Chapter 8 - Gallery

Kydran woke up. He did not open his eyes yet, but instead observed with his other senses everything around him. The warm sunlight coming in through the window. The sound of Sora's rhythmic breathing. The sound of a seagull outside. His eyes opened.

I've died and gone to heaven, he thought vaguely, and observed Sora. What a bed-hog. The brown-haired kid had consumed almost all of the bed, which hadn't really bothered Kydran, who had slept in the fetal position, curled up at the end of the bed. But it wouldn't make it easy to get out of the bed without waking the Sora up.

Oh well.

Kydran kicked his feet out, hard. Sora yelped, startled out of his slumber, and fell out of the bed. Kydran leapt from the bed and over to the doorway before Sora realized what hit him.

He turned and leaned casually against the door. Sora looked about, wildly, and spotted the smelly, sooty, but well-rested, young man. Kydran had dug some clothes out of Sora's closet, and was wearing a pair of denim shorts and a white t-shirt. While the boy's face was still gray with ash and he reeked of steel and coal, the clean clothes helped a lot.

"It's about time you got up. We need to find some food, and I don't even know where the kitchen is. We might starve."

Sora rubbed his head, having bumped it on the way down. He stood, and groaned.

"I had a dream that this giant foot came down and kicked me. My butt hurts, too..."

"Sorry to hear that. Hurry up, I'm starving, and we have a lot of ground to cover."

Kydran was surprised to find that Sora's hair was untouched. No bed-head, but Sora's chosen hairstyle had struck him as looking like a constant bed-head.

Sora got to his feet, brushed himself off, and headed toward the door. Kydran stepped aside, and Sora pressed on. Kydran followed behind. Back through the shack-esque hallway they went, stepping into the darkness which became the antechamber.

Sora immediately moved left, toward the pair of doors in the middle of the balcony. Everything seemed nicely symmetrical in this vast room; a hallway to the left and to the right of the middle doors, larger doors below the door on the upper floor in the balcony. This did not bother Kydran, but it had occurred to him. There was a definite duality to this place, and he found it strangely comforting.

The bed-headed boy pushed open the twin doors, and entered into a large hall. A dining hall.

It was more like a cathedral than a hall. Gleaming suits of armor lined the way up and down the hall, stained-glass windows highlighted the golden room. In the middle of this immense dining hall was a long table, at which countless chairs were placed. At the table-head closest to them, and at the seat next to it, sat two huge plates of pancakes.

"Well, that was convenient," commented Kydran as he entered the hall.

It took Sora about a split-second to go from Kydran's side and into the tall-backed chair at the head of the table. He immediately proceeded to munch. Kydran followed behind, though under much more control, and slid into the only other seat with food upon it. He chowed as well.

After Sora had finished his first plate and was gathering more onto the already-syrupy dish, he initiated conversation.

"Kydran... it's like we're kings here. Really, if you think about it. I don't think there's anyone else here! It's like this place was made for us!"

Kydran forked another pancake into his mouth.

"We haven't even begun to explore the castle. I wouldn't make any assumptions yet."

"Aw, come on! The door opens right up. We have a great room and a huge bed. Now we even got pancakes! What more could you ask for?"

"...I'd ask for my memory back, for one."

At these words, Sora put his fork down and stared at his plate. Had he forgotten? How could he? What had he forgotten?

"Yeah. Our memories..."

"That's what worries me. Not so much finding somebody else here, but the fact that neither of us can recall anything before this place. It seems fishy to me."

"You're right. I feel like I should remember something. Anything. But I can't. It was like being born again here. I can't even remember my mom's name."

"I had a hard enough time remembering my own name. I say when we finish breakfast, assuming it's not laced with arsenic or anything, we explore as much of the castle as we can. I want some answers already."

"Okay. Food first, exploring later! I like the sound of that!" stated Sora, who was then digging into his pancakes with much vigor.

Kydran continued to eat, slowly. thoughtfully.

After Sora had polished off three stacks of pancakes, and Kydran his one, the brown-haired boy stood up. Sora rapped on his chest with a fist, and released a belch powerful enough to make Kydran fall out of his seat- which he did.

The black-haired boy picked himself up, using the table as a support, and looked at Sora in disbelief. They looked at each other for a moment, and then burst into peals of laughter. The sound of their laughter, simple and clean, echoed through the dining hall.

The hallways were all immense. It was not like traveling down the corridor to Sora's room, where it was comfortable. These hallways were the kind you could get lost in. They were strikingly gorgeous, most of them created from what seemed to be purest ivory. Alabaster. Blinding white, perfectly clean. Untouched.

The pair had seen neither hide nor hair of any other presence in the castle. They only wandered, like great explorers, through uncharted territory.

Their 'travels' carried them, finally, to what seemed to be close to the center of the castle. They could each make out tired sunlight through the stained glass windows in the hallways. Ahead, a pair of doors stood. Instead of knockers, this gate had large handles- each shaped like a star. Kydran gave Sora an affirmative nod, and then they entered the room.

It was large, though how large yet they did not know. The Gallery, as they would soon refer to it, was a two-story, domed complex, a maze of walls from which paintings or photos or sculptures were hung or framed or encased in. The Gallery was circular, and the walls outside of the entry were all glass, clear and crystalline. Directly ahead of them, if the walls of pictures weren't in the way, they would be able to see Castle Oblivion's gardens.

Sora was awestruck, unable to venture forward, still taking the place in while Kydran moved ahead to examine a few of the pictures.

The first he encountered was a masterful painting of a beach. The sun was setting. A girl, apparently a few years younger than Sora (about nine or ten) stood there, looking out onto the gorgeous orange ocean. Her arms were placed shyly behind her back, a heel turned outward. Her hair, a deep maroon-red, was tousled by the breeze. Kydran could have sworn he felt the breeze, too. He could almost see her hair move, as if on its own. Alive.

Sora was entirely entranced by the beauty of it. He was almost unable to pull himself away. Kydran had not noticed him approach, he was so held by the picture, but managed to pull Sora away from it.

"This is... incredible..." muttered Sora.

"I agree."

The next painting was one of a cave, small and dark cave. The picture faced a wooden doorway, installed in the rock itself, laced with intricate gold etchings surrounding the shape of a keyhole. All along the walls of the cave, on the boulders, on anything that could be used as a writing surface, were stone etchings, drawings scraped there by unpracticed young hands. Kydran moved to the next work of art, a sculpture.

This piece was actually marked; on the base of the black marble, it was titled "Rival". His gaze raised from the base, and he took in the sculpture.

The statue was male; a pair of denim jeans, covered by a pair of balloon pants, tied at the ankles. A skin-tight yellow shirt with black straps, well-muscled arms, a gaze that seemed mystifying and intense, hinting at the enigmas of adulthood in the eyes of a mere child. Of course, Riku would argue that he wasn't a child, if he had been there.

This statue carried in its right hand a gold-and-silver weapon, created of the two precious metals. It was in the shape of a key; a golden hilt, a lapis band about the base of the blade. The blade itself was silver, extending from the base and terminating into a set of teeth with a crown-relief cut out of it.

The Kingdom Key.

Again, Kydran was forced to move Sora along.

The sheer number of different artworks was astounding. Kydran felt he could spend all day on the first floor alone. He probably would.

Pictures of beachscapes, children playing, sunny days. These had an entire section devoted to them. After a long period of examining that part of the gallery, they pressed on, into an area over which hung a sign which read "Change".

Among the first paintings was a depiction of the same beaches he had seen so many times, except this time in a dark storm. Scene after scene, the story played out: the death of the beach-world.

The strangest quality of the pictures was that they were all first-person views. Not eagle's-eye views, no abstract qualities. They were more like photographs, and very realistic ones at that, despite the entrancing nature of the shots.

So many more followed. From section to section, picture to picture to sculpture to sculpture. They were shown serene shots of a warm, inviting, nighttime town. A man wielding a gun-sword hybrid. Black creatures overrunning all things. Seascapes, a gothic nightmare town, an immense and beautiful mechanical castle.

Neither Kydran nor Sora had any idea how much time had passed since they began their adventure into the gallery. When they reached the end of the first section, they had followed the 'story' to scenes of a world which was not really a world, but rather a convergence of all the links between worlds. It was titled "The End of the World".

Sora's arms folded. They had covered almost the entire first floor. Or, at least, four-fifths of it. They had an entire second floor to cover as well, but the sun was growing low in the sky (or so it appeared; was it really a sun?).

"You're following the story too, right, Sora? It's incredible. A big-time adventure."

"I'm following it, but I don't understand it. If this is really a story, who's telling it? Why?"

"I'm sure we'll find out. Maybe on the second floor... but I don't want to go up there today. We have so much exploring to do, and we've spent the entire day looking at pictures," claimed Kydran, sounding somewhat displeased.

"We'll leave the rest of the gallery for tomorrow, then."

The domed gallery had two entrances; the one through which they had entered, and another on the opposite side. It was through the latter that they now exited. The archway was wooden, simple and elegant, paned with clear glass. They entered into a beautiful garden.

What struck Kydran as odd was how snowy and icy it was outside the castle, but here the sun seemed to peek out of the cloud-cover perfectly, smiling upon the lush botanical garden the two of them now traversed.

There were shrubberies pruned into statue-like designs, patches of almost any sort of flower one could imagine, and in the center of the circular courtyard within the gardens was a large fountain. This fountain was of a gold-veined marble, and around the well of it were sculpted various symbols. A strange, three-solid-circle emblem that reminded Sora of a mouse-head. Another a star-shape, another a crown-shape, a heart, a butterfly, a book, a bird-like creature, a rose, and many others. There was an array of key-shaped weapons, standing on end, two-storied, from the center of which spouted the pristine waters.

Kydran was a lot less interested in this garden than Sora.

"Wow. We're in the center of the castle, Kydran. Everything else is around this garden. Man, we still have a lot of ground to cover."

"Sure enough," responded Kydran, who had occupied himself with harassing a caterpillar which had meandered onto the fountain upon which Kydran now sat.

"I say we split up. Meet back at the dining room, maybe, in couple hours."

"I say I don't like that idea."

"Why not? We'll cover a lot of ground! We'll meet back, and-"

"And that's if we know the way back. Not to mention we have no way of telling time," interrupted Kydran, standing. "If we get lost together, at least we can put our heads together. And who knows what else is out there?"

"I think it's a good idea."

"I don't," stated Kydran once again, flatly, folding his arms and shaking his head to reinforce his statement.

Sora glared at the ragged kid. He hadn't even taken a shower yet- the smell of machinery and smog was still thick about him. His hair was still ratty and greasy. Who was he to tell him what was and what wasn't a good idea!

"I'm gonna go explore, and I don't need you to come with me!" exclaimed the Keyblade Master, followed by a swift turn. He walked away.

Now Kydran, who had been calm up to that point, was glaring.

"Fine, be like that. I see how you are. But don't think I'm gonna go looking for you."

Sora was still storming away, back toward the Gallery.

"Good! I will! And I'm not gonna let you use my bed again, either!"

Sora was gone. Kydran was left feeling offended, indignint, and in a way he couldn't quite place, a little hurt. Sora wasn't supposed to act like that; that much Kydran had been able to observe. Then again, it could be just hormonal imbalances.

"I was only trying to help," muttered Kydran, standing, now alone in the Gardens. He wanted, felt the need, to follow Sora, but something tugged at the back of his mind, like the way the wind would tell you not to enter a dark forest. His brow furrowed, and he turned to meander the gardens, and stopped suddenly.

"He left you."

Kydran now found himself faced with a very imposing figure. A dark hood concealed all facial features, even in the bright sunlight in the Gardens, where it was always springtime. A robe, of a heavy black cloth, adorned this obviously male being. The robe was form-fitting on the chest, the sleeves belled out at the ends, the tail of this raincoat-like garb swayed, affected by a non-existent wind. No skin was revealed; even the hands were covered in ebony leather.

The voice was not only one voice, but an amalgamation of many voices that were unfamiliar to the boy, one of which was Sora's.

"Who are you...? What are you doing here? Do you live here?"

The hood was banked toward Kydran, indicating that this man was looking directly at him from behind the shadow.

"I am... a mere shell," responded the being, folding his arms across his chest, observing the emerald-eyed ragamuffin. "And this is not my home."

This enigmatic response had done its work in baffling Kydran, who was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable.

"What is this place?" queried Kydran, hoping perhaps to get some answers.

"Don't you remember? You created it."

This reply caught Kydran off-guard. He created it...? No way. Couldn't be.

"I did? What is its name?"

"I think you know," spoke the other, lowering his arms to his sides, as if to reveal its honesty. "What is your name?"

"I... I can't remember..."

He truly couldn't. Panic was slowly beginning to creep over his heart. He could feel his pulse quicken, as though he realized suddenly that something large was about to come crashing down upon him, that the pillars his sanity was based on were crumbling.

"Then your journey is far from over."

"What journey? Make some sense!" said Kydran, alarmed. He found himself suddenly wishing he had followed Sora, or that Sora had not run off. Regardless, he wanted that kid by his side.

"I can help you. I can help you remember. Help you to find your name once more..."

"My name's Kydran! I know who I am!"

"No. You don't."

Kydran could not argue with this. If he was Sora, perhaps, he could believe this fact away, will it away, will it under and force it to disappear, but he could not. Whether it was because of his maturity or his lack of willpower it was impossible to tell, but he was disarmed of his will to fight.

The being extended a hand. He recognized this stance from somewhere... the picture! Of that boy, the 'Rival', as he was being swallowed by black, on the beach!

The boy felt torn; he felt the overwhelming panic, the need to find Sora, to find some solidity, to find some kind of fact that he could bite into. But was Sora even real? Was this place real? Was he dreaming? But he was being offered help, an anchor, a way.

He took the enigmatic man's hand.

Sora was exploring. Like he said he would. Kydran couldn't tell him what to do.

You know, he was only trying to help, Sora, came that little voice from the back of his head. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, and glared up at the ceiling.

"Oh yeah? If he really thought it was such a good idea, he'd have come with me!"

Or he was letting you win.

"Fine with me, either way."

Why are you so mad? Really?

Ah, he had asked the right question of himself. He couldn't really lie to himself; no, that wouldn't make any sense. He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ivory-covered floor.

"'Cuz I wanna remember."

He had done a well enough job of keeping his emotions in check. It was a sure sign of his growing maturity; while he was still an open person, he realized sometimes it wasn't such a good idea to wear your mind on your sleeve all the time. But he had overdone it, and bottled emotions never sat well with Sora.

The boy wished he could recall something, anything, from before. Before this Castle, before Kydran, before everything became a black fog. A dark fog.

The Light, in the Dark.

He sighed. He decided go and apologize to Kydran, who had really done nothing wrong except smell like a smog factory. He turned and headed back to the gallery, and then stopped in his tracks.

The walls of the castle had rumbled. As if something had shaken it at the foundations.

He quickened his pace.