And this is chapter two. Thank you BookGal26, SkyWarrior2, Burai Stelar, Silverking32, and KeybladeMaster97 for reviewing last chapter!

Chapter Two: Keybladers

Mala watched the streets with eyes that shone from the shadows. She reached her hands behind her and gingerly fingered the bow strapped across her back and the arrows stored in the quiver. Her blue orbs shifted over the people from the dark alleyway as they walked calmly through the streets, unaware of the thief lurking in the shadows. She smirked. Now's as good a time as any, she decided silently.

Looking around cautiously, she quickly took out flint from the sack that hung about her waist and lit a small fire. She removed the bow from her back and strung an arrow to it in one fluid motion. She dipped the tip of the arrow into the pot of oil she'd set out beside her, then shoved it into the flames. She stood and stomped out the flames at the same time that she let the arrow fly lose. The flaming projectile flew on a clear path towards her marker, thankfully uninhibited by any human bodies. She quickly shimmied up the side of a building as the arrow hit the crate she'd placed earlier, causing it to explode into flames. She heard cries of alarm, and her smile grew. All according to plan.

She slipped down the side of the building as the people around the vicinity were worried about the explosion and the hungry flames that had come with it. She opened her pouch and reached inside the stall she'd landed by, managing to pull out and place inside it a loaf of bread and a small fruit while its owner was away. Then she dashed down a different alleyway nearby, running through the familiar twists and turns.

Only after she'd put a fair distance between herself and the scene did she allow herself to stop and rest. She had a wide grin on her face as she slid the bow back onto her back. "Another perfect crime," she commented, opening her pouch and pulling out the fruit. Of course, she'd had plenty of time to practice.

Since she'd been a little girl, Mala had been forced to fend for herself. Orphaned at a young age, she'd quickly learned how to survive on the streets. An old beggar man had been the one who had taught her how to use a bow and arrow, and she was quick to add her own twists to the fighting style. Now, at sixteen, she prided herself on the creativity and efficiency of her crimes.

She had just bitten into the fruit when something slammed into her from behind. She stumbled forward, losing hold of the food, as she heard raucous laughter behind her. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I make you lose your prize?"

Mala's eyes narrowed in fury. "What do you want, Scree?" she hissed, whipping around and reaching for the bow once more.

Before her stood a burly looking boy, the one she'd called Scree, with a few others standing behind him. That made her rethink about taking them on. Scree, she could handle; an entire group of his goonies, she could not.

Scree obviously saw the sudden hesitation in her eyes, because he let out another laugh. "Oh, is the great thief intimidated?"

She knew better than to tell the truth to him. "Why would I be scared of you?"

He smirked. "That's a yes." Mala's glare simply intensified. Her hand closed around the bow, but she didn't remove it just yet. Scree's smirk never faltered, and he leaned forward until his rank breath blew in her face. "Tell you what; you give me your food, and I'll let you go."

"Fat chance." With that, she quickly removed the bow and pulled out an arrow, launching it into the midst of the gang. She then spun on her heel and ran away, closing her pouch in the process. She knew the arrow wouldn't have kept them busy for very long, so she tried to take as confusing a route through the alleys as possible.

Mala was proved right when she heard the sound of footsteps rapidly gaining on her. "Quick! Don't let her get away!" Grimacing, she scaled the side of a small building, running along its roof before jumping down into the open streets. She hoped, perhaps, she could blend in with the crowd and escaped notice.

She had just slipped her bow back onto her back when two goonies appeared from the alleyway not far off. She ducked her head quickly, trying to slink into the throng of people walking through the streets. Unfortunately, no other people had weapons like she did strung safely across their backs. They'd reached her in no time, grabbing her as she tried to run and holding her while they waited for their leader to arrive.

Scree wasn't far behind, his face twisted with fury. "I should thrash you for that. But if you apologize and hand over your food like a good little girl, maybe I'll let it slide."

"In your dreams," she hissed, and spat in his face.

She was sure his goonies were shocked at her brashness as the boy wiped saliva off his face. His eyes burned with fury, and he hissed, "Fine by me!" Then the first blow connected with her stomach. She gritted her teeth against a cry of pain; showing weakness in front of these guys was never a good thing. She braced herself for the next blow.

So she was surprised when Scree's arm was caught by someone else. "What do you think you're doing?" a male voice asked.

Both Scree and Mala turned their gazes to the person who'd stopped the thug's assault. It was a teenage boy, who, if Mala's judgment was correct, was about 18 or 19 years old. He had black hair, and a sword was strapped in a baldric across his back. His amber eyes glittered with an odd light that made her shiver.

Scree jerked his arm away. "I think I'm punishing a little brat," he responded. Mala felt indignant at the comment, but chose not to retaliate.

"Really?" came the boy's skeptical reply. "And you need this many people to do it?"

"Well…" Scree faltered, unsure of how to continue.

The boy snorted, looking unimpressed. "Are you really that incapable of fighting for yourself?"

"I can fight!" Scree snapped in response.

The boy rolled his eyes. "Then why don't you let her go and fight fair?"

"I have a better idea." Scree's eyes glittered with the light of a challenge. "How about I fight you instead?"

Amber eyes narrowed. "Without I weapon? Really? I don't think you want to do that."

Scree lunged forward, crying, "I'll show you!" The boy sidestepped, letting the larger boy fly past him and land with a thud on the ground.

"Oh, yes, you definitely showed me," the boy responded sarcastically.

This only increased Scree's fury. He dashed forward once more, roaring a challenge with his fist pulled back. Once more, the boy easily avoided the assault, this time also lashing out a leg to catch the other's foot. Scree fell flat on his face, much to Mala's amusement.

The black haired boy stood over him. "Do you give up yet?"

"Of course not, you bastard."

The stranger's eyes glittered with frustration. "Why? You won't win."

"Yes, I will!" Scree barked back. He jumped up, lunging for a third time towards the boy.

"Then you'll learn the hard way!" the stranger shouted back. This time, as he dodge Scree's attack, he jerked the blade from its scabbard. Runes flashed on the sword as the stranger swung it towards the boy, and, for a few moments, Mala thought the weapon would cut through him. However, the boy flipped the blade at the last second so that only the flat of the weapon hit his opponent, though from the sound of the loud smack it was hard enough.

Scree looked up at the stranger from his unceremonious place on the ground. "Get out of here!" the boy barked. The gang leader was quick to obey. His goonies looked after him in stunned surprise for a few moments before racing after him, releasing Mala in the process.

"Hey, thanks for that," Mala told him, grinning.

"Don't read anything into it," the stranger hissed back, slipping the weapon back into its scabbard. "I just don't like weaklings who think they're better than everyone else."

Mala frowned; that wasn't a great attitude to have. "Well, you showed him a thing or two, anyways," she offered.

He shrugged, turning and answering without looking at her. "He wasn't that great and opponent.":

"Well, even so, I owe you," she told him. He grunted. Beginning to grow frustrated at his lack of response, she extended a hand, saying, "I'm Mala, by the way."

"Ok."

"…Aren't you going to tell me your name?"

The glanced back at her. "Why does my name matter?"

"Geez, I just wanted to know," Mala replied, lowering her proffered hand.

The boy snorted, then, after a few moments, replied, "Gillick."

Both of their heads shot up at the sound of another voice being raised. "Look! Keybladers!"

"Really?" Mala exclaimed in surprise. She looked in the direction of the town's entrance, then turned her eyes back to Gillick. She was surprised to see him hurrying away. "Wait!" she cried. "Aren't you going to see the Keybladers?"

He paused, looking at her with dark eyes. "Like I said, I don't like weaklings who think they're better than everyone else." With that, he hurried off.

Mala was appalled at his response. The Keybladers were the ones who protected them; that was their job. She had a massive amount of respect for them; for a long time, she'd even considered the idea that she may be able to become one of them. It was a great honor, to be chosen by the Keyblade.

She turned and headed off, in the opposite direction of Gillick, to meet the Keybladers.

Gillick didn't slow his pace until he'd managed to put a large distance between himself and the town. He glanced back behind him, then sighed heavily. He didn't want to be anywhere Keybladers were. He couldn't take it.

He looked to the sky. "I wonder…if I could still do it…" Then he shook his head. "No…don't think about it." He looked to his hand. He wasn't even sure if he could call his Keyblade anymore. It'd been two years since the last time he had, and, well…

He shook himself out of his memories. "It doesn't matter," he growled to himself. "Just keep moving. Keep living. That's all that matters." Gingerly touching the hilt of the sword that hung across his back, he strode off once more. All he wanted to do…was escape the Keyblade, and everything that came along with it.

"What do you want, Xuren?"

The speaker, a man with pieces of armor strapped across his body and his eyes hidden by his hair, posed the question to the man who'd entered. His hair was spiked low, and a shawl hung over his shoulders to cover the armor that lay beneath. His yellow eyes glittered with a manic light. "Just thought I'd tell you some interesting news I heard, sir."

The man snorted. "Well? Get on with it," he growled, knowing Xuren wouldn't continue the account without an obvious show of interest.

Xuren's slightly crazed smile grew. "Well, the Light Army has been gaining quite a bit of support."

Disgust filled the other man. "How can they fall for those liars' words? Don't they see how blinding the light really is?"

"It seems they went to another town were they were very happily received," Xuren continued, as if the other had never spoken.

"And what is the point of telling me this?" the other man growled quietly, taking a steadying breath to control his mounting anger.

"Well, it seems like we need to do something about it, doesn't it?" Xuren shrugged, his manic yellow eyes glittering with fiendish delight. "Of course, you're the boss."

"So it would seem," the other agreed. "Dispatch a few of our Keybladers at once."

Xuren nodded, then added, "By the way, there were accounts that he was there."

The other man snorted, unconcerned. "He can do nothing to us. I doubt he even cares."

"But if he does interfere…?"

"Destroy him."

The crazed grin spread across Xuren's face. That was exactly the answer he'd wanted to hear. "Of course, sir." With that, he headed off. Behind him, he didn't see the long bangs that hung over the man's face part, allowing one blood red eye to gleam in the darkness.

Ok, that's the end of chapter two. Review, please?