[center][b]1:  Concern and Curiosity[/b][/center]

A testament to fallen warriors.  A world scarred by war.  The Keyblade Graveyard.  Barren, bereft of all life... Well, almost all life.

Lidia awoke not just hours earlier, curious and concerned.  She awoke in a place that she didn't recognize, and she met a stranger.  True, her father told her to be wary of strangers, but she was a trusting person.  It was her nature to be open with people, even if she knew nothing about them.  But she never thought about those kinds of things.  All that mattered was finding her father.  He cared for her, he guided her, he told her important things.  And despite the things that she made her go through, she loved her father, as daughters should do.

She nibbles a bit on her right thumbnail as she wanders around the arid wasteland, winds and dust buffeting against her tiny frame.  All the wandering has made her tired, thirsty, and nearing the verge of a small emotional breakdown.  True, she had been alone for stretches of time, but she always knew that her father would be there for her.  But now, that feeling had vanished.  She reaches into the folds of her dress and looks at the shard that the stranger (Joseph, if she remembered correctly) had handed her.  What did he say?  'Just think of me while holding it and I'll come find you.'  She wanted to leave...  But the fatigue takes hold.  She faints and drops to the ground, her Valor Shard falling away from her and being thrown into a deep gulch by the high winds.  Around her, a small number of Shadows begin to converge.

Across the way, there is another figure, this one more focused on the weapon in his hands.  That which was left over, the Vanitas Remnant, swings his Void Gear time after time, continuing to train his body.  Even though he was a remnant, he remembered how close he was to fully obtaining the ultimate weapon, the X-Blade.  He held it in his hands, he held it!  But those goody-goodies both inside his mind and outside in the real world ended up ruining that.  It cost the original his existance, but there was enough for him to be remade.  A shade of a being formed of a divided heart.  He had to work himself up to be better than the original.  He couldn't allow himself to make the same mistakes, to be as weak as he perceived himself to be.

However, the Remnant's training is put on hold.  Dismissing his Keyblade, he turns towards one of the plateaus in the distance, noticing movement, the kind that was not due to the winds.  He dashes towards the edge of his section of land and gazes.  It was quite a distance, but it appeared to him that a fallen young girl was being surrounded by Heartless.  Serves her right, he thinks.  However, he pauses as the Heartless don't attack her.  It was certainly odd, he would admit that much.  The only reason that the Heartless wouldn't attack someone so vulnerable was if...  The young man's eyebrows slightly rise underneath his mask.  The only way that someone in such a state of vulnerability could not be attacked by the Heartless was if they were so encompassed with darkness.  A smirk creases his hidden face.  This would be interesting...

The Shadows surrounded Lidia, scuttling and swaying within the tepid winds.  They were attracted by all the darkness within her heart.  It was such a beacon...  Normally, they would feast upon that darkness without impugnation.  But they couldn't.  The darkness within her heart made her seem like them in so many ways.Some time passed before they finally acted. Instead of feasting, they did something that was inherantly alien to them: they sought to ensure her survival, albeit by ways that seemed barbaric.  One Shadow was grabbed by two others, and torn apart.  The majority of the creature vanishes into black smoke, but some small dark droplets are caught by a fourth Shadow and are placed within Lidia's mouth, bypassing the veil over her face.

Lidia begins to stir, moaning a little bit as she gulps down her hastily-acquired sustenance.  She pushes herself back up to a sitting position, gazing at the Shadows that stand there.  "Did... did you help me?"  She gets no response, which leaves her puzzled.  "What's the matter?  Can't you speak?"  They merely move a bit closer to her.  "Maybe you can't... or maybe I can't hear you.  But if you did help me, thank you."  She gets back to her feet, dusting off her dress of the powdered earth beneath her feet.  She begins to walk some more, only to see that the Shadows are following her.  She stops, they stop.  She takes three steps, they take three as well.  "Do you still want to help me?"  Turning around, she kneels down to their level.  "If you do, can you help me find my father?"  She thinks of how her father looked, and just as the image appears in her mind's eye, the Shadows scuttle off.  She was confused at that.  Nevertheless, she still had more to do.  Standing back up, she turns around and continues on her voyage.

All the while, the Remnant watched, his interest very piqued.  He had gotten closer just before the Shadows committed fratricide to perform some grim kind of communion for the girl.  It was certainly something that would not have anticipated, to be quite frank, but it still was something that gave him notice.  He was far enough away to watch and not be seen, but the winds made it very difficult to hear anything that she said.  The only thing that he hard with some kind of clarity was her question about finding her father.  Once more he smirks underneath his mask.  She was young, she was filled with darkness, and she was vulnerable.  He could make contact with her now, but he figured that there was still some semblance of hope and kindness in her heart.  All he needed to do was wait until those lights of hope and kindness were all but snuffed out, then he would appear.  Standing there, the monochrome tones of his form are covered as the winds pick up once more, the white of the symbol upon his chest becoming muted, the symbol of the Unversed upon his mask dissolving within the dusty winds, the pieces of cloth as his torso flailing as the winds batter against them.  He summon his weapon, with themes of chains, gears and eyes, and he finally utters a word.

"Perfect."

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