![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Long, Long Before
Knowing that he would one day disappear from the world, the Master of Masters took six apprentices, granting each of them a Keyblade and a name. To five of these apprentices, he gave a copy of his Book of Prophecy, and the last he sent away, never to return to the Master’s town.
Ira, Apprentice of the Unicorn, finds his Master on the cliff overlooking Daybreak Town. His hands are clasped behind his back, and although Ira’s sure he made no sound as he approached, the Master notices him anyway.
His head turns to one side, and Ira finds himself looking at the shadows inside the Master’s hood.
“So,” the Master says, cheerfully. “Did you look through the Book?”
“Yes,” Ira says. “But I’m still -- analysing it.”
The Master gives a half laugh, turning. “Wow. No quick skim for you, huh?”
Ira can’t tell if the Master’s making a joke at his expense or not, but he feels suddenly ashamed anyway, as if he should have been as carefree about it as Ava, or as quick to see all the nuances in the Master’s strange, meandering writing style as Gula or Invi.
“I just -- like to be thorough,” he says, lamely. “But Master, is what it says in the last passage true?”
“Oh, that?” The Master sounds like he’d forgotten all about it. “Bummer, huh?”
“Y-Yes.”
“By the way,” the Master chirps, bright as anything. “If I should disappear one day, I’m counting on you to keep the others calm, ‘kay?”
He sits down on the grass, watching the town again, as Ira struggles for words. “Disappear?”
“Vanish? Dim? Fade?” The Master waggles his fingers in a vague motion that Ira doesn’t quite understand. “Ah, I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just hypothetical talk.”
Ira frowns under his mask. “Okay.”
“This world is full of light,” the Master says, tone suddenly serious. “It’s a world comprised of many smaller worlds, all connected, stretching far as the eye can see.”
As Ira watches, the Master plucks up a ball of dandelion seeds, spinning it about between his fingers.
“One great light protects us all throughout this vast land. All worlds share one light. One fate.”
“I take it you’re talking about Kingdom Hearts?”
“Right on the munny! People believe that the light that is Kingdom Hearts will be here forever, but if it were to disappear,” the Master snaps the dandelion’s stalk, “darkness would envelop the world.”
“I understand,” Ira says. “That’s why you gave us these keyblades. With these, we can spread the teachings of light, and we can protect Kingdom Hearts from the darkness.”
“No, they’re not for protecting Kingdom Hearts. You’ve read the final passage in your Books, right? ‘On that fated land, a great war shall transpire. Darkness will prevail, and the light expire.’”
“Isn’t it our duty to prevent this war from taking place?”
The Master hops to his feet, stretching out his shoulders. “Nah, not -- not possible. You really think you can change the future? We have to think about what happens after.”
“But -- what about the ones who are already here? And the ones who will be here when the darkness comes? Are we to abandon them?”
The Master laughs, meandering past Ira. “Aw, c’mon. You really think the world can be saved by just seven people?” His voice is mocking, as if the very idea is just absurd.
“We could gather more people!” Ira ventures. “With enough keyblade wielders, we could -- …”
“We-e-ell, if you want to give it a shot,” the Master says, and Ira can’t shake the feeling he’s being mocked again.
“I do.”
“Alright!” The Master chirps. “Have fun with that!”
“So, I’ll need you to observe the others. Easy-peasy,” the Master chirps, clapping a hand onto Invi’s shoulder.
A Moogle had come to call Invi, Apprentice of the Snake, up to the Master’s study only a few days after Ira had announced that he would be forming Unions of keybearers, whole armies of keyblade-wielding warriors, with the Master’s blessing.
(Or, Invi noted once Ira had told her the whole story, ‘blessing.’)
Truth be told, she hadn’t been sure what to make of Ira’s proposal. But the Master had named him their new leader.
“Don’t be afraid to talk up!” The Master continues. “Even though I say ‘observe,’ you’ll need to be the mediator. Make sure people get along.”
“I understand,” Invi says. “But without you or Luxu, to form and maintain our own Unions is -- it’s a little unnerving.”
“C’mon, lighten up a little!” The Master chirps. “Maybe I’ll never disappear. Or …” He claps one hand to his chest, in an overwrought performance of grief. “Do you … want me to go?”
“No! Of course not!”
“I was just kidding.”
“O-Oh. I see.”
“Look,” the Master says. “I get that change can be hard for everyone. Bu-u-ut, things need to keep moving forward, and you need to keep up, or else you’ll just be left behind. All alone. Again.”
Invi has no idea what to say to that, but the Master’s voice is light and cheerful.
“So, now that you know what the future holds, Invi, what does your heart say? ‘May your heart be your guiding key!’ I say it all the time. You ultimately need to do what your heart feels is right.”
Aced, Apprentice of the Bear, treads cautiously into the empty study.
“Been here long?”
The Master’s voice from behind him makes him nearly jump out of his skin. The Master ambles past him, hands clasped behind his back. He walks, painfully slowly, until he reaches his chair to slump down into.
“So,” the Master says, “did you need something?”
Aced blinks. “Don’t tell me you forgot! You called me here!”
The Master laughs, shaking his head. “Relax, I didn’t forget, give me a little credit. I was, er, testing you.” He clears his throat. “Now then: You’re going to be Ira’s right-hand man.”
Aced blinks under his mask. “What?”
He hates, a little, that his voice betrays how disappointed he is.
“Whaaaat?” The Master swings his head about, regarding Aced from within the shadows of his black coat. “Did … did you want to be the leader?”
He’s mocking him. Aced knows the Master is mocking him, and all he can do is feel angry and ashamed and wonder exactly how he disappointed the Master so much that it would be so ridiculous that he’d want to lead.
“N-No! I mean, if you had asked me to be the leader, well, that would be a different story, but I wasn’t trying …”
“You really want to be the leader, huh?” The Master asks, and Aced can just tell that he’s having the time of his life. Aced doesn’t have a chance to reply before the Master’s voice drops from ‘mocking’ into ‘sympathetic.’ “I know you want it, but enthusiasm alone isn’t enough. Any chump can go ‘you, here’s a promotion, good job!’ but that won’t make you a great leader.”
“I agree!” Aced finds himself saying, desperately. “Ira is … is definitely the most worthy … among us …” He finds himself trailing off at the end.
“Awesome! That’s settled, then.”
“Wait, I agreed that he’s worthy, but why do we need a new leader? Are you going to stop teaching us?”
The Master goes still and quiet for a moment. Then, gravely: “Well, I might disappear one day.”
Aced just stares at him.
The Master pauses, then clears his throat irritably. “Well, I might disappear one -- …”
“Disappear?! Why?! Where?!”
“Speak up sooner if you’re listening,” the Master whines. “That was embarrassing for me!”
He sulks for a moment. “In any case, you need to look out for Ira. It might not be what you hoped for, but just remember it’s the most important role, capisce?”
“Huh?”
“Shall I elaborate? Making Ira the leader is all good, but some time later you might think ‘awwww, Ira’s terrible at this!’” Aced can’t help but note that the Master’s impression of him is high-pitched and whiny. “In which case, you might have to step up. Who knows? Your leadership might be just what everybody needs.”
Gula, Apprentice of the Leopard, enters to find the Master reading his own Book, making thoughtful, enthusiastic noises.
“Hmm, yes, I see, I see, good …”
“... Master? Should I came back later?”
“Sure.”
Gula is turning to leave when the Master waves a hand at him.
“No, no, no, no, stay, stay. Now here it is …” He tears a page out from the middle of the book and rises, holding it out. “Go on. Read it.”
Gula skimreads it, blinking. “This is from the Book of Prophecies, but -- …”
“Yep. It’s a page none of the others have. And what’s written there is your role: You must find the traitor that lurks among you, and stop them before it’s too late, and in order to help you find the traitor -- …”
“I get it!” Gula says, excitably. “That’s why you gave us all different roles. If anyone deviates from the job they’re given, we can easily conclude that they’re the traitor.”
“Way to steal my thunder, show-off!” The Master teases. His voice goes from joking to sulky in a split second. “It’s not fair. My plan was supposed to blow your mind with its grandeur! Your jaw should have hit the floor at its sheer genius!”
“... Sorry? But was my logic flawed?”
The Master sighs. “No, you’re right. Just remember: Even though there is a traitor, act normal and keep focused. Trust nobody but yourself.”
Beat.
“‘Kay, you have fun with that!” The Master adds.
Ava, Apprentice of the Fox, tries to meet the Master’s gaze. The fact that she can’t see his eyes makes that -- difficult.
“What’s written in the Book is going to happen,” the Master says. “The entire world will be lost to darkness. You might be our only hope.”
“But what can I do?” Ava asks.
The Master approaches, looming over her, and slowly settles one hand onto her head. Softly: “Don’t get involved in any battles. Forget the notion of Unions. Find keybearers and then, like the seeds of a dandelion, let them fly to another world. They will keep the light alive.”
“You really think I’m the right person for this?” Ava asks.
“Ava,” the Master says, gently. “You’re the only person for this.”
Luxu, Apprentice of the Goat, is the last of the Foretellers to visit the Master.
“So,” the Master says before even greeting him. “That makes you lucky number seven.”
“Er.”
“What? You six, plus me, is seven. Wait, wait, don’t tell me that I don’t count,” the Master says, suddenly all distress. He calms quickly, hopping to his feet, and holds out a hand, summoning a keyblade into it: Black and grey, with a goat’s head carved into the pommel, and a blue eye on one end. “Here.”
Luxu takes it, turning it about in his hand. The eye is moving. “... Gazing Eye?”
“That’s not its name,” the Master says, wryly. “Actually, it doesn’t have one. No name.”
Luxu stares at the keyblade. It’s not so different from those the other apprentices were given, but the Master had always said he wasn’t ready for one. “No Name.”
“Well, ‘gazing’ or not, it does have an eye in it. My eye, to be exact.”
Luxu recoils instinctively.
The Master immediately launches into a performance of anger. “Oh, you think that’s gross, huh?!”
“N-No! Of course not!” Luxu lies.
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” the Master says, shrugging. “Anyway, ‘bout your role. You need to pass that keyblade down to an apprentice, and him to his, so that my eye can see into the future.”
“So the Book of Prophecies …”
“Bingo! The fact that it exists means you’ve found a worthy apprentice, passed down that handsome keyblade, and fulfilled your role! Congratulations!”
The Master starts applauding so hard that his chair nearly falls over, canting his head to peer at Luxu as he does so.
“What’s the matter?” He asks eventually. “You did a fantastic job! At least smile a little!”
“But I haven’t done anything yet.”
The Master laughs. “Fair point. You’d better get started. Unfortunately, you’ll have to go it alone, no Book of Prophecies for you. I can’t have you causing any temporal paradoxes.”
“What about the others?”
“Who cares? For now, you, that keyblade, and this box,” the Master jumps to his feet, pulling a heavy box with twenty locks from under a table, “need to stay out of sight.”
“What’s in it?”
“It’s a secret! But, here’s the great bit: You can never, ever open it.”
Luxu rolls his eyes. “Great, now I really want to know.”
“You do, huh? Okay, I’ll indulge you. But you have to promise not to open it.”
The Master beckons Luxu closer, then leans down, whispering into his ear. Luxu feels his stomach drop, and something heavy tighten in his chest, and for a moment, he doubts whether he heard the Master right.
“What? Why?”
“You’ll see.”