Keyblade! A Deal With The Conquering Chaos

Keyblade! A Deal With The Conquering Chaos
Date of Scene:	11 March 2014
Location:	The Corridors Of Darkness
Synopsis:	Kaydin seeks out Garland in the Corridors of Darkness in order to learn more about Angantyr's Keyblade. He is offered a deal too good to pass up...
Cast of Characters:	Kaydin, Garland

---

Kaydin has posed:
Darkness. This place was one of the outcomes from the corridors and after navigating them, Kaydin came out finally with a black portal emerging to announce his arrival. The Former knight been tracking down keyblade wielders, and he couldnt find Mercade or Shiki but he hard heard that a particularly hated dark knight, Angantyr, wielded the keyblade and the only thing he knew of him was the man been serving some creature of darkness by the name of Garland. No matter what he researched he couldnt find anything regarding such a being but this didnt stop him and he now came here to see if this place was where the Garland could be found.

Garland has posed:
One who seeks Darkness will inevitably find it. This is the ultimate trick of the Darkness - it is so very easy to find the Darkness, to close one's eyes and slide into the comfortable night. The Light requires one to have the willpower, the heart, the fortitude to hold to its path, and though the rewards of Light may ultimately be greater, it is the Darkness that waits just off the path. A moment of laziness, a moment of lax warning, a single instant of foolish pride or anger or bravado, and the shadows can leap forth and claim even the staunchest heart as their own.

The Corridors of Darkness are the shadows. They are pathways through the night, ever-swirling, ever-shifting, ever-changing, Darkness beyond Darkness. Through them, one who is willing to risk his heart can travel with ease...but also through them lies the taint of madness and despair, of rage and sorrow. The path may be convenient, but nothing is ever free in any world - let alone this place apart from all worlds.

The shadows eagerly claim their own, here.

But even shadows fall to their knees before the night.

The Corridor rips open like a wound in space and time. No light floods in - nothing illuminates this space apart from space and time, this horrible place of twisting nightmares, trapped in the twilight hour that shadows do so love. Instead, the Darkness seems to part, as though it were indeed bending knee to the ironclad horror that now stands within it. The Corridor seals behind it, leaving nothing but the would-be Dark Knight Rebel...and the creature to whom the Darkness swears its fealty.

Twin pinpricks of red light sweep out of the slit in the thing's helmet. It is not a pleasant light. Eye contact with the one known as the Midnight Tyrant is...unwise. Even the staunchest of wills is broken by the horrors that lie in that yawning abyss. Knights full of faith in the light, shielded by their purity, have fallen to their knees in babbling terror from a mere glimpse.

For one who bathes in shadows, that gaze is a terrible, terrible promise of what is to come - the yawning chasm, the endless abyss, and the Darkness beyond the shadows the Dark Knights toy and tease.

The impossibly tall creature begins to walk. Its cape flows around it like the regalia of a dark king, and where its cape brushes the ground, tiny yellow eyes burst to life, Heartless swarming to attend to one they inherently recognize as superior. They are spawned by, and drawn to, the darkness of this Ironclad Nightmare, this King of Shadows. He does not harness the power of Darkness, does not wield the power of Darkness. He *is* power. He *is* Darkness.

Garland's gaze sweeps across Kaydin. It is an uncomfortable sensation. Kaydin would be wise to avert his eyes.

"You who desire the power of Darkness...you who dare to grasp the domain of Shadow...name yourself, and tell Garland what you seek."

Kaydin has posed:
When this creature came to be, it made the rebel gasp at the appearance. It was not however the appearance which causes the man to seem frozen but the power he radiates. Heartless form in his shadow, and the presence he radiated made Kaydin believe this was the thing he sought. If he could see Aerith now, when she asked what Darkness was, he could honestly say it was this being which stood before him. He does avert his eyes which causes the knight to flinch internally. He then turns to force himself to meet this being's gaze, no matter what every cell in his body told him, which was flee and pray to never see this thing again.

Still, One of the defining things about the blonde swordsman was his will and refusal to give in, course many call this Stupidity on his part. He turns his gaze now to watch this being. "I am Kaydin. I once served Baron as one of their Dark Knights, for suffering and pain and anger was something I experienced everyday and wished to make use of it to serve and protect others. I seek your apprentice, and the knowledge on how he aquired a keyblade, a weapon of immense power I am told." He says, his voice shaking a bit with each word but he did attempt to not look as cowardly as he felt at the moment.

Garland has posed:
Kaydin meets Garland's gaze. Garland is, for an instant, impressed. Kaydin gazes into the Abyss, into the promise of the oblivion that awaits all who wield the shadows and dance on the edge of destruction, into the promise of absolute and total despair that all who believe that can tame the night eventually fall.

To hold the eye contact for longer than a minute is to go mad. Mercifully, Garland decides to avert his gaze instead, casting his terrible glowing red eyes off into the shadows, just beyond Kaydin's gaze. Should Kaydin stare back into the Darkness again, he will most certainly not appreciate the result. Then again, who ever appreciates rebuffing the mercy of Garland?

Garland listens. There is no sign of breathing. There is no telltale rise-and-fall of his chest, no wheezing, no air slipping through the helmet's slit. There is nothing but the terrible red gaze, the chittering Heartless that stalk his cape, and stillness. Even the roiling shadows of the Corridor have ceased their ever-maddened twisting, as though they, too, feared the Nightmare Tyrant's wrath.

"You desire a keyblade," Garland summarizes slowly. His every word is as caked in shadow as Garland himself. Slowly, the Ironclad Nightmare makes his way over to Kaydin, the horde of Heartless in his wake following behind like a gaggle of geese behind their parent. As he nears, Kaydin can see much, much more clearly - Garland is *huge*. Garland broaches seven feet tall, perhaps eight, and every inch of him but that terrible red eyes and that visor of purest darkness is covered in purest iron.

Garland stops in front of Kaydin, the helmet tilted down at the Dark Knight. Whether Kaydin still wishes to meet his gaze or not, Garland has simply cut him off by virtue of his size, looming over the blonde swordsman like a statue. For a moment, Kaydin might perhaps fear some form of retribution, or anger.

But Garland simply turns, and gestures, his massive iron-clawed gauntlet encouraging Kaydin to follow him. "Come. Walk with me. I would know more of you, Kaydin of Baron. After all, a Keyblade is no easy matter, child. It is a great and powerful weapon, and those who wield it are the fulcrum upon which destiny's lever works. I cannot simply entrust such knowledge to a stranger. I must determine whether or not you are worthy...and whether or not you have what it requires to perform the necessary sacrifices."

"Tell me. Why do you seek to protect others?" There is no malice in that terrible black voice - only curiousity, lingering and distant, and the weight of endless, uncountable aeons. "What have others done for you, that you would go to such lengths to defend them?"

Kaydin has posed:
Kaydin doesnt stare back at Garland and when he turned his gaze, Kaydin looked away with an intense sense of gratitude for not having to hold that gaze any longer. The size of Garland causes Kaydin to feel even smaller. Even clad in his full plate mail, he couldnt even /hope/ to be as large as this being before him and now, without the full platemail, he felt almost as if he was an ant before a man, the difference between the two noticeable even to one as hard headed as him. When asked to walk, he seems surprised, he expected to be struck in some way or humiliated. Instead he walks along, a cautious gaze given to the shadows at Garland's feet, but he returns his attention. He listens to each word the giant said.

When Garland asks his question, he takes a moment to think his answer. "I grew up, always cast down because I was sickly and weak. I was put through more trials and tasks simply because I was not as powerful as others. I have seen what happens to those without the power to defend against something, and I desire power so that I can keep those I care for safe. I do not care about everyone else in general, but I will not allow those I care for to be taken from me when I can prevent it. As for my worthiness, I do not care if I am worthy or not. If I am then I will aquire the power. If not, then I will not stop trying to attain more power even beyond my death."

Garland has posed:
Garland barely seems to care enough to defend himself, let alone strike Kaydin down for anything. As Garland and Kaydin walk, the Corridors twist in their wake, shifting. Here and there, a child, sickly and weak, stumbles across their path - a shadowy, half-formed child, wispy and faint like the fog before the dawn. The child inevitably vanishes into the shadows a moment later, as unreal as it began. It has no features, no face - only the same yellow eyes as the Heartless, empty and tragic.

Garland pays it no mind. It never crosses his path, and he never looks upon it. If it is even there to begin with...

Then comes the shadowy knights. They duel across the winding Corridors, spectral blades clanging together with spectral sound and spectral sparks. The yellow-eyed boy is forced down, and the faceless knights begin to laugh their silent laugh. Then, that too disappears.

Again, Garland pays it no mind. He simply listens, like a patient teacher. He is an excellent listener, Kaydin would realize quickly. A most excellent listener indeed.

"So," Garland intones slowly as they turn, the Corridors going still once more, "You desire power to keep those you care for safe. You wish to protect those your heart holds dear, those who bring your raging soul quiet calm."

Garland's massive iron hand settles on Kaydin's shoulder. It is...ludicrously heavy, and terribly, terribly cold. It is not, however, painful. "Yes...I understand you, child. Your suffering must have been great, that you turned to the shadows for aid. Those who gave you peace...those who show you affection, kindness, love...truly, they must be more important to you than anything in all the worlds."

"How commendable."

Garland removes his hand from Kaydin's shoulder. The iron claw disappears back under his cape. "But you must understand, boy. Worthiness...worthiness is not earned by power. For the Keyblades are power - power pure and true, stronger than anything in all the worlds. They hold the power of hearts, after all, and little is stronger than the shadows in the hearts of men."

"You know this, do you not, Kaydin of Baron? That the happiness the people you love bring you is a barrier. A burden that weighs you down. Their power is of light and joy, of kindness and compassion - and that power can never be touched by we who stand in Darkness."

"But we have a stronger power," Garland continues, "Those who stand in Light need no powerful hearts. They have each other to rely upon - the bonds of their hearts are their strength. For us who stand in Darkness, we can rely only upon ourselves."

Garland's iron claw closes into a fist. "The hearts who worship the Light can afford their weakness, but we stand upon the precipice of annihilation. Before us yawns the chasm of eternal night, the Darkness At The End Of All Things. Only the strongest of hearts can wield the Darkness safely, Kaydin of Baron. Only the strongest of hearts can do what you and I do."

"That means that you are already closer in worth than my foolish apprentice. He took my power, stole the Keyblade from my grasp, and then chose to try and walk in the Light, to rely on the Hearts of others to protect him from his fate." Garland tilts his head down at Kaydin.

"But worthiness...worthiness requires *sacrifice*. Tell me of those you care for, Kaydin of Baron. I must know, if I am to offer to you what you seek, and give you the means to revenge yourself upon my erstwhile apprentice."

Kaydin has posed:
Kaydin listens to this. When the displays happen, he watches calmly before looking to Garland and when the hand comes to his shoulder, he keps his shoulder against the hand, a minor flinch but he forces himself to kep within the man's grip, to force his body to not run from the man's cold and weighty hand. When he moves it he looks to Garland. When asked that question he nods slowly. "I know it is a burden for their happiness and morals keep me from attaining full powers, powers which may be seen as unnatural to them. I also know that the more I give into the darkness though that the more of myself is lost in exchange for this power. I will not become some mindless puppet that light nor darkness use at their beck and call, like some content themselves to be. There is...a few I care for, a woman who's heart is not of the purest light but...she calms the rage and soothes the pain from my suffering, a woman named Aerith. There is a templar, Faruja a burmecian who is so devout in his following of the light that he fails to see that sometimes the light can cause as much harm as the darkness. These two are perhaps closest to me, Aerith is one I care for the most, while Faruja forces me to strive to become stronger to counter his light." Kaydin says as he looks to Garland. "Your apprentice does not serve your will? It is believed Angantyr serves you wholly by those I have spoken with."

Garland has posed:
"Angantyr serves no cause but his own anger. He arrogantly believes that he has mastered the Shadows in his heart because he has earned for himself a keyblade through his cold-hearted sacrifice." Garland makes a noise not unlike a scoff.

"Angantyr is a blundering child who knows only his rage. He knows nothing of the finer points of control, nor of any other emotion to draw upon. Sorrow, fear, pain...these are foreign to him. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and when it was taken from him, he bawled like a small child, wailing and crying for someone to give him the power to take his silver spoon back."

"I gave it to him. I believed he had what was required to become a true Keyblade Master. I was..." Garland's voice hangs on the word.

"*Mistaken*."

"In the end, he believed that it was better to turn from the path he himself had chosen. He turned his face from me, proclaiming his way the /correct/ one. He is perfectly happy to wield all of my powers, as though it required nothing of him but his anger. The Darkness will claim him when his will falters."

"I imagine you will not make the same mistake."

Garland waves his hand at the shadows. The little Heartless scurry, vanishing into the Corridors to give the two some means of privacy. Not a word is uttered, not a sound is made - they simply go, acknowledging the terrible power of that iron claw. Garland turns to face Kaydin again, stepping back to take him in in full.

"You want power. But you refuse to commit yourself. You want strength. But you refuse to pledge yourself to either side. You want to dance the line as though it were a princess at a ballroom, spinning it to your heart's content, playing with both Light and Darkness until you have had your heart's fill. Like a child, you believe them to be your toys."

Garland heaves a sigh, and his shoulders sag a bit. "I understand all too well. Once, I too thought as you did. Once, I too believed that I could master both. But I swiftly realized that only those who are weak of Spirit, weak of Will, weak of Heart, become puppets. Power is simply Power, Kaydin of Baron. If you are weak, you are mastered by it. If you are strong, you master it."

"Do you think me a puppet, Kaydin of Baron?" Garland inquires, "Think you that I am a slave to the Darkness?"

"I am its master. I have given myself to it utterly, and in return been given great power. The sacrifice was great, and painful...but the returns are exponential. Incredible."

"I have but one more question for you, Kaydin of Baron." Garland holds up a single iron digit. He levels it at Kaydin, stabbing it forward, and his cape rustles again. Beneath the cape, Kaydin glimpses them - all the gazing yellow eyes he thought had vanished. They stare up at Kaydin silently.

"You claim that you desire a keyblade. That you would die for this power to protect those you loved. That your ambitions can be chained by neither Darkness nor Light."

Garland closes his claw. "I can give you a Keyblade, Kaydin of Baron. I can make this dream possible for you. But I must ask you this, this most important, this utterly vital, this paramount question."

Garland's hand disappears under his cape. The eyes blink out. "Do you truly want it?"

"This is not a test, Kaydin of Baron. I have already made up my mind as to your worth, or I would never offer you this deal. I have no more tests for you, no sacrifices I will request, no temptations nor demands I will make. I ask only that you use this power well, should you accept the blade I will give you as your own."

"If you refuse, then I will depart, and never will you see my helm again. If you accept..."

Garland's terrible red eyes gleam. "If you accept, then you will have all the power you need to defend your Aerith from any who would dare strike her down. You could even turn that blade on me, if you wished. I would be...disappointed, in one so promising. But freedom is so essential to true mastery of the Darkness, I could not possibly deny it to you in good conscience."

"So then, Kaydin of Baron. I ask you once more."

"Do you desire a Keyblade of your own to wield in whatsoever fashion you wish?"

Kaydin has posed:
When it is said Angantyr is a spoiled child, Kaydin couldnt help but silently agree with the man. When it is said Angantyr used only rage and not the other emotions, Kaydin simply looked to himself. While he used anger, he did use sorrow, the sorrow of having to abandon his home, the fear of one day coming against something he may not be able to defend Aerith from, and the pain he has gone through his entire life. He simply listens when asked if he thought Garland to be a puppet, he looks to the eyes which stare at him, the Shadows gaze he could meet without problem, the yellow eyes of the heartless did little to frighten the man. When the man faces him, he tries to gaze to the man's eyes but looks away at the last moment, either out of respect or fear of the abyss. When asked that one question, he considered the offer. The power to defend those he cared for from anyone, and the right to even turn the blade on him should Kaydin so choose. He thinks seriously on this and nods.

"I desire a keyblade of my own to wield in the fashion I wish. I desire to keep Aerith safe." He says to the man. "What is it I need to do?" He asks seriously.

Garland has posed:
Garland is patient. Garland is patient beyond reckoning. What does time mean, to one who has already borne the weight of endless aeons? What does a minute mean to an immortal? An hour? A year? Garland simply stands there, unmoving, as Kaydin considers. Who knows how long it takes, in this place beyond space, without the light of a star to guide one's perceptions of time?

Finally, Kaydin speaks. Garland nods, as though he knew Kaydin would do so. As though he had known from the very beginning. It is likely...eerie, to some degree. It is much as though Garland had taken the measure of the man from the moment the Ironclad Nightmare stepped into the Corridor.

The child. The yellow-eyed, faceless, sickly child. It stumbles out of the Darkness in front of Kaydin, staring up at him with its wide eyes. Garland advances swiftly. "A Keyblade...a Keyblade is a conduit for Hearts. If your heart is weak - if you rely on the Hearts of others, of those you seek to protect - your Keyblade will turn on you and devour you. But if you are strong...if your Heart is mighty, and if you feed it well with many powerful Hearts, then it will become great. Greater than Angantyr's by far. Greater than any other."

Garland grasps the child by the throat and holds it up to stare at Kaydin. It does not disappear. It does not choke. It simply stares at the man, faceless, wide and yellow-eyed. "Born from the shadows of your Heart and the darkness of the Corridor, this is your Keyblade. Your sorrow, your anger, your fear, your suffering, your desire, given form."

Garland squeezes, and the child begins to wrap around his hand. It begins to change, slowly, carefully, into little more than a mass of shadow. "The true form of a Keyblade, Kaydin of Baron, is no different than the true form of the Heartless. They are conduits for the power of Heart. With a strong enough Will, and enough Hearts to fuel them, anything and everything is possible."

Then Garland thrusts the mass of shadows into Kaydin's chest with a single thrust.

Every foul memory, every painful sting, every lash, every blow, every whip, every strike, every sickly cough, every boy and girl who ever laughed at him - Kaydin's blackest thoughts are brought surging to the surface as Garland ties the mass of Shadows around Kaydin's heart. The pain, physically, will be immense. Kaydin will almost assuredly be on his knees, if not fetal.

But the power...! Compared to flirting with the Darkness as a Dark Knight is taught to do, it is as if Darkness runs through Kaydin's veins. It is as if he is exploding with strength, the strength to take on the whole of the world. As the pain fades, the pleasure surges. The pleasure of real strength. Real power. A mere taste of what Garland can offer. Less than a fraction of the dark god's true strength.

Garland waits. He can wait for eternity.

When the agony, the sorrow, and the pleasure are gone, only the power remains, dormant in Kaydin's veins, waiting to be called upon. And in his hand...in his hand is a glistening black key the size of a sword, with a tiny black-and-yellow keychain dangling off its end.

"Feed it the Hearts of those who are strong in the light, Kaydin of Baron, and you will be a hero without compare. No foe will be able to stand before you. No task is beyond your reach. Fail, however...and it will surely consume you."

Garland turns away from him and begins walking down the Corridor. "I look forward to seeing what form your power will take, when you have cut the chains that bind your heart and given yourself fully to the Darkness. It is my sincerest of hopes that you do this soon, so that you might attain that most impossible rank. Besides...if you let those chains linger too long...they may destroy you utterly. Such would-be friends have a way of deciding what is best for you with or without your consent, Kaydin of Baron. I should hate to see such potential, such unbelievable power, destroyed by something as flimsy as love."

"I will see you again...Future Keyblade Master."

Kaydin has posed:
Kaydin studies the man's actions, watching the heartless become nothing more then a mass of shadow curiously. When Garland thrusts the mass into his chest, he almost reaches out of reflex to stop the man, but even if he wanted too, Garland was too fast and the action causes the man's eyes to widen. He yells in pain as he does hit his knees immediatly and feels the pain of everything he has endured, everything he has been through, every pain, heartache, sorrow, fear and anger surging, every blow, cut and injury he ever has felt, everything brought in full force as he almost hits the ground to fetal, but he growls as he keeps a fist into the ground, screaming in pain as he forces himself to remain on his hands and knees.

When the pain and agony, sorrow and suffering goes, the pleasure comes and he feels the darkness surge through his very veins! Kaydin was already used to forcing the darkness into his body, infact it is how he strengthened his body to it's current level by enduring the agony of exposing it to the darkness to force it to become strong, but this pleasure, this power was beyond anything the man experienced before. The chain wrapped about his right arm shatters, link by link as the sword falls and the black key appears in his hand, the weapon looked with that same curious gaze, with almost childlike wonder before he slowly begins to stand, staggering as his mind processes the words the dark god speaks as he walks off.