Chapter 14 - Mask
Sora was not unfamiliar with the feeling of sinking, of being pulled downward through some aquatic gravity- but the sheer strangeness of this environment was something he found unsettling. One moment he was walking, another flying, and all the while he couldn't help but think he was dreaming. His friends were nowhere to be found, even while a darkened, shattered landscape flying by.
He wondered if he would ever be able to truly describe the strangeness of the sensation. His skin tingled, though the severity of it always shifted back and forth, from feeling lightheaded and giddy to the point where he was screaming over the needles stuck in his body. He flew through the deepest Darkness, passed through the brightest Light. He could hear fragmented bits of music, shattered screams, broken laughter and whispered secrets of all varieties.
It was as though he were experiencing all the gathered memories of Memoria at once, all of the disordered, chaotic remembrances as far back as before time itself.
Sora's sneakers crunched into a pile of rubble. He looked down at the broken pieces of what seemed to have been a great castle at one time. Everything around him was barren. He felt immensely cold, deep within, but on the outside he could feel a burning heat pounding on him from the dying sun above. The light around himself was dying itself, casting only a dim blue glow which fought helplessly to peek through the thick cloud cover above him. Nothing was green, everything was dead.
The Keyblade Master realized he was walking in a world that had been hollowed out, forgotten. In-between. Between Light and Darkness, between being remembered and being lost in oblivion, a place that couldn't possibly exist, but did anyway. He saw reflected in this a marred image of the worlds he had seen, shattered wreckage which made the place out to look like a warzone. This was a crippled realm, one that was on the brink of no longer existing, one that was doomed, could not be brought back.
How he knew this, he didn't know, but he felt it within himself. He continued to walk forward, though he was already flying- at least, he thought he was. He was split in three; the watcher, the sleeper, the dreamer. All three consciousnesses gave him the experiences he was feeling, while never in any one order; sometimes, he felt his consciousness working backwards.
Sora could not help but feel he was on the brink of some sanity-shattering discovery, but either could not figure it out, or could not put the pieces together- or he did not want to.
In an instant, he felt himself propelled forward, his body carrying him swiftly along the ground. He felt panicked. He sailed through the air, reaching immense speed, unfathomable speed, so fast he began to leave behind who he was, and in the instant where he knew he had already broken the boundaries of physical laws, he felt something rush past him, filling him with an intense feeling of dread. The mass moved past him, the sheer power of it enveloping, felt it take grasp on his heart-
Sora shot forward in his bed, gasping. His blue eyes were wide and panicked, his body was damp with sweat, as though he had been doing nothing but flailing for the entire night. Was it just a dream? It was, right? Taking deeper, calmer breaths, he laid back in bed, his heart pounding. Sweet relief swept over him, and he smiled, glad that whatever it was he had dreamed about was not real.
He stared up at the ceiling and at the various little devices he had hanging from the ceiling. He was home. The solemn happiness he felt, right then, was astonishing. He felt as if he had always wanted to be here, for the longest time, and now his wish was being realized. He could not, for the life of him, put his finger on why. Sora allowed himself to enjoy that moment, in the dark before the sunrise of the new day.
He stood and looked out the window, smiling from ear to ear (in his boxers though he was). He watched as the sun peeked over the horizon, spilling its youthful rays across the sea. That strange feeling of appreciation for so small a thing moved over him again.
Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, stretching his arms into the air and yawning, he looked around his room. The same exact way he had left it... since when? Last night? Why did he feel as though he had not been here in forever?
"Sora, breakfast!" called a light, feminine voice from down the hall.
The boy lifted himself off of the bed and walked over to the closet, wondering what he should wear. It was the middle of summer. He retrieved a pair of brown khaki shorts and a white t-shirt. Throwing them on quickly and tucking his necklace underneath the shirt (a morning ritual; it always ended up coming up out of his collar through the course of the day) and opened his door. He walked out into the hall.
Sora's house was rather spacious for a single mother and her one child, but it was something Sora recognized and enjoyed. He had friends over often, and when he, Riku, and Kairi were done playing on the childrens' island, they would usually come back to either Sora or Riku's house for lemonade or some other cool drink.
If one was to walk into the front door of the house, which you would get to by a beautiful and roundabout little path through the tropical flora, the first thing one would see would be the large front room, the living room/den. There were a couple of sofas and a recliner (the recliner was off-limits to anybody but Sora's mom), not all of which faced the TV. Sora actually watched very little TV, spending more time outside than in.
The round living room had three exits. One to the front door, one revolving glass door leading to the kitchen, and to the left, via a short wooden stairway, was the hall. Down the hall was the bathroom, Sora's room, a guest room, and the master bedroom, where his mom slept.
The boy worked his way through the living room and into the kitchen, where he stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't move. He couldn't will himself to scream.
The kitchen wasn't the kitchen anymore. It was a broken-down, decrepit old ruin, archaic grease splotches and soot stained into the walls. A strange, jerking creature, a white creature, spasmed in place, turning to look at the boy.
"Sora? Are you okay, honey?" came his mother's voice from far away.
He blinked.
His mother looked concerned.
"Oh... I'm alright. I think I just got up too fast," replied the young man, who plodded his way toward the kitchen table. He slid into one of the wooden chairs.
"You have to watch out for that, baby," cooed his mother, who slid a bowl of crunchy granola cereal, with some apple slices, in front of him. "You'll give yourself a headache."
Sora smiled faintly, looking at the cereal, asking himself what had happened. Had that even been real?
"What are you going to do today? Gonna go find Riku and Kairi? Oh, I have something for Riku's mom, I'd like you to deliver it for me," stated Mom, sitting down in front of Sora with her own bowl of cereal. Then she frowned. Sora was one of few people who she considered to be a morning person. He had never acted so strange before. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Mom. I'm just-" He thought of a quick excuse. "Riku said we should build a raft. I'm wondering how we should do it."
"I'm sure you three will think of something," supported Mom, finishing her granola and making her way to the kitchen. "Hurry and eat, honey, you're burning daylight!"
With an almost imperceptible nod, Sora began to eat. He wasn't exactly hungry, but he didn't feel as though he couldn't eat, either. Still each bite seemed unfulfilling, almost as if he never felt it land in his stomach. Finishing the bowl of cereal, and drinking the milk from the bowl as was his usual, he carried his dish to the kitchen and swiped up the apple slices on the way out of the kitchen.
He was putting his sandals on at the front door when his mother approached, grinning.
"I thought you'd forget. I need this to get to Riku's mom," said Sora's mother, approaching and handing over a small cardboard box filled with who-knows-what. "Have fun!"
Sora closed the door behind him and walked down the landscaped path with the package in hand. The boy's thoughts rested on what he had seen earlier. Maybe he had gotten up too fast. He stopped halfway down and looked closely at everything, reached out and felt at a squat palm tree to make sure it felt real. It did. Shaking his head, he finished his trip down the path.
The sandals made contact with white sand, and Sora took a deep breath, a sudden appreciation for the smell of the ocean coming over him. It was beautiful here. Everything was so simple, so clean. He headed for the beach itself, feeling the sandals sink into the cool, wet sand, smiling from ear to ear. Certainly he had to have imagined whatever it was he thought he saw.
Already, some people were on the beach relaxing, but the grown-ups did have to work, so seeing one on the beach not working on a work day was a rarity. Sora decided to stop over at Riku's house to make the delivery.
Riku's house was a little simpler affair than Sora's, but it was also larger, and very well-decorated. Sora was not usually there very often. Riku often had relatives over, and even had a baby sister, who had not even made it out of the cradle yet. The brown-haired boy got the feeling that Riku did not like being at home, busy as it was.
The platinum blonde's abode also lacked the landscaping of Sora's house, but at this point he was glad he didn't have to spend much time going along a walkway. He stepped up to the door and was about to knock when he heard a very familiar voice from the second story.
"Riku, wait up!"
The sound of thumping down the stairs was muffled against the door, and Sora pulled his hand back in surprise as Riku threw the door open. The fifteen-year-old stopped still, eyeing Sora as though he had seen a ghost, and then was rocked forward as he was slammed into from behind. Riku bowled over Sora and a third body bowled over the two. Sora fell straight back over the steps and 'oomph'ed as his back hit the ground. Looking straight up, if Sora hadn't had the wind knocked out of him by the fall, he would have cried out in surprise.
He was looking at himself. A carbon copy of himself.
Riku was on his feet in an instant, looking on in disbelief. Two Soras? One was more than enough.
"Whoa," uttered the Sora on top, who hastily clambered off of the brown-haired boy. Sora stood up, dusting himself off, looking himself over.
Something was tugging at the back of Sora's mind, a familiar feeling of some radical revelation waiting just beyond one thought, teasing him, dancing just outside his paradigm.
"...this can't be real!" cried the 'real' Sora, turning to run away, to run toward the childrens' island where he felt it might be familiar, might be safe. He was almost at the dock...
His foot slammed down into the dirt, but the dirt had changed to a strange blue shade, reflected light of a crippled sun. The ocean was black, deep, unforgiving, alien. All about him, he could see strange, black, rock-like formations, as if they may have once been alive. Everything was unnatural, large boulders rising up out of the ground. Where three children had been playing there were now three white, spasming forms, flicking left and right.
One more pump of the legs and everything was normal again. The sun was young, bright, alive, the beach was beautiful, the trees were not ashen and dead...
Sora looked over his shoulder. Riku and Sora were still standing beside one another, shaking their heads, still unable to believe. The brown-haired boy scrambled into one of the boats and paddled to the other island was quickly as he could.
The boy's small boat pulled up next to the dock, and he didn't bother tying it. His mind was reeling. He was suffering double vision, once of a world dark and hollow, another of the bright beach landscape. He stumbled forward, dizzy, and fell off the top of the dock, landing face-first in the sand. Coughing, he gripped the ground, waiting for the sensation of nausea to pass by. Then it all came back to him.
He was Sora. The Keyblade Master. He was in Memoria, or at least, he thought it was. It had to have been. The dark world he was seeing had to be Memoria. But the visions of his home were so real. The sun and the sand warmed him, the smell of the sea surrounded him, the crash of the waves and the distant echo of seagulls, the taste of the open air, everything was so real.
He rolled onto his back and shielded his eyes from the sun. Was that the real Riku he had seen, the real Riku that, perhaps, had not realized where he was yet? Where was Dyne? And what about Lilka? The questions harried him as he sat up, propped back on his hands.
If he was the real Sora, then what was the other boy? Would everybody have a double in this place? Why was he here, specifically? The similarities between this place and Castle Oblivion were disturbing. Sora stood, slowly, sighed, and made his way toward the Secret Place.
If, he reasoned, the dark world behind everything is Memoria, then the white creatures must be Nobodies. Are the Nobodies fake people? Or... are they reflections of people that already exist?
If they're reflections, then maybe Kairi is here, as well.
His heart fluttered, and then sank. It wouldn't be the real Kairi. He couldn't stay here with her, could not take her with him, could not keep his promise. Now was not the time. He would have to figure his way out of Memoria.
Pushing aside the branches which opened the way into Sora's secret cave, he crawled through the mouth of it, surprised he still fit exactly the way he did before he had left. He got to his feet, and then paused. He looked at his hands, at himself as best he could. He was a year younger. His body had shifted, as though he had never left.
He continued down the tunnel, dodging the gnarly roots which poked out of the cave walls before entering into the larger chamber, within which was a sandy floor, rocks protruding from the ground, and stone-carved drawings everywhere.
But there was no door.
His eyes widening, not wanting to believe it, he stepped down the wall, feeling it with his hands, making sure it couldn't be real- but he couldn't deny the fact. But, maybe...
Sora closed his eyes, recalling what the shadow behind this facade looked like, what it was that he really wanted to see. From that point on, he told himself, he wouldn't be lured by the mask of Memoria. He would see things as they really were, and get them all out of there.
When he opened his eyes again, the light source in the cave had changed completely. The light shining in through the roof wasn't light anymore. He squinted and stepped away from the wall. There was a door this time, but it was broken, a large piece out of the middle of it missing. He walked forward, squinting against the light that was coming through the hole in the door, where the keyhole would have been. Squatting down, he looked through the opening.
There was still a dead sun shedding light beyond the door, but it was being reflected by what seemed to be a wall of mirrors, perfectly symmetrical but how high it was Sora couldn't tell. The ground was still barren, the sky a dusky hue, but it was the cleanness and perfection of the mirror wall that caught his attention. It was untouched.
Sora grasped the edges of the hole and tugged. It didn't open. He tugged even harder. It still was not opening. With a grunt and all his bodily power he tried to pry the door open, but failed, his hands slipping off of the edges and sending him flying onto his back, Sora having lost his balance. He was also given a painful reminder as to why he wore gloves all the time; he had a large splinter in the palm of his left glove.
Groaning, he began to pick himself up, but found more than his own strength lifting him up. He whipped around to find Sora staring straight at himself, in a flash of the false Destiny Islands, but when the mask faded and the real Memoria revealed itself, so did his copy.
Dyne was looking at him straight in the eyes. Sora couldn't tell whether he was elated, angry, or disappointed. Either way, Dyne's attire had changed very conspicuously; he was now wearing the Unknown's cloak, gloves, everything, save that his hood was down.
"Now it makes sense," commented Sora, smiling oddly. He understood. Memoria must have sensed Dyne as having been Sora, and so the both of them counted as Soras in this place. It was strange, to be sure, but at least he had one less mystery to worry about.
"Glad to see you made it," muttered the blonde-haired kid, walking along the now-stony floor of the cave, toward the door with the hole in it.
"You don't sound too happy about it."
"Oh, I'm just ecstatic," commented Dyne, observing the hole. "So you can see the real Memoria too, huh?"
"Yeah. Something very bad must have happened here... this used to be the World of Light, wasn't that what Mickey said?"
"I think there's a lot that Mickey didn't tell us, but I don't think it matters now anyway."
There was a long period of silence.
"Dyne, is the Riku you saw the real Riku?"
"Yeah," responded the blonde-haired kid, moving away from the door and then proceeding to examine the drawings that were on the rocks. It was very strange; Dyne expected the carvings to have disappeared with the mask. The drawings were just different on these rocks.
"Does he know he's in Memoria?"
"Nope," said Dyne, who was then running his hands along a carving of several hooded figures facing one person. Frowning, he stood and walked to the cave wall, continuing to observe.
"You didn't tell him!"
"Why should I? I think he deserves a little resting time. Besides, until I figured out what was really going on-"
"You wouldn't have told me, either, would you?" growled Sora, interrupting Dyne. The black-clad boy turned away from the drawings, and his gaze narrowed at Sora.
"What are you trying to say?"
The Keyblade Master's eyes burned angrily at the other boy. His hand instinctively went to take hold of the Kingdom Key, calling it to his side.
It didn't come.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. Keyblades don't make it here. I don't know what's going on, but my keyblades-"
"They're my keyblades!"
"-won't come to me."
Sora folded his arms, not sure whether to feel happy or frustrated. He was weaponless, but Dyne couldn't have the Oblivion or Oathkeeper, either. He began to step out toward the exit.
"I haven't seen Lilka, either," mentioned Dyne as Sora was leaving. The Keybearer paused.
"...if we ended up on Destiny Islands, then she probably ended up back at Fargaia. Don't you think?"
Sora was clearly nonplussed. However... hadn't the entire point of her coming been to find a way back to Fargaia?
"Could be," replied Dyne, going back to the cave etchings.
With an exasperated sigh, Sora left. First step would be to try to make Riku see that he was in Memoria, and then, he supposed, he would have to find the missing keyhole to that door. It was like it had been blown out, or blasted in, like something had forced itself through it and the door hadn't been able to take the pressure. The condition of the door and the sting in his hand reminded him of what he would actually do first: get the damned splinter out of his glove.
Sora walked to the dock, through Memoria, looking past the deceptive facade into the reality of it, and he almost felt like crying in sympathy for this place. It may have, long ago, been a happy place, a place full of Light, but no more. There was no mercy here. Perhaps it would simply be better to believe what Memoria wanted him to believe...
He came to where he had left the boat. The dock was in shambles, of course, and the boat was in much worse shape than the image gave him, but he figured he wasn't going to find a better boat, so he climbed in anyway.
As the little dinghy floated its way to the other island, a horrifying thought struck him. The island was infested with Nobodies, and he was completely unarmed. Could they tell that he knew what was wrong? Would they attack him? The Mom-Nobody hadn't attacked him. He'd have to play it by ear, and he knew he couldn't be too cautious.
Having landed, Sora found it very, very hard to keep walking, to keep seeing past the mask. The thought of his home in this condition made him sick to the stomach, a painful reminder to how far from home he was, how far from...
...his mom? No, there was somebody very important to him there. He had a keyblade, to remind him... right?
He stopped in the middle of the dead beach and frowned, thinking hard. He felt vaguely worried, scared, that he was leaving something very important behind him. It wasn't Riku, it was... he couldn't grasp it. He ran through his list of important females, and came up with one name:
Lilka.
He had to find her.
But Riku would come first.
Sora walked up the steps toward Riku's house, taking a deep breath. The house was just as broken-down and decrepit as everything else here, amongst the withered palm trees and dying flora. He knocked on the half-rotten door, waiting then for a few moments. He heard the distant echo of somebody's voice, though who it was and what was being said was indecipherable, but he heard Riku's voice cry 'Coming!' immediately after.
The platinum blonde opened the door, and Sora grinned, happy to see some form of color in that dark place. Both he and Riku stood out like colored oranges in a black-and-white film. Riku was looking at him oddly.
"You look really happy," commented Riku. "What'd you do this time?"
"Nothing, just glad to see you!"
"Uh, right. You sure you're okay?" questioned Riku, looking somewhat amused.
"Yeah."
"So, what the heck happened earlier? I thought I was seeing double. That was really weird."
"I've been meaning to talk to you about that. Why don't you come with me to the island?"
"If you insist. Gimme a sec," replied Riku, who then turned and called into the house. "Mom! I'll clean my room in a minute, I need to talk to Sora!"
Immediately after, Sora sensed that same haunting noise, like a voice coming from underwater. Riku nodded, and jogged down the steps with ease. Sora followed, and the two began moving down the beach, Riku quiet, waiting for Sora to say something.
"Riku, about this morning..."
"Yeah?"
"You want to get off of this island, right?"
"You do too, don't you? That's why we're building the raft."
Sora stopped, a pain rushing through his gut, a sudden, unexplained cold feeling. He recognized it as regret, but he couldn't recall why. He turned to Riku, and was about to speak, when he heard a splash and a scream coming from beyond the beach. The shock caused him to lose his focus, and all at once the beach was bright and sunny and warm again.
Out in the waters, a girl was struggling to swim. Sora immediately vaulted toward the water's edge and splashed into the ocean, swimming to the rescue. Managing to reach the girl in record time, he called to her, swimming in place, ready to keep her afloat.
"Don't struggle, take my hand!"
The girl burbled and splashed upward, latching her hand on Sora's, he face rising above the surface. Sora blinked.
It was Lilka.
The brown-haired boy made his way, Lilka in tow, to land, and helped her to land. She flopped into the ground, heaving, exhausted. Sora, unaffected by the swim, braced himself on his knees to look at her.
"You look like a drowned rat," smiled Sora, grinning.
"Do not!" squealed Lilka, sputtering and trying to get up. Riku extended a hand to help her up. Taking it, she clambered to her feet.
"No tact at all. Really. What's your name?" queried Riku of Lilka. Sora felt like something was wrong, but the bright sun and the pretty ocean and everything around him was just so distracting...
Lilka eyed the platinum blonde, frowning.
"You don't remember me? I'm Lilka."
Riku paused, looking her over. She did look familiar.
"Where do you live, Lilka?" questioned Sora, noting Riku's interest in her. Competition would, most definitely, ensue.
"...Fargaia. I think I told all of this to you guys before. What happened? Aren't we in-"
"Fargaia? You mean, you're not from Destiny Islands?" said Riku, surprised, suddenly much more interested. "I've never heard of that place before."
"...Destiny... Islands? You mean this place? No, I'm not from here. And what are you guys doing living in a place like this?"
"You say that like it's a bad place to live," Sora said, shaking his head. "Bright sun, pretty beach. It's home."
Lilka was silent. She was seeing what was behind the image, but she was also under the impression that these two were obviously very delusional. Or there was something very wrong going on. The surprise she felt inside triggered a little voice within to tell her to be very careful, to figure things out.
"I guess so. So... you two live here, right?"
"Yup!"
"Sora, I need to get back to the chores at my house. Why don't you get Lilka cleaned up and stuff, we'll meet back later at the island."
The Keybearer was taken aback. Had Riku just admitted defeat or something? No way. There was something in Riku's face that gave Sora the impression that the arrival of Lilka had shell-shocked him. The older boy took off toward his house, and Lilka was left alone with Sora.
"...okay, then. Let's get you into some dry clothes."