of the evening dimmed as the spidery shadows of Western mountains began to creep their way over the capitol city, and the sky shone a silvery lemon color. Ansem reclined, clinging to a decorative, metal spike with one arm and dangling both his feet over the edge. A chilled gust of wind swept over him, also releasing a flock of about six crows from the gutters of the castle's rooftops into the sunset. Because of the contrasting light, the crude black silhouettes reminded him of the heartless. And, just then, the sting of the wind felt like the Darkness itself.
"How.....refreshing." The man closed his eyes, feeling again the sharp talons of the little critters crawling all over him, puncturing his skin. And though he had deliberately put himself in that position, and was resolute to the end, a sudden, surprise pang of terror had reared up inside him momentarily. But that was only the full reality of what he was doing sinking in, a feeling which could be easily dealt with, he knew, by simply ignoring it. The Heartless engulfed him like an abandoned ham sandwich at a picnic. Little did they seem to care who was their creator and benefactor. Once they understood he was there to surrender, that was it. They tore through his skin. They pulled out his heart. And the lights went out.
The next thing Ansem knew, he was waking up on the ground, soaked for being in a large puddle of water, and chilled through all the way to the marrow of his bones. Still in the dungeons beneath the castle------where the Heartless were kept-------had he blacked out? Ansem examined his hands, and then ran one through his hair, feeling for sprouted antennae. The Heartless were still crawling all over him, stepping on his back as if they barely noticed or cared that he was there. He shoved them off and sat up. His arms were numb all the way up to his elbows from the cold, so he rubbed his hands together and blew into them to strangely little effect. And then at last, pulled himself back to his feet. He surveyed the Heartless; several approached and momentarily sniffed at his boots with their feelers, before heading away to continue their search for edibles elsewhere.
Thus was the start of Ansem's new trouble. Clearly he had lost his heart, but unlike any previous subject in the course of his experiments, he alone did not take the form of one of these creatures.
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AN: This was just an exercise, not actually what I have in mind for how this scene will go down in Heart of the Realm. I has a waaay better idea now. This version is old. (And cliche, in my opinion.) :|