She listened to everything and marshaled her thoughts.
"A few things," she said finally. "And all taken with the understanding that it is possible your reality is different in this way than some of the others I have been to... but this..." she held out her hand and her Keyblade appeared. "With the exception of one set of memories I was not taken to be given a Keyblade, I was taken because the seed was within me. The Keyblade chooses more often than it is chosen for someone. If you didn't have the potential you would never have a Keyblade no matter how hard I tried to give you one. But if you do have the potential... being given one only increases your chances of being one of the Keyblade's Chosen. But those words are used for a reason. Even if no one ever hands you one, the Keyblade can still choose you."
She vanished her Keyblade and called in another one that looked almost identical. "In the one set of memories where we were taught to have Keyblades where they didn't choose us we were still chosen for a reason. My Master had an ability to sense children that were... different." The memories were harder. "We never heard the world Mutant while we were on the Isle, not until we gained Mastery or adulthood. But somehow my Master knew who would become a Mutant and who wouldn't, and he took those of us who he thought would be harmed when it happened. That world... That world was a world divided. Humans who were not Mutants... Not all of them hated us, but enough of them did. Mutants were killed when their powers developed. On that world our Masters saved us and the Keyblades were a tool used to focus our Mutant abilities."
She shook her head. "But so far in my experience that world seems to be an outlier for how Keyblades work." She vanished her Keyblade and let her hand fall. "In all the other realities I have seen... as I said, the Keyblades choose. We're taken as children to try and help ensure that we will have the maturity that comes with holding a weapon, when it does come, if it does come. Because Keyblades rarely wait until we are adults and rarely ask for our consent."
She rested her chin on her knee again, settling both hands on her ankle, the other leg dangling. "I would love for all of you to be able to have peaceful lives. I'd love to have that for myself. But I see no reason that a peaceful life and a Keyblade are mutually exclusive. I see no reason to stop training just because the danger has passed. I don't only improve myself to be a better warrior, but to be a better me. That I will hopefully be ready if a crisis occurs again is a preplanned bonus, but it is not the point. Training is about strengthening our Hearts and minds, and not just because they are under assault."
She leaned back into the step behind her, resting an elbow on either side as she looked up at the ceiling without seeming to see it.
"As for the limited pool of Masters you know... that is something we can lay at Xehonrot's feet. At least in part. We used to be more numerous. Far more numerous. But you are looking at a small sample size prebaised by the war that left us among the few survivors. Don't look at how broken someone like me is, look more to someone like Sora. He is closer to how Masters used to be than the war has allowed any of us to be now. In a lot of ways, he reminds me of Master Eraquis. Actually he reminds me most of Master Alistare. Master Alistare was always smiling, always there to help cheer us up. He had a way of teaching a sulky student something fun that seemed like play that always had a backing in helping us with our lessons. I remember one time Ven was frustrated, so much so that his anger took him over enough that he stalked out of a lesson and was upsetting some of the younger kids. Master Alistare started juggling in front of him, got him interested, and taught him how to juggle. Ven forgot how upset he had been," she said with a small smile, eyes distant. "He rushed over to show us what he learned and was so proud of himself that he had something he could teach us for a change. And so stunned a week later when a new Keyblade move needed the exact same wrist motions and balance..."
She blinked out of the memory. "I... I'm sorry," she said, a little sheepish. "I wandered off track there and am not quite sure what point I was trying to make anymore.
no subject
"A few things," she said finally. "And all taken with the understanding that it is possible your reality is different in this way than some of the others I have been to... but this..." she held out her hand and her Keyblade appeared. "With the exception of one set of memories I was not taken to be given a Keyblade, I was taken because the seed was within me. The Keyblade chooses more often than it is chosen for someone. If you didn't have the potential you would never have a Keyblade no matter how hard I tried to give you one. But if you do have the potential... being given one only increases your chances of being one of the Keyblade's Chosen. But those words are used for a reason. Even if no one ever hands you one, the Keyblade can still choose you."
She vanished her Keyblade and called in another one that looked almost identical. "In the one set of memories where we were taught to have Keyblades where they didn't choose us we were still chosen for a reason. My Master had an ability to sense children that were... different." The memories were harder. "We never heard the world Mutant while we were on the Isle, not until we gained Mastery or adulthood. But somehow my Master knew who would become a Mutant and who wouldn't, and he took those of us who he thought would be harmed when it happened. That world... That world was a world divided. Humans who were not Mutants... Not all of them hated us, but enough of them did. Mutants were killed when their powers developed. On that world our Masters saved us and the Keyblades were a tool used to focus our Mutant abilities."
She shook her head. "But so far in my experience that world seems to be an outlier for how Keyblades work." She vanished her Keyblade and let her hand fall. "In all the other realities I have seen... as I said, the Keyblades choose. We're taken as children to try and help ensure that we will have the maturity that comes with holding a weapon, when it does come, if it does come. Because Keyblades rarely wait until we are adults and rarely ask for our consent."
She rested her chin on her knee again, settling both hands on her ankle, the other leg dangling. "I would love for all of you to be able to have peaceful lives. I'd love to have that for myself. But I see no reason that a peaceful life and a Keyblade are mutually exclusive. I see no reason to stop training just because the danger has passed. I don't only improve myself to be a better warrior, but to be a better me. That I will hopefully be ready if a crisis occurs again is a preplanned bonus, but it is not the point. Training is about strengthening our Hearts and minds, and not just because they are under assault."
She leaned back into the step behind her, resting an elbow on either side as she looked up at the ceiling without seeming to see it.
"As for the limited pool of Masters you know... that is something we can lay at Xehonrot's feet. At least in part. We used to be more numerous. Far more numerous. But you are looking at a small sample size prebaised by the war that left us among the few survivors. Don't look at how broken someone like me is, look more to someone like Sora. He is closer to how Masters used to be than the war has allowed any of us to be now. In a lot of ways, he reminds me of Master Eraquis. Actually he reminds me most of Master Alistare. Master Alistare was always smiling, always there to help cheer us up. He had a way of teaching a sulky student something fun that seemed like play that always had a backing in helping us with our lessons. I remember one time Ven was frustrated, so much so that his anger took him over enough that he stalked out of a lesson and was upsetting some of the younger kids. Master Alistare started juggling in front of him, got him interested, and taught him how to juggle. Ven forgot how upset he had been," she said with a small smile, eyes distant. "He rushed over to show us what he learned and was so proud of himself that he had something he could teach us for a change. And so stunned a week later when a new Keyblade move needed the exact same wrist motions and balance..."
She blinked out of the memory. "I... I'm sorry," she said, a little sheepish. "I wandered off track there and am not quite sure what point I was trying to make anymore.