-Yorda-
By Julie Danskin
Foreword: Oh my God! I can't believe I finally have finished the first chapter! I was so unsure about it all, if it didn't do justice to the game, if it ruined everything going on, if it destroyed the subtlety. Please let me know if it does, but I tried my best. Every little change I make to Yorda and Ico (which is minimal, as they are great as they are). Anyhoo. Unluckily for you poor souls (mah-hahahaha!) this is going to be updated frequently. every weekday hopefully! My computer is dead so I kinda have to upload at my school! How humiliating is that? Don't worry, kiddies, I will have my computer fixed as soon as possible, so bear with me. You'll just have to check up with your fingers crossed that I've updated it! Now, to cut to the chase, I disclaim ownership of Yorda, Ico and the Shadow Demons in this story, and gain no profit from making this story. This is for me and for you little people out there, and of course. Yorda. God bless Yorda. Sad as it may seem, she rocks the world. Enjoy!
Chapter 2 - Boy -
Yorda's purple eyes opened slowly, delicately, her eyelashes sweeping the sand she was lying on away from them. She groaned ever so quietly, and attempted to look up. Her head flopped uselessly, and she sank her nose into the silky, soft, grainy sand. "Harra.norabi." she murmered to herself in her language. It meant "Hopeless.dying." as she was sure she was fading, she felt like she was going to dissolve into the sand. She was so weak, so helpless. How could she be? Her mother was dead, that could be the only solution for her beloved castle being reduced to rubble. It must have been the boy. The boy. The one she had saved. She thought of him, wondering if she really had saved him. Was he alive? Was he dead? She didn't know, couldn't know now, she was going to die.
She cried.
It was all she could do.
She cried for herself.
She cried for her mother.
She cried for her castle.
She cried for her kingdom.
She cried for her boy.
"Boy." she moaned, louder this time. Her eyes widened. What had happened to her language? She was speaking his language, she recognised it's sound. "Karan," she said to herself. That was the word for boy in her native tongue. But how could it be that she was speaking her guardian's language suddenly?
Absurdly, she felt strength pouring into her. She still couldn't lift herself, as it wasn't physical strength. Mentally, she felt in control. The faded vision in front of her violet irises was fading slowly. She could see the sand in front of her, see the shells' inscribed patterns, and clearly identify the colours. For the first time she could remember, she was free. "Dashai," she said happily, with a mouthful of sand. She was becoming excited, perhaps soon she would be able to get to her feet, and find feet. She suddenly realised how desperately hungry she was, and forgot that she hadn't eaten since the day she had met Karan, as she called him. She didn't know his real name, didn't need to. There had been a connection that was more special than intimacy, more treasured to her than any person she had ever met, or ever would. Not that she had met many people while locked in the bird cage suspended in the tower of the castle she had been born and brought up in. The memories caused tears to come to her eyes, and, once more weak, though her vision was not blurred again, she fell into an uneasy sleep, her left cheek in contact with the creamy sand.
"Yorda."
"Yorda.."
"Yorda."
"It is your destiny."
"Do not defy me."
"You're useless."
"I'll make you priceless."
"You mean it, mummy?"
"Yes, Yorda."
"Will lots of Princes want to marry me, Mummy?"
"Yes, Yorda."
"How many, Mummy?"
"All of them, Yorda."
"Mummy?"
"Yes, Yorda?"
"Who are those men in black?"
"They are not men, Yorda. They are shadows."
"What do they want, Mummy?"
"You."
"Mummy?"
"What?"
"I love you."
"Silence, child. Do not defy me."
'What does that mean?"
"Do not defy me."
Yorda woke up, frightened and shaking. There was a sound in the air, eerie and daunting. It intimidated her, made her want to cry out, then her boy, her Karan would come to her. "Karan." she whimpered weakly. Still the calls being carried in the air reached her very soul. Silently, stilly, eyes closed, she lay, praying the voice wouldn't reach her. But what if it was her Karan? Still, it was more likely that it was a Shadow Demon come to finish the job. Wouldn't they have been destroyed when her mother died?
"Mummy."
"Do not defy me."
"What does that mean?"
"Do not defy me."
Not knowing what to do, Yorda waited for the ever nearing, croaky, weak voice. The intensity of not knowing, not being able to lift her head to see whom it was. Whoever, or whatever it was, they would secure her fate.
Eventually, after antagonising seconds turned into even more antagonising minutes, Yorda felt a presence. Without looking, she knew it was. She could imagine the face, the wind blowing his tunic and strangely designed shirt that fitted over his head. It was Karan, he had come back for her. Yet again. Now the shadow would not claim her. She was guaranteed survival. Her boy was here. She felt the strength well in her, and she looked up at him, unable to lift her head, but to lift her chin. She stared at him with her grateful eyes, her purple irises watering, her pupils seeing his young innocent face clearly for the first time. She knew now it would not be the last.
"Are you okay?" he asked. Yorda could understand him! He was oblivious to this new factor, however. She would let him know soon. She just had to figure out how to tell him without frightening him, and feeling that she had been playing him all along, that she was able to understand him all the time. "Karan." she murmered instead. "I'm so happy to see you," He told her honestly, near tears. "I thought I never would again. When I left home, well, when I was taken from home, I knew I would never see my parents again." He looked up briefly to see if she was bored, or if she was alright. But Yorda seemed content, very content, even, just to listen to him talking. "My mother.she gave me this cloak, on my twelfth birthday. I opened it in the rough sheets of paper. We were quite poor, you see, Yorda. Not like you, your mother obviously had some money. But mine, this is all I have of her left." He was surprised to see her averting her eyes in sadness when he mentioned her mother. She looked back when he said it was all he had of her. Even though her whole castle was gone, her mother was gone, and all she had left of her were evil memories. "How sad," she replied.
He looked up.
She smiled.
Foreword: Oh my God! I can't believe I finally have finished the first chapter! I was so unsure about it all, if it didn't do justice to the game, if it ruined everything going on, if it destroyed the subtlety. Please let me know if it does, but I tried my best. Every little change I make to Yorda and Ico (which is minimal, as they are great as they are). Anyhoo. Unluckily for you poor souls (mah-hahahaha!) this is going to be updated frequently. every weekday hopefully! My computer is dead so I kinda have to upload at my school! How humiliating is that? Don't worry, kiddies, I will have my computer fixed as soon as possible, so bear with me. You'll just have to check up with your fingers crossed that I've updated it! Now, to cut to the chase, I disclaim ownership of Yorda, Ico and the Shadow Demons in this story, and gain no profit from making this story. This is for me and for you little people out there, and of course. Yorda. God bless Yorda. Sad as it may seem, she rocks the world. Enjoy!
Chapter 2 - Boy -
Yorda's purple eyes opened slowly, delicately, her eyelashes sweeping the sand she was lying on away from them. She groaned ever so quietly, and attempted to look up. Her head flopped uselessly, and she sank her nose into the silky, soft, grainy sand. "Harra.norabi." she murmered to herself in her language. It meant "Hopeless.dying." as she was sure she was fading, she felt like she was going to dissolve into the sand. She was so weak, so helpless. How could she be? Her mother was dead, that could be the only solution for her beloved castle being reduced to rubble. It must have been the boy. The boy. The one she had saved. She thought of him, wondering if she really had saved him. Was he alive? Was he dead? She didn't know, couldn't know now, she was going to die.
She cried.
It was all she could do.
She cried for herself.
She cried for her mother.
She cried for her castle.
She cried for her kingdom.
She cried for her boy.
"Boy." she moaned, louder this time. Her eyes widened. What had happened to her language? She was speaking his language, she recognised it's sound. "Karan," she said to herself. That was the word for boy in her native tongue. But how could it be that she was speaking her guardian's language suddenly?
Absurdly, she felt strength pouring into her. She still couldn't lift herself, as it wasn't physical strength. Mentally, she felt in control. The faded vision in front of her violet irises was fading slowly. She could see the sand in front of her, see the shells' inscribed patterns, and clearly identify the colours. For the first time she could remember, she was free. "Dashai," she said happily, with a mouthful of sand. She was becoming excited, perhaps soon she would be able to get to her feet, and find feet. She suddenly realised how desperately hungry she was, and forgot that she hadn't eaten since the day she had met Karan, as she called him. She didn't know his real name, didn't need to. There had been a connection that was more special than intimacy, more treasured to her than any person she had ever met, or ever would. Not that she had met many people while locked in the bird cage suspended in the tower of the castle she had been born and brought up in. The memories caused tears to come to her eyes, and, once more weak, though her vision was not blurred again, she fell into an uneasy sleep, her left cheek in contact with the creamy sand.
"Yorda."
"Yorda.."
"Yorda."
"It is your destiny."
"Do not defy me."
"You're useless."
"I'll make you priceless."
"You mean it, mummy?"
"Yes, Yorda."
"Will lots of Princes want to marry me, Mummy?"
"Yes, Yorda."
"How many, Mummy?"
"All of them, Yorda."
"Mummy?"
"Yes, Yorda?"
"Who are those men in black?"
"They are not men, Yorda. They are shadows."
"What do they want, Mummy?"
"You."
"Mummy?"
"What?"
"I love you."
"Silence, child. Do not defy me."
'What does that mean?"
"Do not defy me."
Yorda woke up, frightened and shaking. There was a sound in the air, eerie and daunting. It intimidated her, made her want to cry out, then her boy, her Karan would come to her. "Karan." she whimpered weakly. Still the calls being carried in the air reached her very soul. Silently, stilly, eyes closed, she lay, praying the voice wouldn't reach her. But what if it was her Karan? Still, it was more likely that it was a Shadow Demon come to finish the job. Wouldn't they have been destroyed when her mother died?
"Mummy."
"Do not defy me."
"What does that mean?"
"Do not defy me."
Not knowing what to do, Yorda waited for the ever nearing, croaky, weak voice. The intensity of not knowing, not being able to lift her head to see whom it was. Whoever, or whatever it was, they would secure her fate.
Eventually, after antagonising seconds turned into even more antagonising minutes, Yorda felt a presence. Without looking, she knew it was. She could imagine the face, the wind blowing his tunic and strangely designed shirt that fitted over his head. It was Karan, he had come back for her. Yet again. Now the shadow would not claim her. She was guaranteed survival. Her boy was here. She felt the strength well in her, and she looked up at him, unable to lift her head, but to lift her chin. She stared at him with her grateful eyes, her purple irises watering, her pupils seeing his young innocent face clearly for the first time. She knew now it would not be the last.
"Are you okay?" he asked. Yorda could understand him! He was oblivious to this new factor, however. She would let him know soon. She just had to figure out how to tell him without frightening him, and feeling that she had been playing him all along, that she was able to understand him all the time. "Karan." she murmered instead. "I'm so happy to see you," He told her honestly, near tears. "I thought I never would again. When I left home, well, when I was taken from home, I knew I would never see my parents again." He looked up briefly to see if she was bored, or if she was alright. But Yorda seemed content, very content, even, just to listen to him talking. "My mother.she gave me this cloak, on my twelfth birthday. I opened it in the rough sheets of paper. We were quite poor, you see, Yorda. Not like you, your mother obviously had some money. But mine, this is all I have of her left." He was surprised to see her averting her eyes in sadness when he mentioned her mother. She looked back when he said it was all he had of her. Even though her whole castle was gone, her mother was gone, and all she had left of her were evil memories. "How sad," she replied.
He looked up.
She smiled.