Puzzle-box Mansion
Chapter Two- Grace
The words he said took a brief moment for Shulk to register the meaning of, and even then he had to decode them with questions. "You're saying this is… normal?"
"For this place, I suppose," he replied, an almost condescendingly sweet smile appearing on his face. "I do not know any more about you, beyond what you know, nor do I know why you are here."
Surely that wasn't all the information available on the situation. "Why can't I remember anything about myself before this?" Shulk questioned in a voice that was still unfamiliar to him. "Who else is here, would someone know more about me? What is this place, is there a way to regain my memory?"
A shake of the head, accompanied by another saccharine smile answered him. "I have been here for a very long time, and yet I cannot answer your questions properly. None of us know why our memories were taken, or why we were placed here," he admitted. "We most certainly have no clue what this mansion is, but I believe I should show it to you. And perhaps you will be lucky enough to encounter someone who knew you in your world, but it is doubtful they would remember knowing you with any more clarity than you can remember knowing yourself."
All of his explanation could have been easily summed up in three words: "I don't know", but Shulk felt pointing that out would have been rude. Instead, he held his tongue as the blue-haired boy grabbed him by the wrist. "Would you mind if I showed you this place a bit?", he asked in the same, condescending tone.
"Sure," he answered, and the boy let go of his hand, striding forward with very precise steps. Something of his mannerisms reminded him of a dancer, but somehow that didn't seem right. No, the gold circlet glinting on his head told him the correct answer, and he felt an embarrassed flush burn his cheeks. "Thank you, y-your highness," he stuttered out, as the shameful feeling he had been a bit rude encroached upon him.
The royal looked back at him with a look of slight surprise. "Please, just call me Marth," he requested. "I hardly see how titles granted to me in a previous life apply in this place."
Marth, Shulk, neither was at all what he might call a "name", but they hardly seemed alike, even if he had never heard either before. Marth had an odd grace to it, just like its bearer, like a flower or star, while Shulk seemed a bit clunky and more practical, perhaps like the name of a mineral. Another few steps forward for the pair, down a never-ending hall that took a sharp turn to the left after what seemed like miles. He still felt a bit shaky walking, and started to wonder if perhaps he had not been injured, but rather ill.
As they approached the turn, Shulk slowed, and came to a halt before a great mirror that served as a wall ending the hallway. His image was sharper here than it had been in the glass, and he could more easily make out finer details of his appearance. For instance, the sleeves of his charcoal undershirt were laced with purple and red designs, and the shorts he was wearing had odd, arcing patterns of their own. He could more easily see now that it was unlikely he had been ill, though. His eyes lacked dark circles under them, and there was no odd lack of color in his face. Of course, with nothing to compare it to, perhaps he was paler than usual, but he truly did not know.
An odd question occurred to him as he pried himself away from his reflection and sprinted a few steps to catch up with the royal: how would he have known that he would have looked pale and dark-eyed if he had been sick? And furthermore, how did he know any of the knowledge he had retained, despite losing even his own self-awareness. With a voice permeated by the gasps for breath the running had left him with, he posed this question to Marth. His answer, once more, could have easily been summed up with the same three words, and yet he did not act as if his answer was insufficient.
The two walked down another hall lined with endless doors, but this time, Marth began to speak as they passed the monotonous sections. "Many of these rooms are nearly empty," he told, not even casting a small glance back at him. "There are approximately one-thousand, eight-hundred and twelve rooms in this mansion, in fact, and that number has been checked by many of us. Still, if somehow all those rooms were to not be enough, we are sure more would appear. There is also a library, a kitchen, a garden, and other more specialized rooms, but the vast majority of them simply have a bit of furniture in them. I would recommend choosing a room to be your own that is near the other inhabited rooms, but if you aren't one for noise, perhaps not too close."
It seemed to be almost a robotic recitation of information he had shared many times before. However, an odd question occurred to him, and one he somehow felt odd asking. "Why would I stay here?", Shulk questioned. "Surely the people who knew me before I lost my memory are worried about me, and I should find them, right?"
Though he could not see it, Shulk knew Marth was wearing the same condescending smile he had when first speaking to him. "I would like to show you something," he almost whispered. "Please, follow me as best you can."
He sped up, and Shulk struggled to follow. He hardly knew how that had answered his question, but the lump forming in his throat told him the answer wouldn't be straightforward. Gasping for breath with every turn, he followed Marth's graceful steps through an odd sequence. Left, right, right, straight, left, left; he mentally recorded the turns so he could follow it back to the start of this odd dance.
The last turn placed them in a very short hall that led to a grand foyer, with two staircases splitting from the path and curving down to a grand set of doors that could only be the main entrance. There was an odd beauty about this place, with its cold white floors reflecting the daylight filtering out of cracks between the doors, and Shulk was reminded that he'd heard the place be called a mansion. This, not the endless hallways, was what gave this name validity.
Marth stepped carefully down one side's stairwell and before Shulk could even followed him, swung open the front doors in a grand motion. He found himself following down to peer through them, but not to step outside. No, rather he couldn't quite believe what he could barely see from the top level and wanted to confirm the vision of madness.
Beyond the doors lay a vast sky of splattered red, violets, and blues against a pitch black void. No ground or sun was in sight, only a bright cross-shaped burst of white that must have been what he had earlier thought to be the morning sun. The outside he had seen beyond his reflection in the window, had he imagined that, or had it been a trick of the odd light?
"This is why we cannot leave," Marth explained in his almost painful to hear tone. "There is simply no world for us to leave to. I am truly sorry to have to tell you such things, but it is better you know what your life is up front than sugarcoating it."
Shulk gave a nod, not because he understood what he saw, but what he heard. Outside was still an incomprehensible mess, but at least he was not given any false hope. "Anything else you need to show me?", he asked the royal.
An odd chuckle came from Marth. "Perhaps I should not be the one to explain everything to you," he mused "No, I think it would do you some good to meet the others now."
AN- Even though the polls indicated that this isn't the story people wanted me to write, it was still the one I enjoyed writing the most, so it will most likely be the one I continue. Besides, MahNati is reading, and that's an honor enough to warrant continuation. Er, thank you to everyone who followed, favorite, and reviewed. It really means a lot to me to know people are reading this. Sorry, another short chapter, but I sort of want to try to see if shorter chapters will work for this story. So, thanks for reading! –Twilight Joltik
