Remember Rift Chapter One, a mario fanfic

Remember

Episode Five: Rift

Chapter One

She paced the wooden floor of the small house, glancing every so often at the window that offered a view of the snow-covered meadow outside. She studied every sign of movement, hoping that every swaying blade of grass or rustling leaf would be him, coming at last to meet her.

A small bundle was clutched to her chest, wrapped in a crocheted white blanket. When she wasn't looking out the window she was gazing at the bundle with concern in her yellow eyes. A pair of mismatched eyes stared back at her: one sunny orb that matched her own eyes, and one dull blue eye that reminded her of the one she was waiting for. Soon, he would be here and soon, they would all be safe.

A tiny, pale hand wriggled out of the blanket, connected to a swollen wrist. She sighed and touched the baby's hand so he would grasp her finger. With her thumb she stroked the irritated skin on his wrist. Where it was swollen the veins were visible, dark purple paint strokes that stood out against the white skin.

Tick.

Her mouth wavered into a frown and she threw a glance over her shoulder toward the wall clock. The mechanism inside ticked away rhythmically, turning the ornate black hands around the wooden face of the clock. It was almost seven P.M.

"I apologize for making you wait, Sha'i."

The woman nearly jumped in surprise. The voice had come from right in front of her, but she could see only the empty living room before her.

"Where are you?" Sha'i stepped forward and pursed her lips together. "We're running out of time. Stop playing games, Aldrik."

An invisible force began to pull the bundle out of her arms. Sha'i instinctively wrapped her arms tighter around the baby and took a few steps back. "What are you doing? Stop this, Aldrik, please, it's almost seven!"

"I need him in order to do this, Sha'i. Give him to me."

"Let me see your face. Why are you hiding?"

She felt one of his hands next to hers. Before she could shy away again, a cold finger pressed onto her wrist, and she found herself unable to move. Helpless, she could only watch as the baby was taken from her grasp. It was surreal, watching the small bundle hover through the air and come to a halt a few paces in front of her. But then a figure materialized behind the blanketed bundle, holding it in muscular, blue-skinned arms. Sha'i met his intense gaze and gasped.

"Yo...ur… eyes…" she rasped, barely able to move her mouth. A chasm opened in her heart as she realized what this meant.

Tick.

The cracks grew deeper and wider every time the gears in the clock moved the hands one notch forward, until her heart had completely shattered. In her frozen state, she could only cry.

Aldrik did not say a word. He held the child's purple-veined wrist between his thumb and forefinger, watching the clock intently for the moment it struck seven P.M. Three seconds… Two seconds… One second… When the minute hand clicked into place, a perfectly vertical line, the baby wailed and thrashed about in the blanket. But Aldrik held his wrist, keeping him from falling to the floor as the cloaking spell was administered to his bloodstream.

By the time Aldrik was finished, the freezing spell on Sha'i had worn off and she crumpled weakly to her knees, glaring up at her husband.

Glowing red eyes met hers, glazed over as if he were in a trance.

"You… promised…" Sha'i sobbed, trying to get to her feet. "You promised you'd… never touch… that book again!"

"I didn't have to."

Sha'i was taken aback by the voice coming out of Aldrik's mouth. Something wasn't quite right about it, as if there was something darker behind his tone, speaking in time with him.

"What...do you mean?"

"The Voice allows me to stay in contact with the Dark Prognosticus even while it is not in my possession." A terrible grin split his face. "You thought I'd be safe if I didn't touch it. Isn't that right? Aha ha ha ha… This entire time, you thought I was free from the Voice, didn't you? You thought I really loved you! Didn't you?!" His voice was brimming with madness. "Well, my dear, it seems there is only one thing you are good for..."

"Wh-why?"

"...producing an heir."

"Why?! Why are you doing this?!" Sha'i stood up at last, tears still streaming down her face. "We were going to escape together! Tonight, we were finally going to be s-safe…" her voice faltered. "But this was your plan all along, wasn't it?"

Aldrik chuckled deeply. "I cannot take credit for this. But I commend the planning of the Voice. It's been guiding me all along. And now that I have a child who can carry out the Dark Prognosticus' prophecies, I have no use for you anymore."

"You can't have him!" Sha'i lunged for the boy, trying desperately to steal him from Aldrik's grasp. But he was too quick, and in an instant Sha'i found herself frozen again.

"You told your father you were leaving tonight, correct?"

Sha'i sobbed.

"Then he shouldn't miss you. I imagine you've already said goodbye. I know we had planned to go to The Gateway together tonight, but I think you'll have just as much fun there on your own. And don't plan on coming back."

Sha'i was unable to object as Aldrik took her hand. It was a gentle gesture, and for a moment nothing happened. She couldn't turn her head, but out of the corner of her eye she noticed a faint blue light.

"Goodbye, Sha'i." He hesitated.

Tick.

And then she was gone.

By the time Timpani reached the town square, she was gasping for breath. In the dim morning light she could see people scrambling about, moving away from the cliff base where the explosion had come from. Moving against the tide, she waded her way through the crowd and worked determinedly towards the black gate that divided her world and Blumiere's.

Reaching the intricate entryway, Timpani placed a hand on it and paused for a moment to catch her breath. Not only was she tired due to the run from Merletoph's house, but she also hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours.

A strangled cry sounded out from somewhere behind the gate, startling Timpani. It was close, and sounded vaguely familiar.

Without taking a second to think things through, the caramel-haired woman threw open the gate and leapt inside, ready to face whatever perpetrator was beyond it.

Timpani was met only by the sight of two motionless bodies. She recognized the first immediately.

"Ronan!" Timpani quickened her pace, flying to his side and kneeling next to him. He was slumped over the body of a girl in a long green dress who looked a bit younger than Timpani. Her braided auburn hair was frizzled and dirty, and Timpani noticed her entire right arm was covered in dark blue-violet veins. Ronan sported a nasty wound on his chest. It was a blackened spot that almost looked like a burn, except it formed a perfect circle, right over his heart.

Both Ronan and the girl were unresponsive, but after a quick test she was able to find a faint pulse in the girl. Ronan's heart was still beating normally, which Timpani found to be both relieving and a little odd.

Her fingers neared the blackened circle on his chest. It was no doubt caused by some sort of magic, but exactly how had it been administered? It didn't appear to be very deep, so perhaps it had been thrown from a distance. But then what had caused the wounds on the woman's arm? Timpani didn't even know if she could call it a wound. It was more like…something that was harming her from the inside.

Turning back to Ronan, Timpani placed her hand just below his wound. Through the thin fabric of his shirt she could feel that his skin was abnormally hot, pulsing waves of heat with every heartbeat. Her own heart was beating faster. What was she to do? She needed to help them, but there was no way she could carry them both back to town, and she was already running out of time to find Blumiere.

"Ouch!" A burning sensation suddenly caught her fingertip, and she withdrew her hand from Ronan's chest.

The wound is spreading?!

Timpani blinked down at the black circle, which had widened slightly in circumference. The cloth of his shirt had begun to glow red, as if it were on fire, and the ends of the fibers were slowly deteriorating.

"I wouldn't touch it, if I were you."

"Huh?!" Timpani looked up toward the sound of the voice—and nearly screamed. Hovering about a foot over her head was a young boy dressed entirely in purple-and-cream motley. A half-black, half-white mask covered his face and was staring at her with mismatched eyes and a crooked grin. She shuddered. Surely this boy was one of Blumiere's tribesmates, which meant she was in trouble.

"Please," she started, but he cut her off.

"Your worry is like that of a child who has just lost their mother," he quipped in a smooth voice that was made unsettling by his mask. "But I can assure you, your worry is unnecessary."

Timpani could only stare at him for a moment, taken aback by this bizarre figure. "Wh… Can you… help them?"

The grin somehow seemed to grow wider. "Aha ha ha. Of course not. I am not equipped with magic that can heal these wounds." He observed Timpani's crestfallen face before continuing, "However, there's someone I know who can. Someone you know."

"Merletoph?" It didn't take Timpani long to come up with the answer. "But how are you going to get them there?"

"Teleportation, of course!" the boy laughed. "Mere child's play for the Master of Dimensions!"

And child's play it would still be, Timpani thought to herself. She stared at the floating figure warily.

"You don't trust me, do you?"

"Not at all."

"Too bad!" He laughed again and spun upside-down in the air. "Find a magician you can trust and you'll be able to obtain things you never dreamed of. Or you'll fall prey to chaos and live the rest of your life in despair, aha ha."

"I—"

"Oh, but you've already got a magician you can trust, haven't you?"

Timpani's blood ran cold.

"I would hurry, milady. I'm not sure how much longer Blumiere will last up there."

She was on her feet in an instant. "What do you mean?! Is he alright?"

The boy only shrugged. "Why don't you go see for yourself? I will take care of your friends, aha."

Timpani took one step up the hill and stopped. "Do you promise you'll take them to Merletoph?"

"Absolutely."

"I…" Timpani hesitated. "I want to trust you. I am going to bring Blumiere to Merletoph's house, and I want to see you there. Alright?"

The grin tilted to the side slightly. "I will see you there, milady."

Timpani nodded, "Thank you." She turned and ran up the hill, not bothering to say anything else. When she'd reached the next level of the slope she peered down through the trees. All three bodies were gone. Momentarily she felt like a fool for trusting someone she'd only just met, and especially someone as odd as that boy, but she didn't have any other choice if she wanted to get to Blumiere. That was, of course, assuming the boy was telling the truth about Blumiere being in danger.

At last she reached the top of the trail. She paused at the twisted fence and listened for any sounds of battle, but the air was eerily quiet. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the scent of rain, and for the first time noticed dark clouds spotting the sky. Hands shaking, she ventured onward.

The second black gate that led to the castle's front yard was opened already, and just beyond it was another body in a crumpled heap on the ground. Timpani covered her mouth with her hand and stepped closer.

This man was beyond saving. There was a circular wound on his back similar to Ronan's, except the blackened area had burrowed deep into his skin, eating away at his flesh and leaving his bones exposed. Timpani had to look away. Images of Ronan's small body deteriorating like this man surfaced in her mind, and she shook her head rapidly in attempt to clear them.

He will be fine, she muttered to herself. That boy will save him.

She did her best to believe her own thoughts and pressed onward towards the castle.

Several more human bodies littered the grass, most of them people Timpani knew. She kept her mouth covered and avoided looking at them. Searching for any sign of movement, Timpani walked along the edge of the cliff, hoping to find Blumiere. But there was no one, not even another mage. Had the battle ended so quickly?

Suddenly, something struck her back with such tremendous force that she was flung forward onto the grass. She slid about a meter and rolled over, groaning in pain. Her whole body tingled, and when she opened her eyes she saw faint glowing spirals circling around her.

The second thing she noticed was the tall, blue-faced man standing over her, a mixture of confusion and anger in his dark eyes.

Three figures appeared simultaneously in the middle of Merletoph's living room. Dimentio, crouching in between two inert bodies, observed the old man's back without making a sound.

Merletoph was tinkering with some gears on a counter near the table Mimi had been on earlier that morning. Dimentio reckoned the girl was still in bed. All the better. He needed to speak to the sage privately.

But therein lied the problem; he had no idea what to say. In any other situation, conversation flowed from the boy's mouth as smooth as a river running down a hill, but now… This was different.

Should he start by introducing himself? He recalled the conversation between Merletoph and Blumiere. One comment in particular surfaced in his mind.

"Their marriage was a foolish one. To unite a member of the Ancients and a Mage of Darkness… It is a good thing they did not bear children, for such a child would be endlessly tortured by the forces of light and dark, forever susceptible to corruption from either side."

Merletoph considered his own daughter a fool for marrying a member of the Tribe of Darkness. Dimentio couldn't imagine what he'd think of him.

So starting with an introduction was out of the question. That would come… later. Perhaps, then…?

At that moment, Merletoph turned around and, startled, stared directly at Dimentio.

"Ah, hello." On the spot now, Dimentio allowed himself to say whatever came to mind, as he usually did. "How fortunate of me to come by your house. Perhaps you could assist me?"

Merletoph stepped closer to the magician, his eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but only a gasp escaped as his gaze shifted from Dimentio to the boy on the floor. "Ronan?!" Again he stared at Dimentio. "What happened?!"

"They got caught up in the war," Dimentio did his best impression of a sympathetic tone, although he was sure it would be lost through the static smile of his mask. "Those monsters have begun to involve the women and children, too."

Merletoph wasted no time in checking Ronan's wounds. Then he stood and examined Kathleen as well. "Now who is she..?" he wondered aloud.

Dimentio didn't answer, partially because he didn't know either, and partially because he knew the question would be directed at him next if he said anything.

"And who are you, boy?"

"I am Dimentio," he replied, pursing his lips together beneath his mask. He chose to omit the rest of his scripted introduction and leave it at that.

"Sit down, Dimentio," Merletoph commanded. Not expecting such a forceful request, Dimentio immediately hopped over Kathleen and onto the couch, pushing away the rebellious comments that were sitting on his tongue. He would have to behave if he wanted information out of this old man.

"I will do what I can to heal these people, but while I do that, I would like you to answer some questions for me."

Dimentio now found himself in a position he hadn't predicted. He'd recited numerous conversations in his head in order to prepare himself for his encounter with his grandfather, but in all of them he'd been the one initiating the questions.

"You are a member of the Tribe of Darkness, I presume?"

"No." Dimentio's answer was quick and firm. Despite living near them all of his life, he did not consider himself a part of the Tribe.

Merletoph had removed Ronan's shirt so he could access the wound and was casting a glowing spell onto it with his hand. Dimentio watched intently as the boy's skin cells turned from black to tan one by one, slowly mending the damage the dark magic had done. The young magician put his hands behind his back and leaned on them.

"Where did you obtain your magic?" was Merletoph's next question.

"I was born with it."

"Who were your parents?"

Dimentio bit his tongue. It was too soon to tell the truth. He hadn't gotten what he wanted yet. And he was beginning to think that Merletoph might turn him away as soon as he figured out who he really was.

"Both of my parents were magicians, and they decided they didn't want me. So they sent me away to a different world, aha ha."

"Why don't you take off that mask of yours, boy?"

Dimentio instinctively pressed himself further into the couch, but before he could say anything, he felt something brush against his foot. The woman at his feet had rolled over, and all at once she began to moan loudly. Now that she was on her back, her damaged arm was in full view, and a wound on her stomach similar to Ronan's was revealed.

"Gracious stars above!" Merletoph uttered, momentarily leaving Ronan's side. As he began to remove Kathleen's dress, Dimentio averted his eyes and watched as the significantly smaller wound on Ronan's chest started to expand again. He closed his hands into fists behind his back and wondered if he'd have the heart to heal that boy if it were in his power to do so. He did not reach a conclusion.

Dimentio did not respond to Merletoph's question and so, barring the pained cries of the woman on the floor, they sat in silence while the sage worked. The magician's eyes did not wander from the ever-expanding abrasion over Ronan's heart. An idea struck him.

Levitating over Merletoph and Kathleen, he crouched beside the orange-haired boy and placed his fingers near the wound. He could feel the heat radiating from it, but he could also sense the darkness pulsing from the bits of magic that were left behind. That magic was what was causing the fiery affliction to spread, and the same magic was inside of him, too. He could feel something within him calling out to connect to the dark spell on Ronan's body, and as the foreign boy's heart pounded beneath his fingertips, the beating of Dimentio's own heart roared in his ears.

Before he knew what was happening, a bolt of pain shot up his arm and into his chest. The force of the pain was so great that he toppled over backwards, gritting his teeth to hold back a cry of agony. Clutching at the space over his heart, Dimentio forced himself to get back up.

"What did you just do?!"

He ignored Merletoph's incredulous inquiry and returned to Ronan's side. Just as he'd suspected, the dark magic had now completely left the boy's wound. It had stopped spreading, and the ruptured skin had begun to ooze red and white instead of black. An odd sensation rose inside of him, pushing through his pain. A real smile appeared behind his mask.

Merletoph still eyed him with suspicion, disregarding the fact that Dimentio had just healed the orange-haired boy.

"You are from the Tribe of Darkness, aren't you?"

"No."

Merletoph narrowed his eyes. "Take off your mask then, boy, and let us see."

"Shouldn't you heal that girl first?" Buying for time, Dimentio laced his tone with concern.

The sage nodded without hesitation, but he took ahold of Dimentio's arm and pulled him to Kathleen's side. "Why don't you help me, Dimentio? Take care of the wound on her stomach, and I'll see what I can do about her arm."

Getting the impression that he didn't have a choice in the matter, he shrugged his shoulders and focused on the small abrasion, careful to keep his eyes from wandering. Just like the previous wound, Dimentio could feel the darkness inside of it tugging at him, and it didn't take him long to absorb this darkness, too. This time his stomach was afflicted with pain, and as he doubled over and grunted, he felt a hand on his back.

"Well done, Dimentio."

He twisted his neck so he could look up at Merletoph from his position. "What?"

"I said, 'well done.' You did good work, Dimentio. I am pleasantly surprised."

Dimentio did not respond. He had no idea how to respond to something like that. Well done? What did that even mean? Merletoph was 'pleasantly surprised'? What was he expecting out of him?

And then, while Dimentio was too stunned to object, Merletoph removed the mask from his face.

Immediately, the magician sprang back, covering his face with his hands. "Give that back!" he cried, his voice muffled.

Merletoph stood, mask in hand, and approached the now levitating boy. The glimpse of Dimentio's face he'd seen was enough to tell him the truth. With gentle hands he took hold of his gloved wrists and guided them away from his face, finding it easy to overpower the young boy. He was met with a heterochromatic glare and a harsh frown that was so unlike the mask tucked under Merletoph's arm. Long, dark brown hair poked out from underneath the motley hat and fell onto pale white skin.

"You're Sha'i's son." Merletoph whispered. A smile grew on his face. "And look at you. You look so much like her."

"I am an abomination," Dimentio recited. "I look nothing like her."

The sage moved one of his hands to the side of Dimentio's face, causing him to shy away. "You have the same light in your eyes, the same beautiful hair."

"That's not true! She left because she cou— she couldn't bear—" his face twitched with the strain of holding back his emotions.

Merletoph's countenance fell. "She left? She's not with you?"

"Of course not. She was afraid of me, after all. A-aha." And then Dimentio realized what Merletoph meant by his words. "Then...you don't know where she is, either..."

"She left about seven years ago with your father… at least, that's what she said."

At last he'd reached the conclusion. The answer to the question he'd intended to ask all along. And it was the answer he'd dreaded the most.

Merletoph had no new information about his mother. In fact, he knew less than Dimentio did. He'd prepared for this revelation, but the suddenness of it took the boy off guard. He closed his eyes, longing for the safety of his mask to cover his emotions.

"My father never left," Dimentio whispered. "Mother left by herself. She must have lied to you."

"Sha'i is wandering through dimensions…Alone…" Merletoph muttered.

"And she's not coming back because she never wants to see her monster of a son again. Ahaha. She was glad to be rid of me."

Merletoph laughed softly and Dimentio opened his eyes slightly to stare at him. "My dear boy, I can say without a doubt that, if your mother were to see you again, she would be very proud of you."

Proud…

Dimentio closed his eyes again and shook his head. "Why?"

"Because you haven't lost to the darkness yet. There is still time for you to decide."

His yellow eye opened inquisitively. "Decide what?"

"Your path. Darkness or Light. Because of your lineage, both forces fight against each other, hoping to claim you. If you wanted to, you could banish the darkness inside of you and turn to a path of light, like your mother. Or, you could stay on your current path and walk in darkness like your father. It is your decision alone." He freed Dimentio from his grasp and the boy hovered backwards a few centimeters, staring down at the ground.

What a ridiculous notion, Dimentio thought, that I could be anything but a child of Darkness like my father, especially if I'll never be able to find my mother. He shook his head but said nothing, and tried to keep his face as emotionless as he could.

"Of course, you don't have to decide now, Dimentio." Merletoph offered the magician his mask. He eagerly took it and refastened it to his hat, grateful for the protection it offered. Now shadowed by an ever-present grin, his eyebrows arched and a frown trembled on his lips, harboring the cries of sorrow that sat in his aching stomach.

"However, I would like it if you stayed a little longer. I may need more help healing these two."

Dimentio wasn't expecting the warm hand that grasped his shoulder.

"And, I would like to get to know my grandson."