Alice: the Master.
I can still feel the taste of him, the man that polluted my memory. He is here, with his dripping eyes and gnashing teeth, the machinations of his cruel attacks still on my psyche, still festering its ooze on my precious Wonderland. I swore to myself I would be revenged, and when that happened, I felt...nothing. My sanity came apart, and I found myself in the murky depths of Londerland: the perversion already manifested. Was I to be a queen of a world parodying my Wonderland? That meant I had to heal, and to heal in London? That was impossible.
They would look for me, blame me as the killer of one of its most upstanding citizens. Kill me then, or back to the Asylum, where they could work more of their "therapy" on me until I was nothing but a mewling, helpless girl, fit for death anyway? No. It was not to be.
For I was then found by the mouse.
Which, of course, I do not call him now: his majesty, King Mickey. I say this with no cynicism. It would come to pass that he would take hold of Alice, our dear Alice, and show her what she was truly made to be: an agent of Light against the advances of the darkness!
Can you imagine?! Me, tossed aside as the broken puppet, strong only in my Wonderland yet enough to safe myself, and here is an opportunity to step into Light for the first time? I took it, of course. What innocent places had I left?
And here, in Disney Town, even a dark girl like me could endure. They feared the sight of me, naturally: I did not smile (for what did I have to smile about?), and the first few months was torture, adjusting to the brightness of Disneytown, the friendliness, the joviality. It was enough to drive me mad all over again. Had I ever felt I deserved Light in my life, or a bright spot amongst creatures like these? But I could fight, that was certain, and his highness needed that skill: but I could see the worry, that the darkness he certainly knew in me might swallow me up, make me a heartless myself.
Well. It was possible. I knew that much, before anyone said it, that it was mad I had become a wielder. But I learned, perfected my jumps and kicks, learned magic slowly at first, then advanced rapidly. I was off the mark at being a master, of course: missing a drive somewhere.
And then the day came when I learned of the Seven Princesses of Heart. Curiosity struck me, of course, upon hearing of Alice, and then you can imagine, dear diary, when I discovered her to be an alternate version of ME! Blond, of all things, with a Wonderland and a Cheshire cat and everything else. Somehow, she never experienced the fire, destined instead to be one of the seven who would open the Door. Knowing this made me quite melancholy for a time, to know I was, in effect, a damaged Alice. But it was here, dear diary, I realized my true purpose. It would seem Alice, that Alice, was Light, while I would be her darker twin of a sort. Here, I could see balance was needed, an Alice who could fight these enemies, who did not fear the heartless. And that day, I earned MY keyblade, the Lost Memories keyblade, signifying what I had regained in the fight for my sanity, and more importantly, my role now with the Order. I would become a master on my own terms, and lead other students to regain parts of themselves.
And then, being in Disney Town became much easier. I no longer retreated from others, and they began to see, in spite of my somberness, one loyal to the cause, willing to test body and mind to protect the worlds. Mastery became evident: not because I was accomplished in battle and speed, but because I used them to do a service to other worlds. It became my new goal, and has become mine since.
I will never be Princess of Heart Alice: that path was locked years ago, when the asylum seemed to suck out any good light in me. The Fire took the innocence as well, but I had something still: my own body, my mind, still belong to me. And so long as I have that, I will be strong enough to withstand anything.
The creed long ago: I will walk the path of madness, and where it shall take me, I do not even know. But I will walk it, head high, until it has claimed me.
They would look for me, blame me as the killer of one of its most upstanding citizens. Kill me then, or back to the Asylum, where they could work more of their "therapy" on me until I was nothing but a mewling, helpless girl, fit for death anyway? No. It was not to be.
For I was then found by the mouse.
Which, of course, I do not call him now: his majesty, King Mickey. I say this with no cynicism. It would come to pass that he would take hold of Alice, our dear Alice, and show her what she was truly made to be: an agent of Light against the advances of the darkness!
Can you imagine?! Me, tossed aside as the broken puppet, strong only in my Wonderland yet enough to safe myself, and here is an opportunity to step into Light for the first time? I took it, of course. What innocent places had I left?
And here, in Disney Town, even a dark girl like me could endure. They feared the sight of me, naturally: I did not smile (for what did I have to smile about?), and the first few months was torture, adjusting to the brightness of Disneytown, the friendliness, the joviality. It was enough to drive me mad all over again. Had I ever felt I deserved Light in my life, or a bright spot amongst creatures like these? But I could fight, that was certain, and his highness needed that skill: but I could see the worry, that the darkness he certainly knew in me might swallow me up, make me a heartless myself.
Well. It was possible. I knew that much, before anyone said it, that it was mad I had become a wielder. But I learned, perfected my jumps and kicks, learned magic slowly at first, then advanced rapidly. I was off the mark at being a master, of course: missing a drive somewhere.
And then the day came when I learned of the Seven Princesses of Heart. Curiosity struck me, of course, upon hearing of Alice, and then you can imagine, dear diary, when I discovered her to be an alternate version of ME! Blond, of all things, with a Wonderland and a Cheshire cat and everything else. Somehow, she never experienced the fire, destined instead to be one of the seven who would open the Door. Knowing this made me quite melancholy for a time, to know I was, in effect, a damaged Alice. But it was here, dear diary, I realized my true purpose. It would seem Alice, that Alice, was Light, while I would be her darker twin of a sort. Here, I could see balance was needed, an Alice who could fight these enemies, who did not fear the heartless. And that day, I earned MY keyblade, the Lost Memories keyblade, signifying what I had regained in the fight for my sanity, and more importantly, my role now with the Order. I would become a master on my own terms, and lead other students to regain parts of themselves.
And then, being in Disney Town became much easier. I no longer retreated from others, and they began to see, in spite of my somberness, one loyal to the cause, willing to test body and mind to protect the worlds. Mastery became evident: not because I was accomplished in battle and speed, but because I used them to do a service to other worlds. It became my new goal, and has become mine since.
I will never be Princess of Heart Alice: that path was locked years ago, when the asylum seemed to suck out any good light in me. The Fire took the innocence as well, but I had something still: my own body, my mind, still belong to me. And so long as I have that, I will be strong enough to withstand anything.
The creed long ago: I will walk the path of madness, and where it shall take me, I do not even know. But I will walk it, head high, until it has claimed me.