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I don't know what I expected after diving deep into my own heart, but landing all but weightlessly on stained glass flooring was not it. Suddenly everything seemed — muted. Tranquil, almost, despite the disorientation of going from white hallways to stained glass in blackness. It was still imperative that I find the darkness I'd kept back from myself, but the time it would take no longer mattered.
Glancing down, I suddenly realised that the stained glass beneath my feet bore a distinct image. I backed up, my steps echoing hollowly, until my heel brushed empty air. Now I could see the whole of the image, dominated by a boy in the centre. Black-haired and black-eyed, he wielded a lance two feet too big for him; his face was a grimace of rage, pain, and fear.
He was me, as I had been the night Radiant Garden fell.
Hastily I shifted my gaze, and noted other portraits by the boy's head — my head, I suppose. Four of them belonged to my companions — Rufus, Reno, Rude, Elena, also looking the way they had when I'd first met them.
The fifth portrait was Dilan.
Unaccountably, my vision blurred, and I had to look away. Blinking rapidly cleared my vision, and I looked back to see the sudden appearance of three pedestals, each with an object hovering over it. Words suddenly arrived in my mind, bypassing my ears entirely:
You don't have as much time
as you think... but don't
rush. Choose the form your
power will take.
I didn't rush, but I didn't hesitate, either; I walked past spear and shield to take the mage's staff in my right hand. Words arrived again in my mind:
The power of the Mystic.
Inner strength. A staff of
wonder and ruin. Is this the
power you seek?
Without a second thought, I said, "Yes."
Abruptly the staff glowed and vanished, and I felt warmth run up my arm, almost as though I'd stuck it in a warm pool. Inexorably, however, my attention was drawn to the remaining objects:
Now, what will you give up
in exchange?
Again, I didn't hesitate; Rude and Reno were warrior enough for our little band. Picking the spear up in my left hand, I agreed firmly to the next question:
You give up this power?
This time, when the spear vanished, I felt a chill run down my arm, as though something had been taken from me. But the 'voice' wasn't yet finished with me.
You have gained the power of
the mystic. You have given up
the power of the warrior. But
do not think your journey so
easy as this. The path lying
before you is treacherous. The
power you seek may be your own
destruction. Have a care for
what is to come...
Did the voice think I didn't already know that? I had no options left, no other way to keep Rufus safe and free. But I had always known it would eventually come to this. No matter the consequences, I would protect Rufus. No cost was too great.
Many tiny sounds reached my ears, like claws on bells, followed by a soft, vicious snarl. I whirled, raising my hands as though I clenched a spear—
A low thrum of power, air vibrating against my palms—
And a spear was suddenly in my hands just in time to block the leap of a huge monster of a hound. Golden eyes glowing like embers, it snarled and rebounded, lashing its long headtail. It landed in a crouch, far too soundlessly for a creature of its size and mass. For a long moment we regarded one another, getting each other's measure.
It looked about the size of a panther, with a similar body shape, but the head resembled a Great Dane more than anything. Despite its monstrosity, something about it was familiar — like I knew it.
Like it knew me.
The power you seek may be your
own destruction...
The voice could get bent, I decided.
The Heartless snarled at me, and I answered with one of my own, shaping it with magic so it was a near-perfect reproduction. Its ears went back against its skull, and it roared.
A wave of sound nearly deafened me, and I countered with a whispered spell and a lunge— a trap! The Heartless leapt forward while I was off-balance, raking razor claws down my arm.
I turned my shout of pain into a sonic attack, not knowing how, and simultaneously kicked it in the belly. Any normal creature would have been winded from the blow, but Heartless weren't 'normal' in any sense of the word. Fortunately, with the power behind my voice, the Heartless dropped.
Shifting my grip on the spear, I stabbed it down through the Heartless' chest, shuddering at the sensation — like stabbing a knife into thick gelatin.
Sharp pain cut through me, and I yelled again, losing my grip on my magic and my weapon, which vibrated into notes and then nothing. Looking down, I saw the end of a lance protruding from my shirt. I reached dumbly down to grab it, but it was gone as though it had never been, leaving no mark behind.
The Heartless keened, driving me to my knees, then glowed and evaporated into motes of darkness. They swirled around me like ashes, then reformed into an elaborate door.
Your journey will not end here...
There will be many trials beyond
that door.
I told the voice exactly what I thought of it under my breath, laying one hand against the door to brace myself. Sound pulsed through me as I dragged myself to my feet, resolving into a g minor chord. The dominant G burst unbidden from my throat as I threw the door open.
Wonder and ruin... Have a care
for what is to come.