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11.1.2017 - Kingdom Hearts RP is now closed. We'd like to thank everyone who invested time on the site for contributing to a wonderful experience which lasted for many years. All stories must eventually end, but while this may seem bittersweet, it can't be stressed enough what a pleasure it was to create and share them with you all. Goodbye everyone.


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Tristesse
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The replica looked upon the body with a look of strange contempt. He wasn’t angry, but at the same time, he couldn’t say that he even admired the man for his fighting. He didn’t perform poorly, but the reason he performed was what made him feel so frustrated. He withdrew the blade from the man’s chest, the space magic allowing it to pass through as though it didn’t exist. There was no wound, but the man’s bones were broken in several places on his side, his arm nearly shattered.
 
It was strange to experience the two harsh realities, the one where he laid the body on an altar made of stone deep inside the castle of Wonderland, the chambers so far into the ground that any magic performed there would only be sensed by the strongest of mages, two that Terradagger could count. It was made of a strange marble, and was quickly getting soiled with blood. Still, the replica also experienced the battlefield, as though in another pair of eyes, a reality that he could easily switch between.
 
Tristesse looked on the sleeping man with a bit of sorrow. He didn’t know what it was, but he seemed to have been called there as part of the Superior Society. Even so, if the fact wasn’t truth and what he suspected was indeed incorrect, he needed information.
 
The arm wouldn’t heal right the way it was, distorted towards the shoulder. He grimaced as he knew he’d have to reset it.
 

“Sorry,” he said in a cold whisper as he attempted to set the bone back in place. He put his hands on the body and closed his eyes, forcing magic through his veins in a small, gentle stream at first, until he was forcing a fair amount of magic into the man, working to numb him, though he probably wouldn’t regain consciousness for some time.

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Terradagger
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Terradagger appeared through a portal of dust and fire, water and air, and as he crept through it, he realized that something was amiss in his castle. There was magic being worked in the lower halls, and magic of curative process. He certainly hoped that his son wasn’t repairing any wounds that he had, and he was hoping even further that there was nothing of alarm down there. Still, the portal exploded and released again, and he was in those lower halls, standing over someone that smelled of illusion magic.
 
Still, it was an image of his son, so Terradagger knew that his boy would be watching and experiencing these things as truth. He put his hand over his son’s shoulder as he watched the already exhausted boy restore the health of the boy that was on the table. He was dark haired, and his skin rough, and by the looks of bruising that had happened as a result of broken bone, he had been quite seriously injured.
 
Terradagger knew that he was fighting in the name of his friends, but he couldn’t take any chances. Using the gentlest of air, he pushed the boy so that his frame laid flat on the table, and he bound it by stone to the altar, so that he was effectively chained. These bindings weren’t tight, as they weren’t meant to harm or anything of the sort, but rather, to restrain him. He was still a prisoner of war, and that much needed to be mitigated.
 

“What negotiations went on with Shirou, son?” he asked as the replica continued to cast magic. He looked with a bit of a sigh at the altar, all bloodied and damaged. Seriously, this stuff’s not cheap.

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Tristesse
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The Replica soon became real as space magic distorted Tristesse’s real location from on the top of the castle, having just arrived from Disney Town. As the words were spoken to the replica, it looked up, replaced with the real brown eyes that seemed more vivid, more… with life. As he stared into his father’s eyes, he got ready to tell some lies.

“Nothing. Shirou just decided it wasn’t worth fighting for the castle. He had weak political pressure, and we were right to usurp the king. He wasn’t a very good one,” he said frankly as his newfound stamina pushed a little bit more magic into the laying body. He saw that his father had bound him, and this was good. Still, as the magic prevailed, he looked over his father with sorrowful eyes.

“I’m going to have to leave this place,” he said with a bit of regret. He really only wanted to make a statement. He really only wanted to say, Don’t break down the doors to someone’s home, or yours will get stolen from you. But this had turned into full fledged conquest and know he was the king of a world that seemed like it was in shambles. There was actually no “seeming.” It was quite in shambles and ruins. Still, as he looked over the body, he had to formulate a plan as to what to do with the boy. Despite the fact he never killed anyone important to Trist, he was still an opponent, and for that he couldn’t let him walk easily.

“I took Tyler’s heart,” he said frankly to his father. “As punishment for defending an awful king.”

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Terradagger
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"Ah, what to do with it?" he asked himself aloud as he looked over his son. He took a heart and he was only fourteen. Fourteen and a king, and a death already at his hands. It was incredible, and at the same time, it was sad, and he couldn't help but wonder why he would do something like that, something of the sort. Something was changing, shifting within him, and it wasn’t great.
 
“You…” he started to say as he held a hand over his own heart, and then his son’s, only to feel a plethora of beats that were no longer synchronized, but instead synchopated until the rhythms were so far apart that it was sad to listen to.
 

He withdrew his hand and looked at the boy. “What to do with it?”

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Tristesse
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Tristesse looked up with sadness in his eyes as he sensed his father distance himself. It was true that he was having his own problems, difficulty coming to terms with the way that he’d been born into this world, difficulty coming to terms with his father Yima and his underwhelming love for him. He watched, still and silent, and his father took his hand from the shoulder.

“Should I not have done that?” he asked, perplexed. He was simply taking the spoils, as victors did, but he hadn’t realized what he had done. It would likely mean dangers for Trist in the future, and he was beginning to see that. He frowned.

“What’s dad going to think?” he asked, clearly referring to his other father.

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Terradagger
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Terradagger simply shook his head, unknowing. His greatest concern was that this would spark war, like was only particularly common back in the days of the Empire and Oblivion Wars. The ruthless capture of a heart was something someone would do back in the time instead of turning head and walking away from the situation, the victory enough. He turned away from him and looked at the wall.
 
He thought on it long and hard. Perhaps this was beneficial for research? He knew that his betrothed was interested in the sort of thing, and decided that the nature of the heart may have been under better understanding then. He turned to his son, and suggested it.
 
“But you mustn’t do this sort of thing again,” he said coldly. “This is only for his research. He may not even need it.”
 

He may not even want it.

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Tristesse
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Tristesse smiled with a glimmer of hope. He looked up at his father after staring at the body for a moment, his hands still affixed over the boy’s chest in an attempt to repair some of the damage caused. The fingers moved, as they often did, over his arms and then back to his chest, and then his side, and legs. Still, he took hand to the chest and then looked up at his father.

“Do you really think that he’ll be able to do something with it? What of his soul? Isn’t that the nature of those Dissident creatures?” he asked, guessing. He didn’t remember as he looked over the boy’s body, recounting the memory of the battle in Disney Town, if that had been something that they’d talked to Alexander about, but he knew that something was unique of their livelihoods. He decided he’d ask the boy as he took to.

“Dad, I don’t wanna seem like a creep, but…”

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Terradagger
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Terradagger already knew the second half of the statement. His hands flew to the boy’s clothing and ripped it in places to reveal the bare skin so that his son could place his hands in central locations for the healing as opposed to just ripping all of it off. That indeed would have been a little creepy.
 
As he looked over the boy’s body with the thought lingering in his mind, he made his decision about the soul. “We’re going to take it,” he said, but then he had to decide how. The way that Alexander had done it was stabbing the man and allowing some sort of divine ascension to take place. Cool was absorbed in a column of light, and then after the light, he came back a darker beast than anything.
 

So, would taking his soul make him Dissident? Or would it? What would it do? He frowned as he continued watching his son, this time placing his hands directly onto the skin of the boy, hastening the process. Terradagger could smell and even feel the magic intensify. Perhaps something had changed in his son at the thought.

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Adrian King
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A shroud of darkness from the ground rose, like a black fog that filled the lower third of the room where the Dark Messiah's body rests. From the ceiling a radiant light gleamed down upon them. A curioussssss one indeed. You want our puppet'ssss ssssoullll. What would you neeeeed ssssuch a thiiinng forrr? Hushhhhh....He issssss our messsssiaaaaah. The ssssaviour of our raccceeee. You. Why do you want his ssssoulll? the two dragons bickered minorly, but ultimately kept with their telepathic-like voices to press for as to why Terra wants Drakar's soul.

Slowly, his consciousness returned but not enough to be able to know or hear what's going on. Drakar had at least been conscious of himself and the lack of injury. He was numb for some reason, and all of a sudden, he burst awake. Screaming in agony, he opened his eyes and a silver light emitted from them. On his forehead a seal formed and he tried breaking free from his restraints. Shhhhh....Shhhhh....Calm my boy....It'll be ok. from the ceiling, an apparition of light descended. It shifted into a elderly dragon that was the size of a boa constrictor. He  flowed over to Drakar, moving in such a way he avoided the two men. Shhhh....I am here....As for you two. I am Ouroboros Golau. I would speak in my tongue but you wouldn't understand, and you're lucky Drakar is here. Our connection to him allows us to understand your dialect. And I mean no harm....Ouroboros Tywyll is just accompanying me so ignore him for now. I've finally accustomed to your language and can now speak like you, if you're wondering about the sudden change in pattern. Golau breathed a light into Drakar, creating little tendrils that formed all around and patched up all of his wounds and internally healed him. His body gleamed with light and finally the screaming ended and he fell back asleep. This would've been quicker had I got here sooner. Golau referred to the healing, effortlessly healing Drakar. He was, after all, the half of the cycle that breathed life. The Deity of Light.

Ouroboros Golau

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Drakar - The Dark Messiah
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I can haz Omens?

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Terradagger
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Terradagger turned to the dragon figures, an eyebrow arching. What an interesting development. Were they really creatures of their own form and intent, or were they here based upon Drakar’s slight return to consciousness. It was hard to tell, but all the same, he needed to learn more about these creatures and gauge whether or not they were threats.
 

“What do you want here?” he asked calmly and sternly, all in the same words, hoping and seeking answers. He turned to his son and made sure that he was still present in thought and in mind, ready to impart his opinion on it all. He looked over them, the lighter and the darker one, all the same.

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Tristesse
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Trist had very little to do but watch this situation. As the screaming started, he pressed his hands harder on the man’s chest, hoping to accelerate the magic, and then as the boy stopped screaming, he relaxed his hands a bit.

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Adrian King
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The dragon released an ominous chuckle, for he wanted everything to do with Drakar. No guessing? Oh well...I'm the Deity of Light he follows, and Ouroboros Tywyll is the Deity of Darkness. We come from our own realm, and we just so happen to care about our little Messiah. See, he's one of the few followers of Chiralism we have left. If there are none, we can't have a piece of this realm....Or should I say network of realms? Such a triangle with parallels and tangents. I breathe life into things, and Tywyll breathes death and destruction. We form a cycle, and we always make sure it's enacted. But if he dies, we'll have to rely on Marxu and he just isn't strong enough to replace Drakar...by no means does he have the same potential.

Potential is all we need because all he needs to do is survive. So, his soul. Is. Our's. I'd rather you not let this become...a problem. I am harmless, but Tywyll isn't. At least I have the leash.
Golau took a condescending take on his words, seeing himself as better. I'll do things....you won't particularly like....Or at least I would if Drakar didn't give him so much power. Bitch What was that? Nothing. Thought so. Anyways. What did you intend for his soul? this time, Golau was cold. Emotionless, a killer's tone. But he had a pet to do his dirty work...it was what he was best at.

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Drakar - The Dark Messiah
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I can haz Omens?

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Tristesse
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It was Trist that piped up then, not really taking a liking to having been ignored. After all, this was all his own orchestration. There was magic at play here, and a large portion of it was his own. His strength came from the vision that he had for the world of Disney Town, and it came from the strong bonds he was able to create in order to pull reign upon the world. He smiled as he looked over the body and then up at the dragons, first the light, then the dark. He scanned over them and spoke.

“We intend to take his soul for research. Something happened on the field of battle that day that we take much interest in, and it clearly pertains to the soul. We must find a way to use the souls, to keep them for our advantage should another strange event occur. We will be ready with information and knowledge to be able to tackle it. As for this one?” he said, a grudge welling deep within him. He wanted much to find a way to set him after Tyler, and he wanted more to set him after the girl that had appeared, the late king’s daughter, but he wasn’t sure how to do it without hurting the boy who had clearly meant only to do what was morally just and protect his friendship when he was called upon.

“Pray tell,” the boy said as his brows furrowed and his eyes darkened. “What is it that you think I should do? In fairness, he transgressed against the throne and fought off the rebellion at the side of child king that did poorly in his battle. He was a brave fighter, a valiant fighter, but I don’t think he’ll be leaving here the same. No. Instead, I think he’ll be leaving here rather different, and with my own design, it shouldn’t be very pretty, so I suggest that the Ouroboros make their suggestions and do so quickly.”

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Adrian King
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Tywyll quickly grew twice his size and roared at Tristesse but Golau hissed back and Tywyll shrunk back to the avatar's regular size. We are powerful beings...If you make such demands you better know not to anger the destructive one...I myself am not the child Tywyll is. I myself can talk to you...but don't anger him. The boy may be of some use to you as long as you comply. He will not be in your design...We will supply him with a new body and you may use his soul, we shall supply him with an identical one but new at the same time. Sadly there has been a being that piqued our interest.

Alexander was it? Tywyll wishes to feed on his false darkness, yet I want to feed on his false light. What we perceive as a corrupted light. We request that upon giving him a new soul, that a relic be made to give a pseudo-connection. It won't be there, but it will exist and not directly connected to the boy. As long as he can have his memories and hearts, you can have the rest. Upon doing so, make sure it is known he is....'dead'. We watched the battle, and the fools may believe he is dead but the reckless maneuver of taking his body might bring suspicion. So whatever you do to his former soul and body, make sure you finish up and use his body as a...doll of death.
Golau's words took more of a wise tone rather than a condescending one, as if he knew exactly what he was talking about.

I apologize for so much speech, but he is raised to be loyal to his allies. I will say in his defense he did so because he feels guilty for letting his closest friend die once. He doesn't fight because you're his enemy, but because you're his friend's enemy and a stranger to him personally. While this is no mere bickering, it is what could have been a war. And the death of Cool Star may even bring war sooner or later.

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Drakar - The Dark Messiah
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I can haz Omens?

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Tristesse
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Tristesse watched the dragon speak, and though the one multiplied in size, he was completely and entirely unfazed, not even a twitch of his brow showing the slightest discomfort. He smiled as the dragon reached the conclusion, the pinnacle of what he wanted for the boy. The messiah needed to stay ever present in this universe in order for them to maintain their strength.

He drew a keyblade, pointing it at Drakar’s chest, a lethal look appearing on his face, his eyes darkening as he twitched, shoving the keyblade closer to the man’s chest, nearly drawing blood. Before he did anything, he looked over them and his strength started to culminate in his heart, reminding him never to do something so lethal and dangerous without reason. Yet, he allowed for a give and take.

“The way I see it,” he said as the key turned, “this is a bit of a deal, and there’s some necessary compromise here. I would very much like to make you this deal, however, I want to leave behind a little bit of me.” The three hearts would come from the man’s chest, and Tristesse arched an eyebrow, surprised at how many there were. He had only expected one, but all the same, he raised a hand and nothingness magic grew from it, gathering around the hearts.

“This magic will not affect who he is. His hearts will remain intact, and his memories shall as well. Still, this nothingness magic is designed to be predator to nothingness, the absence of all things, betwixt the light and the dark. This means that, deep within him, there will be a strength that can be formed and trained to destroy those without hearts and without souls. He can grow to be a hunter of those that lack these things,” he smiled.

“And yet, he won’t know this, except when it happens. When the magic flows and he finds himself in combat against such, he will feel something strange within him, but he won’t quite know what it is. It’s upon him to train this magic, or to ignore it, but he will learn that this magic is within him eventually. This will bind his hearts with shield, and his new soul, to this body that you’ve devised. Hopefully, this will mean that until he finds himself fighting the voids I’ve mentioned, he won’t feel a difference in his new body.”

And with that he twisted his keyblade again, withdrawing the soul from the body, and clasping it within his hand. He would be its vessel until it could be taken to Yima. Until then, he would experience some side effects of souls battling for body, and he would stave off the magic of the boy trying to take him.

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Adrian King
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As Tristesse pointed his keyblade down on Drakar, 3 Tywyll o Dywyllwch rose from the black mist that encompassed the lower part of the room, all three surrounding Tristesse. Yes and if you do anything to harm him, well you should recognize these. Tywyll spoke in a menacing tone, ready to actually kill or at least injure Tristesse. Golau, alarmed, quickly warned the two, mostly Terra, about what the beings could do. Whatever you do, do NOT destroy them. Golau proceeded to open his mouth, and the soul Tristesse took flared with color, but seemingly nothing happened as Tristesse took it. As for the soul....We have what we need. Golau opened his mouth and the hearts entered his body, being absorbed temporarily. We will take these for now until we formulate a new body. Now. I request you leave us and him alone. he said, speaking about being alone with Terra.

Tywyll snickered with a dark intent, as the Argraff taunted Tristesse. Whatever you did on the battlefield, these have no minds to manipulate, only pure...destructive...darkness. An ability to hunt Drakar has not discovered yet within himself. Tywyll continued to snicker at Tristesse but Golau eventually hushed him.

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Drakar - The Dark Messiah
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I can haz Omens?

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Tristesse
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Tristesse nodded as he bowed his head and a portal wrapped around him, the darkness taking him to one of the other floors of the castle, where he tried his hardest to listen with magic through his ears.

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Terradagger
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Terradagger looked over them with more patience than his son had received, or even given. His eyes looked over the dragons and he simply waited for their reaction. He would do what he needed to make sure that his son was safe, but he was very interested in the soul of the boy and what scientific findings it would yield when taken to Yima. He listened, leaning against a wall and arching a leg up onto it.

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Adrian King
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Golau waited until Tristesse had disappeared before ordering Tywyll to remove his toys, the beasts being absorbed into the shadow ground. He gave the loneliness a few moments before communicating with Terra. The telepathic-like talk became actual telepathic messages this time, keeping the conversation between the two. Drakar is Dead. Remember this. He is dead. And whoever this soul and trio of hearts becomes is unknown to anyone. Except, I could use you. This gives him a lot of power, and an ally is what he needs. Someone to help ease his identity and silently assist.

While I do not know you and neither does he, this is a risk I am willing to take. He has to give up all of his friends, all of his identity, he has to reinvent himself and without any allies, he is doomed. Drakar will have to invent a background and it is easier to have someone to back him. With this, I will command him to not pursue new connections with former friends, excluding natural occurrences. This means he won't be against you and is eligible to be a friend and ally, as long as you treat him such. He'll be just a honorable I'll make sure of that, and loyal, but with the tweaks I'll make...he'll definitely be more stable.
Golau paused, having concern over the adjustment the soul will have to make to overcome a few of the bumps Drakar's personality presents.

While I can tweak it...he'll be less stable at first and will have to adapt to the change. If you can assist his adaptation, the goal we are assisting him with will come to fruition. Take his body, you won't need it, and present it. It is a legitimate cadaver, it is dead. And the soul could be in the Underworld. We just don't want assumptions he isn't really dead. But in fact....he really is. Drakar is dead, and now comes...Rasaad yn Bashir. Golau was pleased with the name, as if the soul spoke to him to request such a name.

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Drakar - The Dark Messiah
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Terradagger
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Terradagger was intrigued, but overall, he was unsurprised. He scrolled the dragon over with his eyes, up and down wandering over its length, and he found himself only interested in how he was going to better help the realm. He shrugged and then nodded.
 
“Fine. I will assist in what ways I can. There will be bed and room for him in the castle of Wonderland, and I will see to it that I am his ally, as well as his son. But, be warned, by life is a dangerous one and he will have to learn to defend himself once more. Wonderland is bound to be attacked sooner or later, as the worlds have fallen one by one, like domino pieces. It’s important to know that this is a fate sealed to him under my care,” he said.
 
Truth be told, he wasn’t sure how he got himself into this. He only really helped his son secure a kingdom, and as a result, wanted to be sure of his son’s wellbeing. Still, the boy took prisoners, and now they were here, being repaired by dragons that were giving… strange names, to say the least. His brows furrowed. He realized he hadn’t won anything on his end of the bargain.
 

“On one condition,” he reminded himself. “I will take care of him so long as he takes care of us. Anytime my son or I need help, he’ll be there.”

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Adrian King
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Golau was silent for what seemed like an eternity, but he had to do what was best for Drakar and save Chiralism's Messiah. The only anchor they have left, except there was another. Cool Star was dead, and they could prove their existence and make them his god in return for revival. But in due time, and of course it wouldn't be revealed now. No, it would happen. Soon. Fine. But I expect that the loyalty is mutual. His name. Rasaad yn Bashir. I will revive him and you will learn his....'history' in due time. Besides, there is a new found hate for the Superior Society. He's a keyblader....But there is so much more to his darkness. His light. We just need him to tap into it by collecting...Nevermind. Thank you for your time. It's time to leave, Tywyll. Tan y tro nesaf. and with that, Golau and Tywyll dissipated into thick clouds of silver smoke and purple smog.

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Drakar - The Dark Messiah
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I can haz Omens?

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Terradagger
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“Interesting,” the man said to himself, pensive, and overall unamused. He waited and watched for the boy to wake.

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