What a place to be marooned.  A walled town, three small districts.  And nothing beyond the walls.  It was surreal, but everyone accepted it to be normal.  Well, maybe not normal, but they accepted it nonetheless.  

Markus, on the other hand, saw it as nothing but exile.  Worse than being on the pirate ship.  If he was to leave, he would need to figure out the nature of this place.  He had tried to calculate his location by the stars, but they were strange to him.  Useless.  Maybe he could purchase a start chart, but he'd need money.  His clothes were fine, but he wasn't about to pawn them.  What would he wear? Common clothes?  No.  

His sword then.  The fine gold filigree rapier his father had given him.  With his keyblade(he knew the name for this instinctively, though he had not heard anyone say that word) he wouldn't need it.  There was a jeweler, that would be the best.  There was a shop that sold weapons, but he doubted they would appreciate the fine workmanship on it.  It was no mere weapon, it was a piece of art.  

When he rounded the corner, he nearly ran into another young man leaning against the wall, who was looking on at a crowd of people in front of the jeweler.  A crowd of people with keyblades, Markus noted with a start.  

Markus looked at the young man(probably the same age as him) by the wall and spoke to him.  

"Excuse me, sorry to bother.  Do you know, by chance, what that group of people is?  Only, I'm curious about those strange things they hold.  I have... come across one as well and I am unsure what to do with it."