Here's chapter forty - three. Thank you Vixro, Destiny's Call, caitlinkeitorin, and explosivebagel for reviewing last chapter!

Chapter Forty - Three: Shattered

Mala stared in shock. Gillick's…a Keyblader? Her mind tried to comprehend the impossible sight before her. But…how? Why? He hates Keybladers!

But she realized that little pieces of information, pieces she couldn't quite fit together, were now combining in a way that seemed to make more and more sense. His eyes, which were a color supposedly of someone touched by darkness; that Dark Army Keyblader, Xuren, calling him his 'old friend'; his battle with Trevor; how he knew so much about magic; why there were times when he inexplicably reminded her of a Keyblader.

If he fought Trevor, he must be a Dark Army Keyblader. But they were fighting the Dark Army now, and he was fighting against them. And he's always said he hated Keybladers…or was that a lie? And why hasn't he used his Keyblade before now? Her mind was just growing more and more confused.

Mala looked around her. Most of the people who'd noticed the event were shocked; only a couple of Keybladers seemed unsurprised, either amusement or anger glittering in their eyes. She turned her eyes to his Keyblade. It seemed to be formed of black, white, and gray thorny tendrils, an odd X - shaped gray blade attached at the end. The keychain was a dragon in flight.

She shook her head, closing her eyes tightly to try and stop the spinning. I don't understand. I don't understand. What's going on?

The Dark Keyblader's eyes gleamed with cold amusement. "So, you decided to summon your Keyblade, huh?" Gillick gritted his teeth and didn't respond. His mind seemed blank; he was only aware of the moment, here and now. The Keyblader smirked. "I thought you'd given up the Keyblade, armor - less. But I suppose it's not so easy to run from the past."

Gillick couldn't get himself to focus on the words; couldn't get his brain to function properly again. The only thing he could do was keep the Keyblader from bringing his weapon any closer to him.

The man's amusement faded, to be replaced with annoyance. "Well? Aren't you going to fight back? That was the whole point to summoning your Keyblade again, wasn't it?"

Keyblade…Keyblade… Why was his head throbbing? What was it about that word that made his heart pulse?

The Keyblader's eyes started to blaze with fury. "Fine! If you're not going to fight, then I will!"

All of a sudden Gillick's head cleared, his mind functioning normally again. He jerked into action, whipping to the side as the Keyblader drew back and brought his weapon down towards him. Gillick spun around, using the force he gained from the spin to land a powerful hit to the Keyblader's armored side. The force was enough to knock the air out of him.

Years of training to master the Keyblade flooded back to him, and he lifted the weapon, pointing it towards the sky. "Thundaga!" he roared. Lightning flew down from the sky, striking all around him. The Keyblader who stood before him, along with several others, were struck directly by the blow of magic. The man screeched as the lightning pulsed through his armor, cracking it and the glass on his helmet.

Gillick took advantage of the situation. His weapon became coated in ice, protecting it from the sparks that still danced off the Keyblader's armor, and he lunged forward, stabbing his Keyblade into a crack that had formed just above the man's heart. The Keyblader gave a choking gasp as the frozen point pierced his skin and speared the beating life force that lie beneath. Gillick jerked the Keyblade out quickly, allowing the dark man to fall backwards, lifeless.

Once his opponent was down, Gillick had a few moments of respite. In those moments, the full gravity of what had happened hit him. He looked down at the weapon in his hands, amber eyes beginning to grow wide. The weapon had changed since he'd left the Armies, but…it was still his. His hands shook. I summoned my Keyblade. He couldn't seem to draw his eyes away from the weapon. After all the years I spent trying to escape it, I called the cursed thing back! Why? WHY?

Had it really only been because he needed a weapon? Because he wanted to save himself? I should've just let myself die!

He saw someone come charging at him out of the corner of his eye. He jerked his head upwards, whipping his Keyblade forward to take out his frustration on the unfortunate Keyblader. His blade burst into flames, and he struck mercilessly at her, not even giving her the chance to retaliate. She staggered backwards under the force of his blows. He didn't stop slashing at her, not even after he'd heard her neck snap and she'd fallen lifeless to the ground. He only stopped, panting, when blood pooled freely from cracks in the Keyblader's armor, and the metal that had once encased the mutilated body sagged with nothing to support it but broken bones and destroyed skin.

Gillick stood over her, eyes wide and glaring, his breath coming in ragged gasps and his Keyblade still poised to deliver a downward blow, one foot resting on top of the corpse. He was vaguely aware of people staring at him, fear pulsating from them and keeping them away.

An eerie calm suddenly swept over him, and his eyes narrowed, a glint appearing in them. His emotions ebbed until he felt numb; he allowed nothing, no thoughts, to enter his mind, instead focusing on the familiar, comforting dance of battle. He launched himself forward, spinning around and slashing his weapon across the first armored bodies he met. He blocked a few blows from one and kicked out at another, forcing them back. He forced his Keyblade up through a gap in one's armor, impaling her, and jerked it back out quickly to force away another Keyblader who was converging on him. He ducked beneath a blow, using his Keyblade to swipe his enemy's legs out from under him. He felt a presence behind him and jerked his weapon backwards, the hilt colliding with armor and causing the person to stumble backwards.

"Retreat! Dark Army, fall back!" Gillick's head jerked up at the cry. His mind cleared for a second time, and a thought crossed through it, They underestimated the Silver Fang…but they won't next time.

Then he felt the wild turmoil of his emotions again, and quickly closed himself off. Focus on something else…don't think about it… The comforting numbness returned, and he watched with a dull gaze as the Dark Army Keybladers disappeared into Corridors of Darkness. Then he turned on his heel and stalked off down the battle field.

He heard gasps of shock as he passed the Silver Fang. "You're a Keyblader?" Riun breathed when he passed him. Gillick ignored him. "H-hey, where are you going?" the boy protested, running after him.

"To get my sword," Gillick replied, his tone flat.

Something about the way Gillick had spoken must've caused Riun to stop, staying away from the warrior as he searched the battle field. When he finally found his weapon, lying abandoned on the ground with the ruins in its surface seeming to glitter, Gillick finally dismissed his Keyblade. He picked up the sword, sheathed it, and stalked back to his tent. Once inside, he removed his sword and sheath, placing them in a far corner.

Then there was nothing to distract him from what he'd done; nothing to distract him from the emotions that had been raging through him since he had summoned his Keyblade for the first time in two years.

He couldn't make sense of them. Was he…angry? Sad? Hurt? He certainly wasn't happy; at least that was one thing he could rule out. He closed his eyes tightly, holding his head in his hands. Damn it. Why'd I have to do it? He knew why, he supposed, but that didn't make it any better.

He decided that, more than anything, he was angry at himself. All that time, trying to bury my past, trying to get rid of the corruption of the Keyblade…it was all destroyed in a single moment.

He felt more than saw or heard someone outside his tent. "What?" he snapped without lifting his head.

"Silver wants to see you in her tent." The voice was unfamiliar, but it was taunt with suppressed emotion.

Gillick heaved a silent sigh. Fine. Time to go through with the repercussions of what I've done. He slowly got to his feet, trying to black out his mind like he had before and failing. There's no battle to distract me now, he thought grimly. His mouth pressed into a thin line, he pushed his way out of his tent and made his way through the destroyed Silver Fang camp.

Amazingly, Silver's tent was still standing. He pushed his way inside, surveying all who were there: Allia, who'd had no choice but to stay because of her injuries; Riun, who looked baffled; Mala, who's expression was unreadable; and Silver, whose face showed the signs of barely - controlled fury. "So," she growled, "you're a Keyblader."

Gillick thought he'd feel furious when she said those words; instead, he felt an icy sense of calm. "Used to be."

"Used to be?" Silver barked, standing up abruptly. "How do you explain the Dark Army Keybladers coming here? How do you explain summoning a Keyblade?"

Gillick's calm evaporated into anger. "How the hell should I know why the Dark Army came here?"

"You betrayed us!" Silver snapped. "You told the Dark Army about the X - blade, didn't you? That's why they came here."

"If I was working for them, why would I be fighting them?" Gillick snapped furiously, restraining himself from adding, Idiot.

"He has a point," Allia commented dryly.

Gillick shook. "Why would I work for the people who screwed up my life?"

Silver's anger was marred by confusion and curiosity. "What?"

"Gillick…" He looked to where Mala stood, a cloud of confusion hovering over her. "What…happened? What's the truth?"

Gillick looked away. He couldn't escape the past any more. He'd made it for two years, but he'd slowed down, and it'd caught up to him. Now it was staring him in the face, ready to bring him down. "You want to know the truth? Fine." He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a few moments, then began his story.

He left no parts out; he told his listeners about how he'd first been apprenticed, how he'd first summoned the Keyblade, how Trevor had become a Keyblader. He told them about how he saw the corruption of the Light Army, his defection to the Dark Army, and his realization of the corruption there, as well. He told them about his battle with Trevor, becoming armor - less, and then being given his sword, from there leaving to travel the world, which he'd done for two years before returning home.

The four had listened in silence, which continued on for a few moments after he'd finished. As it stretched further, he looked around at each of them, gauging their expressions. Allia looked intrigued, but nothing more. Riun looked sad and a little nervous, seeming to draw in on himself. Silver still had a look of fury on her face, but it seemed to be strained, as if she were wondering if she should still feel that way. Mala looked sad, stunned, confused, and hurt all in one.

Finally Gillick couldn't take the silence. "Well?" he snapped. "Don't you have anything to say?"

"I suppose it explains some things," Allia commented, though she refused to say more.

"Maybe," Silver growled, her voice hard, "but it changes nothing. Once a Keyblader, always a Keyblader; if nothing else, this battle proved that."

Gillick seethed at the accusation, and opened his mouth to shout back a stinging retort when Mala cut him off. "Gillick." He turned to look at the thief, who slowly lifted her head to look at him. "Why did you lie to us?"

"Oh, you didn't catch that part?" Gillick asked scathingly; he was in no mood to attempt to be gentle. "I wanted to be rid of the Keyblade! I wanted nothing to do with it ever again."

"But you summoned it today," Silver growled. "That's the exact opposite of 'being rid of it', last I checked." No shit, Gillick commented silently, but clamped his mouth shut on the words. Silver's green gaze pierced into his amber eyes. "If you really wanted to be rid of the Keyblade, really didn't want to be a Keyblader anymore, you would've never summoned the weapon again."

"Do you think I had a choice?" he snapped, guilt and anger moving his tongue. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'd lost my sword."

"Lots of normal people lose their weapons," Silver hissed, her voice colder than ice. "They don't have weapons to summon to aid them; they run, they fight with their natural weapons, or they die. But you didn't do any of those, now did you?"

Gillick had no response to that. He could only wish that everything would go away, that he could go back in time and stop himself from summoning the weapon.

But he could never go back.

Never go back… he echoed silently, thinking about what life had been like before the Keyblade. He hardly remembered it.

He was such a fool. How would he ever escape the curse of the weapon, when it had been a part of him for nearly all of his life?

"There is no excuse for what you've done, and none for what you are." Silver's voice jerked him out of his thoughts. "You are no longer a part of the Silver Fang. Get out, before I decide to have you killed instead."

That's the end of chapter forty - three. Please review?