Fellowship & Fairydust

My parents and I had just been eating breakfast as normal. Dad was checking the news on his holo-screen while Mom was helping herself to some more energy drinks. I was just trying to stomach this bland stuff that the government rationed out when the window became the giant holo-screen. “Normans. Sorry to disturb your breakfast.”
Mom nearly choked on her drink. “Professor Anton Yeller? Why are you calling us?” 

The elderly man adjusted his glasses before he answered, “Your son has been selected for the Herald Program with Yeller Sciences, which will be the world’s first step into space exploration. His involvement will assure his placement into a future career regardless of the history of his family unit.”

That was music to my old man’s ears. “Hear that son? Your future is now secure.” Dad said as he looked at me, his black hair spiked up like it normally was.

I glared at him. “No. I’m not interested in working for some geek.”
“Geek? Professor Anton Yeller is the greatest mind Harthyn has ever seen. To work for him is the opportunity of a lifetime.” Mom said. 

“My answer is still no.”

Dad looked at the holo-screen. “Ignore him.” Turning back to me, Dad’s eyes narrowed. “This is not a debate, Jason. You have a rare opportunity to work for the most influential man in all creation. With his help, you have a chance to get recruited before you graduate. And you’re going to take that chance. I don’t want to hear any arguing on your side. You’re going, and that’s final. Understand?”

When he gets like this, there’s no way I can win against him. Never had, and never will. With a sigh, I looked back at my food. “… yes, sir,” I muttered. 

 

***

 

“I knew going into space was a bad idea.” I thought to myself while I passed through the castle corridors. “I knew it, but he still got me to go. Well, when I get home, I’m going to rub this into his smug face. I won’t let him talk me into something like this again. Maybe I’ll give him a knuckle–”

A crash from up ahead interrupted my thoughts. It came from the study, where they were… oh no. Breaking into a run, I arrived at the study to find it a mess. Books were scattered everywhere, vials were broken, and Leon was on the ground! Running over to him, I saw he had some broken bones and it looked like someone had hit him with fireballs. 

I then looked up to see the corridor leading to the computer room was open. Computer room. Where they were… oh, no! Getting up, I rushed through the hall to find Ansem the Wise on the ground while some punk in black with red hair was getting something from the massive if primitive computer. Behind them was the broken remains of the teleporter. “No!” I roared as I leaped at the punk. “What did you do? You destroyed my ticket home!”
“Cry me a river.” He said as he backhanded me. The room spun around me as I fell over, my head complaining as it got hit by a hovertrain. Looking back at the punk, he finished what he was doing on the computer, and then caused a dark oval to emerge from the shadows. Oh, no you don’t!

With a growl, I got back up and tackled him to the ground while punching his kidneys. I prepared to slug him again when I was blasted back by something, crashing into the wall. As I slid down, I saw the creep get back up, and it seemed like the shadows were moving along his entire outline like a dancing black fire. What in Gri’s name was going on? “You just made a grave mistake.” 

“So did you,” I said as I got back up, holding my fists up.

“You’re going to fight me with your bare hands? You do have a death wish.” With that, he summoned the strangest weapon I had ever seen, stranger than even Leon’s gunblade. It looked like a giant yellow key wrapped with chains in a criss-cross manner. The teeth seemed to be composed of a knife and there was a red gem in the guard of his weapon.

I ended up laughing. “Y-you’re going to fight with a giant key?”
“It’s a Keyblade, and it’s no laughing matter.” He growled as he charged at me. He swung at me and I tried to duck, but that thing was faster than I anticipated. It ended up catching the back of my shirt and jerked me back. I tried to hammer drop the guy with the momentum from the Keyblade thing, but the punk caught me with his free hand. He didn’t crush it, but his grip was iron. Okay, I admit I’m out of my league. He was a disciplined, seasoned fighter, and he had murder in his eyes. With surprising strength, he flipped me over his head like I weighed nothing. “Pathetic. Just pathetic.” 

Getting up I responded by throwing another punch, but he tripped me. I managed to look behind me to see him raise his weapon, his Keyblade, up to impale me. If I was going to die, I would not hide from it so I faced him. I didn’t want to die, but I refused to go like a wuss. If anything I was going to give him a reason to respect me. In the next few seconds, I still cannot recall what happened. One moment the weapon was going to impale my heart, and then the next he was on the ground after a bright flash.

What surprised me was that after that light I now held a weapon similar to what he used, except it was different in every sense of the word. The blade was long and black, and the teeth of the key I swear was designed to look like a fist. The guard was like four metal bars putting the hilt in a box, and there was a keychain at the end shaped like a boxing glove. “What in Gri’s name is this thing?” I asked. In my heart, I could sense a name for this thing.

Born Fighter.

“You have a Keyblade?” The guy asked. “This has to be a mistake. There’s no way you could be chosen for such an honor. That thing has to be flawed.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking about these chunks of metal like they’re alive.”
“I rest my case.” With that, he charged at me, but my weapon seemed to fly up on its own like it was on autopilot. How was that possible? It was defying all known logic. The punk didn’t give me time to think about it as he slashed and jabbed again. I felt extreme awkwardness because I used my fists for every fight up until now. Time to adjust I guess. I swung my weapon around, blocking his latest slash. I tried to knee him, but he brought his fist down making me cry out in pain before he kicked me back. 

“I tire of this.” He said as he raised his Keyblade, and– divine phardu! It changed into a bazooka he rested on his shoulder. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. “Chaos Cannon.”  As he pulled the trigger, I tried to roll out of the way. However, there was a burst of darkness from that thing, pain, and then nothing.

 

***

 

“Jason? Jason!” I heard someone call my name as I opened my eyes to find Clair leaning over me. Groaning, I raised my head to see Ansem the Wise resting against his computer while Aerith looked over him. Pain racked through my body as I tried to sit up, and Clair put her hand on my shoulder. “Not so fast.”

“Where’s… that…?” I tried to ask but it hurt to talk. 

“Gone. Along with the data he sought,” Ansem told us. “Mortem managed to crack through the layers of firewalls and encryptions Tron and I placed around that information.” 

“Mortem?” Clair asked. 

I looked at her. “Must be… jerk who… destroyed…”

“It’ll take months to build another.” The scientist king told us with sadness. “I am sorry.”

“What bothers me is that Mortem could use a Keyblade,” Leon said as he walked in. 

“Keyblade?”
“Like… gunblade… except… giant key…” I said. “Fought him…” Clenching my fist, I managed to pound it against the ground. “Mortem… will… pay.” Then, in an instant, my Keyblade, the Born Fighter, appeared in my hand, making my cousin jump while everyone else was shocked to see it. 

“What in Gri’s name is that?” Clair asked me with a hand over her heart. 

Leon just looked at me. “How long could you use a Keyblade?” 

“Just now.” It was hurting too much to talk. 

Aerith looked at her king and friend. “This changes things.”

With a nod, Ansem looked at us. “There is much you need to know.”

 

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