Kingdom of Corona

The air in this world was sweet. It tasted of pine needles, wildflowers, and hidden magic. After spending quite some time in the sterile environment of the Gummi Ship, the cool breeze of the forest was a welcome change, though the shadows here felt... older.

I dismissed the Highwind, dropping from the sky into a secluded valley surrounded by high cliffs. The Heartless were here, lurking in the dark caves and beneath the roots of the massive trees, but they were quiet. They were waiting for something.

I walked through a narrow canyon passage, the stone walls rising high on either side. When I emerged, I saw it. Standing in the middle of a perfect, sun-drenched clearing was a tower. It had no stairs. No doors. Just smooth white stone rising a hundred feet into the air, topped by a single window and a purple-shingled roof.

It was a cage. A beautiful, impossible cage.

"World Order: Active," the system chimed. My combat leather armor dissolved. It was replaced by attire fitting for a rugged traveler or a dangerous rogue: dark, fitted trousers tucked into knee-high leather boots, a loose white shirt open at the collar, and a long, teal vest embroidered with silver thread. I looked like a prince who had abandoned his throne to become a highwayman.

I approached the tower. There was no way up, unless you could fly, or unless you were invited. But I was a Keyblade Master. I didn't need invitations.

I dug my fingers into the limestone. I didn't use magic this time; I used physical strength, scaling the sheer surface with the ease of a predator stalking a nest. I moved silently, hand over hand, until I reached the windowsill.

I pulled myself up and vaulted inside.

"GOTCHA!"

CLANG.

A heavy cast-iron frying pan swung out of nowhere, aimed directly at my temple. I didn't flinch. My reflexes were honed by a thousand battles. I raised my left hand and caught the pan mid-swing. The metal vibrated against my palm, stopping inches from my face.

Attached to the handle was a girl. Rapunzel.

She was stunning in a way that defied the logic of the world. Huge, terrified green eyes. A spray of freckles across her nose. She wore a purple dress that laced up the front, hugging a figure that was surprisingly womanly for someone so hidden. And the hair. It was everywhere. A golden ocean of it, piled in heaps around the room, draped over rafters, glowing with a faint, latent power.

"You..." She gasped, pulling at the pan. She couldn't move it. I held it like it was made of paper. "Who are you? How did you find me?"

"I heard a rumor," I said smoothly, twisting my wrist. I ripped the pan from her grip and tossed it onto a chair. "About a flower hidden in a tower."

Rapunzel stumbled back, tripping over a loop of her own golden hair. She fell onto her bottom, scurrying backward until she hit the wall. A small green chameleon, that had to be Pascal, scuttled onto her shoulder, turning a dark, angry red.

"Stay back!" she squeaked, grabbing a chair leg for defense. "I have... I have a person! He'll be here any minute! He has pointy teeth!"

"I have pointy teeth too," I said, smiling to reveal them.

I walked toward her. I didn't rush. I stalked. Rapunzel pressed herself flat against the wall. She had never seen a man before, not a real one. Mother Gothel was her only contact. I was an alien species to her.

I stopped right in front of her. I loomed over her, blocking the sunlight from the window. "You've been up here a long time, haven't you, blondie?"

"Eighteen years," she whispered, her eyes darting over my face, my chest, my boots. She was terrified, but she was also intensely curious. "Are you... are you a ruffian? A bandit?"

"I'm a collector," I corrected.

I reached out. She flinched, scrunching her eyes shut, expecting a blow. Instead, I took a lock of her hair. It was soft, silky, and heavy. I rubbed it between my fingers. "This is magic," I noted. "Old magic."

She opened one eye. "Don't... don't hurt my hair. It doesn't grow back if you cut it."

"I have no intention of cutting it," I murmured, leaning down. "I like long hair. It makes for a good leash."

Rapunzel blinked. She didn't understand the metaphor. She just stared at me, her chest heaving. "What do you want?"

I looked around the room. Paintings covered the walls, stars, lights, dreams. She was an artist trapped in a silo. "I'm looking for the Heartless," I said. "Monsters. Have you seen them?"

"Monsters?" She shook her head. "The only monster is... well, Mother says the world is full of them. Men with sharp teeth."

"Mother lied," I said, kneeling down so our faces were level. "The world isn't full of monsters. It's full of... opportunities."

I reached out and brushed a stray hair from her cheek. My fingers lingered on her skin. It was impossibly soft, untouched by the sun or the wind. "You want to leave, don't you?" I guessed, nodding at the painting of the floating lanterns above the fireplace. "You want to see the lights."

Her breath hitched. "How did you know?"

"I see things," I said. "I can take you there."

"You... you can?" Her fear was instantly replaced by hope. She grabbed my hand, the first voluntary contact. Her hands were small and warm. "You can take me to the lights? And bring me back before Mother returns?"

"I can," I promised. "But I'm not a charity, Rapunzel. I'm a guide. And guides get paid."

She frowned, looking down at her dress. "I... I don't have any money. Or gold."

I chuckled darkly. "I don't want gold."

I looked her up and down. She was a blank slate. An unwritten page. She had no concept of intimacy, no boundaries, no shame because she had never been taught it.

"I want you to let me teach you," I said, my voice dropping to a hypnotic register. "You don't know anything about the world, do you? About how men and women greet each other? About the... customs?"

"No," she admitted, shaking her head. "I've read books, but... they don't explain everything."

"Books leave out the best parts."

I stood up, pulling her with me. She rose to her feet, standing close. She smelled of vanilla and paint.

"We have a deal," I decided. "I take you to the lights. You let me teach you the ways of the world. Whatever I say, you do. Because that's how it works outside the tower."

Rapunzel looked at the window, then at the painting of the lights, then back at me. She bit her lip. "Okay," she whispered. "I... I promise."

"Good girl."

I walked to the window. "Pack a bag, Rapunzel. The ground is waiting."

She squealed, a sound of pure joy, and ran to shove a few items into a satchel. She had no idea she had just signed a contract with her new Master. She thought she was getting a field trip. She was getting an education.