Mira put down her pen and rubbed her eyes. She smiled sadly, recalling her reunion with Ven. He hadn't remembered who she was, exactly, only the impression of her. She was impressed that he could express himself and communicate far easier, but his exuberance was like a wall between them. That, and his close relationship with the other two apprentices. Even though Ven was warm to her, it wasn't enough to fight off her melancholy.

Three weeks had passed since Master Xehanort dropped Mira off at the Land of Departure. Three weeks of feeling like an awkward guest. Three weeks of feeling like she wasn't progressing in anything other than her mounting frustration. It wasn't that the lessons she shared with the other apprentices were bad or subpar – in fact, they tended to be just as engaging as her master's lessons. No, the problem lay within the fact that Eraqus's teaching style was fundamentally different from her master's.

Mira's first major observation was that Master Eraqus had a very different relationship with his students than her master had with her. Whereas Master Xehanort would not answer her questions outright, preferring to make her think critically, Master Eraqus explained ideas fully and told them outright what they should be getting out of the concept. When it came to training, Master Xehanort often trained her to the point of exhaustion or injury at times, but Master Eraqus did not do so with his pupils. Mira bore her master no resentment because he always fixed her up afterward and used the injuries as a lesson on how to heal properly. Yet, Master Eraqus did his utmost to prevent his students from incurring injuries in the first place. He coddled his students, and she resented the close relationship the three apprentices had with him. Master Xehanort's absence stung all the more keenly.

One afternoon when the weather had been nice and sunny, all four apprentices sat in a circle on the grass outside, rather than in the library. They'd read a passage that Master Eraqus had assigned to them about the nature of the heart and were discussing it while they waited for him to show up.

"Did you understand everything Ven?" Aqua asked with a smile, always seeking to be helpful.

The boy flopped on the grass. "I guess. Hearts have darkness and light, but it's bad if a heart is taken over by darkness. Right?"

Terra snorted. "Too long and didn't read it?"

Mira rolled her eyes; that was the pot calling the kettle black. Out of the four of them, she and Aqua were the most studious, whereas Ven and Terra preferred… practical application. Regardless of their poor study habits, she didn't want to waste the opportunity to do as her master had asked and learn something from them. "You know…" Mira began, and Aqua turned her deep ocean gaze upon her. "When I was reading, I didn't see anything about the strength of the heart. Our keyblades depend on our strength, but what is it about the heart that can strengthen or weaken a person?"

"I think that's something we'll discuss later on," Aqua said, tapping her chin.

Mira surreptitiously rolled her eyes. "Yeah probably, but do you have any thoughts on it?"

"Well, I believe our connections are what make us strong; when our hearts are connected, our light is stronger," she finished with a smile.

Mira frowned. "Wouldn't that also make our darkness stronger? Because there's more of it?"

Aqua shook her head. "It doesn't work like that. Only our light has the power to form those kinds of bonds."

"But wouldn't that throw our hearts out of balance?" Mira countered, wishing she could ask her master about this. It was a fascinating notion to consider – would he agree with her, or was there another angle? She stared at the grass intently. "It's possible to have too much darkness, but doesn't the same principle apply to light?"

"Mira, that is not what the master has taught us," Aqua admonished. "Where did you come up with that idea?"

Mira held up her hands, raising a brow at the vehement dismissal. "I'm not saying Master Eraqus is wrong. I was just trying to look at it in a different way…" Privately, Mira wanted to tell Aqua that Master Eraqus was not her master, and that she wasn't staying permanently, but something told her it wouldn't help. She looked to Terra and Ven for support, but they averted their eyes. There was another lesson: the apprentices were close-minded, unwilling to entertain ideas contrary to their doctrine.

Mira sighed, picking at the grass in irritation. "I did have another question," she said quietly. Aqua glanced at her sharply as if to say, 'what now?' What was her problem? Why did questioning different ideas make her so defensive? Mira wasn't trying to discredit her master; she merely wanted to seek answers to her questions and engage in meaningful discussion. She squeezed her eyes shut, unused to being unable to ask questions or pose an idea. It was discouraging and home felt farther away than ever. "It's about the bonds in our hearts. How do you know if your heart is connected with someone else's? Is there some indication that you possess those bonds?"

Terra stared at her like she'd grown a third arm. "You just feel it."

"You feel it…?" Mira deadpanned. How descriptive.

Ven, ever kind-hearted, piped up, "It makes me feel warm and secure, even when I'm alone. Like knowing that there's a net to catch you if you fall." He smiled at Terra and Aqua.

She didn't feel warm… or secure. She could not rely on anyone but her master or herself; what did that mean? But the time for pondering was over; Eraqus had joined them at last, taking a seat and smiling at all of them.

"Good afternoon – I see we are going to be discussing out here. How did the reading go?"

"Actually…" Aqua interjected, pulling their master aside and speaking in low, hushed tones for a few moments. They returned to the group wearing troubled countenances.

"It seems that a simple reading assignment has somehow become something of contention." Eraqus was frowning at Mira. "We need not be so quick to dismiss new ideas; by discussing them, we become well-rounded and knowledgeable," he said, turning to Aqua meaningfully, vindicating Mira for a second. But he wasn't finished. "However, it may behoove all of you to have care as to which roads you allow your mind to wander, lest you go astray."

Mira sighed. She had a feeling that Aqua wasn't trying to be mean or shut her down, but it stung that no one was willing to consider what she suggested. Apparently, she needed to watch what she said. She was starting to understand why her master had told her to tell them nothing, all those years ago. They were not only untrustworthy, but closeminded as well.

Since that day, Mira steered clear of expressing ideas outside of what was asked of her. As a result, her relationship with the other apprentices improved, somewhat. They started including her on activities they did in their free time, and even asked her to spar with them. Whenever they sparred – how she hated sparring with them – Terra was quick to take it to a personal level and Aqua would pause frequently to explain something to her. Rather than pushing her to her limits, the activity was soft and unhelpful at best, and a colossal waste of time at worst. And it got worse if her keyblade decided to play hooky. It didn't happen often, but when it did, the looks they gave her suffocated her in shame. What was she supposed to learn if she wasn't pushed to the edge of her ability? And how was she supposed to feel motivated into fighting when there was no real threat? Terra occasionally came close, but he never crossed the boundary into a real fight. Sparring transformed from physical activity to an exercise in observation and patience.

One afternoon, after losing a spar with Terra due to her keyblade disappearing, Mira sat in the courtyard watching he and Ven spar, idly hoping that something exciting would happen. Maybe Ven would unleash awesome power and flatten Terra on her behalf. Or not. If the Land of Departure was anything, it was peaceful. Peaceful in the way the Destiny Islands were peaceful. In other words: boring. She missed going places, but Master Eraqus was adamant they stay put…

"Aww c'mon Terra! Let's go again!" Ventus pleaded, bringing her thoughts back to the present. The younger boy looked up to Terra; they were almost like brothers, and Aqua was like an older sister. At least to Ven. She had her suspicions about Terra's feelings toward Aqua, but she needed more time to observe them. The three apprentices were so close, and the longer her master was away, the lonelier Mira felt.

"Alright Ven, we'll go one last round – just one, alright?" Mira shook her head, focusing on the struggle in front of her. Ven's footwork was off, again. With that stance, Terra would easily –

He tripped Ven with a swipe of his leg, sending the younger boy sprawling. "Awwrrgghh! Again?! What am I doing wrong?!"

"It's your feet!" she called out.

"Ehh?" he swiveled toward her, wide-eyed, "You saw that?" His cheeks colored in embarrassment.

"She's been here the whole time, you goof," Terra teased.

Mira rose from her perch and approached them while Ven picked himself up off the ground. "It's your stance. It's too wide and you're easily destabilized," she explained clinically, imitating his usual stance and pointing out the areas of weakness. He winced. Then she shifted her posture into the correct position. "This is what you need to be doing."

"Hey, he's getting there," Terra grumbled. "No need to be so critical-"

"No," Ven interrupted. "I need to learn, Terra, or I'll never become a master." He altered his stance and swung at Terra who, naturally, blocked it. "I want to improve!" She smiled at his resolve.

"Alright, that was better Ven," he chimed in, "but you need to make sure to shift your weight to inflict the maximum amount of damage too." They resumed their sparring, but this time, he was holding his own far better. Mira was proud of him and retreated to the castle, unwilling to intrude any longer. Her smile slipped.

Critical. Both he and Aqua ofen said she was too critical. That she needed to soften her demeanor. Why couldn't they see that she was trying to help? She had knowledge and wanted to share it but finding common ground with them was difficult. Mira appreciated their efforts at including her, but she had to force herself to keep smiling when these types of comments came up or refused to look at things from her perspective. It felt like they were trying to change her.

She'd been training in the Land of Departure for seven months before Ventus brought up their shared past. He knocked on her door one afternoon, a question on his lips, his eyes a sea of troubles. His presence was surprising, but not unwelcome.

"Mira, can I talk to you about something?" he asked, wringing his hands together.

"Sure, what is it?" She invited him in, gesturing for him to take a seat.

He didn't answer immediately. Mira resumed pulling her short auburn hair into a half-ponytail, leaving the rest to hang above her shoulders. Choppy bangs fell into her eyes, and she blew them away. "I was wondering if – well," Ven paused, face scrunching into frustration, "do you remember me? I remember you from before I came here. Or at least, I remember pieces of you. Flashes."

She quirked her lips. "What do you remember?"

"Not a lot." He shrugged. "Just mundane stuff, like you cooking or reading. It's just that I can't remember much about my past. And I thought," he glanced her hopefully, "maybe you could tell me what my life was like before?"

Her heart hurt for him, and her next words pained her; after all, who wanted to be the bearer of hope-crushing news? "I can't tell you much, Ven," she said sadly, "because we didn't know each other for long. And by the time we'd met, you were barely responsive. I don't know if you had any memories left or if they're buried deep inside you."

Her words hung in the air between them.

"Oh," Ventus sighed. "So, you didn't really know me?"

"Not really." Truth be told, Terra and Aqua knew him better than she ever did. He was her only company in the beginning while her master was away, and he staved off a little bit of the loneliness that hung over her like a shroud. Mira frowned. "We met…" she paused. He was unconscious at the time; did that count as meeting him? She discarded the thought. "It was on my world, the night I became an apprentice. I saw you and my master there – well, he wasn't my master then –"

"What happened to me?" he interrupted.

"I don't know. You didn't look hurt, just empty. It's possible you might have washed up on shore…" she shrugged. He hadn't been wet at the time, but who knew how long he and Master Xehanort had been there? Mira had not questioned what led to him being unresponsive; was she that self-absorbed? A lot had been going on, but shouldn't she have pressed her master more about what was wrong with him?

"So, what about after that?"

"My master told me to care for you while he was away. I think he was planning for you to train here. When he came back, we brought you here, and I hadn't seen you again, until…" she trailed off. Until her master brought her there. Dropped her off, just like Ven. But unlike for him, Xehanort promised to come back for her. He would keep his promise… right?

"Thanks for telling me, Mira," Ven mumbled gloomily.

She bit her lip. "I'm sorry I don't know more…"

He shook his head, already turning to leave. "No, don't apologize. You know plenty – we're friends, after all."

"Um, of course." She smiled softly at his retreating back. Maybe they could be friends, at least while she was stranded.

One night, after almost a year in the Land of Departure, almost a year after she last saw her master, the trio invited Mira to join them in watching the stars. She had previously enjoyed the view from the silence of her windowsill, alone. Nights in this world were temperate and mild. She was shocked at their invitation, but they were earnest. Perhaps this could be a turning point for them.

They walked toward the summit and laid on the soft grass, staring at the sky. Aqua and Ven were on either side of her, and Terra next to Aqua. She sighed. The stars were same everywhere she went. If she tried, she might've been able to forget where she was for a while.

"What's wrong, Mira?" Aqua asked, voice tinged with concern.

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?" Aqua's voice was soft, coaxing. "You look really sad right now."

Their eyes met, and Mira was warmed by the sympathy reflected there. "I just…" Could she be honest? Aqua looked so sincere... Mira exhaled softly. "I wonder when my master will take me home." She winced. That didn't sound very nice when she said it aloud versus in her mind. There was a collective silence.

"You miss him a lot, don't you?"

Mira closed her eyes, throwing an arm over her face. "He's… important to me."

"I'd feel the same if Master Eraqus left us…" Aqua trailed off.

Then Terra asked, "Why did he leave you here? And why hasn't he come back yet?"

Why indeed? "I don't know, but he told me to learn as much as possible while he's away."

"Well, you're definitely in the right place. Master Eraqus is full of knowledge!" Aqua chirped brightly. "And it's so beautiful here, it could be worse, right?"

"Hmm." Mira doubted that was her master's motivation. Years of training with him told her to look deeper than words. What was it about this place she needed to learn? It was beautiful, though likely not for the reasons Aqua thought. The way it teetered between light and darkness, as if a single move in either direction would plunge it into darkness or flood it with light. Her master often spoke of balance; was it related with that? "Either way, I'll continue learning alongside you all until he returns for me."

Aqua smiled, and they laid under the stars until dawn peeked over the horizon.

The announcement came quietly, unassuming and mild. Mira basked in the sunset, enjoying a few moments peace. The mark of mastery. Would she ever be tested? She'd never given it much thought in relation to her; her master was teaching her to be a seeker, always learning and exploring the mysteries of the worlds.

Terra and Aqua had begun training in earnest for their exam and it showed. Despite the exam being months away, they studied with greater intensity than usual, often falling asleep in the library, then wandering about the grounds in a zombie-like fashion. Deep circles became permanent residents beneath their eyes, and Mira speculated how long it would take them to fall ill from exhaustion.

But she had her own problems. Sparring with them, while originally an annoying chore, had turned into a nightmare. She shuddered and rubbed her eyes. Mira was by no means, a poor fighter, but they were kicking their exercise regimen into overdrive. Except their energy was focused in the wrong area; instead of practicing for a real battle, they practiced forms and stances, as if they didn't already know those things in their bones. She understood that they were under pressure, but why were they wasting energy on stuff that they could do in their sleep? What were they afraid of? It was as if failure was not an option, so they pushed. But they weren't pushing only themselves – they were pushing her too. To the brink of insanity. Terra wanted to try a certain form again. Aqua needed to work on a spell with a moving target. Training with them had become even more exhausting and repetitive that she had taken to avoiding them altogether.

"Spar with me."

And the avoidance measures were failing. Mira turned abruptly, eyebrows scrunched in surprise and dismay. Terra stood a few paces away, arms crossed and agitated. She hadn't noticed his approach and kicked herself internally. She needed be more aware of her surroundings. She wouldn't always be in a place safe enough in which to get lost in thought. But was she safe? From monsters of darkness, sure, but not from losing her mind. Her master would have chastised her for her carelessness. "Why would I want to do that?" Mira grumbled sourly. "Don't you see how comfortable I am?"

"C'mon Mira. I need to train -"

"Then why not ask Ven?" she muttered through gritted teeth. What he needed to do was exercise patience. And boundaries.

He floundered. "Because – well -"

"Look, I don't want to fight, okay?" she snapped.

He summoned his keyblade. "Mira, I challenge you to a spar. Get up."

An outright challenge? How dare he? She bristled. "What part of 'I don't want to fight' don't you understand? Besides," she glared, "a challenge requires a witness, and we're alone."

He looked around, as if he hadn't noticed their surroundings. "Oh. Fine then – but why can't you help me out?"

She gaped at him. "Help you out? Are you serious?! You and Aqua have been monopolizing all my time!" Mira exclaimed. "And I am tired of helping you!" She took a deep breath, leveling him with a cold stare. "You're stressed, I get it. But isn't managing stress a trait of a master? You and Aqua are running me into the ground for a test I'm not even taking. Besides, how much help am I if my keyblade craps out on me? Why don't the two of you just train with each other?"

There were footsteps behind her. "Is that how you really feel, Mira?" The blue haired woman moved to stand beside Terra.

"…Yes. I'm tired, you guys. And if I'm being honest?" She eyed them both. "You two don't look so great either. When's the last time you rested?"

"I don't think you understand the importance of-"

"No, I don't," she interrupted. "Why is it so important that you train this way?"

"My dream is to be a keyblade master and," Terra paused, weighing his words, "I don't want to disappoint Master Eraqus. I can relax once I'm a master."

Aqua glanced at him with a smile. "We appreciate your concern. And I'm sorry for tiring you out; I didn't realize you were helping both of us." They shared a laugh, grinning sheepishly.

There was movement in the corner of her eye. "Master Eraqus?" Terra and Aqua straightened, spotting their master's approach.

"Mira, a word please."

She nodded uneasily and followed him. They strolled through the grounds, making their way into the lush gardens. She vaguely remembered this place from when Ven had shown her around, but she'd never returned. It was a shame because it was beautiful. The small trees and hedges were trimmed to perfection, and everything was arranged in such a way as to inspire restfulness and meditation.

"I take it that you haven't seen my garden?"

"No, not really." His garden? He must spend all his time there when he wasn't training them for it to look this good. She had to repress a smile at the image of the scarred master in a sunhat with gardening gloves. Her cheek twitched.

He hummed, coming to a halt in the center of the small courtyard. "I wanted to speak with you about the Mark of Mastery."

"What about it?" He'd better not ask her to keep training so hard with the others. She wouldn't be able to refuse a direct order from a master and finding ways to get out of training would become far more difficult.

"Master Xehanort has agreed to attend and watch the proceedings."

Mira was speechless while she processed the news. But then her eyes lit up and a grin spread across her face. "He is?!" Maybe he would take her with him afterwards!

Eraqus eyed her, expression unreadable. "Yes. You know, I was surprised, at first, to hear that my friend took an apprentice. I didn't think that was something he'd ever wanted to do."

Her smile dimmed. "Why?" To her, her master seemed like the type who enjoyed teaching willing minds. It was the perfect job for him.

He continued without answering her. "When he brought you here, I thought he was passing you off to me to finish your training." Her heart thudded; he'd put into words the growing fear she fell asleep with every night she remained there. "However, when we spoke, he asked how you fared, and told me that he would return for you soon."

She couldn't contain her elated whoop. "Yes!"

Eraqus smiled wryly. "I'm glad I was mistaken. Though, I am curious, how did the two of you meet?"

Her master's warning to tell them nothing flashed through her mind. Mira shuffled her feet, mouth twisting into a frown. Eraqus had shown her kindness and hospitality – she had to say something. "I ran away from home… and bumped into him."

His eyes widened. "You ran away from your family?"

"Yeah…" she mumbled, "but I'd rather not talk about it, if that's okay. I don't have a lot of happy memories from that time."

He smiled sadly. "Of course. I had only wanted to pass along his message to you."

Mira nodded then excused herself. She was going to go home at long last. But the revelation was not as joyous as she thought it would be. There were questions her master needed to answer, and she was not looking forward to the challenge such an interrogation presented – especially if he was disinclined to provide answers. Then again, as long as they were together, she would have plenty of time to wheedle the information out of him.

Terra and Aqua's mark of mastery exam was only a few weeks away, and she still hadn't told any of them that she would be leaving. It wasn't that she was trying to keep it a secret, but that she didn't know how to say it. Making a big deal about it would distract them from their training, and it never came up in conversation. Instead, she came up with a better idea.

It was when she began her little project, one afternoon, that Aqua discovered her. "What are you doing, Mira?" she asked, peeking over her shoulder at the items strewn on the grass.

"Hm?" Mira looked up, surprised that the bluenette wasn't training or studying for once. "Oh," she replied, refocusing on her task. "I'm making something for you guys."

"What is it?"

She paused her crafting, patting the grass beside her. Aqua took the proffered seat, and Mira held up the partially completed charm. "It's called a wayfinder. It's just a charm but back on my world, we have these star-shaped fruits called Paopu. Legend says," Mira lowered her voice lowered dramatically, "if two people share one, their destinies become intertwined, and they'll remain a part of each other's lives no matter what."

"That's really sweet, Mira," she said, eyes crinkling in a smile. "I never knew you were such a romantic."

Mira's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, coughing awkwardly. "A-anyway, the wayfinder is the same shape as the fruit. It's…. sort of a good luck charm that ties people together or leads you home." Her charm had purple glass, and she'd selected colors for the others that reminded her of them. "I wanted – well, a lot is going to change, after you two become masters, y'know? We'll have to part ways at some point and…"

"I know… but we'll never forget each other. That's a promise." The older woman grinned. "Can you teach me? Then we can make them together."

Mira nodded, smiling softly. "Of course." They set to work, twining the charms together. It was nostalgic, making charms with another person. She and her mother used to do that same with the Thalassa shells on the beach. There was a dull ache with the memory, and the realization that she could barely remember her mother's face anymore. There were no pictures left – they had all been destroyed – and all that remained was a fading memory.

"So, this paopu fruit," Aqua began, after they'd worked for a little while. "What does it taste like?"

Mira shrugged. "No idea – I haven't had one."

"What? After all that about the legend, you've never shared one with someone?" Aqua balked. "Why not?"

Blushing slightly, she explained, "Because of its symbolism, the fruit itself is traditionally used in marriage ceremonies... I remember my mother telling me about how she and my father had shared one at their wedding. Maybe it's dumb, but I didn't want to have one unless it was with my intended…" Not that she had suitors lining up at the door. But maybe someday, much later, she'd find someone. Or not, because what was love when compared with the wonders the worlds had to offer?

"That's really sweet…" Aqua's eyes shone brightly. "You know, I've never actually heard you mention your parents before. Do you miss them?"

Mira frowned. "Yes and no. I miss how things used to be… but I don't know that I'd fit into that life anymore." She never wanted to go back to those islands that held so many painful memories for her. She had a new life, and she refused to look back.

"Hmm… I see what you mean," she said with a far-off look in her eyes.

After a little while, Mira held up her two charms – a purple and green one. "I think the green would suit Ven, don't you?"

Aqua nodded and held up the blue and orange ones. "Definitely. Obviously, the blue one goes to me!" Mira snorted, pocketing the completed charms, and they parted ways, happy with their little surprise. Unbeknownst to her, however, Mira would not get to see them receive their gifts.

The mark of mastery loomed only a week away, filling Mira with both dread and excitement. Maybe it was the barrenness of her room since she'd packed all her things – not that she had much to begin with – or perhaps it was the strange dream she'd had about a heart-shaped moon. Mira normally forgot her dreams, but this one was vivid and left her restless and exhausted. The eerie blue glow lingered, as if burned into her mind. The last time she had a dream like this one was on her first night in her master's home, but rather than the moon, that dream featured the watchful blue eye from Master Xehanort's keyblade. As she pulled on her boots that morning, she contemplated if the consequences of skipping training outweighed the benefits of returning to bed.

Unfortunately, skipping wasn't an option and she spent time training with Ven, reading in the library, and taking her meals with the others – except breakfast, which she always took alone – and counting down the minutes until she could hide in her room and sleep. It wasn't until evening, when she was finally finished with the day's activities, that Master Eraqus unexpectedly pulled her aside to 'discuss something of importance'.

Eraqus opened the door to his study and she trailed behind, equal parts cranky and curious about he wanted until she zeroed in on the room's only other occupant. Mira's eyes widened. Nothing, not her resolve to get answers from him nor her fatigue, could stifle her joy in that moment, and her face alit with a beaming grin.

"Master!"

Mira shuddered; she should have appreciated the time she spent with Terra, Aqua, and Ven more than she had. But the palpable excitement was vivid in her memory. She'd been so happy to leave… Would she have the same feelings if she came face to face with her master again? After her failure, could she even face him?