Into the tower keep strode the boy; and within moments his eyes were rewarded with the sight of the one whom he sought:
Mono, surrounded by dark shadowlings, on a pedestal raised.
Mono saw him, the boy saved from certain death by her infernal bargain with The Queen; her breath caught in her throat.
Images flashed through her mind: memories of Wander, of being with him.
Wander.
Could this boy she named Ico really be him?
A boy so short and scrawny, with feet too big and head too large, and a manner sweet and clumsy?
Well, thought she, that was not too far off the mark for Wander, even as she knew him.
His hair was the right dark-red color, his eyes the familiar shade of grey; there was in this regard a strong resemblance, as between a father and a son.
But his voice boomed and cracked not like Wander at all, occasionally becoming a squeak; and gone were the attempts at grave seriousness and grim self-importance that she had come to know Wander by.
But then… could that not have first manifested early in his youth, as the foolhardy bravery the boy Ico now displayed?
As if in answer to her musings, the boy puffed forth his chest high, and called out to Mono in a voice which readily pierced though the air between them:
"I am here, strange magical girl without horns!"
"...Wander," she tried to call out, to see if he would in any way respond to the name, but the sound came out thin and weak; her throat was still too tight.
As such, the boy could not hear her; he was too far away.
Lifted he the ancient sword, wrested from Trico's wounded chest. "And look, I have brought your sword! Worry not, I will save you!"
The shadowling guards, some beastial and others winged like bats, rose to his challenge; they sped forth at him in a flurry of claws and wings.
With ancient sword held at the ready behind him, the boy that was at once Ico and Wander charged at the shadows with a battle cry, loud and fierce.
He swung at them: wild, desperate, artless, as would befit a young boy untrained in the ways of the sword.
But then, a change in his demeanor... a maturity, subtle… but growing.
The resulting prowess of many lessons; experiences spanning weeks, months, maybe even years, condensed within mere moments.
It was as if he were becoming older, before Mono's very eyes.
His feet shifted into more expert stances, grounded and purposeful...
The thews of his scrawny arms tensed and enlarged, veins blackening as before...
Steely and keen his gaze became, taking keen note of all the numerous enemies which surrounded him... the irises of his eyes glowed faintly blue.
Emotions churned deep within her like a storm as she watched him transform thus: his movements were familiar, as if by Wander he had been taught.
Well she could imagine her beloved's form before her, driving away some vermin threat.
And then, to Mono's eyes, the boy was not merely a well-trained disciple; he had become Wander himself.
The reincarnated Wander dispersed his shadowy enemies, and ran toward Mono.
Tears pooled in her eyes, as Mono felt the boy throwing his arms around her tightly; slowly, she returned his embrace.
"Wander," she choked, "you are alive…"
The boy pulled back, looking at her blankly. "Wander...?"
"It is me," she insisted. "Mono."
The blank stare remained, and showed not a glimmer of understanding; the boy was mystified.
Mono fumbled in both body and mind, desperate not to lose the Wander she knew to forgetfulness now that she had at last found him again.
"Is there any chance that somehow, deep down... even just a little bit... you remember me?"
"Uh…" he began, eyes darting about. "Well, sure, of course I remember you."
Hope leapt up within her chest, painful in its force; so he was not lost to her!
"You rescued me from the cage," he continued. "So, your name is Mono?"
Her hopes sank heavily; he had no memory of her, his mind wiped clean by his rebirth.
She nodded in response to his question. "...Yes. That is my name. And yours is Wander."
Mono vowed inwardly to make him understand who he was, and hold onto the faint hope that perhaps one day his memories he would retrieve.
The boy felt the determination behind her words; she could see the clunky workings of his mind, as he attempted to understand.
But alas, he could not; he shrugged. "...Okay," said he, giving up and giving in.
He took her hand in his and tugged at her to come away with him. "Those shadows are gone now, but they will be back before long," he xplained. "Let's go!"
Claps of applause; they turned to see The Queen was formed where before, in but mere moments past, she was not, sitting gracefully upon the throne at the back of the keep's large chamber-hall.
"Praise to thee, boy…" she purred. "Thy skills in battle are impressive... I commend thee for making it thus far, alive and well…"
The boy stepped toward her, grimly set to deal with her as he had the other foes.
"Wait-" said Mono, but Ico-Wander listened not.
"What are you going to do with Mono?!" he demanded of The Queen.
"No matter now... thou art too late," replied The Queen. "This 'body', if one may call it such, will soon perish... Mono will be revived as Our successor.
That is her fate... she will be the receptacle for Our soul.
When she awakes, her memories of thee will have vanished, just as thine own of her.
Now cast the sword aside and leave this place…"
The boy pulled away from Mono's grasp, and raised the sword.
"Tsk, tsk," clucked the disapproving Queen, "not a good little boy at all... dost thou really want to die so badly?"
The Queen rose from her throne, eyes aflame in red-gold blaze.
The boy yelled, and charged at her full-tilt with sword drawn and gleaming.
A blast of dark energy, an explosion of shadow, was tossed at him with a flick of her pale hand; this he evaded deftly, and with the sword deflected.
Up the steps to the throne dais he ran.
To be without weapon while challenged by a well-armed foe The Queen would suffer not: a blade she formed of dark tendrils, a smoky blade of darkness.
His aggressive blows she parried calmly, effortlessly, until at last she grabbed him by his remaining horn.
Using only his horn, she flung him away from her as if he weighed naught.
Into a stone wall did he land; the horn hit the stone, and at the base broke in twain.
Laughter from The Queen. " ...A horned boy no longer!"
Slumped against the wall, the boy growled: it began in his own tones, then became a deep and rumbling roar like that of the male Dormin.
He rose to his feet and stalked toward her, like an angry beast.
The Queen was not affrighted or concerned, but rather exhilarated; with heightened force did the fight begin anew.
Agonized Mono looked on, as Boy and Queen spun one about the other; a duel, a dance; a courting ritual not of love, but of death.
Their blades locked; the taller queen pressed down upon him, and summoned dark energy within a free hand to deliver into a punch to his gut.
But the boy was faster; pushed he against her, with sharp and unexpected strength.
Her guard faltered as she stumbled back apace, dazed; he lunged forth, reaching, and seized her by the throat.
He pulled her toward him, but this was like as to drawing a nocked arrow: it was preparation for him to shove her forward.
With the inhuman power of Dormin coursing through his veins, the shove blasted her backward many lengths, directly into the arms of her throne.
The Queen did not attempt to rise; nay, as he stalked toward her again like a hunter after his prey, she sat slumped bonelessly in the stone chair, and made no move to defend herself.
The boy who was Dormin stabbed her through the chest.
Lines of glowing blue curled outward from the wound, creating the same sigil as the ones borne by the Colossi.
"Thou canst not be rid of Us, ever… not even if... thou takest Our lives…"
The Queen's eyes turned a glowing blue, filling with tears.
She smiled.
"...We thank you," she whispered, in a voice sincere.
Dark tendrils arose from her wound, and entered the boy.
Mono cried out, running forth; caught she the boy in her arms, as he lost consciousness.
The Queen sighed, her shadowy form dispersing into naught but smoke and then clean air.
Mono stroked the boy's dark-reddish hair.
"Wander, come back," pled she in trembling voice. "You cannot die... please do not leave me… not after all we have sacrificed…"
A kiss she gave to him upon his brow.
Of a sudden, she felt the strength within her ebb; it was replaced with a force far greater, rising and crashing over her as a tidal wave.
Her skin lost what little color it possessed, turning a marble-white; her dark hair billowed around her, in a wind which whipped around her alone.
Mono's gaze was overtaken with a glowing blue.
Cracks formed in the ceiling.
Fissures opened in the floor beneath Mono's bare feet.
With her newfound strength, easily could she carry the boy's limp body in her arms.
Slowly, solemnly, and with great purpose walked she, as chips from ceiling fell down around her, and the keep of the castle from quaking earth shuddered.
Marched she through the chamber-hall, and out the great doorway of the castle keep.
Her dress turned from whitish-pale to the darkest tint of black as the keep crumbled, and she entered into the grim pale light.
Across the bridge did Mono make her way.
Though the tower turned to rubble and the bridge fell away behind her with every step as she walked, she made no effort to hurry; time meant little to Mono.
Well could she feel the vibrations of the earth, as it reclaimed all The Queen had wrought.
She approached the great beast Trico, waiting patiently upon the top of the second-tallest tower.
Well could Trico see that she carried the boy in her arms, and that she intended him no harm.
Though never had they properly met, in the lock of their gazes an understanding passed between them.
In that instant she knew Trico, and Trico knew her, and the creature accepted the girl as its rightful master.
With a gentle hand she touched the sword-wound blighting Trico's breast; the flesh underneath her hand knitted together, healing itself forthwith.
Trico lowers its head, allowing her to climb more easily onto his scruff.
The boy Wander's head rested upon Mono's shoulder, the remnant bases of his horns no longer a threat; she inclined her own head, resting her cheek upon his crown..
She closed her eyes.
Trico took flight, a moment before its tower perch crumbled beneath it.
And Mono saw nothing, and knew nothing, and remembered nothing.
XX
The boy awoke to a creature licking his face; 'twas a dark black mare, with a patch of white gracing her brow.
Satisfied he was awake, the mare returned to her meal: a large watermelon, split in twain; on the outside bright green, exposed inner flesh juicy and red.
The cries of seagulls, the lapping of waves, sand beneath him; he was lying on the sandy shore, but upon what coast he knew not.
Moreover, he could not recall who he might be.
A girl was standing over him.
Her hair was straight and dark; her eyes were large and dark, like those of the horse; her skin a soft and lively shade, like as to the faint cherry-blossom embroidery of her gown.
The boy stood. "Hello," he greeted her, full of cheer. "What is your name?"
The girl's brows slightly knit, and her lashes fluttered in rapid blinks. "I… do not know," she admitted, perplexed.
"That's okay. Neither do I," he returned, his spirits undampened.
"I cannot seem to remember anything," she went on. "How we came here, who we are… nor do I remember these creatures intent on following us… perhaps they belong to us in some way?"
In this she referred not only to the horse, but to the large winged beast sitting tamely behind her; a beast that was not quite a bird, and not quite a cat.
Though the boy searched his mind for a proper term by which to call it, he strangely could think of none.
The boy shook his head. "Let's go wander around. We shall think of something."
The girl smiled. "All right."
And wander they did, into the shadow of a fruit tree. A white-tailed lizard climbed its trunk.
The girl picked a piece of fruit, accidently causing the branch bearing it to break; it fell to the grass below.
The boy grabbed the lizard, pinning it against the tree; the lizard wriggled and abandoned its tail in order to escape him.
With fascination did the boy regard the discarded tail, picking it up to closer inspect it; but a hawk swooped down, and with its talons snatched the tail from the boy's hand.
"Hey!" he cried out, in protest.
The boy lifted up the broken branch-stick. He took the girl's hand in his. "Come, let's go after it!"
He pulled, running in the direction of the hawk's flight.
To the girl's misfortune, she was jerked forth just as she took a bite of the red-gold fruit; the piece of fruit fell into the back of her throat and she made a choking noise, sounding very much like...
"Yorda!" he exclaimed.
She swallowed. "Huh?" asked she.
"That should be your name," he explained. "Yorda."
"Uh... all right."
The two of them raced across the grassy fields of the Forbidden Lands, after the hawk.
The horse, whose name of Agro was now known only to her and would never be spoken again, galloped up to the running pair.
Without hesitation or thought, the boy expertly mounted astride the mare, pulling the newly-named Yorda up to sit with him.
The cat-bird beast, whose name of Trico would suffer the same fate as Agro, bounded after them, fast outpacing Agro with the length of its strides.
Trico gained upon the hawk, and opened its wide-gaping maw; the hawk disappeared within, and Trico's jaws snapped shut.
The sound of laughter rumbled over and through them, male and female voices mingled.
Dormin was together once more, feeling their every joy in the golden light of the sun, and would dwell within their blissful hearts forever.
'Twas the ending We always dreamt of.