The campfire crackled softly in the Powhatan village, casting flickering shadows over the gathered warriors and travelers. Helios, Aqua, and Skuld sat near the flames, their exhaustion settling in after the earlier battles.
But the night's peace was fragile.
Aqua's piercing blue eyes locked onto Helios, scrutinizing him with quiet intensity. "You never did explain why you're so invested in this world. What's so special about Pocahontas?"
Helios leaned back slightly, an amused smirk curling his lips. "Isn't it obvious? She's a Princess of Heart. You've seen her power, haven't you? Light like hers doesn't just vanish—it transfers."
Aqua's brows furrowed. "Transfers?"
Helios exhaled as if deciding how much to share. "From what I've observed, when a Princess of Heart uses all her power, her title doesn't just disappear—it moves on to another. I just don't know why she does it. That's why I'm here. To understand it. And maybe… see how this can help me prevent something worse from happening in the future."
Aqua crossed her arms, unconvinced. "And yet, you didn't tell us that before. Why?"
Skuld sighed, glancing between them, feeling the growing rift. "Helios, you should trust us more. We're your friends."
Helios' smirk faded for just a second. Friends. That word again.
He met Skuld's expectant gaze and knew he couldn't afford to lose her trust. "...Fine. That's the truth." He shrugged. "Take it or leave it."
Aqua, still wary, narrowed her eyes but said nothing. For now.
The next morning, Skuld and Pocahontas stood near the riverbank, where the trees swayed gently in the morning breeze.
"Alright," Skuld said, adjusting her stance. "Today we'll try to focus on the wind. Feel how it moves with you, not against you."
Pocahontas closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
A faint gust swirled around her feet, then flickered out.
Skuld grinned. "Good, but push more from your heart. It's like… trusting the air to carry your strength."
Pocahontas nodded and took a deep breath. She spread her arms, embracing the wind. It responded—this time, with force. A powerful gust surged outward, bending the trees and shaking the leaves loose. A large, sturdy oak cracked under the pressure and fell with a loud thud.
Skuld's eyes widened. "Whoa!"
Pocahontas gasped, stepping back. "I didn't mean—"
Skuld shook her head, amazed. "No, that was amazing! You're stronger than you think."
Pocahontas looked at her hands, uncertain. "I just… let go."
Skuld nodded. "Exactly. Your emotions fuel your power. Just like mine. Now, let's see what else you can do."
Meanwhile, in the damp, candle-lit confines of Ratcliffe's tent, darkness stirred.
Ratcliffe sat at his desk, his eyes shadowed by flickering light. Across from him, a massive, hulking Heartless loomed—its form resembling a twisted, armored boar with red eyes and black smoke curling off its tusks. This was the Tyrant Tusker, a new enforcer of his will.
Ratcliffe grinned, feeling the power at his fingertips. "You see, gentlemen," he said to the remaining settlers under his command. "The land speaks to me. It's calling for order, for conquest. And we will answer."
The settlers looked uneasy. The creatures had only grown in numbers, and now they were listening to him?
Thomas, lingering at the entrance, clenched his fists. He hid them but now these devils were in full view and any who said anything against them would be turned into one of them. Now no one defied Ratcliffe.
Ratcliffe turned to his newly-formed army of darkness. "The savages hide their riches, their gold, their secrets. But soon, we will take everything from them. Starting with their key…"
The Tyrant Tusker rumbled deeply make a noise that only Ratcliffe seemed to understand.
"Find the savage named Pocahontas," Ratcliffe ordered, eyes gleaming with unnatural light. "Bring her to me. She is the key to unlocking the land's true power and getting everything we want."
The Heartless bowed and vanished into the night.
Thomas' breath hitched.
Pocahontas.
He turned and ran.
While everyone else remained at the village, Helios walked through the untouched parts of the Spirit Woods with the purpose of finding the keyhole.
He wasn't searching but rather knew where it most likely was hidden.
The Keyhole of this world… it had to be somewhere sacred. Helios knew that the most sacred place was where Grandmother Willow was located.
As he walked through the forest, he felt something shift. His senses prickled. The air here was different.
Closing his eyes, he let his mind drift—searching, feeling through his light to see if he could locate it.
A voice whispered from behind him.
"You're looking in the right place."
Helios jumped, twisting around with his keyblade summoned.
Behind him, the tree he had passed only moments ago had changed. Its gnarled bark formed a kind, knowing face.
Grandmother Willow.
She chuckled. "Oh my, startled you, did I?"
Helios sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not many things surprise me anymore. But you just might be an exception."
The ancient willow's branches rustled. "The land watches you, boy. Such a dark heart but even in that endless darkness a small light still persists. You seek answers, but are you prepared for what you find?"
Helios' eyes narrowed. "That depends on what I'm meant to find."
She smiled knowingly. "Then listen closely, traveler. The wind tells me change is coming. You are the change and you will also change. Three paths stand before you but your heart denies two and seeks one."
Helios frowned. He didn't like where this was going.
But Grandmother Willow simply chuckled, as if she already knew what was in his heart.
Under the cover of night, dark figures slithered through the trees.
A hunting party of settlers—twisted by darkness, their eyes glinting unnaturally—marched toward the Powhatan village.
But they weren't alone.
The Heartless moved with them—silent, waiting, watching.
Their orders were simple.
Find Pocahontas.
Capture her.
And if anyone stood in their way…
Erase and convert them.
Meanwhile, deep in the woods, John Smith moved swiftly, rifle in hand, heart pounding.
Thomas had told him everything he knew plus he had overheard everything once Ratcliffe retreated to his tent.
Ratcliffe's mutterings about dethroning King James. His obsession with Pocahontas.
These creatures.
None of it made sense.
But if this Pocahontas knew something—if she was important to both Ratcliffe and these monsters—then she might be the key to stopping whatever was coming.
He had to find her.
Before they did.