(A/N: Strangely, the hardest part about this chapter was deciding what song to use. One character also turned out much differently than I imagined them, but I think it will all work out for the better. I hope this chapter is still fun to read for you guys, because honestly, I think it's my weakest one so far. But that's okay. Weak chapters happen.)

CHAPTER V

GHOST

Give me the way it could have been.
Give me the ghost that's on the screen.
Give me the way, but not the means,
Give me it all.

Foals, "Give It All"
What Went Down

With her long fingers on the side of his head, she rubbed her thumb over his forehead, beneath the stark white curls hanging in his face. For a brief moment, he could see the lilac sky behind the crimson-haired woman, interrupted by auburn rooves, patched up lazily with spare boards of wood. He knelt on a hard, blue patchwork ground, surrounded by a half-wall of brick, like a courtyard.

"Where am I?" he asked.

The woman smiled. When she grinned, her mouth took her eyes with her; they crinkled under the pressure, nearly getting lost under a stray lock of long, golden-blonde hair. "Your first question isn't 'who am I,' or 'where did I come from,' but 'where am I?' Interesting."

He blinked a couple of times. Now that she mentioned it, who was he? Where did he come from? And who was she?

"Little golden ghost," she said when he said nothing, kneeling down to meet his gaze. They were around the same height; she was, perhaps, an inch taller. It could have been her posture, as well; she held her head high, her back straight, her chest thrusted outward. The woman had a kind face, though the boy couldn't exactly determine how he figured that. "Do you know your name?"

The white-haired boy shook his head. He knew a lot of words—even some words he didn't need to know, like ennui and lurid, but knew no names.

"Do you know how you got here?" she asked when he was, again, silent for too long.

Fearing his silence would come across as standoffish, which was the last thing he wanted to be to the nice-looking woman, he shook his head rather than remain quiet.

"Well, come on then," she said, holding out a hand. "Let's get you some clothes and food, and we can figure the rest out later."

He knew, somehow, he should take her hand—it was customary—but did not know how he knew that. There was so much he didn't know; he felt, somehow, as though he was supposed to know so much more.

Placing his hand on hers gingerly, he noticed her palm was soft, and so was his. She squeezed his hand with her long fingers, the same that had brushed sweat away from his forehead, and, together, they stood.

xxx

"I have, quite literally, never heard that word in my life," Dylan said.

Sheridan. Sheridan. Silas found himself with nothing to contribute; he would have guessed the word was made up. "I think it's a name," he finally said, pinning the word "maybe" to the end of the sentence as if to remind his two traveling companions that he didn't think, for a second, he was any kind of authority.

"You're right," said Araceli. "It's a name. I knew a Sheridan when I was young." She turned the paper over in her hands, careful not to get any of the blood on her fingers. There was nothing on the other side. "Though I doubt there's any correlation."

"Who was he?" Dylan asked.

"Just someone I went to school with."

Araceli placed the paper down on the table, and looked at both Dylan and Silas, one-by-one, in the eyes. If this were anyone else, Silas would have guessed she was looking for a clue on what to do next, but with Araceli, it really felt like she was trying to decide whether the other two knew what she had already figured out.

Silas wasn't wrong. "I don't think Yen Sid is dead."

"I mean… maybe he could've survived losing all this blood, but, like, I found a deer in the woods once who lost a ton of blood in the leg from a hunter, like about this much, and he was definitely dying."

Araceli chose to ignore at least half of Dylan's story. "Yen Sid is the most powerful sorcerer in history," she reminded him, and informed Silas. "Doubtlessly, with his powers of perception and precognitive abilities, he would have anticipated any attack. Furthermore, would they truly violently attack this man in his chair and pluck his body up into the air? There are no blood drip marks beyond this area, and no marks from dragging, either."

Silas glanced at Dylan, and then back at Araceli.

"I considered becoming a detective for a while, before… all this," Araceli said. Wet with blood and all, she stuffed the note into a hidden pocket just between her hip and lower back on the left side of her gray dress. "I don't think Yen Sid is in any kind of trouble, but he wanted someone else to think he was. He wanted someone to think this Sheridan person attacked him."

"Who would he want to think that?" Dylan asked. "Why?"

Araceli could only shake her head. "I don't have all the answers. Yen Sid gets a lot of visitors. I'm certain he's also made a lot of enemies. This is all without considering the very real possibility of this elaborate hoax being entirely directed towards us."

Silas swallowed a lump in his throat. "Have you ever given Yen Sid a reason to not trust you?" he asked in the silence. From what they were telling him back in Twilight Town, the wizard was just an informant to them; they were looking for Keyblade wielders, for whatever reason (which he had to remind himself to poke them for later), and he knew where the Keyblade wielders were. He wasn't even sure if the two of them had any sort of connection to Yen Sid previous to all of this nonsense.

But Araceli bit her lips together.

"Not recently," she half-whispered.

Dylan put a hand on Silas's shoulder, spooking him nearly into shouting out. He wasn't sure how long it was since he had been touched. The other boy just shook his head at him; had he ever seen Dylan looking so serious? Silas was pretty sure he didn't have a serious bone in his body, so whatever Araceli was thinking about was clearly territory he didn't want to wander into.

"I don't think this message was for us," she said, "but we should try to find this Sheridan, anyway."

"What makes you think that?" Dylan asked.

"We owe the wizard a lot, and on the off-chance we were meant to see this note, or he is in any real danger, it's our responsibility to do whatever we can to help him." Araceli ran her hand over the pocket of her dress, and said, "The only complication is that we don't know where to start looking for this Sheridan person."

The three stood in silence in the empty study, each occasionally catching each other's eyes, but never speaking. Silas began to notice a coppery scent in the room. His stomach flipped over when he realized it was probably coming from the drying blood on the chair.

Silas saw for himself not an hour before exactly how vast this universe was; if each star they passed was, truly, another world, there was no way to narrow down the location of this Sheridan person just by guessing. They needed some sort of trail from the pool of blood to wherever he is, and there wasn't any such trail.

"There's King Mickey," Dylan suggested.

Another name Silas didn't recognize. He waited for Dylan to elaborate, but Araceli only crossed her arms over her chest and agreed with him, stating, "That's right; King Mickey studied under Yen Sid's tutelage for quite some time in his younger years. He may have the power to find this Sheridan person using the same tracking skills as Yen Sid."

"And help bring Nico back?" Silas asked.

Araceli nodded. "Maybe. At the very least, if Mickey helps us find Sheridan, we can find Yen Sid along the way. If anyone can find Nico's Nobody with access only to Nico's heart, it's the wizard."

"That one Keyblade master and his two friends also worked under Yen Sid," Dylan suggested.

Araceli said, "If memory serves me correctly, they studied under him to take the Mark of Mastery exam, but didn't exclusively study magic the way King Mickey did. He's our best bet." She paused, scratching the side of her neck. "We can only hope he's where he's supposed to be."

"Where's that?" Silas asked.

"Disney Castle," Araceli responded. "If nothing else, we can rest there."

xxx

She called herself Nissa.

It was a beautiful-sounding name, and familiar, somehow. Still, the boy wasn't sure he ever met another woman named Nissa in his life. He wasn't even sure if Nissa was a real name, to begin with. But it must have been, or else this person wouldn't have it, and he didn't see any reason why she would give him a fake name.

Nissa bought him some spare clothes from a shop not far from the courtyard while he hid between two buildings to not "draw attention to himself." He dressed in the clothing, and found it fit quite comfortably; it consisted of a sleeveless gold shirt, a short, white overcoat, matching white shorts, and golden socks and tennis shoes. It was basic, but pleasing in how well it all worked together.

She told him there was food where she was staying, which was on the other side of town. Nissa led him through the quiet streets, and neither spoke. Occasionally, he thought he saw a flash of bright, yellow eyes from the corner of his vision, but every time he snapped his head back, nothing looked back at him. His imagination, he decided. If he really couldn't remember anything, he probably had a lot of brain damage.

They don't have to walk for long before any evidence of human inhabitation is completely absent from their path. The hard, metal floor makes way to similarly hard, similarly metallic walls. Exposed pipes jut out from every which direction; as soon as they reach a solid, stone path, the golden pipes continue to interrupt the tall, blue mountain walls.

What an interesting town.

It's a long walk before they finally reach a cavernous pit, like an empty mote. In the middle of the barren wasteland is what looks like a run-down castle; colored in all grays, browns, and blues, the various towers look hardly stable, supported only by exposed silver pipes. An odd, red heart-shaped symbol adorns the center tower, with what look like thorny vines crossing over the center. He could have been wrong, but the boy thought one of the collapsed, completely inhabitable buildings at the base of the tower was actually the remains of a bridge.

"It's actually quite cozy," Nissa said, putting her hands on her hips and smiling.

Nissa looks quite beautiful out here; the blacks and blues of her outfit seem to almost match the tower, save, of course, for the small hints of gold. She wears a sleeveless blouse in navy with a pair of black shorts, barely covering the swell of her hips. Her shoes, heels, which didn't seem practical given all the walking they were doing, was the same glittering gold as the choker around her long neck. The woman's black jacket only accentuated the shining of the gold.

She turned to him, seeing him stare. "You seem afraid," she said.

He shook his head. If he feared anything, it was offending this woman. Not only did she just exude power, she walked two miles in heels without a single complaint and had the courtesy to scoop a naked, amnesiac boy off a courtyard, clothe, and feed him without looking for so much as a "thank you." There had to be a catch. In the meantime, he wanted to stay on this woman's good side.

"Good. I'm not the one you need to be afraid of." She paused, and glanced back out at the castle.

"This is called Villain's Vale," she informed him, letting her arms drop to her side. "A little while ago, it was used as the base of operations for a very wicked queen. She was driven out, along with all of her criminal buddies. There's this organization in town—they call themselves the Radiant Garden Restoration Committee—who are working on preparations to knock this place down and make room for more homes. I'm squatting here until they do."

Radiant Garden. That must be the name of the town. How could something so sinister-looking exist in a town with such a beautiful name?

"It's just me for now, but it didn't used to be." Her smile grew sad for a moment before she pulled it back into place. "So I have an extra room. You're welcome to use it."

"How do I repay you?" he asked. He didn't mean it in the "how could I ever repay you?" way. He meant it the way he said it; the boy knew there was some kind of ulterior motive for this woman's kindness, because why else would a total stranger take care of you like this?"

Nissa didn't seem surprised by the question. "I'll need you to run some errands for me," she said. "There are some bad people out there that need to be stopped."

xxx

The Gummi Ship ride to Disney Castle was half as long as the previous drive, but every bit as magical (excepting, of course, Dylan's incessant snoring). When they touched down, he woke himself up again, and they tumbled out of the ship. Araceli, once again, grabbed something from her pocket, popped it in her mouth and swallowed it. Silas wasn't sure whether he should say anything.

They emerged in an underground garage of some sort, but Silas had little time to look around before Araceli and Dylan led him up a spiraling staircase and out of the ground. Silas could see sunlight through a small opening in the leafy structure in which they emerged.

Outside of the structure was a grassy field, peppered with flowers in pinks, yellows, blues, and reds. From the lawn emerged various topiary shapes, trimmed neatly and precisely. It was a large area, and they seemed to be at the very base of a tall castle—the second Silas saw today—lined with fancy, white columns tied together with filigrees. The rooves were pointed and blue, and seemed to stretch for miles above them.

It was a miniature castle topiary that they stepped out of, Silas realized as he turned around. Interesting.

This King Mickey really took his gardening seriously.

"That's not good," said Araceli.

Silas looked over to where Araceli was staring. She had out her staff, and Dylan held out his large guns. In front of them, ten to twelve Heartless appeared. About three quarters of them were the standard black bug-like creatures Silas had seen twice already, but the rest looked like they were covered in armor, with stupid-looking black shoes that curled at the tips, silver metallic wristbands, a blue and black body suit, and their fingertips red, as if they'd been dipped in blood. These also wore a silver helmet of sorts, much like knights used to wear, except with a curled top, and they bore a heart symbol of some sort on their chests that seemed to be crossed in the middle. Their buggy, glowing yellow eyes peeked out from their helmets, struggling to stay in view as they twitched convulsively.

"Disney Castle's keyhole has been unlocked," she clarified.

Right, Silas knew that. Since there were Heartless here, that meant the heart of the world was in danger. He flexed the muscles in his hand, but his Keyblade didn't show up. That thing really had a mind of its own.

"Do you know where the keyhole is?" Dylan asked, backing away from the slowly advancing group. "Silas can lock it."

Araceli shook her head. "I don't, but King Mickey might."

"You rang?"

From the exposed hallway dropped a small, black blur of a creature, coming straight toward them. Silas's heart nearly stopped in his chest and, in a flash of light, a weight pulled down at his hand. The Keyblade showed up. He figured it must have appeared whenever he felt his life was in danger.

But the creature that appeared wasn't another Heartless—at least, he was 90% sure it wasn't. Though black, it appeared more to be an oversized mouse. He felt almost foolish thinking this, but what else could it be, with its large, round ears and long, black-tipped nose? However, it wore gloves, a red and white outfit full of zippers, and abnormally large yellow shoes. It bore a goofy smile on its face and its eyes were nothing if not cartoon-like.

He carried a large key of his own—the Keyblade. His was plainer than Silas's, with an unembellished gold shaft and key teeth at the very end, the negative space of which seemed to create a crown. The hilt was a standard brown color, surrounded by a silver guard in a squareish shape. A golden keychain dangled from the end, where a mouse head-shaped charm hung from the end.

Immediately, the mouse began swiping at the Heartless. He went after the armored ones, which didn't seem to go down as quickly as the unclothed ones, which Araceli and Dylan tackled, shooting out some pale blue energy and tiny, green-glowing bullets, respectively, at them.

If Silas hadn't felt useless before, he certainly did, now. While a few more of the smaller, feeble black Heartless popped up around them, which he busied himself with trying to destroy, he couldn't help but be in envy of their fighting abilities. How the hell did he summon that magic—that Thundaga—earlier that day? He wished he could recreate it.

In the end, he managed to do away with about four Heartless, suffering only a multitude of scratches on his legs. The mouse creature, King Mickey, he presumed, had made quick work of the armored Heartless, and watched as Silas finished off the remaining creatures.

"A new Keyblade wielder, huh?" he asked with a big grin on his face. His Keyblade disappeared, and he put his hands on his hips. "How long has he been fighting?"

"Since this morning," Dylan said, with a big grin on his face.

"Impressive!" King Mickey said. This made Silas smile.

"He even used Thundaga earlier without meaning to," Dylan bragged for him. "He could use some real training, though."

"If I had time, I would," said the King, a grave expression spreading over his features. "The castle is under attack. I don't know who managed to sneak in and unlock the world, but it couldn't have happened more than a few minutes ago. You two got here just in the nick of time. Would you help me get to the keyhole and seal off the heart of Disney Castle?"

To Silas, it didn't seem as though King Mickey really needed their assistance with this, but he didn't know how strong the Heartless were deeper in the castle. After all, there were clearly more than just those standard bug-eyed black ones.

Still, Araceli dangled the carrot in front of the king. "We'll help you," she offered, "if you promise to help us find somebody. We know you studied under Yen Sid, and he's missing. He left us only a name. Could you track a person by only his name?"

King Mickey's mouth opened in disbelief. He clamped his jaw shut, blinked once hard, and said, "I'd do anything for Yen Sid. If you think this person will help lead you to him, I'll do everything in my power to help you. But first," he glanced back at the exposed hallway of the castle, "the keyhole."

xxx

After filling himself to the brim with macaroni and cheese, courtesy of Nissa's self-admittedly limited cooking skills, his savior had shown him to the room where he could stay for the night. She said they would talk tomorrow, because she assumed, correctly, that he had a lot of questions. It was late, she insisted, and he needed his rest like any other person.

From the inside, Villain's Vale wasn't nearly as destroyed as it was on the outside. Some rooms were missing large chunks of wall, but for the most part, the inside was intact enough to be called livable. This bedroom was one such room; it was quite empty, with only a large bed covered in a hotel-white duvet, a wooden dresser directly across from it with a large mirror, and a nightstand beside the bed with a clock reading the time in violent green light.

There was a small closet here, too, and a bookshelf carrying about a dozen books, but the boy's eyelids were so heavy, he wasn't sure he could keep them open enough long enough to read even the back of a cereal box. He collapsed atop the left half of the bed, and when his head hit the pillow, he heard a strange crinkling sound.

He didn't know much, but he knew that wasn't the noise pillows made. Sitting up, the boy lifted the pillow, and found a small photograph beneath it. Lifting it, he was presented with one familiar face, and one unfamiliar.

The familiar face was Nissa's. She was smiling brightly here, with her blue eyes nearly closed in a grin, and her blond hair just barely below shoulder-length. She wore a pretty, pale blue sundress, and made the peace sign at the camera. She was somewhere sunny—maybe the beach—with a clear, blue sky and a white bird flying just behind them.

There was a man next to her, probably not much older than herself, who he did not recognize. His cheeks were flushed with pink, and he sported brown hair, spiked up in a fauxhawk. The man was rather muscular, and wore a sleeveless black shirt, with one arm around Nissa. Her boyfriend, he expected. His eyes were black, if not dark brown, but full of life with the sun shining in them, causing him to squint.

He turned over the photograph. It read, in messy scrawl, "Nissa and me, Destiny Islands, 3 year anniversary"

Sentimental, this one was.

The boy looked up and ahead, into the mirror above the dresser. For the first time, he got a good look at himself. Pale, pasty skin. Salt-white curls, nearly obscuring cat-like golden eyes. Even in his sunshine-bright clothes, with his narrow build and lack of muscular definition, he looked like a ghost compared to the man in the picture.

He felt like one, too.

Once again, he fell atop the bed, the pillow silent and cool, this time, beneath his head, and looked once more at the happy couple in the picture. Where was this man? He wanted to meet him.

He held the photograph to his chest as he dozed off to sleep.

(A/N: I wanted this chapter to go on for a little while longer, but it's already nearly four thousand words, so I think this is a good place to end it. That's okay, though, because I have most of next chapter planned out, already! I'll try to update fairly soon. Thanks for dealing with a chapter of mostly nonsense. Y'all rock.)