For the first time in a long time, Vanitas left the estate.
Xehanort was going off on an expedition and Vanitas would be there to follow his instruction. Vanitas wasn't nervous or scared, his primary concern being on Void. He left a very specific week by week diet to Olette and made a new scratching post to be kept with the servants.
From the frost covered docks, they sailed with a small group of others Vanitas learned were scientists and assistants. He was quiet for the most part, not willing to speak with anyone who wasn't Xehanort. Courtesy was a given, but the jokes and excitement they radiated were lost to him.
"You see." Xehanort explained as they departed into a jungle thicket. "Unmapped territory and fabled civilizations known for longevity are ideal targets. The fools who rush headlong into deserts are often blinded by the glimmer of gold and become ensnared by traps of their own making."
True, gold did seem to have that effect on people. Vanitas looked around him. The other researchers stumbled over thick vines and chatted among themselves. A tall man carried the brunt of their supplies and silently followed them along. What Vanitas found most interesting was his seemingly natural blue hair.
"Unsuspecting as that lot may be, they are not here for riches. For the true value, is here."
Bent over, Xehanort plucked a small leaf from a bush. Taking it in his own hand, Vanitas stared. A curious scent caught his nose then. It smelled like something sweet, but also burnt.
"Abaddon. Very good for making blood thinner."
One of the assistants came forward at Xehanort's beckon and began picking at the bush, carefully harvesting a sizable jar of them.
"If you know what these are, then is this really uncharted territory?" Vanitas asked.
This earned a chuckle.
"You don't throw yourself entirely into a quest, boy. That is what gets men killed. Think of it as reading a book. You place a bookmark where you left off, and continue when you're ready."
They walked, they camped, samples and herbs were collected, and Vanitas took in the fact that he would have to do this one day on his own. A map of a country was one thing, a map in development was another. Despite growing up around greenery and the loud calling of birds, this place felt different. From the plants to the array of insects that regarded their flesh as dinner. The ointment Xehanort developed warded the worst of them off, but it'd been years since Vanitas suffered a particularly annoying bite. It dredged up thoughts of a time before hearing the rattle of chains. The humidity was the same, as was the mud after a long rain, the smell of rich soil and the cleanliness of a shower under a waterfall.
Their supplies would last them three weeks if stretched as far as possible, but Vanitas could see Xehanort slowing down, something in his back or legs causing him discomfort.
By the middle of the second week, everyone had fallen quiet; tired, and carried one foot in front of the other. Vanitas wasn't as bothered, nor the blue haired man. At that moment, he was thankful for all of Dilan's drilling. His endurance was certainly more than what the others could take.
Something white caught Vanitas' eye and he pointed.
"That looks important."
In the moments that passed, he'd never seen Xehanort look so ecstatic.
It was a small, flat piece of stone seemingly broken off from something bigger. A trail spaced a minute of walking apart brought their group to bigger pieces forming cracked and deteriorated pavement.
Nature had overtaken most of the architecture, leaving time worn statues wrapped in vines and walls surrounded by flowers.
"Your first expedition and you uncover ancient ruins. Good work, Vanitas." Xehanort gripped him firmly by the shoulder and nodded slowly in approval.
Their lack of supplies forced them to turn back for the humble village they departed from. Eager to record and establish the scale of the place, it would do no good if they died of dehydration or hunger. Their trip time was lessened with a clear route planned.
The other researchers talked animatedly among themselves and compared sketches of what they found. Xehanort retired to his own tent, and the blue haired man sat on guard, furthest from their camp fire. Vanitas approached and stood beside him, still feeling shorter even though he was seated on a log.
"What's your name?"
The man looked to Vanitas, blue eyes striking in the light of the half-moon shining down.
"Isa."
His voice was eerily calm, and he blinked slowly. Something silver glinted and Vanitas took note of the studs in his ears, which were pointed. Scarred flesh marked that they had been made that way through some kind of surgery.
Vanitas' stare caught his attention and he obliged.
"I was a pirate of the Lunatic crew. We disbanded after… an unfortunate defeat." He tapped an ear. "A mark of being a true Lunatic."
"Now you haul luggage?"
Isa grinned, showing sharp canines.
"Unlike my brethren, I wasn't allowed death. I was strong, so I was put to work."
"So you're a slave?"
"By law, a slave to man. But eternally a slave to the moon." Isa reached up to the sky, fingers outstretched as though he could reach it.
They were quiet together as Isa put his arm back down.
"Work for me."
Blue eyes turned to Vanitas. Isa's face was hard to read as he had one eyebrow raised and a mouth set in a straight line.
"I was a slave too. But managed to escape. People say it must be fate that someone like Xehanort took me in. So, I think it's destiny that brought me here too." He outstretched his hand. "So work for me."
At this, Isa chuckled.
"I can assure you it isn't that simple. Though if you can break these shackles bound to my name, then I may accept."
"Right." Vanitas dragged. He sighed and placed his hands on his hips. He had to earn what he wanted.
Journal Entry 01,
My old journal was filled. So I got a new one. Xehanort said I could learn all I wanted when we first met, and he wasn't lying.
Looking back, everyone seems so stupid. Accepting their small worlds, willfully sitting in ignorance and roping everyone else along with their idiocy. The Sisters would have kept me in that tiny orphanage, reciting the Word like I had no will of my own, and before that, my masters would have kept all their knowledge to themselves.
The Unda may not have been stupid. But gold made them see less clearly. I should forget them.
