Chapter 8

The castle of Naor Shati was far more magnificent, commanding, and ancient than anything Baylion had every seen. It was exotic, and held a aura that demanded your attention. The sun was just cresting over the tallest peak of the castle. It made Baylion squint as he attempted to see the tallest most part of the castle. The castle stretched for three miles in both directions and from the massive oak front doors, which were meshed with large strips of black iron.

Beyond that, what would be considered the campus stretched endlessly. It's perfect lush green grass covered everything except for the marble walkways that meandered for miles. Baylion was in the middle of the twelve and found it hard to concentrate on the beauty of the castle with them in their presence. They led him through the front door which swung open like the gate, and from inside was silence. As they entered the front doors Baylion was greeted with a massive hall. In the center of this huge room was a stone that rose up out of the ground and reached the ceiling of the room.

Engraved on it were the runes in an ancient language that seemed to call out to Baylion. It was strange, but he seemed to feel a connection to the words written deep into the pier. He felt energy thrum through OATHKEEPER and OBLIVION in as he stood there in aw. These blades knew this place well.

Relieve yourself of the sheath you carry, for you do not need it. The blades will come and leave you whenever you call to them.

A person came up to Baylion and took the sheath from him. Sweet beaded his forehead as he gave a quick glance to Baylion and then ran off to through a pair of wide doors. The blades suddenly disappeared in a shower of golden sparks and Baylion felt suddenly alone.

Without a word, the Council of Elders forced Baylion to keep moving as they climbed a multitude of stairways. Each lead to a deep corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly. It was nothing at all like Baylion had expected. He had expected to find people practicing casting spells at each other. He expected open areas where he would find people flying backwards after speaking the wrong incantation or performing the wrong task.

Instead this place was rather quiet. But as the thought passed through his mind, every door, of every room swung open and students poured out of the what appeared to be the classrooms. But as soon as they noticed the Elders and Baylion standing in between the middle of the circle, they became silent and stared at Baylion with looks of wonder and curiosity. Baylion didn't like the attention, but he held his head high and followed them. There was nothing Baylion had to fear. He was just another student, and there was nothing different about him.

As they continued on, the students began to loose interest, but there was always one or two who would make big eyes at him, but quickly look down and walk away. He did not know what was so surprising about his appearance, but he soon found out. As they were walking, the Elders still encircled him and they were still heading up. Baylion did not know how far they had traveled up these flights of stairs, but it felt like ages. They had to at least have traveled three miles before they came to a pair of pearly doors, which were guarded by two dragons that were five times the size of Baylion. Their heads were sharp at the snout and they had what appeared to be beards, they had leathery wings that shimmered many colors as the light hit them and they shifted. Their scales glistened as if they were speckled with rain drops from the most pure of rains.

They bowed their massive head which were the size of Baylion and staid bowed until the Elders passed. When the pearl doors closed, Baylion was in a room that was larger than even the Hall that Baylion ate in with Princes Ashe. There were twelve thrones, around the perimeter of the white room, one for each of the Elders. They each walked without a sound to their appropriate seats and sat down in unison. That's when Baylion saw the sculpture.

The sight of it took his breath away, for standing there, cast in gold, was a mirror image of him.

This is Lord Raithwall child. He was the first and last to wield the blades that you now possess.

"But how is it that I look just like him," asked Baylion, his curiosity unquenchable, "He lived over a thousand years ago…"

this is all true, but open your mind to al of the possibilities, and the truth will reveal itself to you, for there is great wisdom in you.

Baylion circled the sculpture of Raithwall and suddenly it dawned on him, "I am his heir," he said almost breathlessly, " That's why the Keyblade chose me."

No child, the Keyblade chose you because evil still resides in the hearts of all in the universe. It has been hiding, waiting for the chance when the one true heir to Lord Raithwall would find it. As the years passed, the Keyblade's fury grew as the evil in men's hearts continued to grow. At last it has been united with the one true heir that could wield and control its power. But there will be time to educate you on your predecessor in do course, now we must turn our attention to your training.