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Inspired by the poem, The Wanderer, as well as other things. This will be a story, whether or not anybody reads it, is up to you. If you find it in your time to read it and possibly comment upon it, I will take my time to respond likewise to your comments. This story will be set in a past age, possibly medieval fantasy and will go from there. Enjoy reading it if you take your time to, and if you read it word for word, you might enjoy it. I might enjoy writing it. The greatest tale ever told is still the greatest tale, even if it is never heard, possibly. I'm not saying mine is the greatest, though it can still be good even if no one decides to read it. Maybe someone will.

Chapter 1: The Beginning

A lone figure walked a empty highway through a dead village. Peace signs had fallen on the ground, a sign of the past protesters that used to stand in the streets. Beggars and all did it, death had not been swayed. It had continued as if a holy man converting barbaric to a newfound religion. When it was over, he would wish for death.

What was his name? He had had a name, of that he was sure. Had he ever had a true name, though? Were they all disguises, cleverly forged behind a false barricade of emotions? Possibly. Had he sold his soul long ago, or had his soul sold him? Had he even had a soul?

He knew now that being a empty hollow shell would be better then his current situation. For what was inside him was dark, and the night light of his "Heart" had seemed to go out long, long ago. How far had he walked, and how much farther will he walk? He had not known any companion but pain, and sometimes it went to those who came across him, though it always returned. Like a old friend, one who needs company when everyone else has left.

The man wore solely black, and his hair contrasted to it by being white. He looked old, but fealt young. On his face was always a smile, one you could tell was fake though he still wore it. If what they say is true and eyes are mirrors for the soul, he had no soul, and if he did, it was pure black. It was eyes that you would try to block out, only to let them haunt you in your dreams. Eyes that made children cry, and mothers believe in the worse of the world.

The road was silent except for the steady moan of the wind, but the inside of his head was not. Each voice had a different voice, and a different message. All of them seemed to echo. Still The Wanderer marched on. The Wanderer... What did he seek? He knew, he always knew that piece of the puzzle. Why did it have to be him, though? He knew that, also. He marched on.

Soon he would be upon a tavern, he sensed. He could see the lights going down the ways he walked, casting shadows, dividing the Darkness but making it more noticeable for those that had to forever follow it and its sometimes everlasting embrace.

With a sigh he dragged his sole weapon into the room, a old sword. Some of the older men seemed to laugh at him, him dragging his sword in like a pathetic weakling. With a start, his hands started to shake. The sword seemed to move in the air, prompting more laughter.

Suddenly, the red haze. Always appearing when he broke through... Flames, screams, darkness, and... he was slightly in control again. Slowly he walked through the flames, ignoring the final screams and walked through the flames like one might a patch of flowers on a good day with a lover.

---

A young man was left there. He looked haggard, weary, and old. Across his neck was held a single stone, in the fire light looking as if it was in the shape of a key, perhaps it was. tied there by string. The stone shined with its own light even in the fire light. The Wanderer seemed to stop a second in the fire to beckon him, and once he backend, he had no will of his own. Turning a final look when he was some distance away from the tavern, he saw no tavern, only fire which must have been the inspiration for some poets view of Hell and eternal punishment.

After looking away, even from this distance the young man, his name was Marcus, could feel the flames trying to scorch him, perhaps drag him into the flames that now looked like a inferno, spiraling into the depths of what some believed no person should face until they were dead, and that was conditionally.

Should he have jumped in? Would it have been a better fate then what awaited him? These thoughts would come through his mind in the future, would he ever truly have a answer? Casting all thoughts aside, he caught up with the stranger who had disrupted his life. Who was he kidding? His life was already messed up. The fires glowed in the distance still, making him wonder if they would ever be put out.

Whoever the man in black was, the light of compassion in his eyes seemed to have been snuffed out. Though, he couldn't be all bad, could he? He had left him alive, though wasn't his existence punishment enough?

Punishment. What a fun word. With the meant at the end, one could believe it was meant for you. Punishment, thy name is ruin. Ruin, thy name is age. Age, thy name is death. Death, thy name is everything. Everything, thy name is nothing.

The Wanderer, he said he was called The Wanderer. The name fit him, from Marcus's experiences with him so far. Perhaps he would become his companion. Sorrow is a bitter companion for those alone. Alone. Not a word was like it, and none compared to it. Sometimes the best medicine, sometimes the best poison.

---

The Wanderer traveled with his new companion, keeping his thoughts to himself. The companion kept up, and even if he didn't, the Wanderer would not have slowed down. The man was important. Especially the stone key around his neck. Keys unlocked doors, some were real, some were of fate. Some did both.

They passed people when they went into the town. The tavern had been like a sign that read it was the borderline for it. As a matter of fact, that black stuff in the sky might of been the smoke. Might of been some other fire, though.

With the way people were today, you could never tell. Never tell. These thoughts might of brought a smile to his face if he didn't already have a fake one. Smile. His smile was a parody of a happy smile, showing just how see through the happiness of today's world.

Was there a today's world? Today was but time, and time but numbers. Numbers and memories. Eternity is nothing but a man laughing at you, clocked in memories and beckoning at you with the false light of hope.

Did hope have light, or was it darkness? The evil that men do. Did men do these evils, or were men evil themselves? Was there no difference? If you compared man to the most barbaric beast, would he be that different? Both of them savage, both possibly without purpose but to cause pain.

Pain, the last sense to fade even in the cold of Darkness before it numbs you into acceptance of itself. Was it the last, though? Perhaps the last was hatred, which gave the wounded resolve and the cold heat.

They made camp that night, under the stars that would shine upon him, if there were any. Using some magic, the Wonderer once again called forth flame and began to talk while staring into the fire. The fire stayed like a old friend, patiently burning and sending out smoke to block out the stars that shined.

---

When Marcus awoke, he could see that the Wonderer had not slept. Looked as if he hadn't had any sleep in some time, actually. Shaking off the remnants of sleepiness, he obeyed when the Wonderer said, "Come." So he went and followed the Wonderer, becoming his "companion." The stone key seemed to lay heavily upon him.

---

More to be written later. Anyone have any thoughts on this?

In the Upcoming Kingdom Hearts games, Kingdom Hearts 358/2 days is already released, right? So it's not "upcoming" anymore, unless it speaks of the English version I think. The description under it could atleast say that it's out, just not in English, as a expelnation for those wondering if it's out. Maybe give it it's own section or get a section for all the portable relased Kingdom Hearts games and put it there with ones that are already released?

Perhaps also since it's also out somebody could gather up some of the old popular theories for it, put them in one topic with credit and such, and people could look at it and compare it to how things turned out, and just for the memories?