The Snow Queen of Darkness (Open)

The more Xehanort saw, the more he wondered.

In a day he had yet to live himself, perhaps when he would become influenced by false beliefs passed on to him generation after generation, therein existed a certain set of rules. Rules that he was told governed the worlds around him. If there was nothing to guide the worlds around, if there was nothing concrete or set in stone, then how did the worlds come to be? If there was nothing but chaos and disorder, why should then there be intelligence to govern creation everywhere? These rules were simple yet absolute: the worlds were made of light and darkness, forever standing opposed. The three components of being are heart, body and soul. Within the heart is another war between light and darkness. To tamper with those delicate balances was to sow ruin unto creation beyond understanding.

Those rules would someday guide him and yet were a constant inhibition. Why must he guard his own self to a force that defined half of creation? Why must he endure the chafing hold of the light when there were realms unexplored in the great abyss waiting to be discovered? Why was there no further inquest into the mechanics of a heart, clearly the most powerful and most mysterious of the building blocks that comprise basic intelligent life? Why were these greybeards and grasping fools so content with ensconcing themselves so deeply within their high thrones, unable to find an interest into mysteries that dog the very way they live? Who were these precepts who believed such knowledge can only lead to catastrophe?

To hell with that. Rules were made to be broken- if Xehanort could not fit himself into their narrow mindset, the better for him to sweep it all away.

After all, would those foolish Keyblade Wielders, so self satisfied with their own flagging skills and their narrow interpretation of their weapon’s power, would they have found this hidden glacial utopia, an entire full world trapped within the confines of a young girl’s naivety and fear? Would they have been able to peer beyond the boundaries of their worlds- look beyond their grasp and find that a host of power, and prestige lay beyond the stars? Would they have been able to amass so much knowledge and power, the strength to plunge worlds into chaos through the mere flick of his fingers? Would they have been able to gaze deep within the light of Kingdom Hearts and perceive the infinity that lay within?

Of course not. They had no will to look beyond the obvious. They preferred to stay cloistered behind walls of ignorance, content with their stagnating presence amongst the worlds. What was the point of guarding the worlds when your understanding of them shrinks over generations? Would they be able to see better in the future when all they had left to hold them to their creed were a set of outdated rules and teachings that had barely adapted to the changing times? How could they hope to evolve when they refuse to do so?

They were not worthy of the Keyblade. Yen Sid and his new brood, they deserved nothing more than the oblivion Xehanort will grant them.

After all, what would be their first response upon seeing a specimen such as this? Would they even try to understand how a creature of darkness came to be? No, they would rather send it back to its well-deserved end as it should have experienced. They would never think to even study how such a being came to exist. They would immediately assess it as a threat or an ally, another random creature of the worlds to be catalogued but never understood. They never cared to learn, never cared to listen beyond their own self-satisfied point of view. If Xehanort would not eradicate them first, then the worlds will surely eat them up.

A conflagration of shadow erupted to life, next to a being instantly recognized as the creature that made this final crusade possible. The powers of time itself now coursed within his grasp in thanks to the dark anomaly’s adherence to the will of its true self. A regard was made to the screams upon the wind, in the form of a small yet brief scoff under the guise of the onyx hood. The lack of subtlety in the Heartless’ methods, though questionable in the eyes of the time traveller, found itself dismissed. Order perhaps. Concern or worry was needless, feckless, cast aside as Young Xehanort found pace match the creature’s in its approach to the throne. Steps across the chamber would echo about the walls. The youth desired not to steal this dark abomination’s apparent victory, taking pause to let the Heartless have seat, and gloat over its momentary triumph. The task at hand was however, all that fell to mind.

”Elsa has been found?”