Mira scowled at the gummies in the bottle; she'd been up since dawn preparing to go home, and she was finally ready save for one final step: taking the hi-ether. To think, she had to start and end her days with such unpleasantness for an entire week...

But there was a silver lining; she was going home, even if the one who made it so wouldn't be there. She hadn't been back to her master's cottage since the day he'd delegated her training to Eraqus. It was exciting and yet, Mira had always pictured them returning home together. She sighed, popping the hi-ether in her mouth and swallowing it whole, shuddering at the flavor.

Straightening her coat, Mira glanced around her quarters; everything was neat and tidy, perfect for when she returned. She hadn't packed a bag as there were still clothes at home, and the bottle of hi-ethers was tucked away in her pocket. All that remained was to say goodbye to Braig. It was tempting to invite him along, but she couldn't afford any distractions during her research, and it was unlikely that her master would appreciate her bringing him to his home.

With that in mind, she stepped into the hallway, following the familiar path to the sharpshooter's room. Mira rapped her knuckles on the door. There was no answer, and when she peeked her head in, it was clear that he'd been gone for some time. With a sigh, Mira checked the common room; Even sat at the table Dilan and Aeleus had occupied the night before, sipping a steaming mug of coffee. Their eyes met and he nodded in greeting, before returning to his beverage. Ever since Ansem's reprimand to the apprentices, they hadn't interacted much, and she preferred it that way. But there was no one else around to ask, and she didn't have all day to look for Braig.

Clearing her throat, Mira approached the scientist. "Morning Even. Do you know where Braig is?"

"I think he went into town on an errand," he said without looking up from his mug.

"Do you know where?" Depending on how close he was, she might be able to reach him quickly then leave.

The blond scientist frowned. "I do not. Missing your lover already?" he asked in distaste before taking a sip of his coffee.

Mira shot him a bland look. "Obviously. Not all of our hearts can be shriveled prunes."

He eyed her over the rim of his mug. "Indeed? When did this happen?"

"I'm not sure how that's any concern of yours," she pointed out dryly. "Why do you want to know?"

Even had the decency to look uncomfortable. "There was a... wager for how long it would take you two to get together."

Mira blinked. "Isn't that a little-"

He averted his eyes. "Yes, I-uh, I realize it's-"

"Rude? Intrusive? Take your pick," she supplied. Even didn't reply. "Who was in on it?"

"Aside from myself, Dilan, Aeleus, and... Lord Ansem."

A laugh escaped her. No wonder he'd insisted Braig accompany her. That sly old man. "You've got to be kidding."

"I am not."

How un-kingly. "How much is the total up to?"

"I beg your pardon, that doesn't-"

"What? I want to know how much someone is going to profit off my personal business. So, how much is the winner taking home?" she pressed.

Even pinched the bridge of his nose. "...We're at five hundred munny."

That was a sizeable sum. Mira kept her face carefully blank. "What were the guesses?"

"I wagered you two would be insufferably lovey-dovey by Christmas."

Her brows rose. That was a lot closer than she thought it would be. "And the others?"

"Dilan thought for sure it would be within a month after you saved Braig's life, Lord Ansem's wager was by the new year, and Aeleus didn't think it would be until well after Valentine's Day."

Mira hid a devious grin. This was perfect. "I see. I have to say, this is disappointing, especially considering that your king was involved. It reflects poorly on his character, that's for sure. I would hate for this to get out to the public..." She glanced at the scientist; his face had gone white.

"You wouldn't..."

She blinked innocently. "Wouldn't what?"

Green eyes narrowed, and Even scowled. "You know what."

"Well, no one would ever have to know..." Mira let out a dramatic sigh. "But it just doesn't seem right that someone should get all that munny, considering how intrusive the entire thing is. But since your guess was the closest, I'm sure we could come to an understanding." If he called her bluff, then that was that. But there was no reason not to make this idiotic bet a little more lucrative for herself. Munny was in limited supply after all, and Mira never knew when she'd need it for a rainy day.

Even leaned back in his chair, glaring at his empty coffee mug. "Enterprising little chit. I could just keep the money."

"And I could tell Braig not to confirm when we got together, and no one gets any munny." Mira shrugged. "It's up to you."

He let out a defeated sigh. "Fine."

"Great!" she chirped. "Braig can corroborate what I've said to the others, and I'll collect my half of the winnings when I come back."

"Half?!"

"Unless you want me to take more? I can oblige if that's the case-"

"No! No, that's unnecessary." He ran a hand through his hair, furrowing his brow. "What do you mean, 'when you come back?' Where are you going?"

"Home," she said wistfully. "I haven't been back since..." Mira cut herself off and cleared her throat.

"Sounds like you miss it. Feel free never to return."

"I do, but don't worry," she said, wearing a mischievous grin. "I'll be back by Christmas Eve to collect my winnings."

"Of course, you will," he grumbled.

Mira only laughed and turned on her heel, returning to her room. Considering that was her longest conversation with the surly blond, it went incredibly well. Not to mention, her promised riches. Merry Christmas, indeed. A glance out the window revealed Radiant Garden's transformation into an icy wonderland, and the snow showed no sign of stopping. There was no way she could go on a wild goose chase looking for him; she neither had the proper winter clothing, nor the time to spend searching. Mira sighed; it'd have been better to say goodbye in person, but it was out of her hands. Instead, she scrawled a note and slipped it under his door. With that done, she opened a lane, letting her heart guide her home.

When Mira exited the lane, the sight of her home stole her breath away; the austere exterior was as unremarkable as she remembered, but it was a sight for sore eyes. Her master's cottage always seemed to exist outside time, but it was never more apparent. It was like she'd never left. She ran up to the porch, summoning her keyblade and unlocking the door. That was one of the first things her master taught her once she managed to materialize her keyblade.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Mira stepped inside, letting the door close behind her with a click. Her heart hammered against her chest. "I'm home," she whispered. Opening her eyes, Mira flicked on the light, releasing a shuddering sigh. Everything was the same, down to the mess of papers on the table she and her master always sat at in front of the fire. Not that she'd expected a home remodel or anything; her master was a man of routine and practicality. But the familiarity and sense of belonging pulled at the deepest part of her; she was home at last.

A sudden wave of fatigue washed over her, and she slumped in the armchair she'd claimed as her own many years ago, glancing at the papers strewn over the table. They were written in her master's hand. Mira reached for one, then quickly withdrew her hand. She shouldn't. He was gone, but not for good. Pushing aside her exhaustion, Mira got up and moved to the kitchen. Best to avoid temptation.

Opening the fridge, she immediately slapped a hand over her nose, the pungent odor of rotting food assaulting her nasal passages. She set to work clearing the rotten and expired food, tossing it into the garbage and wiping down the shelves as best she could. What remained was a jar of pickles, a bottle of horseradish, and a block of partially moldy cheese. Mira closed the fridge and peeked into the pantry; canned goods and crackers stood in their usual places, as well as some pasta and potatoes that'd sprouted. She sighed; it wasn't the best group of ingredients, but at least she wouldn't starve while she was there. Grabbing the crackers and the moldy cheese, she set to work preparing a snack, tossing the moldy bits into the trash.

With the kitchen clean, the trash taken out, and a snack at the ready, Mira returned to the living room, eyes immediately drawn to the papers again. Perhaps just a peek. Given that she needed as much information as she could to bring him back, this perusal was justified. Not to mention, she did just clean the kitchen, after all...

Settling into her chair once more, Mira took a bite of her cheese and crackers, grabbing the closest document within reach. She squinted at her master's cramped scrawl; number seven. She dug through the pile, putting them in order; there were fourteen in total. Then she began to read.

Mira remembered the fascination of learning more about her master in his own words. It was like he was there, explaining himself to her. He was the subject and she the student desperate for understanding. At first, the reports detailed some of Master Xehanort's youth – though nothing anecdotal about the antics he and Eraqus got up to, unfortunately. Instead, it was more oriented towards his questioning of the precepts he learned. It was difficult to picture him as an apprentice with a master of his own, but even then, he was knowledgeable of the Keyblade War and of Kingdom Hearts. His fascination, bordering on obsession was clear from the attention paid to those subjects. He wanted to reunite the worlds and restore balance; an admirable goal, if ever there was one. But that wasn't everything...

Xehanort Report IX

"We Keyblade Masters have a special gift. We can extract a heart, be it our own or that of another. By continuing this cycle, it is possible to remain in the world of the living forever.

As a boy, I dreamed of seeing the farthest reaches of the World. If I only went far enough, there had to be a world out there in which no one had ever before set foot. And now I know of just such a world. If I become the first to open Kingdom Hearts' door, I can create the Next World in which light and darkness exist in perfect equilibrium.

So there I stood, with vast knowledge in one gnarled, dying hand, and newfound purpose in the other. The next step was clear: I needed a new vessel.

And that was when I met Ventus and made him my pupil. We were destined to meet, and I could sense the potential within him, but the boy was too benign for his own good. I came to the conclusion he was too frail to serve as a vessel and decided to use him for a second purpose I had in mind.

I would remove the darkness from his heart and split him in two. Then I would have my heart of pure light, and my heart of pure darkness."

Mira froze. Her master had taken Ven on as an apprentice before her... for the purpose of turning him into a vessel? This had all been pre-meditated far before she ever came into the picture. What did that mean for her? Was she also a... candidate? She bit her lip, pushing back tears. She shouldn't jump to conclusions. There was more to read.

Xehanort Report X

"As was to be expected, Ventus lacked the constitution for such an ordeal. I was able to remove the darkness inside him and create Vanitas, a heart of pure darkness, but Ventus drifted into the clutches of sleep.

Ventus' heart of pure light and Vanitas's heart of pure darkness...If both could be made strong enough to one day clash, I know the χ-blade would be forged.

But Vanitas took too much of Ventus's heart, and from that fracture, I could see the last of Ventus's light was slipping away. The boy deserved a place to spend his final moments peacefully. And what should come to mind but my own boyhood home.

My legs took me there unbidden, and as I stood there on the same beach where I had made my choice so many years ago, I thought: not a single thing has changed. Here, in this quiet world, time marches in place.

Content that Ventus would find peace here, I started to walk away—but just then, I was accosted by the most peculiar child, demanding to know what I was doing there. Her silvery grey eyes reflected the moonlight, seemingly glowing in the night. I nearly thought old age had stolen my faculties at last and I was seeing a specter. It was the dead of night, yet a child was out of bed, far away from the mainland, parents nowhere to be seen. I told her to return home, but as the stubborn thing staunchly refused, Ventus held up his Keyblade. The light within him had not died.

The girl was naturally curious, and again refused to go home. Normally, I would have simply ignored such attitude and left with my charge, but she insisted she would never go back. Then she asked me a question I still remember clear as day:

'You said you were a seeker of knowledge, but what could you possibly hope to learn in a place like this?'

I was overwhelmed by a sudden kinship with the child; there was a spark of curiosity and yearning for knowledge in her eyes. And the same discontent with the Destiny Islands that first drove me away. Something possessed me to test her.

And she was worthy."

He had torn Ven's heart in two and it almost killed him. Mira's hands trembled, crumpling the paper. When they met, he had been disposing of the body. Master Xehanort nearly committed murder in the name of knowledge. Had he not instructed her to beware of the paths her seeking would take her? Where was the line if attempted murder was on the table? And yet...

Had she not done the same? Master Xehanort likened her to himself in his younger days, and she had already attempted the same sin, in a way. She hadn't cared whether Tzekel-kan lived or died when she attempted to release the darkness from his heart. He was trying to hurt people, yes, but aside from that, the only other situational difference was that Ven was her friend. Was she so callous that life only held value based on its proximity to her?

Xehanort Report XI

"Ventus and Vanitas were not matched in power; if I attempted to train them together, Vanitas's darkness would gnaw away what little light Ventus had left.

Of course, since I needed a place where the boy's light might flourish, the answer was obvious: Eraqus, and his absolutes.

Considering how we had parted ways, I expected friction—but if anything, Eraqus seemed delighted to see me again. He readily agreed to take care of Ventus. Now I need only wait for the boy's heart to get stronger. The girl I took in, whose name I learned was Mira, took care of Ventus efficiently while I tasked her with summoning her own keyblade. I left her to her own devices while I dealt with Vanitas. In hindsight, I should not have left a child of twelve alone, but she had no difficulty taking care of herself and Ventus.

When I returned, she produced her keyblade as I'd instructed. Keyblades usually represent the heart of the wielder in some way, unless it was specifically bequeathed, as mine was. Fragile was the only way I could describe hers. It was as delicate as spun glass. But when I took it in my hands, the heft surprised me; though nowhere near the weight of my own, it was heavier than it looked. More curiously, its lack of color. The hilt was black and white, light and dark visually balanced.

Perhaps I am reading into things, but I am drawn to this detail over and over, as if there's something I should be remembering, but cannot grasp. But there was little time to fret over the state of her keyblade; Ventus's heart had healed enough at last to be put in my friend's care.

I had not visited this second home of mine for some time and discovered Eraqus had already two pupils of his own. Within one of them, Terra, I sensed something. The boy, though well-intentioned, seeks power single-mindedly. And that kind of hunger is a seedbed for darkness.

I had found my vessel."

If these reports were an accurate account, then Mira could conclude that her master had never considered her for a vessel. And given Terra's fate... She put her head in her hands. It shamed her, but Mira couldn't help the wave of relief that washed over her. If nothing else, her master hadn't intended to use her for something so malicious.

But she couldn't make heads or tails of his fixation on her keyblade. He'd never mentioned anything about it before; it wasn't like her master to overthink a matter that caught his attention. Calling her keyblade forth, it appeared in her hand in a flash of light. She'd always thought it was pretty; the teeth at the end reminded her of the petals on a lotus flower. It refracted light beautifully, if only she could hold onto it long enough to appreciate the spectacle. Why would it trouble him?

Xehanort Report XII

"It is a testament to her sheer determination that Mira has progressed so far in her training in such a short time. Even when exhausted, she presses on until she can do no more. She is determined to gain my approval, to the point that she often takes on more than she can handle. She must learn to pace herself. However, that is nothing that cannot be learned with time and instruction. Unfortunately, aside from her proclivity for overexerting herself, I have made some troubling discoveries that threaten her future as a seeker.

The first of which is not necessarily negative; in fact, it could be an advantage. Mira is entirely unaffected by the darkness; she shows no signs of erosion in dark corridors, even without armor or a black coat. I cannot sense overwhelming light or darkness in her; even when angry or afraid, her heart always maintains perfect balance. Furthermore, the creatures of darkness show no hostility to her, unless she is the aggressor.

The problem lies in my second discovery. While fighting against the dark creatures I'd summoned, her keyblade disappeared. I thought the strength of her heart was wavering, and I forced her to continue fighting. It did not return. She pleaded with me, but I did not listen.

In hindsight, perhaps I was a touch harsh on her. She could have been gravely injured or worse; and she'd been frightened. But Mira is more resourceful than I gave her credit for, and she ripped the keyblade from my own hands to slay her foes. I could see she was struggling to wield it, but it did not disappear from her hands like I'd expected it would. Her own keyblade rebelled against her, yet she possessed the strength of heart to wield this most ancient of keyblades. I have never witnessed such a phenomenon.

Despite my harsh treatment, she humored me with a game of chess later on that evening. Let it be known, the child's skills at the game are abhorrent, but she is unafraid to try unconventional stratagems. That alone makes matches against her interesting, even if she consistently loses. Sometime amid the match, she fell asleep, exhausted but unwilling to communicate her need for rest. I saw the opportunity for what it was and dove into her heart.

I should not have invaded her privacy this way, but what I discovered overshadows any guilt I harbored. Her heart is encircled by a barrier akin to shields produced by reflect magic. Though uncommonly adept with all spells in the reflect category, she does not have the skill to cast such a strong shield – especially not over her own heart. I am troubled by the thought of where it may have come from...

Though the shield prevented me from getting closer, I could still observe the surface of her Station of Awakening, leading me to make a far worse discovery. Hearts are normally filled with connections – the most prominent of which are visually depicted on the surface. They strengthen and bolster a heart against the pain and trials life brings and lend strength in times of distress. But Mira has no such connections, save for one. The implications of this are disastrous.

Without connections, her heart is unstable, directly impacting the reliability and strength of her keyblade. I am amazed she can draw one forth at all, but I fear she may be unable to perform more advanced techniques; even if she can manage, her tendency to overexert herself will endanger her. I cannot allow this.

I must ask Eraqus to look after her. I know sending her away will hurt her; since the beginning of her training, she has grown attached to me. And if I am honest, I am fond of her as well. Our home will be emptier without her presence. However, it is my responsibility to put her well-being first and foremost. She will only benefit if she can make friends and form connections. Furthermore, her absence will also serve a greater purpose: granting me more time to train Vanitas for his task. Putting her tutelage on hold is regrettable; she shows much promise as my successor, but it must be done.

She will be in good hands until I can return for her."

Why hadn't her master spoken of these things to her? He had mentioned that she was balanced, but nothing about connections or the shield. Had she not stumbled into her own Station of Awakening after healing Braig, she never would have known about any of it. Didn't she have a right to know? Master Xehanort always did things for a reason, but what reason could he have for hiding this from her?

She'd spent so long resenting his decision to send her away; would the separation have been as painful if he'd only been candid with her? Most likely, but at least she wouldn't have had to wonder what she did wrong. And... a little reassurance that he cared for her would have been nice...

Xehanort Report XIII

"Eraqus wrote to me again; Mira continues to struggle with her keyblade, to the point that he demanded I return and see to her myself. I cannot fathom why it continues to elude her given that my old friend claims she's grown closer to the others; if so, the connections fostered between them should have alleviated this problem... Had I made a mistake?

Mistaken or not, I cannot retrieve her just yet; I am at a crucial juncture in Vanitas's training. However, if she does not show improvement soon, I will adjust my plans and bring her home. There is no sense in leaving her there longer than strictly necessary.

Master Xehanort kept regular correspondence with Eraqus, but couldn't spare a moment to write a letter to her? Didn't he know how isolating that was? It would've boosted her spirits immensely to have had some contact with him, to not feel like she was all alone among those who thought differently from her. To remind her that she was still important to him.

And even when he did come for her, he did not take her home like this report suggested he would. Instead, he dropped her off in Radiant Garden among new strangers. Isolating her all over again. Though she couldn't say she hated the arrangement anymore, it still rankled that he stashed her there to keep her out of the way of his dark plans. Even if it was to keep her safe, he should have trusted her more.

Xehanort Report XIV

"The time has come. I have received word from Eraqus that his pupils are to become true Keyblade Masters. Terra and Aqua...They will be easy now to lure into the outside world. But Ventus! I will get nowhere without him.

Vanitas can feel some of what Ventus feels, and he says Terra is the key. Ventus has loved Terra like a real brother ever since he let him keep his old wooden Keyblade. It seems we have found a loose thread at which we can tug to unravel Ventus's heart.

The first step is to get Terra alone; then we need to plant the seeds of doubt in Ventus. Let him carry his faint light as he chases his brother into the darkness.

Let the darkness make his light stronger, then let the light deepen the darkness. And where the two finally meet is where the stuff of legends will become real.

But before I can initiate my plans, I must remove Mira from the equation. She is not ready for the clash to come, and I refuse to put her in harm's way. I will place her in Radiant Garden under the guise of learning from the sage king. It won't distract her for long, but it may buy me enough time to secure my vessel, at the very least. I will find her when light expires and bring her into the new world. If my hypothesis is correct, the shield around her heart will protect her from the coming darkness until I can lead her back to the light. Then I'll have all the time in the world to fix her heart and guide her as my successor.

I only hope she will forgive me for leaving her so long."

The sky had darkened to an inky indigo by the time Mira finished reading her master's reports. She carefully replaced them in a neat stack atop the table and leaned back in her chair, letting out a heavy sigh. There were no more – nothing that would give her insight as to the specifics of his plans, or even the deal he struck with Braig. Whatever his next move was, he kept it close to the chest, and she had no more clarity now than when she arrived.

What she could conclude for certain, however, was that the amnesia was genuine, and her master was not fully in control of his vessel. One option was to separate her master's heart from the vessel, but that presented too many problems. What if her master's light slipped away like Ven's? Or if the same happened to Terra? The risk was too great to take a chance.

The other option was to try diving to her master's heart the way he dove into hers. But with her current understanding, Mira had no way of accessing someone's heart intentionally; when she dove into her own, it was by accident, and she was near death. Even worse was the realization that her heart's instability may affect her capacity to execute the technique at all. Mira put her head in her hands, inhaling shakily, heart sitting heavy in her chest. The first option risked her master and Terra. But the second option risked herself. Was there really a choice at all?