-Yorda-
By Julie Danskin
Chapter 9 - Stumble -
Ico walked numbly, staggering backwards and forwards, he couldn't say which. Thinking of Yorda, wondering if she had been stolen, or whether she had run away. But she had said she would stay with him! Nothing was making sense to Ico, he wasn't sure if he wanted everything to be clear to the young boy. It was like she was dead, like he had seen her being turned to stone by her mother again. He had let her go again.
Why, Yorda? I love you.
Maybe she had had good reason to leave him in the cave alone, perhaps she had been very scared of the bats in the morning and run very fast. Despite her new strength, Yorda tired easily, he knew, she would not get far. He would keep looking for her, keep calling for her. She would come to him. If she had been taken he would rescue her from a thousand cages. He would give his life if he could just touch her delicate face again, feel her smooth cheeks and her small attractive nose. If he could watch her flick her eyelids down and up as she watched him one more time, he would be eternally content. He urged himself to believe he was being hasty, that she was probably hiding somewhere near.
He called for her again, and waited, his ears straining as hard as they could.
Please, Yorda.
After a few agonising minutes waiting, Ico gave up completely, and slumped down against a tree.
"Oh Yorda, what have you done to me?" he said aloud, "How can I live without you? How can you survive without me?"
Maybe she had been using him all along! Maybe.
No. He couldn't think of Yorda like that. Not his Yorda. His Princess.
Come back to me, my one. Come back.
Ico picked himself up defiantly, not sure what to do. He did know Yorda would not want him to mourn her absence. Not when there was so much life had to offer him. Nothing seemed like it was attainable without her, but he would go on for her sake.
For Yorda, wherever she was.
* * * * *
Yorda was shaken awake, and she rolled over reluctantly onto her side, tumbling off the horse's back. The strap had been removed while she was sleeping, and her sudden movement caused her to topple off. Her eyes opened with a shot when she realised she was descending, and saw the huge equine creature take a step backwards. Its hoof would crush surely crush her frail frame. It was too late to do anything, yet she reached her arms up instinctively, and while exhaling she yelped. She closed her eyes, waiting for the impact.
Strong arms held her, and her fate that had seemed inevitable two seconds ago seemed like an overreaction. Her brother had caught her in his arms, his reflexes quick and ready. Her intense eyes settled on his for a long while, unbelieving that he was the one that had shown her Mariya, the one that had taken Ico from her, the one that had just saved her life. His eyes were a darker violet than hers, and suited his masculinity, even if he was only fourteen. Though they were darker, they portrayed the identical coldness in her mother's misty eyes which made the spine shudder. Keoden's arms tightened around her figure securely.
"You alright?" he muttered, not affected by her weight, not that Yorda was heavy as she had a very slender figure and an airy presence that made her even look feather-like. She looked down from his eyes, not wanting to see the concern he showed her. He had taken her away from Ico, and that she could not forgive, even if he had saved her life, for she had no life without Ico.
"Yes," she replied blankly, leaving no room for emotion, though feelings flooded her painfully. He sensed her intense discomfort, and set her down on the ground gently. She wobbled around on her feet for a while, but gained her balance again, cast him a scowl and went to stroke the horse that had nearly killed her.
"Are you sure you want to-"Keoden began, and his older yet weaker sister shot him a disapproving glare and he relented, moving to take the reins off the horse.
"Shhh, good boy," Yorda soothed, stroking the huge stallion's long face affectionately. She could see Keoden was watching her from the corner of his eye, obviously confused and wondering why she wasn't frightened of the creature that had nearly destroyed her life.
"Yorda?" he asked her, after a moment of watching her. She regarded him with her eyes, and nodded.
"Yes?" she asked quietly, not stopping the rhythm of stroking along the horse's muzzle.
"Why aren't you frightened of the horse? Do you want to die?" he asked her. She stopped stroking and bowed her head. When the animal flipped its nose under her arm, she began stroking again. At first, Keoden was sure she wasn't going to answer.
"No. I don't want to die. I did, just after I fell, but not now," she replied quietly, and returned her focus to the horse. Keoden wasn't finished just yet.
"Why did you want to die?" he pushed her, and she scowled, feeling forced. She shook her head.
"Chienyae," she whispered, "No."
"Why?" Keoden urged, pushing, pushing, pushing. Yorda's head, filled with grief and loss felt fit to explode. Why did he want to know so much?
"Chienyae!" she repeated, using her language to say "no" over and over.
Suddenly, Keoden stormed over to her and grabbed her slim shoulders. His fingers dug deep into them, squeezing the blood from the area. She looked up at him angrily, struggling against his strong grip.
"Get off!" Yorda cried, feeling weak once more.
"Not until you tell me why you wanted to die!" Keoden's grip dug ever deeper, scaring her.
"Why do you want to know?" hissed Yorda, her voice coarse and wretched with sobs, "Why do you need to know?"
"Because you are my sister, and I care about you. Even if -" Keoden faltered, evidently starting to say something he was supposed to keep secret.
"Even if what?" Yorda asked.
"I couldn't do it. Not now. I meant to, but when I saw you-"
"Did you kill him?" Yorda shrieked hysterically, and shook herself free, staring into Keoden's eyes, terrified. She had vowed to find Ico. What if there was only a body to be found? What if.
"Who?"
"Ico! Did you kill Ico, Keoden?"
"No. Now Yorda, calm down. I did not kill the boy - Ico. I did not kill him. Do you hear me? Alright?"
Yorda lowered her eyes, relieved yet saddened. He would think she had run away.
"Now, Yorda," Keoden said softly, softly. He sat her down on the grassy bank, and for the first time she took in her surroundings. They were in a courtyard where the stables were, and the horse was being tethered by a human. A human. A long time had passed since she had seen a human that she had not known nor felt she was going to know. She was dreaming again, and Keoden shook her, "Yorda. Why did you want to die?"
"What is this place?" she asked, paying no heed to his question, though she heard it.
"Answer my question and I'll tell you," he urged her, as if she were a child.
"Only if you tell me what the "even if" was." she bargained, a spark flashing in her eye. Keoden wanted to know the Yorda with the mischievous mark in her eye, so nodded slightly.
"Alright," Yorda began slowly, still looking at the stable keeper as he groomed the horse with even strokes. She tore her eyes away. She had promised Keoden. "I wanted to die, I - I wanted to die because.because I have no life without Ico. My boy." She looked up at him, stared at him in the eye.
He only blinked in reply.
"You have a new life to begin, Yorda," he said quietly, and she shook her head and bowed it, her mousy brown hair falling over her face. He took the crook of his index finger and looked her in the eye. "Yes. A young child does not control your life. That is all he is. A child. He doesn't care for you, Yorda. Not like the people through the gates of this courtyard do, anyway."
"Who are the people beyond the gates?" Yorda asked suspiciously, eyeing the gates cautiously, watching the wooden grooves where previous battling rams had failed to conquer the large door.
"Beyond these gates are the villagers of Ara P'way. They have waited three years for you, Yorda. Ever since I came here when I was a child. You see, once I was sent here, the Spirits flew off without a word. I was dropped off in this courtyard, and I was lost. I was calling for you, and people came to me and asked why I was calling for the princess. I said that I was her brother and had been taken away and you were being hurt by demons. They were sad and took me inside the gates where I was shown everything. They had a painting of you as a child in every house, every building. Finally they led me up to a huge castle at the end of the village and up a hill. They said I would live here and that you would come. I grew up being praised because I was your brother." Keoden told her. He hadn't finished his story, but he was taking a break so she could take it all in. He was obviously remembering it as he went along because Yorda saw a smile creep onto his face every so often.
She watched his clam, intense face intently.
"What's the even if?" she asked him faintly.
"I saw the castle sink into the sea from my castle, and I somehow knew you had made it, you had survived. I wished you would be dead." He bowed his head and swallowed a lump in his throat. Yorda looked at him, stunned.
"Why?" she gasped, afraid.
"Don't be frightened. I won't hurt you. I wanted you to be dead so I could be worshipped instead of you, so people would pray for my health and safety at night. Even though these people had never seen you, they knew you, Yorda. They call you the Princess of Light and Shadow. When I sensed you, I wanted to find you and kill you. I loved you when I left the tower, when the Spirits took me away three years ago. I screamed it all the way. But when I grew up knowing I would be second to you I was afraid and jealous. I came out to find you on Zafer, my horse. I came out to find you and kill you. But when I saw you, you were afraid and you asked me the question, the question I tried to tell you the answer to before it was too late. I had my sword in hand, I had seen you go into the cave, waited till I was sure you were asleep. You weren't, and you made me remember why I loved you and I couldn't kill you." Keoden finished, and lay his head on the grass.
Yorda's hands clenched the soft green blades shooting up from the earth, puzzled and confused. Keoden had wanted to kill her?
"So what now?" she asked quietly.
"We go into the village, and we will live happily ever after."
"Can I find Ico? Or find someone to fetch him?"
"No. You know why? Because he is probably already dead."
"What? Why? You did kill him, didn't you? Keoden, you're not much more than a child!"
"And he is? No I didn't kill him, I told you. Believe me, Yorda. But.the Spitits have not gone. He angered them, and now that you are safe, they will get to you in any way they can. And that will be through hurting him, by making him believe you are dead, and then they will kill him. That will be the last thought he knows. And when he reaches the Other Place, he will not find you, and his ghost will fade."
Yorda gasped, and turned back outside to run and find him. Keoden caught her and she pushed, kicked and struggled, but Keoden was stronger.
"You never know. He may find a village in time. He will be safe in a village. They never cross village walls. That's why they send riders to fetch horned children from the villages they live in. Now come on, there's nothing you can do for him without putting yourself in danger."
"But he-"
"Yorda. He needs you maybe, but so do these people. They need you to be their Princess, and when you marry, their Queen. It's time for you to grow again, Yorda."
She looked at him with a tilted head and watched the gates open at Keoden's signal. He walked her forward, and the people in the streets stopped and stared, open-mouthed.
"People of Ara P'Way," he began, "Your Princess of Light and Shadow has come."
* * * * * * * * * * * Ico staggered along the treacherous peaks, calling for Yorda, following a horse's trail. It ended at a strong river, only a horse indeed could push against, he could not overcome it. He searched for a bridge, a stepping- stone, a calmer patch of water, a place he could jump across. He followed it up, he followed it down, to no avail.
Following the river, he found a signpost, with a strange carving on it. It looked like a person with horns sprouting from their head, and it had a sign saying "REFUGE FOR THE CURSED - FURWHA SANCTUARY". Ico stared at it, and followed the direction the sign pointed in with his keen eyes.
A village, small and secure stood, peaceful and serene. This was the place. This was the place he needed to go to. Yorda was cursed too, she would find it, and she would find him, and they would live happily ever after.
With a large grin on his face, he began to run towards it. It was probably about half a kilometer away. Though he had no time limit, he sprinted quickly, sure he would find his beloved Yorda.
Suddenly, he heard a familiar sound that sickened him to his stomach. He spun round, wide-eyed, and before them his fears became alive.
How could they be alive? The Queen was dead!
Two, three, four, five Spirits emerged from the black hole in the ground. Ico prepared himself for battle, but found no weapon to fight with. He looked around aimlessly and heard the Spirits snigger, something they had never done before.
"How-" Ico cried out, backing away a few steps, too scared to run. He was frightened without Yorda. "How-". He did not expect the demons to answer him. But they did.
"Your beloved Princess and her mother are dead. We are alive because her spirit was stronger than even she knew. We lived on in our multitudes, forced into holes in the ground. Once all you cursed ones are dead, we will rule. Your Princess was our last threat. Now she is gone, you may as well die too," One of them sneered, eyeing the village behind Ico, "We cannot enter villages, but we will kill your dirty friends as we killed your Princess - without an inch of hope. Then, when there are none left, all of us will come crashing down like a torrent".
Ico watched it speak, its jaw did not move, sound simply came out of the hideous creature, which bobbed up and down restlessly, eager for Ico. Tears rolled down the boy's Asian face, his hopes shattering. Yorda was dead? Yorda? No.
No.
"NO! NOT YORDA! You're lying-" Ico stammered carelessly, and watched the Spirits advance on him. He turned on his heels, and ran for his life.
He looked back, nearly there, the Spirits flying above him. His focus on them was slowing down, so he wrenched his hating stare away and sprinted.
"These things had killed Yorda. Why shouldn't I hate them?" he thought bitterly to himself, and began to turn round to fight them, but began running forwards towards the village again after another second of thought, "No. Yorda is alive. I can feel it-"
This knowledge gave him strength, and he hurtled towards the gates. People had seen the Spirits flying at him, and the boy being chased. The gates were opening for him, and he had only a little further to go.
"NO!" Ico thought hopelessly, so near to the village, so close to safety, as the Spirits closed in on him.
"NO!" he cried, "YORDA, I LOVE YOU!"
The demons sniggered, and Ico still ran, but not for much longer. Suddenly, something was sent out of the gates, something white and huge and fast. Someone was upon it, a man with no horns, but still coming.
At the last minute, the man reached Ico and dropped his arm. Ico jumped and caught it by his fingertips. He gained a better grip, still half running, half flying along the ground. The man swung him up onto the horse's bare back; there had not been enough time to saddle it. Ico heard the Spirits hissing in anger, but they didn't give up. One tried to land on the horse's rear, but Ico kicked it back persistently, and it fell.
The horse galloped onwards, fast and furious, but not quite quick enough to gain distance from the defiant Spirits.
"We're not going to make it!" screamed Ico, not sure whether he was telling himself or the man.
Or Yorda.
"Don't worry, we will, " assured the man, presuming he was talking to him, "Cha!" he yelled to the horse, and it galloped forwards, ever nearing the gate, which had now begun to close. The villagers could not afford the Spirits to enter the village.
The man kept his word, and before the gates closed, the horse was through them before Ico was really sure what was happening. The gates were secured, and Ico heard a frantic scream from the other side. He grinned to himself, and hopped shakily off the horse.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Through the excitement of her people by her arrival, Yorda felt wanted and required, everything she had always dreamed of being. She was loved too, by Keoden and all the people that were asking to paint her, to shake their hands, for the permission to kiss her feet. Yorda looked down at her feet, dirty from the days she had been with Ico, wondered why anyone would want to touch them, never mind kiss them!
She shook her head at the woman who had offered kindly. She smiled, and the woman was disappointed she couldn't worship Yorda, but seemed overjoyed to receive her smile. She felt whole and complete, except for one factor she knew was Ico. She would have to learn to live without him. Such a thought scared her, but these people needed her more than Ico did.
* * * * * * * * * * *
"Yorda - where's Yorda? I have to see her, I need to see her! Is she alright? Is she alive?" he demanded off the family that had taken him to their house. They had given him a room, food and drink, but they had not given him Yorda.
"Yorda is the name of the Princess we wait for. The Princess that came from the castle that fell down. Did you know it sank into the sea? About a week ago it was," said the woman.
There was the woman, the man who had rescued him on the horse, and a little girl, about eight years old, who had horns. Small ones still, but they were quite vivid. The woman and man, her parents, he presumed, did not have horns. The man saw him looking at the girl.
"This is Siania. She is the oldest child in the village, which was made three years ago, after the Prince came to a village on the other side of the island. Most people bring their horned children here to wait until the age they must leave. We go to the castle on the other side of the island, where the village is. It is nice there. Maybe you will take Siania. You have broken the curse. We tried to take away hers, but our tactics would not alter it. It happened to you for a reason, boy."
Ico shivered as he remembered being thrown to the ground by Yorda's mother. He had lost one horn then, he couldn't remember what happened to the other one. When he had woken up after killing the Queen, he had awoken on the beach, with stumps for horns.
"I need to see Yorda," began Ico quietly, "I need to know if she is okay."
"Well, it's been said the Prince went out to find her to bring her back. It's more likely he killed her. Why would he let a woman get the attention after all? Over him? Not very likely, is it?" The man said, and saw his wife's angry glance and relented, "Not that a woman shouldn't be in charge, that's not what I'm saying at all-"
He winked at Ico, and held out his hand.
"Name's Raath. This is my wife Kiassa. And of course, Siania. Now, boy, what's your name?" Raath said. Ico shook his hand numbly. What the Spirits said was true. Yorda was dead.
"No - not Yorda. She can't be dead-" Ico mumbled, shaking his head.
Raath looked at his wife and exhaled.
"I'm afraid there's little chance she's alive. Even if the Prince didn't kill her, I'm sure the Spirits did."
Your Princess was our last threat. Now she is gone, you may as well die too-
"NO!" Ico cried, "NO! Not Yorda! I loved her - I saved her and she loved me too, I know. Please, don't let her be dead."
"You have to live on. Come live with us. We could do with another pair of hands. And you can take Siania to the castle when she is twelve years old. Who knows, maybe you will find another girl that takes your fancy." Kiassa told him, giving him a little wink.
"No! No, it wasn't like that! Yorda and me were in love as friends, because we helped each other-" Ico attempted to explain, but all he received was a strange look from Kiassa and Raath. Only Siania looked remotely interested in what Ico had to say about love.
"Friendship is friendship. Love is love. There is no in between or combination between the two. What is seen is given, and before I change my mind, young boy, I suggest you uphold my offer of living with us." Raath told him in a matter-of-fact way, as if because Ico was a child, he did not understand the ways of the world.
He wished Yorda were here to help him explain, or even to put a delicate hand on his shoulder to comfort him. But as she was not present, he gave Raath and his family a small smile and nodded, trying his best to look grateful. The three people before him seemed happy enough with his gesture, and Kiassa wandered off with her child to prepare a bed in Siania's bedroom so Ico could sleep soundly.
It felt strange to be in a house.
He wondered where Yorda was.
"Are you in Heaven, Yorda?" he asked her silently, "Or is your mother tormenting you in a place where there is no escape, with no one to help you? Or are you alive, Yorda? Are you okay?"
As he thought to himself, he felt a little voice in his head and a shiver down his spine, and he strained to heed it, but the loud, booming voice of Raath distracted him, and it was gone.
When he told Siania of it that night tucked warm in bed, she told him that it was his sore heart and that he would have to let the girl go. Ico knew she was right.
Yorda.
Chapter 9 - Stumble -
Ico walked numbly, staggering backwards and forwards, he couldn't say which. Thinking of Yorda, wondering if she had been stolen, or whether she had run away. But she had said she would stay with him! Nothing was making sense to Ico, he wasn't sure if he wanted everything to be clear to the young boy. It was like she was dead, like he had seen her being turned to stone by her mother again. He had let her go again.
Why, Yorda? I love you.
Maybe she had had good reason to leave him in the cave alone, perhaps she had been very scared of the bats in the morning and run very fast. Despite her new strength, Yorda tired easily, he knew, she would not get far. He would keep looking for her, keep calling for her. She would come to him. If she had been taken he would rescue her from a thousand cages. He would give his life if he could just touch her delicate face again, feel her smooth cheeks and her small attractive nose. If he could watch her flick her eyelids down and up as she watched him one more time, he would be eternally content. He urged himself to believe he was being hasty, that she was probably hiding somewhere near.
He called for her again, and waited, his ears straining as hard as they could.
Please, Yorda.
After a few agonising minutes waiting, Ico gave up completely, and slumped down against a tree.
"Oh Yorda, what have you done to me?" he said aloud, "How can I live without you? How can you survive without me?"
Maybe she had been using him all along! Maybe.
No. He couldn't think of Yorda like that. Not his Yorda. His Princess.
Come back to me, my one. Come back.
Ico picked himself up defiantly, not sure what to do. He did know Yorda would not want him to mourn her absence. Not when there was so much life had to offer him. Nothing seemed like it was attainable without her, but he would go on for her sake.
For Yorda, wherever she was.
* * * * *
Yorda was shaken awake, and she rolled over reluctantly onto her side, tumbling off the horse's back. The strap had been removed while she was sleeping, and her sudden movement caused her to topple off. Her eyes opened with a shot when she realised she was descending, and saw the huge equine creature take a step backwards. Its hoof would crush surely crush her frail frame. It was too late to do anything, yet she reached her arms up instinctively, and while exhaling she yelped. She closed her eyes, waiting for the impact.
Strong arms held her, and her fate that had seemed inevitable two seconds ago seemed like an overreaction. Her brother had caught her in his arms, his reflexes quick and ready. Her intense eyes settled on his for a long while, unbelieving that he was the one that had shown her Mariya, the one that had taken Ico from her, the one that had just saved her life. His eyes were a darker violet than hers, and suited his masculinity, even if he was only fourteen. Though they were darker, they portrayed the identical coldness in her mother's misty eyes which made the spine shudder. Keoden's arms tightened around her figure securely.
"You alright?" he muttered, not affected by her weight, not that Yorda was heavy as she had a very slender figure and an airy presence that made her even look feather-like. She looked down from his eyes, not wanting to see the concern he showed her. He had taken her away from Ico, and that she could not forgive, even if he had saved her life, for she had no life without Ico.
"Yes," she replied blankly, leaving no room for emotion, though feelings flooded her painfully. He sensed her intense discomfort, and set her down on the ground gently. She wobbled around on her feet for a while, but gained her balance again, cast him a scowl and went to stroke the horse that had nearly killed her.
"Are you sure you want to-"Keoden began, and his older yet weaker sister shot him a disapproving glare and he relented, moving to take the reins off the horse.
"Shhh, good boy," Yorda soothed, stroking the huge stallion's long face affectionately. She could see Keoden was watching her from the corner of his eye, obviously confused and wondering why she wasn't frightened of the creature that had nearly destroyed her life.
"Yorda?" he asked her, after a moment of watching her. She regarded him with her eyes, and nodded.
"Yes?" she asked quietly, not stopping the rhythm of stroking along the horse's muzzle.
"Why aren't you frightened of the horse? Do you want to die?" he asked her. She stopped stroking and bowed her head. When the animal flipped its nose under her arm, she began stroking again. At first, Keoden was sure she wasn't going to answer.
"No. I don't want to die. I did, just after I fell, but not now," she replied quietly, and returned her focus to the horse. Keoden wasn't finished just yet.
"Why did you want to die?" he pushed her, and she scowled, feeling forced. She shook her head.
"Chienyae," she whispered, "No."
"Why?" Keoden urged, pushing, pushing, pushing. Yorda's head, filled with grief and loss felt fit to explode. Why did he want to know so much?
"Chienyae!" she repeated, using her language to say "no" over and over.
Suddenly, Keoden stormed over to her and grabbed her slim shoulders. His fingers dug deep into them, squeezing the blood from the area. She looked up at him angrily, struggling against his strong grip.
"Get off!" Yorda cried, feeling weak once more.
"Not until you tell me why you wanted to die!" Keoden's grip dug ever deeper, scaring her.
"Why do you want to know?" hissed Yorda, her voice coarse and wretched with sobs, "Why do you need to know?"
"Because you are my sister, and I care about you. Even if -" Keoden faltered, evidently starting to say something he was supposed to keep secret.
"Even if what?" Yorda asked.
"I couldn't do it. Not now. I meant to, but when I saw you-"
"Did you kill him?" Yorda shrieked hysterically, and shook herself free, staring into Keoden's eyes, terrified. She had vowed to find Ico. What if there was only a body to be found? What if.
"Who?"
"Ico! Did you kill Ico, Keoden?"
"No. Now Yorda, calm down. I did not kill the boy - Ico. I did not kill him. Do you hear me? Alright?"
Yorda lowered her eyes, relieved yet saddened. He would think she had run away.
"Now, Yorda," Keoden said softly, softly. He sat her down on the grassy bank, and for the first time she took in her surroundings. They were in a courtyard where the stables were, and the horse was being tethered by a human. A human. A long time had passed since she had seen a human that she had not known nor felt she was going to know. She was dreaming again, and Keoden shook her, "Yorda. Why did you want to die?"
"What is this place?" she asked, paying no heed to his question, though she heard it.
"Answer my question and I'll tell you," he urged her, as if she were a child.
"Only if you tell me what the "even if" was." she bargained, a spark flashing in her eye. Keoden wanted to know the Yorda with the mischievous mark in her eye, so nodded slightly.
"Alright," Yorda began slowly, still looking at the stable keeper as he groomed the horse with even strokes. She tore her eyes away. She had promised Keoden. "I wanted to die, I - I wanted to die because.because I have no life without Ico. My boy." She looked up at him, stared at him in the eye.
He only blinked in reply.
"You have a new life to begin, Yorda," he said quietly, and she shook her head and bowed it, her mousy brown hair falling over her face. He took the crook of his index finger and looked her in the eye. "Yes. A young child does not control your life. That is all he is. A child. He doesn't care for you, Yorda. Not like the people through the gates of this courtyard do, anyway."
"Who are the people beyond the gates?" Yorda asked suspiciously, eyeing the gates cautiously, watching the wooden grooves where previous battling rams had failed to conquer the large door.
"Beyond these gates are the villagers of Ara P'way. They have waited three years for you, Yorda. Ever since I came here when I was a child. You see, once I was sent here, the Spirits flew off without a word. I was dropped off in this courtyard, and I was lost. I was calling for you, and people came to me and asked why I was calling for the princess. I said that I was her brother and had been taken away and you were being hurt by demons. They were sad and took me inside the gates where I was shown everything. They had a painting of you as a child in every house, every building. Finally they led me up to a huge castle at the end of the village and up a hill. They said I would live here and that you would come. I grew up being praised because I was your brother." Keoden told her. He hadn't finished his story, but he was taking a break so she could take it all in. He was obviously remembering it as he went along because Yorda saw a smile creep onto his face every so often.
She watched his clam, intense face intently.
"What's the even if?" she asked him faintly.
"I saw the castle sink into the sea from my castle, and I somehow knew you had made it, you had survived. I wished you would be dead." He bowed his head and swallowed a lump in his throat. Yorda looked at him, stunned.
"Why?" she gasped, afraid.
"Don't be frightened. I won't hurt you. I wanted you to be dead so I could be worshipped instead of you, so people would pray for my health and safety at night. Even though these people had never seen you, they knew you, Yorda. They call you the Princess of Light and Shadow. When I sensed you, I wanted to find you and kill you. I loved you when I left the tower, when the Spirits took me away three years ago. I screamed it all the way. But when I grew up knowing I would be second to you I was afraid and jealous. I came out to find you on Zafer, my horse. I came out to find you and kill you. But when I saw you, you were afraid and you asked me the question, the question I tried to tell you the answer to before it was too late. I had my sword in hand, I had seen you go into the cave, waited till I was sure you were asleep. You weren't, and you made me remember why I loved you and I couldn't kill you." Keoden finished, and lay his head on the grass.
Yorda's hands clenched the soft green blades shooting up from the earth, puzzled and confused. Keoden had wanted to kill her?
"So what now?" she asked quietly.
"We go into the village, and we will live happily ever after."
"Can I find Ico? Or find someone to fetch him?"
"No. You know why? Because he is probably already dead."
"What? Why? You did kill him, didn't you? Keoden, you're not much more than a child!"
"And he is? No I didn't kill him, I told you. Believe me, Yorda. But.the Spitits have not gone. He angered them, and now that you are safe, they will get to you in any way they can. And that will be through hurting him, by making him believe you are dead, and then they will kill him. That will be the last thought he knows. And when he reaches the Other Place, he will not find you, and his ghost will fade."
Yorda gasped, and turned back outside to run and find him. Keoden caught her and she pushed, kicked and struggled, but Keoden was stronger.
"You never know. He may find a village in time. He will be safe in a village. They never cross village walls. That's why they send riders to fetch horned children from the villages they live in. Now come on, there's nothing you can do for him without putting yourself in danger."
"But he-"
"Yorda. He needs you maybe, but so do these people. They need you to be their Princess, and when you marry, their Queen. It's time for you to grow again, Yorda."
She looked at him with a tilted head and watched the gates open at Keoden's signal. He walked her forward, and the people in the streets stopped and stared, open-mouthed.
"People of Ara P'Way," he began, "Your Princess of Light and Shadow has come."
* * * * * * * * * * * Ico staggered along the treacherous peaks, calling for Yorda, following a horse's trail. It ended at a strong river, only a horse indeed could push against, he could not overcome it. He searched for a bridge, a stepping- stone, a calmer patch of water, a place he could jump across. He followed it up, he followed it down, to no avail.
Following the river, he found a signpost, with a strange carving on it. It looked like a person with horns sprouting from their head, and it had a sign saying "REFUGE FOR THE CURSED - FURWHA SANCTUARY". Ico stared at it, and followed the direction the sign pointed in with his keen eyes.
A village, small and secure stood, peaceful and serene. This was the place. This was the place he needed to go to. Yorda was cursed too, she would find it, and she would find him, and they would live happily ever after.
With a large grin on his face, he began to run towards it. It was probably about half a kilometer away. Though he had no time limit, he sprinted quickly, sure he would find his beloved Yorda.
Suddenly, he heard a familiar sound that sickened him to his stomach. He spun round, wide-eyed, and before them his fears became alive.
How could they be alive? The Queen was dead!
Two, three, four, five Spirits emerged from the black hole in the ground. Ico prepared himself for battle, but found no weapon to fight with. He looked around aimlessly and heard the Spirits snigger, something they had never done before.
"How-" Ico cried out, backing away a few steps, too scared to run. He was frightened without Yorda. "How-". He did not expect the demons to answer him. But they did.
"Your beloved Princess and her mother are dead. We are alive because her spirit was stronger than even she knew. We lived on in our multitudes, forced into holes in the ground. Once all you cursed ones are dead, we will rule. Your Princess was our last threat. Now she is gone, you may as well die too," One of them sneered, eyeing the village behind Ico, "We cannot enter villages, but we will kill your dirty friends as we killed your Princess - without an inch of hope. Then, when there are none left, all of us will come crashing down like a torrent".
Ico watched it speak, its jaw did not move, sound simply came out of the hideous creature, which bobbed up and down restlessly, eager for Ico. Tears rolled down the boy's Asian face, his hopes shattering. Yorda was dead? Yorda? No.
No.
"NO! NOT YORDA! You're lying-" Ico stammered carelessly, and watched the Spirits advance on him. He turned on his heels, and ran for his life.
He looked back, nearly there, the Spirits flying above him. His focus on them was slowing down, so he wrenched his hating stare away and sprinted.
"These things had killed Yorda. Why shouldn't I hate them?" he thought bitterly to himself, and began to turn round to fight them, but began running forwards towards the village again after another second of thought, "No. Yorda is alive. I can feel it-"
This knowledge gave him strength, and he hurtled towards the gates. People had seen the Spirits flying at him, and the boy being chased. The gates were opening for him, and he had only a little further to go.
"NO!" Ico thought hopelessly, so near to the village, so close to safety, as the Spirits closed in on him.
"NO!" he cried, "YORDA, I LOVE YOU!"
The demons sniggered, and Ico still ran, but not for much longer. Suddenly, something was sent out of the gates, something white and huge and fast. Someone was upon it, a man with no horns, but still coming.
At the last minute, the man reached Ico and dropped his arm. Ico jumped and caught it by his fingertips. He gained a better grip, still half running, half flying along the ground. The man swung him up onto the horse's bare back; there had not been enough time to saddle it. Ico heard the Spirits hissing in anger, but they didn't give up. One tried to land on the horse's rear, but Ico kicked it back persistently, and it fell.
The horse galloped onwards, fast and furious, but not quite quick enough to gain distance from the defiant Spirits.
"We're not going to make it!" screamed Ico, not sure whether he was telling himself or the man.
Or Yorda.
"Don't worry, we will, " assured the man, presuming he was talking to him, "Cha!" he yelled to the horse, and it galloped forwards, ever nearing the gate, which had now begun to close. The villagers could not afford the Spirits to enter the village.
The man kept his word, and before the gates closed, the horse was through them before Ico was really sure what was happening. The gates were secured, and Ico heard a frantic scream from the other side. He grinned to himself, and hopped shakily off the horse.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Through the excitement of her people by her arrival, Yorda felt wanted and required, everything she had always dreamed of being. She was loved too, by Keoden and all the people that were asking to paint her, to shake their hands, for the permission to kiss her feet. Yorda looked down at her feet, dirty from the days she had been with Ico, wondered why anyone would want to touch them, never mind kiss them!
She shook her head at the woman who had offered kindly. She smiled, and the woman was disappointed she couldn't worship Yorda, but seemed overjoyed to receive her smile. She felt whole and complete, except for one factor she knew was Ico. She would have to learn to live without him. Such a thought scared her, but these people needed her more than Ico did.
* * * * * * * * * * *
"Yorda - where's Yorda? I have to see her, I need to see her! Is she alright? Is she alive?" he demanded off the family that had taken him to their house. They had given him a room, food and drink, but they had not given him Yorda.
"Yorda is the name of the Princess we wait for. The Princess that came from the castle that fell down. Did you know it sank into the sea? About a week ago it was," said the woman.
There was the woman, the man who had rescued him on the horse, and a little girl, about eight years old, who had horns. Small ones still, but they were quite vivid. The woman and man, her parents, he presumed, did not have horns. The man saw him looking at the girl.
"This is Siania. She is the oldest child in the village, which was made three years ago, after the Prince came to a village on the other side of the island. Most people bring their horned children here to wait until the age they must leave. We go to the castle on the other side of the island, where the village is. It is nice there. Maybe you will take Siania. You have broken the curse. We tried to take away hers, but our tactics would not alter it. It happened to you for a reason, boy."
Ico shivered as he remembered being thrown to the ground by Yorda's mother. He had lost one horn then, he couldn't remember what happened to the other one. When he had woken up after killing the Queen, he had awoken on the beach, with stumps for horns.
"I need to see Yorda," began Ico quietly, "I need to know if she is okay."
"Well, it's been said the Prince went out to find her to bring her back. It's more likely he killed her. Why would he let a woman get the attention after all? Over him? Not very likely, is it?" The man said, and saw his wife's angry glance and relented, "Not that a woman shouldn't be in charge, that's not what I'm saying at all-"
He winked at Ico, and held out his hand.
"Name's Raath. This is my wife Kiassa. And of course, Siania. Now, boy, what's your name?" Raath said. Ico shook his hand numbly. What the Spirits said was true. Yorda was dead.
"No - not Yorda. She can't be dead-" Ico mumbled, shaking his head.
Raath looked at his wife and exhaled.
"I'm afraid there's little chance she's alive. Even if the Prince didn't kill her, I'm sure the Spirits did."
Your Princess was our last threat. Now she is gone, you may as well die too-
"NO!" Ico cried, "NO! Not Yorda! I loved her - I saved her and she loved me too, I know. Please, don't let her be dead."
"You have to live on. Come live with us. We could do with another pair of hands. And you can take Siania to the castle when she is twelve years old. Who knows, maybe you will find another girl that takes your fancy." Kiassa told him, giving him a little wink.
"No! No, it wasn't like that! Yorda and me were in love as friends, because we helped each other-" Ico attempted to explain, but all he received was a strange look from Kiassa and Raath. Only Siania looked remotely interested in what Ico had to say about love.
"Friendship is friendship. Love is love. There is no in between or combination between the two. What is seen is given, and before I change my mind, young boy, I suggest you uphold my offer of living with us." Raath told him in a matter-of-fact way, as if because Ico was a child, he did not understand the ways of the world.
He wished Yorda were here to help him explain, or even to put a delicate hand on his shoulder to comfort him. But as she was not present, he gave Raath and his family a small smile and nodded, trying his best to look grateful. The three people before him seemed happy enough with his gesture, and Kiassa wandered off with her child to prepare a bed in Siania's bedroom so Ico could sleep soundly.
It felt strange to be in a house.
He wondered where Yorda was.
"Are you in Heaven, Yorda?" he asked her silently, "Or is your mother tormenting you in a place where there is no escape, with no one to help you? Or are you alive, Yorda? Are you okay?"
As he thought to himself, he felt a little voice in his head and a shiver down his spine, and he strained to heed it, but the loud, booming voice of Raath distracted him, and it was gone.
When he told Siania of it that night tucked warm in bed, she told him that it was his sore heart and that he would have to let the girl go. Ico knew she was right.
Yorda.