I do not own Dragon Quest VIII or any of its characters.

Mending A Heart

"I am Ishmahri, keeper of the Moonshadow Lands," the elven man introduced himself, strumming his harp.

He wore a flowing, white robe with a beautifully decorated, blue cloth wrapped around his torso and over his left shoulder. He had long, straight, midnight-blue hair combed backward and hanging behind him with the hair from the sides of his head hanging in front of his shoulders. A circlet adorned his head with a small, teardrop jewel hanging from it in the front.

His harp was shaped into a crescent moon, with the top of it extended upward for a handhold, then curling into a spiraled ball. The harp's body was largely white, except for along the outside of the body's curve and a jewel set into the center of the spiral at the top end of the harp.

"Welcome to my realm," Ishmahri continued.

The inside of his home was sparsely decorated, bearing only a raised, circular platform upon which Ishmari stood, with the only furniture being a music stand with an open book. There were no chairs, nor any other kind of furniture, anywhere in the room, and no sign of food. The only other decorations were a line of miniature, enchanted instruments playing soft music from a shelf along the wall to either side of the room, and a small altar-like stone pedestal on the far side of the room where a large, gold ring was set into a pair of curved arms so that it could slowly flip over the pedestal, a white-blue sphere hovering in the center of it, revolving slowly. Kane ignored all of this, walking up onto the platform with Ishmahri, the others following after him.

"Is this real?" Jessica asked. "Or am I dreaming? I feel like I'm in a fairytale! This is so amazing!"

"In a way, we are," Kane said. "The Moonshadow Land is the subject of a fairytale. A magical land where elves live."

"Technically, that is true," Ishmahri smiled, his soft, kind voice melodic. "However, I am the sole resident of this realm." He smiled. "Many moons have waxed and waned since human foot last trod this earth. Weary travelers, I welcome you now to the Land of the Moonshadow. Enlighten me, what desire opened the Moonshadow window on this night?" He raised a hand as Marik opened his mouth to answer. "No word. Your shoes can tell the tale." He strummed his harp, and a moment later, Marik's shoes glowed, softly. "So, Pavan longs to be reunited with his dearly beloved, Sasha."

Everyone stared at him in shock.

"You stand amazed, mouths agape in wonderment," Ishmahri noticed. "Ah, forgive me. I have yet to uncloud your eyes. Children of the light of day...do you believe that memories are yours alone? Your clothes, houses, tables and chairs...the sky, the land...they too remember each passing day. Silently, they sleep in a dream world of memories. The moon's light may give shape to these dreams...these memories. I cannot stir this daughter of the sun from her eternal sleep, but perhaps I can end your friend's waking nightmare. Lead me to the castle. Lead me to the scene of Pavan's misery."

They nodded, and together, they all left the Moonshadow Land.

"So, ordinary things like clothes and houses have memories?" Jessica asked. "They have dreams? Does that explain the vision I had in the Tower of Alexandra?"

"Possibly," Kane mused. "But the eyes of that statue were magic crystals. I think it's more about the statue than the memories of the tower."

Ishmahri strummed his harp, then hummed thoughtfully. "Indeed, your friend is correct. It was the statue that showed you a vision, not the tower's memories." He strummed again, then hummed, looking to Kane. "The memories of your sword and your shield are rather sad. They echo with sympathy, but they endeavor always to lend you their strength and support. You have forgotten your true reason. Somewhere along the way, the lie became truth, and the truth became clouded."

Kane glanced at him, frowning. "No, I remember my choice, and I remember my reason. Please don't intrude into my life."

"Of course," Ishmahri bowed slightly. "My apologies. I meant no offense."

Kane nodded silently, and they made their way down the mountain in silence. Few monsters had survived their passage up the mountain, and what few attacked them, they dealt with easily. After barely a few hours, they'd reached Ascantha and were once again allowed into its castle unchecked.

"These guards don't do much actual guarding," Angelo said. "They didn't even question our weapons."

"They can sense the kindness in your hearts," Ishmahri explained. "They can tell there is no reason to impede you, as you bear no ill will."

They all accepted Ishmahri's apparent insight into the hearts of others, guiding him to the throne room where King Pavan sat before a throne wide enough for two people, weeping into its seat. Ishmahri strummed his harp, and King Pavan raised his head, looking over at them.

"Oh, grieving soul," Ishmahri spoke softly. "May the moon's rays trace the scenes enacted here long ago."

Then, he began to play a soft, beautiful, haunting melody, and a ghostly figure of a woman in a beautiful, yellow dress appeared, laughing softly and twirling as she faded in and out of sight around the room. King Pavan walked toward one, away from the throne, and the woman, Queen Sasha, began to fade in and out of sight in a trail encircling him, all the while bearing an adoring, happy smile. Finally, as he walked forward, one appeared just before him, and he stopped.

"What is this?" King Pavan asked. "A dream? An illusion? No...No...I remember this...you."

Pavan reached out to Sasha, but she vanished before he could reach her.

"...is wrong?" a soft, feminine voice asked from seemingly all around them before another illusionary Sasha appeared behind Pavan. "What is wrong?"

"Sasha!" Pavan gasped, turning around. "I've missed you so! These two years, I've thought of nothing but you. Ever since you passed away..."

Sasha giggled. "You're not still fretting about this morning's missive, are you? You mustn't. You made the right decision." She turned, walking away from Pavan, then stopped, looking back at him. "You're always so lenient with people. But sometimes you need to be firm too. That's a king's duty. Everybody believes in you. You must stand tall and proud. Ascantha is your country." And then, she turned to walk away and vanished. "Oh yes! I have news! The innkeeper's dog has had a puppy! He wants us to think of a name!"

Pavan turned, staring at the throne where an illusionary replica of him, but with his black clothing traded for yellow pants, a green tunic, a crimson cape, and green-and-yellow striped crown, was seated, twisted around to look at Sasha, who was smiling at him while leaning around the throne from behind. "Is that...me? Yes, I remember this. It was the spring before last. So this is a memory from the past?"

The memory of pavan chuckled. "A puppy, you say? What do you think? No doubt you've already thought of a good name for it!"

Sasha stepped around the throne to sit at his side, giggling. "It's a secret."

"Why?" the memory of Pavan asked. "If you've thought of a name, then I'm sure it's splendid. Tell me!"

"Surely you have a suggestion too?" Sasha pressed. "A name for this puppy?"

"But I'm sure yours-" the memory of Pavan stopped as Sasha cupped his face, smiling adoringly.

"Shush now, Pavan," she said gently but sternly. "I think any name you came up with would be simply perfect. My dear king. You're a wise and kind man. You should follow your own instincts." She giggled, smiling. "I was planning to use the name you thought of. That's all I'd decided."

As the two transparent royals faded, Pavan walked slowly to the throne and sat down, resting his face in his hands. "Ah, yes. She was always like that, always giving me so much encouragement." He raised his head to stare at the ceiling, crying once more. "Sasha...why..."

"Sasha, why are you always so strong?" the memory of Pavan asked, reappearing ahead of Pavan, Sasha just ahead of him, facing away.

"Because my mother gives me strength," Sasha responded.

"Your mother?" the memory of Pavan asked. "But she passed away years ago."

Sasha bowed her head, smiling. "I never told you, but I was always very timid as a child, so weak and afraid. And every day, my mother would try hard to encourage me. When she died, I was so sad and lonely...but then I realized...If I went back to my old weak self, I would have nothing left of my mother at all. It would be just as if she had never existed. I realized I had to be strong. That I must remember her words of encouragement and everything she taught me. That way, she'll live on inside me for always. Forever."

"Sasha, you're right," Pavan spoke, reaching through his ghostly self's chest. "I should be more like you."

She vanished, reappearing on the stairway, laughing softly once again. "Shall we go out onto the terrace? The weather's so nice today. It would be lovely to enjoy the breeze together."

And then, as the two Pavans moved to join her, they fused, until it was the current Pavan that took her hand and joined her outside.

"Look!" Sasha smiled as they stood beneath the lightening sky, gazing out at the country of Ascantha. Your country stretches before us as far as the eye can see! Oh! Ascantha is so beautiful!"

"Yes," Pavan smiled. "Beautiful, Sasha...So beautiful."

"My darling king," Sasha smiled back at him from the low wall around the terrace. "For people to live their lives happily, you must be strong..."

But her voice was fading, and then she began to dissolve into sparkling light as the horizon lightened quickly. Pavan reached out to embrace her, but once again his hands passed through her. And then, as the first of the sun's rays peeked over the horizon, she was gone. Pavan fell to his knees, hugging himself as he trembled.

"I remember," he muttered. "Everything you ever told me lives on inside my heart. Forgive me, Sasha. I've finally opened my eyes. I'm sorry for being so sad and lonely. At last, I've finally awoken from my long and terrible nightmare."

Kane and the others left him in privacy, and after a few hours, news began to spread. The king had put away his black robes. The time of mourning was finally over. Within minutes, the black banners were rolled up for the first time in years, and in their place, Ascantha's proud, crimson banners were unfurled, hanging proudly around the castle tower once more. The news spread like wildfire, and in mere minutes, the people of Ascantha had cast aside their black garments, changing into more usual attire once more. And then, Pavan held a feast in their honor as thanks for their help.

"Thanks to you, and Emma, I've finally woken from a terrible nightmare, and I can be a king again!" Pavan said. "I cannot thank you enough. If there is ever anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask. I swear I will do anything in my power to repay you. Anything at all I can do to help."

"There is one thing," Marik said. "Have any of your advisors, or your Minister, heard about a jester passing through Ascantha? Named Dhoulmagus?"

"I'm afraid my Minister and advisors have been rather preoccupied with my condition," Pavan said apologetically.

Marik nodded. "Then we'll have to search elsewhere. Thank you anyway."

Pavan nodded, then stood, bowing. "Farewell, my friends. May fortune ride with you on your continuing journey. I hope we will meet again soon."

"Your Majesty, I know it's not my place, but Emma cares deeply for you," Kane spoke up. "It is a very rare woman that would spend two years trying to save a man from his sorrow without fail."

Pavan smiled, nodding. "Indeed, I am blessed to have her services."

And with that, Pavan left the room. Kane reached out to take a bite of food, only to stop as images flashed behind his eyes. He picked up his goblet instead and drained it, then stood, excusing himself and heading up to the terrace. He stared out at the horizon in the direction of Trodain, then raised his gaze to the sky. Finally, he closed his eyes. He hadn't forgotten. He knew who he was. He knew why he served. He served for devotion's sake. He served because it was his duty. Because he was loyal. But then...maybe it wasn't always that way. He remembered a child. And infant, held adoringly in Kane's much smaller arms. A child pulling his hair and laughing. A child crying as the cruel older boy told him he didn't belong. He remembered being told to say goodbye. But he couldn't. The mere thought of it broke his heart. He opened his eyes, realizing he'd fallen to his knees, and tears were falling from his eyes. His heart felt cold and fluttered painfully. And then, someone was beside him. Jessica knelt, setting her hand on his shoulder, and as he pulled in a stuttering breath, she pulled him gently into her arms. Neither spoke, she merely held him as he cried silently, though he didn't sob. Slowly, the cold feeling faded, and after a few minutes, she released him and took his hand, pulling him to his feet.

"Marik doesn't remember, but he was cast out of our home," Kane said softly. "I couldn't leave him to suffer alone, so I joined him. I...I became a knight to ensure he had a home in Trodain. I made myself indispensable to King Trode. I made myself the perfect servant so that Marik wouldn't ever be cast out again."

"And somewhere along the way, you forgot that everything you had done had been for Marik," Jessica reasoned. "You tried so hard to prove yourself devoted, that that devotion became an obsession, and you began to believe that you served for the sake of serving."

Kane nodded. "I made the knight of Trodain my entire being to protect Marik, and as a result, I distanced myself from him. For the sake of his happiness, I served, and in serving I forgot what his happiness meant to me."

Jessica nodded. "It's okay to not be perfect. And it's okay for the things that you want to change. Marik still means everything to you."

"No," Kane shook his head. "For the sake of my oath, I would have been willing to abandon Marik. Even now...Even after Ishmari loosened those memories from the recesses of my mind...there's still a part of me that believes that my oath and my service to His Majesty are the most important aspects of my life. I...I'm not sure who I am anymore."

Jessica squeezed the hand she still held. "You are Kane. You are one of the most loyal men I've ever met, and one of the strongest. You would give anything for your king, and you would give anything for your brother. But those two things don't necessarily conflict. Your brother serves the same king. You both protect King Trode and Medea. There's no reason why your oath to your king and your devotion to your brother should conflict."

"And yet, they do," Kane said, staring into space.

"Then let me worry about Marik," Jessica said. "I know you can't simply transfer your oath, so if there ever comes a time when you have to choose between protecting King Trode or protecting your brother, let me look after your brother for you. Let me lend you my strength when you need it."

Kane stared at her in surprise. "But...If I forsake Marik..."

Jessica shook her head. "It's not about forsaking your brother. It's about trusting others to help you protect what matters to you. If the time ever comes that you have to choose one or the other, then let me be a way to choose both."

Kane hesitated, then smiled, nodding, and wrapped his arms around her. Jessica smiled, resting her cheek on the front of his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him.

"Thank you," Kane smiled. "Truly."

"Of course," Jessica smiled. "You're my friend, Kane. Of course I'll help you."

Kane nodded, and they remained there a while longer before returning to the others, joining the feast at last.

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