I was forced out, wildly flung into an unknown scene. My body was gone in that strange moment, and had no senses. It was serene, blissful, when all too suddenly I was thrust back into the unforgiving reality. I fell into sand, every sense screamed as it was filled with the merciless powder. The sand spanned to the horizon, desolate of any landmark save one. A small cloaked figure stood facing the mighty sun. I got to my feet as the wind blew. For a mere moment, his cloak ruffled as any cloth would, then strangely, it stilled, opposing the violent gale as though of its own accord. The being turned, exposing an iron mask concealing his face, and a single sheathed sword by his side. He was strange, having stubs for arms and legs, but he seemed familiar, as if I had met him in a dream. He stared at me with piercing yellow eyes, examining me, probably finding me as strange as I found him. How did I know he was male? "I am Metaknight, pleased to meet you, although I see both of us share the feeling that we have met before." The one proclaiming to be Metaknight bowed.
Bowing back, I replied, "I am Marth, son of Cornelius, the king of Altea. I assume that you know as much as I do about our current situation." He nodded, "We best search for necessities now, and leave discussion for when we are better settled."
I searched for food while he built shelter out of rocks, bones, and anything else not reduced to powder. I killed snakes and lizards, gathering them and bringing them back to the campsite. I encountered a tiny fox, no taller than Metaknight, with a scarred ear but couldn't bring myself to kill it. I know that I may soon have to kill one, but for now, I will stick to the creatures trying to kill me. Night soon set in and we retreated into a tiny room made up mostly of bones. It had no roof, and it's only entrance was blocked by a long flat rock. The wind howled all through the night, and I had to force myself not to open my eyes, because if I did, I'd look straight at the many animal skulls making up the walls.
I expected nightmares, but the eerie, never ending night seemed worse than anything else. I tried to think of other things, about Metaknight and why he seems so familiar. Finally, sleep and dreams came, showing thousands of memories, like bits and pieces of a puzzle, all making so much sense because nothing was missing.
Morning came all too soon, and pieces were forgotten, some linked together, but too many were gone to understand it again. We resumed the work of the previous day, stopping only to attempt making a fire with a dried out cactus. It lasted only a short while, but it cooked the tiny meat we had into a kind of jerky. The liquid that was removed from the meat, we saved in a bowl from a broken skull (who knew bones were so useful!). I met the same fox, and let it live once more. Something about it seemed familiar, like it was in my dreams as well.
Metaknight managed to make a crude roof out of sand. He used a strange sword that used a kind of lightning to make up the blade. It was useful, able to melt the sand into a rough glass. He spent the day experimenting with it and eventually created a piece long enough and thick enough to fit over our tiny abode and not shatter. I suggested that he make the whole house out of it, in hopes of not having to stare into empty skulls, but he disagreed, saying that luxuries come after necessities.
I caught scorpions and ripped off their poisonous tails. After catching only three, however, I decided that the lizards and snakes were less dangerous and more rewarding. I managed to catch a vulture by surprize and kill it before the ugly thing could flee. We shaved it and after leaving it to cook in the sun atop our new roof, we feasted. We tired quickly with full stomachs. We left our work for the next day, and retreated into our abode to talk. I discussed what little I remembered about my dreams, and strangely, Metaknight felt he had shared the same dream, although he remembered much of what I had forgotten and had forgotten most of what I had remembered. We talked and pieced together most of the dream, still not grasping what it meant. All too soon the sun set, turning the sky blood red, adding all the more to the deathly feeling of our bone-home. Metaknight asked about the fox I had mentioned from my dream, but I was irritated at him for being elusive whenever I asked him about his past and changed the subject. He tried to ask again, so I ended the conversation saying that we need to sleep. He must have noticed my annoyance because he glared at me with his unusual golden eyes. Although the eyes were strange, I knew the look well, the look of one superior silently demanding those of lesser status to tell what they know. Perhaps I misjudged the glare, anger makes one search for more reasons to be angry, fire will always seek more to fuel it.
I refused to tell him anything and laid down, pretending to sleep. I watched him through slitted eyes, but he merely looked toward the moon through the crevices in our scanty home. The light shone upon him like light upon a hidden intruder, exposing something otherwise invisible, his mask was off... and he was crying.
My anger was extinguished in that moment and replaced with pity. We had been taken away from our homes, yet instead of letting us realize that, he made us work, made each of us become so indulged in the work to survive that we couldn't even think of what we had lost. Tears welled up in my eyes and I put a hand on his back. As he turned around, I said, "you aren't alone, pain is lessened when shared." He reached for his mask, but I stopped him. "Please, both of us have seen the other cry, something that some would say is the ultimate show of weakness. I find no shame in it, so please, don't hide behind a mask from me, not tonight when all I can see is your eyes anyways."
He glanced down, then replied, "I... miss the ones I care about... the ones that I wish to protect... You are right, some would say that tears are weak, but to me, they only prove loyalty and love toward the thing missing." "Yeah..." I thought of the world I had come from, it seemed like a dream, a beautiful dream, surrounded by loyal friends. We cried in silence, but soon, the tears slowed and we slept knowing that we were friends.
I, or better yet, we dreamed. We met in the dream, a pure white area like a canvas left unpainted, but soon, others came, my friends and his, the ones we had been missing! Group hugs were had, introductions were made, and soon, all were friends. Still others came, from other worlds, addressing themselves as Link, Tails, Lucas, Magus, Protoman... so many, yet all so familiar and friendly (with the exceptions of the quiet few that stood apart trying to look cool, who we soon group tackled, making even the most serious burst into laughter). Much fun was had, and when I happened to look up, I saw the desert fox, seemingly watching over all that happened... I tried to think about it, but the dream started to fade, and so I forgot and continued playing.
We awoke to find that we remembered the whole endless dream. I mentioned seeing the fox, and when he looked at me questioningly, I remembered that I hadn't told him about it. I quickly told him all I knew about the fox, as he silently contemplated. Finally, he said, "From what you have told me, two things can be inferred, either the fox is the being that has brought us here, for reasons unknown, or the fox is merely a being that has enough power to control dreams and is repaying you for not killing it by giving us that dream last night, and possibly the former dreams as well, trying to help us figure out what is happening."
"...So either way, it is a being of great power and knows why we were brought here. And we must speak with it."
"But what if it cannot speak and is only frightened away... I guess that's our only option, though. And should we speak with it in this world or the world of dreams where it has powers?"
"We must find it first, so first priority first, let's work the day away, if I find it I shall attempt to palaver with it. If not, then we shall try in our dreams."
"Heh, look how the roles have switched, you now the one making the decisions, and I following."
"But one thing has changed."
"What is that?"
"Now we are friends."
We crawled out of our house (strangely, not only am I finding it less and less creepy each time I sleep in it, but I'm also actually growing fond of it). Pondering, I looked back at our home, only tall enough for me to sit up in, yet spacious enough to move about in and long enough for me to lay down in while having my legs extending their full length. Needless to say that Metaknight had enough room, pardon if insulted, but he is rather small.
We went about our daily desert work, him staying and testing if his sword could also be used to cook things (although he seemed to detest the idea of it, such an amazing sword, used as a fire to cook meat). I resumed hunting, not only for food now, but the fox as well. The sun slowly turned to dusk, making work both difficult and dangerous. Much to Metaknight's relief, his sword did not cook the meat, and we have decided to slow cook our food on our roof. The tiny scraps of meat are getting steadily more and more dreary and gross. The worst part was not the amount or taste, but mostly that we were lucky to get two meals a day. Meals are more than eating, being times when we could stop working, a restful moment to sit down and eat.
Complaints aside, we've noticed the days growing steadily shorter. The blazing landscape is frigid as the tundra at night, and getting even colder. Metaknight suggested taking shifts in sleeping, saying that our bodies sleep deeper when cold and that it could get dangerous. I asked what the one awake would do, and he replied that the one awake would watch for the fox and wake the other one when the moon rose directly above us. I agreed to take the first shift, not tired yet, and he agreed, removing his mask and going to sleep. I watched him for a while, wrapped up in his cloak, shining eyes nonexistent under closed eyelids, not lying down, but sitting straight and appearing to doze off. I removed my own cape and wrapped it around him, it wasn't making me any warmer, so might as well let him use it. He opened his eyes for a moment, regarded me (nearly blinded me having had my eyes so adjusted to the dark), then went back to sleep.
As the time drifted by, I watched the winds twirl and sway like elegant dancers in the moonlight. I dared not lie down for fear that sleep would instantly overtake me. I watched for the fox as I had admired the wind, through the tiny gaps in the walls. Growing steadily more tired, I daydreamed, remembering friends of the life before this desert, seeing them in the sands. When I not could bare not knowing how much longer until sleep was, I glanced up to see the moon just peaking over the doorway. As I looked back down, disappointed, I saw a figure in the sand, THE FOX!
As the fox came closer, I knew it was the one, for I could see the scarred ear it had. I tried to awake Metaknight, but he would not wake. Panic gripped me, was the fox trying to trap us here, or in our dreams? I had trusted the fox! "I mean no harm," said a voice, "but I already speak to him in his dream, and wish not to have him awaken just to hear the very same conversation again."
I knew it must be the voice of the fox, and so I asked one of the most important questions first. "Did you bring us here?"
"Yes, this place is in a sense, a dream. A dream in which hardships are faced and mysteries abound."
"Why did we come here?"
"This world draws many random beings into it, for it has no residents and would become nothing without other beings to keep it alive."
I contemplated, then asked, "So our only purpose here was to keep this place in existence?"
"Well, that's more or less my job, yours was to spend enough time to make an honest decision, will you stay and live here, with anyone else, like in your dream, will you become residents here, keeping this place alive? Some rules cannot be changed even here, such as life, death, love, time, and hate, but you can live happily here, and at any point go back to your other life, not missing a moment of that life. You can choose to stay here, leave here, or both, living two lives, living in this dream whenever you wish to get away from the other life, and vice-versa. Only one warning, though, should you grow old and die in either world, you shall die in both."
"Why would you make such an offer, a perfect life, an endless dream, why hasn't others already come and done this?"
"Because you are the first to let me live!"
Bowing back, I replied, "I am Marth, son of Cornelius, the king of Altea. I assume that you know as much as I do about our current situation." He nodded, "We best search for necessities now, and leave discussion for when we are better settled."
I searched for food while he built shelter out of rocks, bones, and anything else not reduced to powder. I killed snakes and lizards, gathering them and bringing them back to the campsite. I encountered a tiny fox, no taller than Metaknight, with a scarred ear but couldn't bring myself to kill it. I know that I may soon have to kill one, but for now, I will stick to the creatures trying to kill me. Night soon set in and we retreated into a tiny room made up mostly of bones. It had no roof, and it's only entrance was blocked by a long flat rock. The wind howled all through the night, and I had to force myself not to open my eyes, because if I did, I'd look straight at the many animal skulls making up the walls.
I expected nightmares, but the eerie, never ending night seemed worse than anything else. I tried to think of other things, about Metaknight and why he seems so familiar. Finally, sleep and dreams came, showing thousands of memories, like bits and pieces of a puzzle, all making so much sense because nothing was missing.
Morning came all too soon, and pieces were forgotten, some linked together, but too many were gone to understand it again. We resumed the work of the previous day, stopping only to attempt making a fire with a dried out cactus. It lasted only a short while, but it cooked the tiny meat we had into a kind of jerky. The liquid that was removed from the meat, we saved in a bowl from a broken skull (who knew bones were so useful!). I met the same fox, and let it live once more. Something about it seemed familiar, like it was in my dreams as well.
Metaknight managed to make a crude roof out of sand. He used a strange sword that used a kind of lightning to make up the blade. It was useful, able to melt the sand into a rough glass. He spent the day experimenting with it and eventually created a piece long enough and thick enough to fit over our tiny abode and not shatter. I suggested that he make the whole house out of it, in hopes of not having to stare into empty skulls, but he disagreed, saying that luxuries come after necessities.
I caught scorpions and ripped off their poisonous tails. After catching only three, however, I decided that the lizards and snakes were less dangerous and more rewarding. I managed to catch a vulture by surprize and kill it before the ugly thing could flee. We shaved it and after leaving it to cook in the sun atop our new roof, we feasted. We tired quickly with full stomachs. We left our work for the next day, and retreated into our abode to talk. I discussed what little I remembered about my dreams, and strangely, Metaknight felt he had shared the same dream, although he remembered much of what I had forgotten and had forgotten most of what I had remembered. We talked and pieced together most of the dream, still not grasping what it meant. All too soon the sun set, turning the sky blood red, adding all the more to the deathly feeling of our bone-home. Metaknight asked about the fox I had mentioned from my dream, but I was irritated at him for being elusive whenever I asked him about his past and changed the subject. He tried to ask again, so I ended the conversation saying that we need to sleep. He must have noticed my annoyance because he glared at me with his unusual golden eyes. Although the eyes were strange, I knew the look well, the look of one superior silently demanding those of lesser status to tell what they know. Perhaps I misjudged the glare, anger makes one search for more reasons to be angry, fire will always seek more to fuel it.
I refused to tell him anything and laid down, pretending to sleep. I watched him through slitted eyes, but he merely looked toward the moon through the crevices in our scanty home. The light shone upon him like light upon a hidden intruder, exposing something otherwise invisible, his mask was off... and he was crying.
My anger was extinguished in that moment and replaced with pity. We had been taken away from our homes, yet instead of letting us realize that, he made us work, made each of us become so indulged in the work to survive that we couldn't even think of what we had lost. Tears welled up in my eyes and I put a hand on his back. As he turned around, I said, "you aren't alone, pain is lessened when shared." He reached for his mask, but I stopped him. "Please, both of us have seen the other cry, something that some would say is the ultimate show of weakness. I find no shame in it, so please, don't hide behind a mask from me, not tonight when all I can see is your eyes anyways."
He glanced down, then replied, "I... miss the ones I care about... the ones that I wish to protect... You are right, some would say that tears are weak, but to me, they only prove loyalty and love toward the thing missing." "Yeah..." I thought of the world I had come from, it seemed like a dream, a beautiful dream, surrounded by loyal friends. We cried in silence, but soon, the tears slowed and we slept knowing that we were friends.
I, or better yet, we dreamed. We met in the dream, a pure white area like a canvas left unpainted, but soon, others came, my friends and his, the ones we had been missing! Group hugs were had, introductions were made, and soon, all were friends. Still others came, from other worlds, addressing themselves as Link, Tails, Lucas, Magus, Protoman... so many, yet all so familiar and friendly (with the exceptions of the quiet few that stood apart trying to look cool, who we soon group tackled, making even the most serious burst into laughter). Much fun was had, and when I happened to look up, I saw the desert fox, seemingly watching over all that happened... I tried to think about it, but the dream started to fade, and so I forgot and continued playing.
We awoke to find that we remembered the whole endless dream. I mentioned seeing the fox, and when he looked at me questioningly, I remembered that I hadn't told him about it. I quickly told him all I knew about the fox, as he silently contemplated. Finally, he said, "From what you have told me, two things can be inferred, either the fox is the being that has brought us here, for reasons unknown, or the fox is merely a being that has enough power to control dreams and is repaying you for not killing it by giving us that dream last night, and possibly the former dreams as well, trying to help us figure out what is happening."
"...So either way, it is a being of great power and knows why we were brought here. And we must speak with it."
"But what if it cannot speak and is only frightened away... I guess that's our only option, though. And should we speak with it in this world or the world of dreams where it has powers?"
"We must find it first, so first priority first, let's work the day away, if I find it I shall attempt to palaver with it. If not, then we shall try in our dreams."
"Heh, look how the roles have switched, you now the one making the decisions, and I following."
"But one thing has changed."
"What is that?"
"Now we are friends."
We crawled out of our house (strangely, not only am I finding it less and less creepy each time I sleep in it, but I'm also actually growing fond of it). Pondering, I looked back at our home, only tall enough for me to sit up in, yet spacious enough to move about in and long enough for me to lay down in while having my legs extending their full length. Needless to say that Metaknight had enough room, pardon if insulted, but he is rather small.
We went about our daily desert work, him staying and testing if his sword could also be used to cook things (although he seemed to detest the idea of it, such an amazing sword, used as a fire to cook meat). I resumed hunting, not only for food now, but the fox as well. The sun slowly turned to dusk, making work both difficult and dangerous. Much to Metaknight's relief, his sword did not cook the meat, and we have decided to slow cook our food on our roof. The tiny scraps of meat are getting steadily more and more dreary and gross. The worst part was not the amount or taste, but mostly that we were lucky to get two meals a day. Meals are more than eating, being times when we could stop working, a restful moment to sit down and eat.
Complaints aside, we've noticed the days growing steadily shorter. The blazing landscape is frigid as the tundra at night, and getting even colder. Metaknight suggested taking shifts in sleeping, saying that our bodies sleep deeper when cold and that it could get dangerous. I asked what the one awake would do, and he replied that the one awake would watch for the fox and wake the other one when the moon rose directly above us. I agreed to take the first shift, not tired yet, and he agreed, removing his mask and going to sleep. I watched him for a while, wrapped up in his cloak, shining eyes nonexistent under closed eyelids, not lying down, but sitting straight and appearing to doze off. I removed my own cape and wrapped it around him, it wasn't making me any warmer, so might as well let him use it. He opened his eyes for a moment, regarded me (nearly blinded me having had my eyes so adjusted to the dark), then went back to sleep.
As the time drifted by, I watched the winds twirl and sway like elegant dancers in the moonlight. I dared not lie down for fear that sleep would instantly overtake me. I watched for the fox as I had admired the wind, through the tiny gaps in the walls. Growing steadily more tired, I daydreamed, remembering friends of the life before this desert, seeing them in the sands. When I not could bare not knowing how much longer until sleep was, I glanced up to see the moon just peaking over the doorway. As I looked back down, disappointed, I saw a figure in the sand, THE FOX!
As the fox came closer, I knew it was the one, for I could see the scarred ear it had. I tried to awake Metaknight, but he would not wake. Panic gripped me, was the fox trying to trap us here, or in our dreams? I had trusted the fox! "I mean no harm," said a voice, "but I already speak to him in his dream, and wish not to have him awaken just to hear the very same conversation again."
I knew it must be the voice of the fox, and so I asked one of the most important questions first. "Did you bring us here?"
"Yes, this place is in a sense, a dream. A dream in which hardships are faced and mysteries abound."
"Why did we come here?"
"This world draws many random beings into it, for it has no residents and would become nothing without other beings to keep it alive."
I contemplated, then asked, "So our only purpose here was to keep this place in existence?"
"Well, that's more or less my job, yours was to spend enough time to make an honest decision, will you stay and live here, with anyone else, like in your dream, will you become residents here, keeping this place alive? Some rules cannot be changed even here, such as life, death, love, time, and hate, but you can live happily here, and at any point go back to your other life, not missing a moment of that life. You can choose to stay here, leave here, or both, living two lives, living in this dream whenever you wish to get away from the other life, and vice-versa. Only one warning, though, should you grow old and die in either world, you shall die in both."
"Why would you make such an offer, a perfect life, an endless dream, why hasn't others already come and done this?"
"Because you are the first to let me live!"