When Darkness Turns to Light

Enter Mr. Sandman

Recappy From the Lasy Chappy: "Night." She heard him walk away until his light footsteps were drowned by the subtle hum of the Gummi's engine. Contentedly, she sank into her chair, staring out the window. Her elbow rested on the arm of the chair and her fingers brushed against the purple around her eye. No one else had seemed to notice (unless, like Sora, they had dismissed the change, reasoning the color could not have magically changed) the differences of yellow to grey eye color or the purple shadow-but she knew.

These grey eyes were her eyes. The ones she had been born with, the ones she had before her heart was lost. She did not know how she knew; she simply did. She did not know why, or how, the change occurred; it simply had. She did not know for sure why it was easier to smile; it simply was.

She gently narrowed her eyes and felt her lip curl. Her temple rested in her hand and one of her fingers brushed against her eyelashes. "With these eyes . . . everything I see is a little brighter."

Chapter Sixteen: Enter Mr. Sandman

The desert sun was burning as brightly as always, despite the dark day in Agrabah that it was. Heartless danced about the streets, barging into street shops of the Bazaar and climbing up onto the awnings. A majority of them were Shadows or Bandits; accompanying them were a few Yellow Operas and Green Requiems.

The witch of Hollow Bastion glanced at the incarnations of darkness as she walked with Agrabah's royal vizier. By the expression of disinterest, it appeared she was unimpressed by their efforts. She brushed some sand from the orb of her scepter, raising a light film of dust. "And the Keyhole?"

"The Heartless are searching for it now," replied he. Speaking confidently, reassuring her, he added, "I'm certain we'll find it soon enough. So that just leaves. . . ."

A parrot's caw came from above. That very parrot fluttered down, seemingly tired, and roosted on the vizier's shoulder. He had red feathers, for the most part, though there was blue on his tail and the tips of his wings; some white circled his eyes. "Jafar! I've looked everywhere for Jasmine! She's disappeared like magic!"

Expressing interest, though not necessarily of the positive sort, the witch eyed him. She rubbed her fingertips together, dusting off the sand she had picked up from her scepter, and lowered her hand. Glancing at him side-long, she grimaced, "You said you had things under control."

"Agrabah is full of holes for rats to hide in. But why worry about Princess Jasmine? With her or without her, surely this world will be ours when we find the Keyhole."

Closing her eyes in annoyance, she reminded, "You know our main objective is much greater. She is one of a considerable amount of key components for our true plans; any fewer than all is useless."

"Ahh, yes. Well, if the princess is that important, we'll find her." Jafar turned away and raised his golden cobra staff. Four more Bandits appeared via portals of darkness. "Find Princess Jasmine and bring her to me at once."

The witch watched Iago flap in front of the Heartless and gazed at Jafar once more. She spoke in a bewaring tone, almost seeming to reprimand him. "Don't steep yourself in darkness too long. The Heartless consume the careless."

He flippantly laughed. "Your concern is touching, but hardly necessary." Turning away from her, he moved to mobilize his Heartless to search when something caught his eye, and his expression turned cross. "What are you doing here? Agrabah is mine."

Beneath the shade of an underpass were two figures dressed in black robes with red clouds. The taller of the two reached and touched the rim of his Chinese-style straw hat with teal polished fingers; on his right index finger was a ring with a teal stone bearing the kanji for blue. White strips of cloth that fell all around the rim opened only for his face. He had a slanted blue-grey eye visible below his Stone Village headband. Half of his smirk was concealed by long, blonde bangs.