Chapter 10 - Revelation
Everything came crashing down so quickly. In the span of a day, the relationship the boys had built would be tested via trial by fire. So many things would be revealed, the very Fates themselves would be defied, and it all began with oatmeal.
Kydran shielded his face, laughing, having been pelted with a nice, big handful of oatmeal out of Sora's bowl. His brown-haired companion sported a competitive look on his face. With false indignance, and a rather stylish flourish, Kydran scooped out a handful of his own oatmeal and chucked it at the Keyblade Master.
It had started with Sora's comment that Kydran still stank.
"I do not!" Kydran had retorted. "I work very hard to keep myself clean. At least now I know where the shower is."
"Psh, hygiene this!" cried Sora, and the first glob had been hurled.
Now it was an all-out war; soon, the table and the walls were covered in oatmeal, and they hadn't really noticed, but as each ran out of ammunition, another bowl would take the old one's place, nice and hot and grainy.
The both of them were thoroughly soaked by oatmeal by the end of the war. Both Kydran and Sora fell to the tile floor, laughing hard enough to fill the entire dining hall with the sound of it. After regaining control of themselves, they climbed to their feet. Kydran looked to Sora, and Sora looked back. Sora was smiling genuinely; it was the sort of smile that made your inside flutter because you knew that, deep inside, you were important to somebody.
"I say we get cleaned up and hit the gardens. I think I saw a bird there yesterday, and-"
"Cleaned up, yeah, but I want to look at the second floor of the Gallery. We haven't really even gone anywhere new since... that day. It's all been at the beach," responded Kydran, pushing his chair in to the table and heading toward the door. Sora followed shortly behind.
"Sounds alright to me."
"And if we saw that beach in the pictures, and it was real here, maybe the other places are real here, too."
The brown-haired boy was silent, and regarded Kydran silently. He reminded Sora of somebody, recalled more fog, somebody he knew he should remember but couldn't. Even so, Kydran was his only friend in this place. He was happy; he hadn't actually though about getting the memories back. Why would Kydran suddenly bring it back up?
"Alright."
The two left the dining hall, and were unsurprised to find the oatmeal vanished from their bodies. It was the same with the sand at that beach, which filled their shoes and made their socks gritty, but when they climbed had that rock face and returned to the castle through that window, the sand had been gone. Neither of the two had been able to explain it; they had talked about it briefly, but Kydran and Sora had accepted this strange occurrence easily. The Castle itself was fantastical, the beach was not supposed to exist there. Disappearing sand couldn't be too weird.
Through the weaving corridors they went, two friends, for what they would soon believe would be the last time.
Sora entered the Gallery first, followed by Kydran, who surveyed the area closely, for any signs of that robed man, or the person Sora had heard in the dark.
"Alright then, second floor," piped Sora, who found the stairwell and ascended.
"I found you."
Two shadows in an alabaster room. One stood upon a short pedestal, the other stood with folded arms, in a casual stance, facing the other. Their attire was black as pitch, hoods shadowing any facial features, but each could see through the other's cowl, clear as crystal.
The figure with the folded arms did not respond, simply kept his focus on the enigmatic man.
"This is most unexpected," spoke one in a deep, superior voice, his true voice, though a tone of surprise, and a little frustration, was evident within it.
"I'm sure you'll survive. Or maybe you won't... wouldn't that be interesting?" came Kydran's voice from beneath the hood.
"I assure you, I am in no danger."
"I know what you want, and I know what I want. I think we can make a deal. We separate them. You can keep your new... project. I will handle the other boy."
"Handle him? That would be interesting. While he is incomplete, he is not to be underestimated. The power of his will is formidable... even within the perfect prison, he is still a threat."
"I know the story. He's not the Keyblade Master for nothing. Let's get this over with. The sooner the better."
"If you insist."
Sora reached the top of the stairs, and turned, grinning, to call to Kydran. The ebon-haired youth was not there. Sora groaned in frustration, and proceeded into the second floor of the Gallery.
The further he progressed, the more he noticed the light from the glass dome above him fading. The light became dimmer and dimmer; the smell of smog and the sound of steamwork hissing became stronger.
The statues here were few and far between, and the pictures were not in plenty, but they were powerful, strong enough to make his heart ache with pity. Depictions of harsh, polluted, dirty city streets, slums, places so filthy he could not imagine anything except grime living there. But there they were; people, dressed in rags, bunched up, fighting the severe winter cold.
Every scene he came to it was winter. The sky was constantly pitch black; what he would only assume was the sun fought to peek sickly through the smoggy, acidic clouds.
Into the sky, from what seemed to be the center of this city, a spire of bright silver jutted upward, terminating into a large disk-like structure at its top.
He smelled like smog and metal, thought Sora vaguely.
Sora took time to examine the statues. The first he came to was a somewhat tall man, standing proudly upon his ebony pedestal. One fist was placed upon his hip, the other arm dangled loosely at his sides. A confident, lopsided smile was present on his facial features, his hair was a mess, and it added to the carefree air this figure had about it. This man was clad in rags, much like Kydran had been.
"Whoa..."
Sora noticed that the differences in physical appearance between Kydran and this statue were relatively few, the age difference notwithstanding. He looked to the label on it; it read "Betrayer." Sora moved on.
A statue of a girl, seeming to be as confident as the man that came before her. Her arms were folded, her head cocked to the side, a strange, amused smile upon her face. Long hair flowed from her head, and combined with her expensive-looking attire, she was very attractive. Sora gave her another two or three looks, smiled dopily, and read the label. "Lover."
The last statue (how few they were) looked amazingly like both Kydran and the "Betrayer", but this older man appeared...
"...corroded..."
...and hateful, drunken, vile. Even in its marble eyes, Sora could read hatred, anger, hostility. It made him uneasy, especially considering how tall, how huge this man was. His face was gristly, his hair an oily mess, but he did not wear rags, but what seemed to be workman's clothing of some sort.
The label read "God."
Kydran's laughter sounded from behind him. Sora whipped around, frightened out of his reverie, and saw a black blur move from behind one of the statues, darting down the stairs.
"...Kydran? Wait up, I'm not done yet!"
The laughter continued, fading away as the source moved further into the first floor.
"Hold on!" cried Sora, rushing toward the stairs and descending with haste.
"It is time I revealed to you the truth," spoke the enigmatic man, waving an arm grandly and approaching the part of the castle opposite the Gallery. "Too long has it been hidden from you. This is only one of many places. There is so much to show you."
"Great!" grinned Kydran, following the black figure as it disappeared through the gates. Silence came after they passed over the threshold, and Kydran knew the door behind him was long gone. He strained for his eyes to adjust, but there was nothing.
Then the room exploded with light.
Kydran cried out in pain, covering his eyes, and was displeased to find that he could see through them. He removed them from his face, and looked at them. He was no longer corporeal; his body was a latticework of energy, a matrix of glowing power. His entire body was engulfed in a bright azure glow; it seemed his shape, clothes and all, had been transferred into some shimmering polygonal shape.
"There is no real Light in this place. I am showing to you what lies behind the mask of this castle."
Kydran knew the voice was coming from ahead of him, but he could not make out the shape of his instructor. He turned, and looked back toward the castle (or, at least, where the castle should have been). Instead of a wall, instead of a castle, all he saw was an immense, bright light, shaped haphazardly, coursing with azure veins, pulsing softly. He was stunned.
"This is... incredible..."
"This is the world in its true form," responded the enigmatic man from his place in... wherever he was. It was only a voice anymore.
"So then... it's all just an illusion," said Kydran, shaking his head. Everything, this place, was not solid, it was not real.
"There are only the memories," replied the voice.
"The memories?"
"You created this place. The boy, Sora, did, as well."
"No..."
"You know, now. It is there, in front of you, the answer you seek."
"...my memories? Sora's memories, everything from before... here! This place is made of our memories!"
"That is correct," answered the voice, and Kydran's hands went over his eyes again. The story the Gallery told. The beach. Were those his? Were they Sora's ? No, they couldn't be his own...
(one friend without a price-)
...his own would come flooding back soon. He knew it, deep within. This hollowness within himself, the Light that the castle was made up of that should be within himself, replaced by nothing. He knew they were about to come back, just as somebody knows an avalanche is about to come crashing down on his head.
"Sora...I have to find Sora! Take me back, I have to warn him!"
"It is too late. He will realize it, as well. You don't even know your role in this game..."
"He's my friend! A true friend, one that won't betray me, won't leave me, one that can help me!"
"Don't fight it. Let it come, accept it, because without acceptance you will never know yourself."
"Let me out of here!"
"The connection has already been made. So be it..."
The ebon-haired boy no longer knew who he was, for he was washed away by the tide of truth that came crashing down upon him.
Sora burst through the doors, his head whipping left and right as he checked for signs of where that black blur had gone. It had to be Kydran; it was Kydran's voice. It was wearing black. But how did that kid get so fast?
The dining hall stretched out before him, and he took a deep breath. Slowly rising within him was the feeling that this was not Kydran. Some sort of abomination, a wraith, a ghost. Something was terribly wrong, and he felt it in his gut, in his heart. He charged down the hall, and pushed through the doors, onto the balcony which lay within the antechamber. He caught movement in his peripherals, a dark movement down one of the two hallways. This hallway was not the way to the beach; no, this was the one Kydran had been jumpy about, afraid of.
The one that Sora was most curious about.
Despite his curiosity, Sora's uneasiness was growing. There was some kind of secret in the very depths of this castle, something just outside his grasp, something stopping him from realizing the truth. Why he was there. Why Kydran was there. Maybe the corridor held the answer.
He stepped through into a world that was both loud and very polluted. This was not his atmosphere by any stretch of the imagination. He continued forth through the corridor.
In the same way the beach had depicted Sora's home world, this depicted Kydran's very, very well. The smell of smog was thick, and Sora found himself coughing periodically as he pressed on. Cold, bitter cold, passed through the junk-born walls, and through the seams of this ramshackle hallway, he could make out slums, slums and poverty as far as the eye could see.
He reached the end of the hallway, and pushed the door open.
He was assaulted instantly by one of the most terrifying memories he had ever experienced.
Sora was very cold. He wrapped his arms around his legs, placing his head on his knees. His breath was visible. He looked around him. The room was empty. It was his own room. The one window was broken, boarded up. Snow fell softly outside, but he could find no warmth or happiness in the beautiful weather. He felt terrified. He felt hungry. He was freezing.
His blue eyes moved to the doorway, where he thought he had heard something. Deep within him welled a feeling of horror, a feeling that told him not to be where he was because something terrible was going to come through the door.
He heard the front door slam. A man was shouting loudly, angrily, though Sora could not make out the words.
It had to be his father... it could be no other person. He lifted himself to his feet, leaning against the wall, recalling... recalling earlier that day. It had been a life-changing day, and perhaps not for the better.
His own brother. Left him alone. In the snow, cold, alone, no protector, nobody to talk to anymore... except perhaps her, but she was beyond his reach now. Her family, and his, would never allow them to see each other again. Reifa had been so angry, seeing her with that little ragamuffin boy...
He heard the footsteps coming. There was no way to avoid it.
Sora's hand reached up, looped through his collar and his pale digits wrapped around the cold silver pendant. The man in black had given it to him... in the alleys, not long before... he became alone. Perhaps it was all connected? But the pendant could not save him now.
The doorway into the 'room' was suddenly blocked by the form of his father, towering, and the one word came to mind, as it always did: corroded.
Sora wanted to die.
"How does it feel, little boy?" came Kydran's voice from the doorway. Sora picked himself up off his knees. He had, unconsciously, dropped to his knees during the experience. He turned slowly, and faced Kydran's look-alike.
Sora was facing a duplicate of Kydran clad in the Unknowns' raincoat. They appeared exactly the same, except for one difference:
The boy's hair was bright crimson.
Sora gasped sharply and stumbled back.
"You... are yoy Kydran?"
"...you wish. You exist only to destroy him, to destroy us. No more."
"What are you talking about?"
"I can't let you leave this place."
Something was beginning to dawn on Sora.
The pendant.
The figure moved a gloved hand casually through his bright crimson hair... emerald eyes, Kydran's eyes, glared at Sora. Kydran's memories flooded his mind.
My reflection.
"You... it's beginning to come back..."
"Good. Maybe you'll wake up, and I won't feel like a murderer. It will be a fair fight..."
Sora's eyes were distant, glazed over. He wasn't looking at the crimson-haired unknown; he was looking beyond. At the pendant.
My hair, it's black...
"I know who you are, I know your name..."
And red.
"It sure as hell isn't Kydran."
The buzzing filled Sora's ears, manipulated his vision, filled his eyes with images.
He felt very cold.
The boy crept through the dank alleyway, fighting to suppress the ever-present cough that came as a result if living in his fair city. His twin emerald oculars, the only thing about him that could draw attention in his present state, shifted from one end of the alley to another. He was already too far, he had already overstepped his bounds. If he was caught, it would be his hide.
He was in a low crouch, moving steadily along. They had already determined that they were going to meet at the borders of the City; it would be harder for a noble who didn't know the streets to walk in the slums than a slum-rat to get to the middle ground between the slums and the Spire. Besides, he had no wish for her to see that conditions he lived in.
Coming to the edge of the alleyway, the ragamuffin boy glanced left, then right. He was within the network of apartment complexes, filled with people who worked office jobs and in stores and in normal city places. The places where people lived promised to be nearly empty this time of day; in and out, the people in the City performed their duties like clockwork. He had always found it funny. Everything moving like clockwork in Clockwork Town.
Making one more check to be sure the way was safe, had darted across the street and into another alley. The people living here couldn't afford the security cameras that cropped up everywhere nearer the Spire, so he would be fine. The constant hum of the giant cogs and machines that kept the city together, all of which were at the fringe of the 'island' that was their world, the ones that made sure the sun rose every morning and the moon came up every night (even though you could see neither through the cloud of constant smog) never went away, even for somebody in the Spire.
So there he was at the meeting place. He hoped she would come soon. Double-checking his surroundings, he crept forward a little further, past a few empty crates and a large dumpster.
Somebody grabbed his shoulder.
He whipped around, eyes wide in surprise, and glared suddenly. Pandora had covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the laughter.
"Really, you should have seen the look on your face," she giggle. He was entirely nonplussed.
"Look, that's not very nice. I admire your ability to sneak up on me and all, but-"
"Where'd you get that?" she asked, leaning toward him and nodding toward the silver chain around his neck. "Who gave that to you?"
"That's a good question. I don't know who he was."
Pandora stood fully upright and folded her arms. She was no dressed like a noble at all; it was as if she had gone looking for the grungiest little robe she could find, one with a hood that could keep her face out of sight. The boy could only imagine how hard it had to be to get out of the Spire.
"I heard that Kydran and his friend got into a fight with a bunch of thieves while they were out junking," said Pandora, watching as her boyfriend removed the heart-shaped pendant from within his shirt and held it up for her to see. "And I also heard that the thieves regretted it instantly."
"That's because nobody screws with my brother. Not even my dad," grinned the boy, putting the pendant back. His eyes drifted towards his love's neck. He considered her for a moment, and then considered the silver chain that was around her own neck. Her necklace, however, did not have a heart-shaped pendant, but instead had a small silver bauble on the end signifying that she was a noble.
"I brought something to show you," said Pandora. "My aunt Reifa gave it to me. She said it belonged to my mom."
The girl dug around in her sooty, trashy brown robe and produced a gorgeous silver mirror.
"You said you've never gotten a chance to look at yourself, right, Asher?" asked the black-haired girl.
"Yeah. Junkers can barely afford to eat, and I don't know if you've seen the oceans out there-"
"They're oily. I know."
The boy held the mirror delicately, knowing the mirror must be priceless to the girl. Turning the reflective side to himself, he frowned. He saw a ragamuffin boy from the slums, his face covered in soot, his greasy hair black with red streaks.
"You're quite the looker, I'll have you know," commented Pandora, and Asher shook his head, smiling and handing the mirror back to her.
"There's plenty of other homeless people in the slums. Why me?"
"You know, I'm not entirely sure," responded the girl, taking Asher's hand and smiling. His gaze was locked on her soft violet eyes. "But I love you anyway."
They stood in silence for a short while, regarding each other and simply enjoying each others' presence. Finally, Pandora frowned.
"What is it?"
"Just... something that Reifa had said earlier. She was talking as if she knew about you and I being together. It's been bothering me, but I had to see you."
"What are you talk-"
"There she is!" came an older female's voice from the end of the alleyway. The alley became flooded with light, nearly blinding the boy and the girl alike. Reifa was screaming curses now, commanding the men she had gathered to separate them, to get the boy.
"Run!" cried Pandora, though Asher was almost too stunned to react.
As the armored man pulled her away from him, ripped her hand from his grasp, he felt his heart tear in two.
It began to snow.
Sora's eyes narrowed on the red-haired maniac.
"You're Asher, aren't you?"
"No, but close enough. I am his Id."
"This doesn't make sense."
"It makes perfect sense. Where do you think your body is, Sora? Keep track of yourself. The princess's little key. You know what I mean."
"No!"
"When you cut yourself, I think you cut a little too deep. That takes care of you, but myself? He did all the work for me. I owe it all to that good man in black... his powers are immense. He successfully separated heart from body, even if he didn't expect body to follow."
"You're his body!"
Sora would have continued his questioning, but the walls of the castle rumbled, throttled, began to fall apart. The junk the walls of the room were made of began slipping out of place, the roof began to cave in.
"Good... yes, this will be good. A fight, between the Keyblade Master and his destiny..."
"I don't know what you're talking about, but it's time you stopped talking, period. I won't let you hurt him anymore."
The crimson-haired boy smirked. His hair and clothing whipped about as if caught in a sudden gust of wind; there was a burst of dark power. The Id held the Heart Key in its hands.
Sora nearly lost his balance. The ground rumbled violently, and while everything seemed to be crushing down, falling down on the both of them, it did not. The walls were melting away like paint after a splash of turpentine. The floor itself was cracking. Entire boulders floated away from beneath them, and they were left in the Darkness.
Suddenly, the Id's Heart Key was gone.
Behind the Id stood Asher.
In Asher's left hand, the Heart Key rested idly. Beyond Kydran was the enigmatic man.
"Sora... I understand now. You do, too, don't you? We're connected. Beyond friendship," spoke the emerald-eyed young man, distantly.
The Id whipped around, glaring venomously at the black-haired boy.
"You have no business here, you twerp! This is my time!" hissed Id, turning back to Sora. "Now, where were we?"
"No! You aren't a part of me anymore! I never wanted you to be!"
Sora was dumbfounded. Kydran was fighting with himself...? How often had that happened?
This time, the Id turned fully around to confront the black-haired boy, smiling cruelly.
"Perhaps you forgot who it was that carried you through the times you felt you'd kill yourself. Who saved you when Kydran was not around to stop good ol' dad. He left you, and so did she, and I'm here to stop you from ever being hurt again!"
"Sora would never hurt me."
Another black form plowed suddenly into the Id's side; it was a blur before Sora, Asher, and the enigmatic man.
"You're right!" cried this new unknown, triumphantly. The Id was slammed into the 'ground' (there was no ground anymore, only the solidity they all willed to be present), and the attacker landed neatly on the ground not far from any of them.
"What a perfect trap you've created," addressed the newcomer to the enigmatic man. The raincoated one responded by turning that hood in the direction of the young voice. "You've called in the heart, the body, and two things you didn't expect. I know your plan, now. It's not going to happen."
Sora was quiet. The newcomer sounded exactly like himself. He looked to the black-haired boy, shaking his head in disbelief. The Id was not quite so dumbfounded, however. Only enraged. The crimson-haired boy flipped easily back onto his feet and shot a poisonous look at...
Dyne.
I've been to see him. He looks just like you.
Sora felt as though he was looking into his own face, save perhaps for the strange haircut and blonde coloring in the hair. The Keyblade Master scratched the back of his head, completely baffled. What was happening here was beyond his control. Even stranger was the fact that, through these events and through experiencing Asher's memory, his own form had been altered- his clothing had been changed, as Asher's had, and his appearance had changed significantly.
He was still wearing a jumpsuit-and-hoodie-vest combination, but the red jumpsuit was black now. On his shoulders a pair of steel shoulderpads, not unlike Sephiroth's (albeit less intrusive) were strapped down, and a pair of large pouches were strapped to his sides. His sneakers had shrunk in size, fitting a little more accurately, and had shifted to a black, blue, and white mix of colors. He looked at his gloves, which had shifted to black, as well.
"This is nothing. The Darkness is eternal, as will be the Light. The Eight will continue for eternity, and there is nothing that can be done to stop it. I can assure you. With these words, I will take my leave of you. Enjoy your stay in the Darkness."
The enigmatic man was then gone. No flash, no lightning, no burst of dark haze- simply vanished, as the world would when one blinked.
"Sora... let me take care of this. I can destroy them both, you won't be in danger anymore..."
"Danger?"
"Don't you understand yet? Look at them! They only want to destroy you, it's their purpose."
"That's not true!" shouted the wielder of the Heart Key angrily. "No! I would never hurt Sora!"
Dyne whipped his gaze to meet the boy's eyes, his own oculars narrowing.
"Yes, you would. Whether you like it or not, you would. Open your eyes, accept the truth."
The Id was through with talking. Asher launched forward, knowing the next moments would be crucial. Id rushed Dyne, to which the dual wielder responded with just that- dual wielding. The Oathkeeper and Oblivion found their way into his hands, and both the Id and Dyne disappeared into the Darkness, the noise of clashing steel echoing in the void.
"We don't have much time, Sora. Id will destroy him, I'm sure of it. Destroy his memories, or take them, like he did to me. The Darkness within him is too strong to overcome."
"What are you talking about!"
"The man in black didn't take my memories to build the castle, like he did yours. He took all of the Id's memories... my Id. And the Id had taken every memory from me, even the memory of my own name... so he was built into the castle itself. That's how he got to you, in the room. But everything's breaking down now, because of our connection!"
"Make sense, come on!" cried Sora, though it was futile. It made perfect sense. He already knew the truth; it was no longer hidden from him. The connection was strong, indeed, more powerful than he had thought originally. And he knew what the connection was. Tears began to well in his eyes; the other boy's cheeks were already wet.
"Sora, the weapon in my hand can stop this. Stop the pain, at least for a little while. But when you remember everything, you have to remember this: Find Memoria. Find the source of all the memories. The man in black showed me everything, showed me the true source of all things. Of the Light and of the Darkness, and where you can find the Door."
"...please, Asher, no!" Sora tried to protest, but shook his head. He knew there was no choice, knew what their connection was and what would happen, ultimately. Why? Why did he had to make these choices? Why did he have to be the Keyblade Master? "I can't take this burden. I don't want to be the Keyblade Master anymore!"
"You don't have a choice, Sora! I don't have a choice, either! This world is about to go up in Darkness, so get your head on straight!"
Sora's mind raced. He understood. Nobody would survive if he forgot the things he knew, and his future choices would depend on what he knew. He had to keep the memories safe.
Sora took a shuddering breath and spread his arms out to his sides.
"Sora..."
The weapon was thrust into Sora's chest. The Heart Key, capable of unlocking hearts, was this time used to lock it. Lock away the memories of Castle Oblivion. Lock away everything he knew, lock away everything from reading that letter to the terrible realization of that the black-haired boy really represented.
"Be strong."