This appears to be something new...

[Simon]

Being able to traverse the Lanes Between at-will was a boon; you were never wanting for a means to travel. As he had been shown, lately, this was NOT the realm to which he was accustomed. At least, not in its entirety. The basics were all here, but, the details were drastically different. So, he'd decided that, whenever he wasn't needed around home, he would take to his old pastime of wandering. To him, his first task was to establish a "world map". A general knowing of the worlds that the Lanes could reach.

And, it was a simple enough task. The Nameless Foreteller found that the worlds he knew were, more or less, in the same places. ...Disney Town, due to the collective failure of the guardians of the realm, was conspicuously absent, but, that aside, everything seemed in order. ...At least, at first.

Initially, he had not seen them; the way the worlds cluster, they were hidden from his gaze. But, as he cruised the Lanes Between, they did become apparent to him. Each world showing a caricature of itself to him. A cathedral. A dreamscape. A field of stars. A dense, mountain forest. And no less than three castles that he couldn't readily place. He'd have to explore them all, he figured; knowing nothing about the worlds he'd found, and not even knowing what to ask in the first place, first-hand exploration was the only option. Figuring any world was as good as any other, he went for what was closest to him.


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Always making sure to enter in unseen areas, Simon dropped out of the lanes in this new world. Dismissing Glider and Armor alike, he strode out of the alley.

Even in the dim light of morning, the world's love affair with blue and white was obvious. His stride carried him out into the circular fountain plaza, where he admired the architecture; he was far from an expert on the subject, but, their fascination with towers was one he could understand. It's one he shared. He could make out, in the distance, some kind of clockwork cathedral, which impressed him, greatly. The sheer SCALE on which the clock must be, considering the cogs were plainly visible from this distance, must be staggering.

He was unsurprised, as he sat on the edge of the fountain, that the world was quiet, here. Given the apparent time, not many were likely awake.

"Read the sign." He muttered to himself, in a reference to something he was certain only he knew.

But, with the world so quiet, he had no way of really learning much. So, sat there, on the fountain's edge, his collar turned up at the cool morning air, he waited. For who, for what, he didn't know, yet. But, he knew how the worlds worked.



SOMEthing was bound to happen.

[Keyblade Warrior Terra]

He was not keen on returning back here, but his heart...his heart told him he should come and at least check on the place that had been his home for so many years. The brunette couldn't recall too many fond memories of this place. Lately, he wasn't even sure what were really his memories at all...still, in what he knew he was sure of, this place had only been a temporary place to call a residence. None of the people here had ever been too fond of him, with his rebellious attitude and tough guy nature. He'd been on the streets for longer than he'd cared to admit, growing ever more the anti-authority against the people who'd ran the orphanage.
Truth be told, Terra could not remember a single thing about either of his parents. Sometimes, he wished he could, although most of the time he considered it a bother to waste time trying to recall things that weren't important. They were dead, after all, as far as anybody had known.

There didn't seem to be too terribly much that had changed here. Things were still similar to when he'd left, and while the youth had stuck to most of the back areas as he got around, even when passing people by, nobody seemed to recognize him. Had he really changed so much? Terra shrugged mentally. He hadn't changed his appearance all that much since he'd left--or rather, he'd been forced to leave by Jett--the first time. Funny how life had a way of shifting around after accidents...

He was still no closer to finding answers to all his many, many questions. He'd been told to search for a man named Eraqus, but found nothing. He'd been told he needed to open some door to light, and found no trace. He'd looked for clues to his memories, with little help from anywhere but Castle Oblivion and the young woman named Aqua. Even after their adventures in the world of Neverland, the earthen youth had lost track of his new interest--Aqua herself had gone missing once again with little explanation, and no trace of her leaving. Somehow, the further away he looked, the less he seemed to find.
So, it was better to take a break from that sort of thing. He'd returned back to home--or rather the only place he could really call home--for some rest. Familiarity would help, perhaps.

As the lad walked through the cobblestone streets and puce-shaded houses, it was then that his eyes caught a glimpse of something that certainly was not familiar at all...or rather, someone. The off way he was dressed, the strange manner that came off of him in waves...and Terra knew every single face that had ever been around in his lifetime. He's grown up here all of his life, and had ample time to learn about the people he shared this community with. This man was not one of them.
Meaning, he was some manner of world-traveller, like Darius Fetch, Tsumiko, the Jasper boy, and of course Aqua herself. How odd that after all of this time, that someone would finally come and visit their world. If only he'd shown up sooner.

Casually, Terra put his hands into the pockets of his bleached jacket, walking up behind the gentleman.
"You know, you stick out pretty well when you're out this early," he said, coolly. "The locals aren't up and around until after breakfast you know. That's not for another hour. The least you could do is blend in."

[Simon]

(Wait, is that what puce looks like? I've never actually encountered the color.)

He wasn't expecting company. Well-trained (and rather self-honed) reflexes kicked in the moment he heard a word from behind him. In no less than a moment, in a blur of motion, the traveler was on his feet, turned around to face the young man. He very nearly called the Sunslammer to hand, before realizing the person before him was unarmed. And, that wasn't all.

The youth of this man was, to him, surprising. "I must be getting jumpy, in my old age.", he thought to himself. He spared the man an analytical glance, before replying. A stout fellow, hale and hearty. He'd seen enough warriors to know that this one had the look about him. Accustomed to combat. But, his appearance of stellar health told the traveler that, perhaps, he hadn't seen much actual battle? He'd have scars, for certain, if he was seasoned; NOBODY was that good.

...But, supposition is faulty, at best, and, even if you're good at it, it will only get you so far.

"I figured I might. I only just got into town, you see. It's not exactly easy to blend in, when you're a stranger in a strange land."

He stretched, after this, as though he might be weary. (Interdimensional travel will do that to you.) Fingers locked, hands high above his head, back slightly arched. He rolled his neck from side to side, the depressurization of the cartilage only adding to the brief cacophony of popping joints. A yawn overtook him, at that moment, as well, before returning to a more neutral stance.


"I'm guessing you're familiar with this world, then? ...Actually, where, exactly, am I?"

[Keyblade Warrior Terra]

He didn't seem like he was doing any harm. Still, Terra wasn't entirely convinced of strangers running around his homeworld--especially not after what had happened with Jett--he'd more than learned the hard way that appearances meant nothing anymore. If he could be defeated by a young boy...there was no telling what a grizzled man like this was capable of.
Still...it wasn't anything a Keyblade Warrior couldn't handle.

"This is Daybreak Town," the brunette said, slowly. "This is my home, although I can't stay around too much longer, so I can't really show you around. There's a bit of a problem with Heartless...Which I'm sure you're familiar with, from the looks of you." The youth crossed his arms expectantly.
"So spill it; where're you from?"

[Simon]

...Now, this was interesting.

Most people mention the Heartless like a disaster. Something you can't change. Something you withstand, and rebuild after. But, this young man spoke of the Heartless as though they were a problem to be solved; something that precious few were actually capable of doing.

...Could he be one of those happy few?

"Radiant Garden." Simon responded. At the moment, he had no reason to appear to be anything more than a traveler with a good sword arm. Part of him was curious if ti had to stay that way. What ddi this boy know? About the world? The Heartless? The Keyblade?

"I'm surprised the Heartless are an issue here, in a world as bright and cheerful as this. We'll get Heartless down in the Baileys, every now and again, but, CLAYMORE usually clears that up."

It really was convenient, with The Grid hosted right there on-world; the whole place was protected, as a matter of course for the system.

"Suppose, failin' something like CLAYMORE, you'd need folks around with Keyblades..."

He interrupted himself with a short laugh.

"'course, Keyblades are just myth. Stuff people tell eachother 'bout, 'round warm hearths, to make themselves forget about what lurks in the shadows."

He didn't believe a word of that. He knew better, intimately so. But, he wasn't going to volunteer that information, until he had to. The best thing a Keyblade Wielder can do is convince the worlds they don't exist. Power like theirs can be exploited, and, if you can operate under the radar of most, then, so much the better.

"So, stranger, what do I call ya?"

[Keyblade Warrior Terra]

The brunette nodded at the mention of the world. That was where Tsumiko lived; the world of light, a place of protection, once ruled over by a wise sage. It wasn't too unlike Daybreak Town, now that he thought about it...but where they were more at peace due to safety, his own homeworld had the luxury of being away from the throngs of destruction out of mere fortune...A fortune that Terra, upon being bestowed the Keyblade, had effectively shattered. Even his presence here couldn't be tolerated long without attracting the wayward hearts of Darkness to his location...

"They showed up recently," Terra said, flatly. "I don't know what a CLAYMORE is, but unless it kills them completely, it's only prolonging the problem."

But the youth's blood went icy upon the mention of the weapon of Light. The Keyblade was supposed to be a myth. Few people ever mentioned it now, even as a fable. Folks were beginning to realize, now, that there might not be any way to avoid the fate of eternal Darkness. Hope was being lost, day by day, as more Heartless arrived and fewer Keyblade Warriors were there to defend people. What he'd learned in Castle Oblivion, about the war that divided those Unions, was likely the cause...and now he had no other method of being able to get further information on such an event, or find anybody who might be able to teach him what he needed to know.
Once again, it was another dead end. Eraqus was still a ghost he was chasing, and Aqua, the girl from his dreams, was just as gone as he. Two people who he swore were of some significance to the life he'd had before, gone again before he could begin to understand.

Sighing, the Keyblade novice extended his palm, as the Ends of the Earth appeared in its grasp with a shower of lights and cubes. As the weapon took physical shape, Terra lowered his arm, with a shrug.
"They're not myths, at least not anymore. I have this one. It came to me, and I've been looking for what I'm supposed to do with it ever since. Every time I find an answer, I get more questions. I've been searching for a teacher, but so far, I haven't found anybody who knows anything. As far as I know, I'm the only Keyblade Warrior around." In a tone that verged on both bored and agitated, he fired off a series of answers.
"And before you ask, you can hold it, but it goes away and comes right back to my hand. I don't know why. No, I can't give you one. I don't even know how I got mine. No, I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how to defeat the Heartless for good, I don't know how to protect all the worlds with just myself, and no, I don't have any armor that I know about...I don't know why people keep asking."

Slowly, the troubled youth shook his head, his eyes on the ground in his frustrated dismay.
"My name is Terra. I was born here, I've lived here all my life. I was given a Keyblade, and I don't know the first thing about any of what I'm supposed to do with it."

[Simon]

He'd had a suspicion, but, for him to just call his Keyblade like that, out in the open!?!

Granted, this place SEEMED tame enough, but, he couldn't take that for granted. He knew about the ancient conflict, how it was born of the Keyblade's power.

"By the Light, boy, put that thing away!"

He cast glances over either shoulder, not trusting that they were alone. Returning his gaze to Terra, his expression became deadly serious.

"I know a fair bit about the Keyblade, myself, Terra. And the first thing you need to know is you should never reveal that you have one, if you can help it."

This young man looked like one of the good ones. The last thing he wanted was to see him used as a puppet. The "Empire" he once served was one of the most toxic things he'd ever been a part of. If he could spare others the role he'd been made to play, he'd do it every time. 

"We should talk. Somewhere private. Do you know a place?"

[Keyblade Warrior Terra]

The other cocked a rather suspicious eyebrow. If he'd known about the Keyblade earlier, why had he pretended as though it were a myth? Why was it suddenly so important that it be kept a secret? Weren't Keyblade Warriors supposed to help people? How could they do that, if nobody knew who they were? How did he even know if Terra were telling the truth? What was this guy's problem?

His body tensed. He didn't like where this was going. Terra didn't move, his azure eyes locked onto the others' with a spark of conflict resting in them. If he made one wrong twitch, he was going to regret it. Strangers were strange enough in town without them knowing about other worlds and Keyblades.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said, slowly, "until you start giving me answers. People here know I've got a Keyblade; it's why I left. I won't stick out. I'm a local. You? Not so much--and when the people around here get nervous, they call in the guards--I don't think you want to deal with that. So start talking. You can start with your name, and what you know. I might be in the mood to take you somewhere quieter once you can give me some information."

He could have been from one of the Unions Eraqus had told him about. He could have been a Heartless, like Jett. He could have been a number of things. He'd used the phrase 'by the light', and Eraqus had told the lad about the conflict between the five factions...a conflict that had involved taking the light for their own. They'd destroyed themselves, and rightfully so, in his eyes. Terra wasn't about to risk finding out who or what this man was by walking straight into a trap. At least here, in the open, he had ways of escaping, and could navigate without causing danger or harm to the people in town. If this was some kind of trick...the youth would be more than happy to express his appreciation of it.

[Simon]

(Sorry about the delay. Squeenix E3 stuff on Twitch. Eheheheheh... .////.)

Ahhh, youth.

Gods, was he like that, at Terra's age?

The man let out a sigh of frustration. The fact that people here ALREADY knew of Terra's Keyblade was bad enough; no harm, so far, that he could tell. But, that could change, so easily. 

He wanted to enlighten this boy. Maybe, with enough like him, the worlds could be better-protected. 

Maybe things like Disney Town won't happen again.

He could say he wasn't one for theatrics. But, then, he'd be lying. The people, here, were either still asleep, or watching at a distance. Terra'd revealed himself; the damage was done. And, if he really DID want to go looking for Keyblade Wielders, he'd start getting noticed, anyway. One of his hands went down to his belt, fiddling, briefly, with the buckle, which bore a magic circle. The runes began to glow, as the device began to intone words of power, in a language Terra almost certainly didn't know.

"Fine. We'll do it your way. My name is Simon. As for what I know..."

He couldn't help but grin, as he waved a hand over the buckle, the jewels in his rings shining as they passed over the runes. He stood, heels together, head bowed, arms out to his sides as the belt intoned.

"Shadow, now. Dragon!"

A wave of dark energy quickly enrobed the man, leaving him looking like a formless silhouette. A form not too unlike that of a Pureblood Heartless. A similar form, though winged, burst into existence, and soared overhead. The energy surrounding the man's body began to coalesce, forming a tight-fitting black bodysuit, greaves, boots, and gauntlets of back and silver, trimmed in gold, forming as well. He spun on a heel, swirls of black, violet stones, and golden wires coming together to form a longcoat, mantle, and chained stones, draped elegantly over him. Finally, a dark energy shimmered around his head, forming a helm of obsidian and amethyst. A hood formed over the helm, as horns of amethyst emerged above the eyes. The dark flying figure then descended on the armored figure, its body wrapping around his. Tail and wings on his back, claws on his hands and feet, its head around his own. A flash of magic, and the shadowy pieces of the dragon formed into solid, silvery pieces, which set into the armor like they belonged, giving the man the appearance of a fearsome black wyrm. One clawed hand stretched out, open. A shaft of dark energy came into being before him, against his palm. It sparked with moonlight the moment his hand snapped closed, taking the form of an elegant Keyblade, silver, blue, and gold, the "shaft" only slightly done over with filigree-like wire, leaving distinct cutting edges. The moon-and-star motif teeth caught the early morning light as he lowered the blade, his pose more relaxed.

"I trust this will be sufficient for my credentials?"


It was still early. The few who did see this could easily be dismissed as still-dreaming.

[Keyblade Warrior Terra]

The sudden appearance of the dark figure, threw Terra's body into ice water. Simon, as the man called himself, had donned some form of armor, and in his hand, was a weapon that almost resembled...a Keyblade. But this answered nothing. It only warranted new questions. He was a Keyblader, of some sort. But something about the way his equipment had appeared onto him, the way it seemed to loom with the stench of Darkness...the youth's gaze turned hard at the prospect that he could be a member of a fallen Keyblade Union, as Eraqus's Shade had briefly told him about. Obviously he'd survived the war between them. He was more experienced. Terra knew he couldn't possibly defeat him in single combat, even with all of his strength. He already had the armor...
Hm. So that's what they'd meant when they said Keyblade Armor. Now he wondered if he could summon his own...

What had Eraqus said before? The Ursus, the Agnius, the Leopardos, the Vulpeus, and the Unicornis unions. Those had been the five. The Leopardos and Agnius unions had been the ones to start the fighting. Destroyed worlds with their experiments. Brought the Heartless closer to the worlds. They tried to use the Darkness to win their fights...But Darkness has no master. Darkness doesn't obey. It only swallows.

Terra only needed to know which one Simon was from. Even once he knew, what could he do? He couldn't fight him, especially with that armor protecting him. If he didn't, who knew what kind of trouble he could cause to the people living here? He looked potent enough just without the stuff on, but after demonstrating what he could do...Terra was more than sure he couldn't handle him. He kept his guard stiff, his gaze icy with caution and silent warning.

"You have my attention," he said, his tone hard, "but you don't have my trust. You tell me what I want to know, and I'll reconsider it. For now...you follow me. You move wrong, you try and do something, and I'll fight until my last breath to stop you...like a Keyblade Warrior should."

Quietly, Terra glanced over his shoulders, watching to see if anybody were in the line of sight. When he was satisfied that there was nobody around to track them down, the youth began walking towards a section of wall that appeared to be a dead end. However, on a level below, were several gutters flowing into a dark, empty corridor--the underground--where nobody ever bothered to travel. It was certainly a safe place to talk, and rather spacious...but Terra certainly had his doubts. He was worried he would be called out on his bluff...if it came to pass that he'd actually have to fight, he wasn't sure he'd make it out of the fray still breathing.

He didn't pause for the other. The brunette was too nervous, and too anxious, to bother doing so. He swept past sewage lines without pausing to take breath, his pace like the wind, his steps echoing across cobblestone as they made their way down to the filtration system...a big, open expanse where all of the water drained down into a vast, empty void. There was a single platform there, suspended over that abyss, lit dimly by lanterns and all noise nearly drowned out by the roaring of descending water. Here, is where Terra stopped.

"First thing's first," he muttered, quietly. "You told me your name. Now tell me more."

[Simon]

And, finally, a change of venue. This is what he'd wanted in the first place.

He admired the boy's caution; few are those who wield the darkness, without it controlling them. And, that he knew, NONE are those who wielded the darkness without ever succumbing to it. Himself, included.

He mused, inside his own head, as he walked behind Terra, wings wrapped around himself like a cloak, tail wound around his waist. As he kept pace with the boy without an ounce of trouble, his thoughts turned to his own past. Ohhh, if this lad knew the sins he'd wrought, he'd try and take his head in a heartbeat.

...He'd fail, of course. Simon wasn't that man anymore, and he still had work to do. He wouldn't kill the boy; the good in him was obvious. But incapacitating him enough to leave, handily, would be a trifle. That was the last thing he wanted to do, though. More likely, he'd let Terra beat him about the face with that massive slab of orichalcum he called a Keyblade for a while, before feigning death. Let him believe he won, and slip away when the time was right. Of course, he was getting ahead of himself. His pas was his, and no business of Terra's. What mattered was now. And now, Terra wanted answers.

...A massive pit, water running in from all sides, with a single platform suspended out in the center. How absurdly dramatic. He suppressed the urge to chuckle to himself. Still, it was isolated, and it was massively unlikely that anyone would come down here. He let his wings spread, the expanse of metal glowing like the full moon. His Keyblade vanished from his hand, his arms crossed as his gaze locked on Terra's eyes.

"Well, Terra. I can give you a few basics, but, this would be MUCH simpler if you'd simply ask me questions."

Simon had a feeling that wouldn't suffice. So, he began. A compressed version of his tale.

"As I'm sure you noticed, I wield the Darkness. You seemed afraid of me. And, rightly so; those who wield the darkness tend to fall into it. I'm no exception. I did awful, terrible things, once upon a time... ...Ages and ages ago, now, likely before even your parents were ever thought of... But, not all who succumb remain lost. Angels can fall, devils can rise. I travel the worlds, now, doing what good I can. Writing wrongs when I find them. And aiding those who are attuned to the shadow, as we are, in resisting the corrupting lure, hidden in that vast gulf."

He chuckled, a bit, remembering what those ancient heroes had told him. They had been right, at the time, but, now...


"Don't let the Shining Ones lie to you, Terra. It's not easy. It's never going to BE easy. But the Darkness can be tamed. The very same force that birthed the Heartless can be wielded for the cause of good. But, we curious few must take care, like no other, as we hunt monsters, lest we lose what separates us from our quarry."

[Keyblade Warrior Terra]

Terra scoffed. The idea that Darkness could be used to help others, sounded purely absurd. He knew what the Darkness held. He knew what it had wrought. He knew the creatures that lurked within it, causing pain and suffering to anything and everything within their paths. Nothing good came from the Darkness...nothing. Only suffering, and pain, and sadness. He would not be an aid to those who were the harbingers of mistreatment. Simon was one of the Dark Keybearers, just as Eraqus had said. Just like the man with the golden eyes, the one who had brought all the suffering and all the sorrow that he'd had in the time that had never happened...just like Eraqus had said.

Somehow, he knew. Simon knew of his fear. There was a deep, lingering terror about the Darkness that he couldn't misplace. Terra had always been worried about the Heartless before. He was just as scared as everybody else of them, before the Keyblade had chosen him. But with all of the things he had learned...that the Heartless would chase him down relentlessly, no matter where he went...that there were Heartless more terrible and more deadly than he could even imagine...that he had once lived a life so earth-shatteringly different and so tragically destructive, that time itself had to be reset in order to prevent catastrophic damage...
The Darkness, and the man with the golden eyes, and the Heartless, all gave him a fear that words failed to put accurately.

But he was not going to let that fear be the tool of his enemies.
"I'm not afraid of anything, or anybody," the youth said, bluntly. "Whatever demons you have on you, I couldn't care less. You threaten any world, you put people in harm's way, and you won't have to worry about your past coming to get you..." He tapped a finger on the hilt of his weapon, the noise echoing faintly. "I'll come after you myself."

And then...part of what the elder said, tugged on his nerves. 'As we are.'  We? There was no 'we'. Terra didn't belong to the Darkness. He was a warrior of the Keyblade, a protector of Light, and an enemy to Darkness. He protected people from the Darkness--from the Heartless and their allies--and there was no force in this world or any other that could sway him otherwise. ...Yet he couldn't help but feel some ghostly reminder of all the ominous feelings he'd been given earlier.
When he'd first received his Keyblade...
The flow of time destined for these worlds has been altered. An unseen hand has diverted you from your original destiny. You, and the ones most dear to you, have been spared from their suffering but for a brief moment. You may yet fall into your ill fate once again, Terra...Tread carefully.
In Castle Oblivion, where he'd met the shade of Master Eraqus...
You should remain asleep. Here, between Light and Dark. You came drifting here. You did not have the strength to overcome the Darkness...or perhaps, you were close to it.
In his own, broken, twisted memories...
"You see how powerless you are to save them? Savor that rage and despair! Let it empower you!"
"You will pay, ---------- Was my master--no, my father--not enough for you? Leave my friends ALONE!"

"We?" Terra sneered, becoming visibly agitated. "There is no we. You're a Keyblader who uses Darkness, and my heart belongs with the Light. We are NOT the same," he emphasized, brow furrowing with anger at the comparison. "I don't need any answers from someone like you. Nothing ever came good from the Darkness...not the War, not the Heartless...and definitely not you. I'll destroy every last ounce of Darkness to see innocent lives protected; every Heartless, every villain, and every Keyblader like you."

[Simon]

Oh, by the Light...

This was the mentality he could not stand. The assumption that the Darkness was always this immutably evil force. It was just power. Very easy to use power, but, power all the same.

"So much promise..."

He began beating his wings, slowly ascending into the air, the wings still softly glowing with moonlight.

"And, yet, you understand nothing."

His words were not spoken with malice, or disdain, as the Seeker he once knew might have. No, his words were spoken with pity. Like so many, Terra was blinded by simple prejudice, unable to see that power was simply power, and nothing more than that. Good and evil were determined by the actions of those who wield it.

"The powers of Darkness are simplistic. Primal. You gain power with it, quickly. And, power is the greatest corrupter man has ever known. But, the Light has just as much power as the Darkness, and, though you're slower to gain it, the Light can corrupt, just as easily."

...Part of him knew how pointless it was to try and convince him. But, it wouldn't stop him trying. Nothing was ever black and white. His tone was solemn and measured, as he recounted his tale.

"I have, myself, met many. Those who serve the Light, with a fervor that most cannot even imagine. But, their hearts, while bright, are not pure. I have seen the Light, and the cause of the Light, used to justify racism. Faith-based prejudice. Outright genocide. Even against those who also serve the Light, but see things slightly differently. I stood with those the oppressors would destroy. And I wielded the Darkness against their invading horde. I held my ground, but, I was only one man. They overran the people I tried to help. Drove them out of their cities, razed their places of worship. And all because a few centuries prior, a Light Mage who they deeply loved died, and was put to rest, in their lands."

It was a tale that was played out, time and again, from one world to the next. And it was always an awful thing.

"I have seen the Light used to persecute. To raze. To torture. To murder. And I have seen those, who dwell in the shade, who wield it, emerge in the aftermath, to pick up the pieces. From Light and Darkness both, have I seen acts of the most sublime kindness, and the most vile cruelty."

He should know, better than most. The armor-clad man Terra beheld had perpetrated acts of both kinds, driven by the same power throughout. He was a living example of all the extremes the Darkness could take. 

"I can understand if you choose to ignore my words. Prejudice is a powerful thing, and it cannot be changed straightaway. But, believe me when I tell you, power is simply that. Power. It's all in what you use it for. A villain can, easily, wield the brightest light. And, as sure as daylight fades, such a man will be defeated by noble youths. Fledgling Heroes that will consume his vile radiance with a peaceful shadow."

This was not the time for grandiose presentations, and displays of power. Now was the time for reality. He fell to the earth, with grace, the silvery draconian gear, and the black Keyblade Armor, vanishing with a rush of dark smoke. His Keyblade vanishing in a twinkling of starlight, he approached Terra, arms spread wide, his steps slow and deliberate.

"Terra, you want to understand. Your own power, the Keyblade, the truths of the universe. I can understand that. I sought those answers myself, ages ago, and worlds away. I got my answers, on my own, at tremendous cost."

He smiled, warmly, extending a hand to Terra.

"Let me help you walk the path."

[Keyblade Warrior Terra]

Terra wasn't sure what Simon meant to do to him. He didn't care. What purpose did he have to coax him towards anything? What could he possibly gain from it? Whatever his reasons were, the youth wanted nothing to do with it. Darkness was not a force of creation. It had always, since its very beginning, been a force of destruction. Whether or not people used it for good was irrelevant; as long as Darkness existed, its nature would be nothing more than a means of chaos and pain.

Gnashing his teeth, the brunette held his ground firmly, his grip on his weapon like a vice, the blade pointed along with his arm. No good had ever come from the dark abyss. There was no warmth there, no love, no kindness, and no future, down in there. There was a reason, one he didn't understand, for why he shied away from the shadows so. Why they gave him such a discomfort. It was hidden in the eyes of every twisted being of the dark, within their glowing gaze. Somewhere, in his heart, in his memories, the real truth as to why the Darkness plagued his thoughts so much, was very much buried.

"There is nothing, NOTHING, you can offer me," Terra shouted at him, taking a hesitant step backwards. He wasn't sure if Simon meant to attack him, lure him into a false sense of security, or both, but he wasn't about to let his guard down...not on something like this. "You're wasting your time, and you're testing my patience. Leave my world, or I will MAKE you leave it."

Could he really? He doubted it. He could tell. He couldn't even fight off Jett, and he'd told Terra he wasn't even the strongest of their kind. Whatever Simon was, he felt stronger. But could Terra just let him wander around, potentially harming people? What if he refused to leave, and instead called the Heartless down on Daybreak Town for retaliation? Thousands of people, even if they hadn't been kind to him, would suffer, or die. He was a Keyblade Warrior. He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.
Was it just that he held the Keyblade that attracted all of this Darkness to him? Terra was beginning to have second thoughts. Everything seemed to point to an inevitable conclusion...


"The Darkness is nothing to fear. And yet, how frustrating it is that Eraqus refutes its power. Why, you could train with him forever, and still you would never be a master in his eyes... You're fine as you are. Darkness cannot be destroyed. It can only be channeled."
"Look as hard as you are able. You'll not find even the smallest glimmer of light. From those dark depths are all hearts born...even yours."
"Denizens of Light...answer me this: Why do you hate the Darkness? You accept Darkness, but choose to live in the Light. So why is it that you loathe we who teeter on the edge of nothingness? We, who were shunned by both Light and Darkness...never given a choice?"

There was Darkness in every heart. Everybody had their own demons to fight. Not everybody could be pure--nobody was pure--not even him. There was some Darkness in his own heart. He knew it was there. He'd felt it before, in Castle Oblivion when he'd fought to protect Stiri, or whenever he went into battle...but he would fight it. He was strong enough to overcome it. Not tame it, but annihilate it, lock it away for good. It could linger there all it wished...but it was not going to sprout and consume him. He would protect the people of these worlds, without the Darkness. He didn't need power. He merely needed strength--his strength--to hold the Keyblade and press on.
Deep down though...he knew exactly why he wasn't accepting it. It wasn't out of a righteous cause. It wasn't for the Light. It was because he was afraid of being consumed. He did want strength, power...the ability to defeat his enemies and protect what mattered most...but the cost...What was the cost? Nothing was free. Terra knew that much. Everything came with a price...and that included power. Even what he had now, the Keyblade, had a pricetag on it. What mattered, was how he handled paying up.

Simon's intent may have been friendly, but Terra wasn't seeing it that way.
"I don't want your path," Terra said. "I'll find my answers, but I will not succumb to Darkness. It might be lingering, in my heart, but I will not let it loose. Whatever you're trying to do, it's not going to work. I'll die before I become someone's pawn."

[Simon]

...He wasn't sure, but... ...Terra wasn't quite believing his own words.

Though he spouted off the dogma like a good little Keyblader, Simon could tell that he wasn't certain of it. That the power was simply that; power. 

Everything came at a price. Any power. All power. And it all had the same price. You would either police yourself, hold yourself to an amazing standard, or, let the power consume you, be a slave to it. And Terra...

...Simon could see it in him. Terra's potential was...

"See, that's what you keep missing. It's harder, with the Darkness, because the power comes faster, I won't deny that. The power of Darkness is the easiest to be overtaken by."

He began to walk a slow circle around Terra. And, in an effort to make the young man more comfortable, he was making no effort to hide his emotions. He had no malice, no ill will. ...Perhaps a bit of annoyance at Terra's stubborn nature, but, that was the closest he got to "wrath". And, even then, that wasn't much.

"It's not my path I want you to walk. By the Light, if you followed my footsteps to the letter, I shudder to think what would become of these worlds."

Had he overplayed his hand? Perhaps. But, he deserved to know what Simon could see.

"What I want to do is help you. Keep you from making those awful mistakes. Whether or not you choose to use the power or not, you have it."

Oh... Oh, did he ever have it. Not now, of course. Terra was strong, skilled. But, still, nothing special, as far as Keybladers go. ...But, that was now. Simon was looking ahead. Looking at what Terra could be. ...And, it amazed him.

"And, in terms of potential... You're like nothing I've ever seen. You would surely reach the rank of Master, just depending on your own skills, and shunning the power within you. ...But, if you were to take hold of that power..."

He was back around in front of Terra, now. And his expression, his body language, his tone, they all spoke of many emotions. Awe. Wonder. But, what might most surprise Terra? 

...Simon almost seemed afraid.

"If you took hold of your own Darkness. Resolved to control it, rather than be controlled. To wield the Darkness, to master it. ...Terra, I don't say this lightly; if you took hold of the Darkness within you, you would, in power at LEAST, be a match for the Masters of old. Those misguided fools who started the Keyblade War, so many years ago. What you could become..."

He took a step back, once more extending his hand. 

"Terra, I have many reasons for wanting to help you. Chief among them, what you could become. Regardless of if you use the Darkness or not, you could be a hero without compare... ...But, the Light save us all, if you fell, who knows how many worlds would follow?"

Simon, at least, believed every word he was saying. Terra had potential. And, if potential turned the wrong way, it could be catastrophic.

[Keyblade Warrior Terra]

The youth's frustration was mounting. Didn't this guy see that he didn't want anything to do with the Darkness, or in relation, him?! He could feel Simon's eyes on him as he moved across the area, circling him like a wolf does its prey. They were boring down on him, as though they pierced through his defenses. Terra struggled to reassure himself, bring back his confidence.

He was a Keyblade Warrior.
A protector of the Light, and of the innocent.
His heart belonged to the Light.
It had been chosen by the Keyblade, a tool of Light, the key to Kingdom Hearts.
He was too strong to allow the Darkness to take hold of him.
He wouldn't allow it!

The brunette wasn't paying attention to Simon anymore. He was too occupied with controlling his own emotions. He was straining to keep them under wraps, but the more the other Keybearer spoke, the shakier things seemed to become. There were flashes of voices and places that he knew he'd never seen, flipping in and out of his thoughts. He didn't understand any of them. He didn't care. All he wanted was to run, and find someplace safe, where he could think in peace... But there was nowhere he could go. There was no peace. Not for him. He couldn't run. His pride wouldn't allow him.
All he could do, was fight, and it was showing in his features. The way his body tensed. Muscles coiled. His expression clouded over with seriousness that was typically unbecoming of him.

Slowly but surely, the flickers of shadow, Darkness, began to show on his flank. He didn't notice it. It sparked and coiled like flames, licking at the air, trailing around. Terra was unaware of its presence, his mind fully concentrated on containing his rage, his frustration, his sorrows. This wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't what he needed! All this time, he'd been searching for answers, someone to guide him, and now after all this time... After all he'd been through, all the fruitless answers, all the strife, all the aching, all the broken scraps of memories, this was what he was presented with?! A Fallen Keybearer, tempting him into the Darkness?!
He didn't want to control it! He wanted nothing but to destroy it! It didn't belong here! All it caused was suffering! People he'd known had been killed, lost forever, because of it! Innocent people! And those were the people he knew about! How many lives had been torn apart by the Darkness? How many had suffered from the mistakes of selfish, greedy people? No more.

No more!
Rage surging through him now, Terra bolted forward, fueled by his fury. With all of his might, he charged forward, energy surging through him as he focused it into a whirlwind of power.
"NO!" He shouted, swinging wildly. His concentration was scattered with the randomness that was blind anger, and with that, his aim askew, but he didn't care. All he wanted to do was hit Simon, and hit him hard.
"I don't want your ADVICE! I don't need your DARKNESS! I WON'T use it! I won't hurt people! I'm going to protect them--because THAT is what matters--not POWER, not your WAR, nothing else!"
His power blossomed suddenly into a tornado of sparkling energy, in a spiraling whisk of energy that took physical form around him; not Darkness, but light.
"Back OFF!"

---

Command Style [Critical Impact :Limit Storm] Used. [CD: 4]

[Simon]

...Simon could see the movements coming. The surges of power. 

He, himself, even had a similar technique in his repetoire. Limit Storm. He could easily step out of the way.

...But, then... ...Maybe that wasn't the best option. Terra'd been entertaining his, frankly, pretentious babble for a while. But, this is the first time he'd been prompted to lash out. ...This sort of wrath didn't come with dogma. It didn't come with rhetoric. ...No, Simon was missing something, here. And if he wanted to make any sort of progress, he really only had the one option.

Ends of the Earth caught Simon directly in the jaw, the spiral force of the Keyblade's strike flinging him skyward. As he reached the apex of his flight, he couldn't help but smile. Terra WAS strong. The taste of copper in his mouth told him he'd actually taken damage. He didn't have long to muse on the fact, though, as he came down on the metal platform, hard, the entire structure ringing with his impact. The man sat up, slowly, holding the side of his face. He spit, a fine spray of blood emanating from his mouth as he spoke.

"That was unpleasant. Please, don't do that again."

Getting to his feet, a minor groan of pain sounded as he rocked his jaw from side to side. Yeah, that was gonna leave an interesting bruise. ...To his credit, he took the hit with about as much grace as he could. He was still a bit at a loss, though. If it was just dogma, prejudice, Terra, most likely, wouldn't've lashed out. He'd failed to notice something important.

"...Alright. Perhaps I've taken the wrong approach, here. ...You still despise the Darkness, in spite of my efforts to explain. So, it's your turn, Terra. I hardly think this has to be settled at the point of a sword. Tell me why you feel as you do. Why the darkness itself, and not just the people who wield it, is an immutable evil, worthy only of destruction."

He was, of course, prepared for the argument of the Heartless. But, the Heartless are, merely, consequences of whose who give themselves over to the Darkness. The legacy of an ancient sin. A misuse of power done long ago, that the worlds were paying for, to this very day.

"Certainly, the Heartless are a plague. But, the result of men misusing the darkness. Sadly, the fruits of a sin we must bear, to this day. But, aside from them."

Simon had yet to even draw his Keyblade again. He truly wanted to understand Terra. For the longest time, the only real power he'd ever known was the Darkness. He'd used it for good. Seen it used for good. And he wanted to understand Terra.

"We're both educated gentlemen. This need not come to bloodshed."

[Keyblade Warrior Terra]

His breath was slightly ragged as he began to calm himself--not out of Simon's words, but because he felt something stir within his heart--doing his best to calm the racing nature of his chest. The blue-eyed youth glared deeply at the elder man, his body stance still tense with battle, his instincts racing with adrenaline with the signs of first blood. Something in him enjoyed that feeling, that rush of strength, the surge of energy...but his mind snapped back. Something about that felt...wrong.
Simon had shed some blood. Terra could feel the ringing sensation of his weapon hitting meaty opposition as he'd unleashed his anger. Part of it felt great, great to unleash his despair and frustration out on its source...but the other half of him knew, so far, besides being a vessel of Darkness, Simon hadn't done anything to him yet. So far, he hadn't caused any trouble. He'd taken that hit with remarkable durability... Just...how much was he hiding from him? If he could take a blow that heavy and still be in so placeable a mood...hardly even scathed, truth be told.

The youth lowered his arm slightly, but his guard was as up and as sharp as it had ever been. He wasn't a bully. If he wanted words, he'd get them.
"This world is my home, like I said before," Terra said, slowly. "I've lived here all my life. I only just received my Keyblade, and my mission. I've watched Daybreak Town progress over time. I've seen so much happen here, though nothing changes for the most part. Families started. Homes built. Lives put into motion. Communities grown. People here care about one another. This is our world, and to us, it's the only one we have. It's what makes us feel closer."
He caught a gaze in his mind's eye, of the golden-eyed man again, but shook it away from his thoughts. Putting his teeth together, the other furrowed his brow in agitation as more memories came to his attention.

"I've seen nothing but destruction and loss from the Darkness," he spat, disgustedly. "People, torn away from their loved ones. Homes wrought with pain and suffering. Worlds plunged into nothingness, their people scattered and lost and suffering. Wars started, over greed and desire to keep Light to themselves." The oaken-haired lad snorted audibly.
"I know about the war. Eraqus was at least able to tell me a little of what he knew. I know about the Unions. Their selfishness, their hunger for power, all of that caused Darkness to sprout up, and consume everything everybody had ever held dear. It nearly destroyed all that we know. THAT," he stated, his tone edged with both grief and fury, "is what the Darkness holds. Whether you use it, or I use it, or someone else, it doesn't matter. In the end, it consumes and obliterates everything it touches...and I WON'T let it be what fuels me. Not now, not ever."

And shouldn't he pay for their suffering? A thought in his head asked. He wields the Darkness. He's no different than Jett. The only difference is, he's got a Keyblade.
He hasn't done anything wrong, yet.
He might. You should strike him down. After all, you enjoyed it. It was satisfying, to take out your rage against him. He does deserve it.
...Maybe he did...Maybe he does. I'm not stupid. Patience.

[Simon]

...Why did it all go back to the legend? The dogma? Surely, Terra hadn't been personally touched by the wars. Simon was only more confused by this. Terra's fury seemed to be from a more personal slight.

"You're not wrong. The powers of Darkness have been used to perform many atrocities. But, can you really blame it on the power, itself? If a blade is used to murder a man, is that weapon evil? Or, only the one who wielded it?"


It was, perhaps, the oldest argument there was. Blame the shooter, not the gun. Of course, in this instance, guns were almost everywhere. At this point, he wasn't trying to sway Terra. Plainly, he wouldn't be moved. At least, not at the moment.

"But, your anger is more... There's a greater disdain for the Darkness than could ever be wrought by knowledge of the sins of the Unions, the hell of the Keyblade War. All I desire, now, is understanding."

...However, the way he spoke about those who use it got under his skin, a little. He can't know the situation of those who wield that power. Not all of them did it by choice. Some were simply gifted with it at birth. ...Or, cursed, in the opinion of those like Terra. Others simply had to use it, because it was all they could manage. Still others, like him, were chosen by the Darkness. His own Keyblade hailed from the Realm of Darkness. ...Part of him knew better than to ask, but, he had to know.

"...And, what of those who wield the Darkness... ...Were never given a choice? What of those who fate has deigned to walk in the shadows, regardless of their own desires? Those who must depend on the Darkness to defend themselves? Are they evil?"

His tone shifted, on that last one. Until now, he'd been measured. A bit emotional, for emphasis, but, he'd been controlled. ...For the briefest moment, his tone had become aggressive. Accusatory.

There was so much more to this life than Terra could see. Who was he...

...Who was ANYONE to pass judgment?

[Keyblade Warrior Terra]

Terra's expression hardened. What was Simon trying to pull? All of this talk about weapons and wielders--was he really trying so hard to convince him that not everybody who held the Darkness was bad? What for? What purpose did he have in making him care about those fallen Keybearers? As far as it went, they were as guilty as the Heartless.
He's trying to confuse me. He thinks I'm some dumb kid, that I can be manipulated into feeling sorry for people like him...Well that's not going to happen!

"I don't care, about your kind of people, Simon," the youth countered. His body language was firm, and his tone was solid, but something was amiss. "Darkness is a plague, just like the people who use it! You claim that people can use it for good--if there are so many who do, why haven't they fought harder?! Where were all these people when the Heartless came to so many worlds?!"

The brunette cringed, though, on the accusation that there was some deeper loathing than what he let on. His heart stalled a moment. Could he tell? There was no way anybody could be that strong, surely.
You're afraid of the Darkness. You know you had something to do with it, in that time that never was. It lingers on you like a stench. You try to get it off, and it keeps following you. First the Heartless, then Jett, and now this Simon. All these things you remember, about people telling you its nature...it's not a coincidence. You feel its presence in your heart, and you struggle to contain it. The worst of it is, you enjoy using it. You know that rush of glee you get, when you land your blows, when your foes lay defeated before you. Is that not an echo of Darkness?

N-No! I mean... ...Yes? I... I don't know!
You do know. You're closer to the dark than you think. You're closer to it than you want to admit.
I have Darkness in my heart--so what? I'm strong enough to keep it at bay. Everybody has a little in them...but I'm not letting it take control of me. I am not Terra, the man who hurt his friends! I am Terra, the man who will protect them, and save the worlds! I swear it! I won't let whatever happened before, happen again!

Shaking his head from the fleeting thoughts, Terra glared furiously at Simon. He sounded slightly hurt, but the other didn't care.
"You are ALWAYS given a choice!" The azure-eyed lad shouted back, his tone mounting with anger. "Darkness is in every heart! It's your choices that decide whether or not you wield it! I am NOT a slave to fate--I'm making my own--and I am choosing to turn away from you, and from the Darkness. Evil or not, I don't care; whatever you're offering me, I won't use it! I was given another chance, and I'm not going to ruin it! I'll protect my friends...protect what matters, even if it means tearing down everybody and everything that stands in my way!"

Once more, he put up his weapon to fight. The youth didn't spot the flickering of shadows along his arms and back, coiled like snakes, slithering in the air. He didn't feel the coldness of the abyss curling from his own heart. The more he tried to prove his bravery, the more fear seemed to show itself in his nature. Brave and selfless as he was, there was no escaping Darkness for Terra. Pure as his intentions were, his emotions were his power. The power to guard others was his obsession, and it was this obsession which became his downfall before...one could only wonder if the events would circle once again.
"The Darkness took you...but it isn't taking me! I won't let it."
...Not again.

[Simon]

This insolent little whelp!

Who was he to claim knowledge of every situation? When he knew so precious little!

"We're not always given a choice. Not the kind we'd like to make, anyway. The Keyblade I wield hails, itself, from the Realm of Darkness. I was given a choice at a young age. Use the Dark power that had chosen me, or die. And, there were people I had to protect. I had to live, to see them safe."

What tripe. "Everyone has a choice." Not everyone. Not always. He could hardly fault Terra his bind idealism; he'd been young, once. But, even so, it still rubbed him the wrong way. How could you condemn such an unfortunate group, those who had Darkness thrust upon them, those never given a choice? He knew all the reasons in the book, and, he aimed to tell the man.

"As for why you don't see them? The good ones? It's because they're rare. The Heart, for all its poetic force and heroic might, is, ultimately, a weak thing. Many in that situation... Those who are given the Darkness... They are petrified of it. Of themselves. Those who don't take their own lives are inevitably slain, because they wouldn't wield their power out of fear. Others, who are daring enough to wield it, find themselves hunted, tried, tortured, executed. All because the people they wanted to protect were scared of the dark. And, then, there's the few who can wield their power, and dodge the lynch mob. They have the hardest task. The Darkness is absolute."

He began talking with his hands again, gesturing smoothly.

"Your body submits." His hands gestured to his darkened skin, his pale hair, and his unnatural eyes. Blue, like the charms of the Foretellers of old. One hand then lay over his chest. The power of his own Heart radiated out.

"And your heart succumbs. These things are absolutes. What determines whether you wield the Darkness, or if it wields you, is whether or not your Mind can resist. The Darkness must be directed. Channeled. Your will must be strong enough to do this, or you become the very monsters you speak of, when you speak of the wielders of Darkness."

He knew he wouldn't change the man's way of thinking in a single conversation. But, if Terra, for even a moment, considered his words, and truly thought about what it meant to have the power he has, then, he'd done what he needed to do. He had no desire to tame Terra. To mold and shape him in his image. He simply wanted the boy to understand. To look his power in the face, and deal with it, responsibly.


...Which, it was becoming plainly obvious, was not happening. Simon didn't notice it, at first, in the dim light of their surroundings. But, there they were. Jet-black wisps. Motes of pure Shadow.


He couldn't stop the chuckle from rising in his throat.

"The Darkness is driven by those things in the heart which can harm. Hatred. Anger. If you would read me the riot act, nay, outright strike me, simply for challenging your worldview... ...Well, then, the motes of shadow rolling off of you suddenly make sense."

...Maybe a bit of self-awareness would help?

[Keyblade Warrior Terra]

...I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE WITH THAT. -flails-

---

The other snorted, audibly. There was always a choice. If he had chose, between his loved ones and the Darkness, he'd fight that Darkness to keep them safe. He was a Keyblade Warrior. It was his job to protect people from it, after all. Guard the Light. Keep it safe, and in doing so, keep the innocent safe, too. Even if he did give into it...allow himself to use it, break his willpower to push back against that hunger for power, it would only consume him eventually, or worse, he'd be isolated and hated for it. How could he face the people he loved, wielding something so impure and tainted as Darkness? What if, by being close to him, they inevitably became close to it themselves? He couldn't risk something like that.
For now, as far as he knew, he had nothing left to lose--no family, no real friends--only broken pieces of memories he couldn't understand, fragmented and dim in his heart. All the hours he'd spent going through what he could recall, what he could dive deep enough into to unlock, he couldn't understand. Terra had nothing to gamble away but his own pride...at least, that what he'd thought at one point.

When he'd received his Keyblade, he had been told time had changed. The people he held close were no longer suffering, but his choices, and his alone, could prevent the same thing from happening again. Part of him, truth be told, didn't understand why he cared. They were people he didn't know now. Why should he concern himself with a time and life he never even knew? But deep in his heart, he knew, it was because it was the right thing to do. Somehow, he felt as though it would make him happy. Something to fight for. Something to protect. Something that mattered.

But then, Simon opened his mouth again.
"Your body submits," two voices, the second appearing out of nowhere, explained. "And your heart succumbs."
"So why does your mind resist?" The latter questioned, in a whisper.
Visibly, Terra winced, a hand jolting up to his forehead, rubbing furiously at his temple.
"These damned memories! Always with these memories! Either paint me a clear picture, heart, or leave me alone!"
Those golden eyes again...the man with the golden eyes. What was with that? Why was he so...prominent? Why did they remind him so much of the Heartless? Empty. Dead. Dark. Even Simon vaguely reminded him of him...the dark skin, the pale hair...even the somewhat leering way he held his gaze, a haughty 'you-know-nothing' stare. A superior aura on him came off in waves.

The shadows were flourishing now. They flickered and brimmed with terrible, trembling power. Now that Simon had mentioned their presence here, Terra whirled around. He could catch glimpses of them as he turned, curling off of his arms in a dark aura. Like a flaming mist, they twisted away into the air, gone just as quickly as they emanated off of him. The brunette spun around, glaring furiously at the other, clenching his fists in anger.
At least, at first. It was again that Terra noted what the man had said, that the Darkness fueled from his anger. The youth took a few breaths, in an attempt to calm himself, but couldn't feel anything happening. He couldn't really see the shadows on himself...when he turned to look at them, they moved with his body. He wasn't sure if it was even working.

Even if it did, there is no escaping it...just as there is no escape from your fate.

"I know I have Darkness in me. I don't care," Terra responded. "I'm strong enough to hold it back. ...But I'm not letting it take me, and I'm not letting it have me, and I am sure as hell," he continued, "not using it. I have enough to worry about, without making my nightmares real."

[Simon]

Would you believe, in the original Japanese, that line is even hammier than the version we got?

---

...If nothing else, Simon had to admire the boy's conviction.

Terra's willpower surprised him. As much sway as the Darkness had over those given to it, he should've been fighting for his life against a senseless, berserk Terra. And, yet, he'd only taken the single strike. ...A damn good strike, but, still, only the one. With it brought to mind, again, Simon's hand went to his cheek. Yeah, he was gonna be feeling...

...Feeling... ...Hang on a tic.

Simon did, indeed, feel something. He'd been tasting blood, assuming he'd bit the inside of his cheek, but, now, something in his mouth didn't feel right. He felt something... Foreign, in his mouth, and spit on reflex...

And, his lightning-quick reaction time let him catch the dislodged molar as it shot from his mouth. He regarded the lost tooth with a mix of shock and confusion. He then held it up, between thumb and forefinger, giving Terra a halfway-serious accusatory look.

"You son of a bitch!" He exclaimed, his voice both bemused and annoyed. "I'm gonna have to get an implant there, now!"

He pocketed the tooth without a second thought. Simon could hardly believe it. This neophyte had actually managed to disfigure him! ...In the most trivial, meaningless way possible, but, still. Simon began walking a circle around Terra, again, this time, looking more broadly. At the whole picture. ...He wasn't wrong, he knew that. Terra had quite a bit of potential. Admittedly, he may've overstated it, at first, but, Terra could be a phenom, if he embraced his power. Tempered it. Used it, without himself being used by it. ...But, doing off what he could see, himself, and what he'd learned so far by speaking with the lad, he knew two things, for sure. 

One. Terra HAD the will. His mind would NEVER submit. Something drove him, that would keep him whole. He may stumble. Terra might not be a slave to darkness, but, certainly to his emotions. But, he was reasonably sure Terra wasn't going to fall. 

Two. ...The same conviction that would preserve him from the Darkness could well let him shun it entirely. It would be a long road, rife with struggle. But, maybe, just maybe, Terra could actually do it. ...Longshot from the End of the World, but, still.

...At first, he'd wanted to help this man. Take him under his wing, steer him away from the pitfalls he knew were there. Now, though...


Completing his circle, again, he walked within arm's reach of Terra.

"You know what? Maybe we both went a bit to quick, here. Me, moreso than you, but, nevermind that. We may differ in our methods, but, we both want to protect what's close to us."

He smiled, again. No arrogance behind it. A simple, warm, inviting smile, as he extended his hand, yet again.

"Let's agree to disagree, and just be civil. Maybe even friendly, if you can put up with my pretentious lunacy that long."

...Simon had to either be hopelessly optimistic, or stark-raving mad.

...If you asked him, he'd answer "Yes."

[Keyblade Warrior Terra]

Knowing Nomura, absolutely.

---

Despite himself, Terra couldn't help but grin at the sight of the dislodged molar. It hadn't been the first time he'd done that to someone, even before all this Keyblade business. He'd lived most of his life that he could remember, fighting just to keep himself fed and warm at night. Sure, all he'd had to fight were people who picked on him...mostly teenagers and stuck-up adults who looked down on people like him, but it was fighting all the same. Regardless of his own position in life, homeless and without a family alive to take care of him, too haughty and fidgety for the local orphanage, he had always wanted to do what he sought out to now. If he weren't so frowned upon around this place, if he hadn't been chosen by the Keyblade, he'd have probably tried to get into the Daybreak Militia.

But, people like him weren't really allowed to go anywhere near the inner city. Well...there were hardly any people like him. Everybody in this town had a place somewhere. Since as long as he could remember, he honestly didn't. Now, because of the Keyblade, he knew a small reason as to why. Terra didn't think he'd even come from this world to begin with...and his destiny belonged somewhere else, too. He hoped it was on the battlefield, protecting the people that mattered the most. Even if he fell, if he died as a warrior defending the Light, then he'd done his job.
The youth had seen his fair share of broken bones, chipped teeth, cuts, and bruises. From what he could tell, he'd hardly even put a dent into Simon. He knew better. He was only trying to make light conversation.

Ha. Light.

Still, Terra's gut feelings said that this wasn't a good idea. Being near this man, talking to him, indulging in his speeches... And yet there was a tug of curiosity that, for some reason, forbade him from running. It mixed in with his pride, and his refusal to allow someone with so much Darkness run rampant in the world he called home.
How long would it take for the Heartless to get here, with the two of you wandering this world, I wonder?
"Shut up," the other muttered, quietly.
Why was this voice suddenly around in his head? It had been there before, of course...but never had it been so...clear. It was familiar, in a bad way, and Terra didn't like it.

"I don't trust you," he said, flatly. "And I don't care what you're doing here. I don't care what you're trying to pull. As long as nobody gets hurt, go where you please, do what you want." Terra dismissed his weapon, crossing his arms over his chest. "Put your hand down. I'm not interested in being friends. I only want to know if you know any Keyblade Masters NOT using the Darkness anywhere around. If I'm to increase my potential, gain more power, and become stronger, then I'm going to need a teacher."

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