paixaorpg | Arrival of the Horned Boy. [Complete]

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Arrival of the Horned Boy. [Complete]

Character(s): Ico, Yorda, ???
Content: Ico meets Yorda at the Joutenheim gate, and follows her to a hotel; one comatose slumber later, the two discuss their pasts and the world of Paixao
Setting: Joutenheim gate - later on, the hotel Actua Are
Time: Mid-afternoon, week 6
Warnings: N/A

The young boy had made himself comfortable in a corner near the gates, sitting by the wall. His rune-covered sword, electric and crackling, was stuck inside the ground, within easy reach if Ico felt threatened. But his attention was no longer on the passerby's in this strange place: For now, it was rooted on the electronic journal he held in his hands, a gift of one of the passerbys who had talked much too fast for him to understand what they were saying. It seemed that the journal was a gift, of sorts; a way of welcoming him into the world he'd entered into, and despite his initial apprehension in it he was now busily writing in the small pad, marveling at the way his scribbled words appeared on the screen.

He'd practiced writing for a bit before figuring out how to make an actual 'post', and almost immediately he had gotten a reply. And so he sat cross-legged, scribbling with all the furrowed-browed intensity of a scholar, his pen a divining rod for the mysteries that'd been laid before him.

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Yorda had been walking through the city, as usual, barefoot and clad in the only dress she owned. She liked going out and meeting new people occasionally - but today was different, somehow. Today, the girl felt like going to the gates and watching new people pour into the city. She was worried about Cora, who had yet to come for her (and the one who now possessed her journal, Elenra, hadn't been seen, either) - and she missed the boy, hoping he was safe and away from the sunken island and any more misfortune.

When she got to Joutenheim gate, having picked it out of the four, she gasped upon seeing a familiar sight. Who else was there but the boy himself, writing? Yorda stared for a few moments and padded closer, staring. How did he have his horns again? The last time the princess had seen him, they had been broken off. The girl knelt on the ground and reached out for the horns to touch them, not bothering to speak for the moment.

As engrossed as he was in the book, Ico had an ear turned to the world around him, for he was not truly at ease with his location. Perhaps it would be a long time before he would be, for his body was still alert to the movement of shadows, to danger all around him; a survival instinct that he found useful, at least for the moment. So when he felt a shadow pass over him, immediately he looked up, hand reaching quickly for the sword at his side, his eyes filled with intensity.

He was about to speak a harsh warning of some sort, when his eyes fell upon who it was that had chosen to stand before him. It was Yorda! But it could not be her. He had just seen her a moment before, petrified... perhaps this was not her, perhaps it was all a trick, but he could not be sure. As these thoughts raced through his mind, he stared at her openly with wide eyes, and sat rigid as she reached towards him.

"Yorda?" he whispered, the name uneasy on his tongue - it was the first time he'd ever spoken it. "Are you really here?"

As soon as Ico moved towards it, Yorda's eyes were drawn to the sword. "How did you get that?" she asked, standing up and backing away, a little uneasy. She knew very well what the sword could do, and although she trusted the boy, it didn't stop her fear of the sword from showing. After all, it could kill her in her shadow form just as easily as it killed her mother.

But then she saw the shock on the boy's face and remembered who he was, that he would never do her any harm. She smiled at him, laughing joyfully, and reached for his face to see if he were real. When she knew he was, Yorda laughed again, her smile growing brighter than before. "It is you!"

He couldn't speak, could not formulate an answer to her question. The tears that had threatened to pour down his cheeks before now tried to do so again, and as much as he tried to resist them, he could feel them welling up near his eyes... more so after she touched his face.

He could feel her, he could see her, he could hear her speak... wait. She could speak?! The boy from the journal had told him that everyone spoke the same language... could it be that it was the same for Yorda and he? That was as good an indication of her existence as anything... but a part of him was still bewildered at the thought.

As he slowly took her hand in his, the tears began to fall down his cheeks. "I thought that I had failed you," he whispered quietly. "I thought that the Queen had done something to you. Are you really here?"

Yorda watched his eyes curiously. What were those? Yorda had never cried herself - and her mother certainly hadn't - and she had never seen anything like it. What was wrong with the boy? She tilted her head curiously at him, stroking his face and horns, still trying to fathom whether or not he was a mere illusion. It took a few moments, during which Yorda gently brushed at Ico's tears and wondered silently at them, but at last she believed, and she laughed again as he took her hand.

"You did not fail," she told him. "You saved me." The glowing princess felt an unfamiliar feeling in her own eyes, not realizing they were happy tears, and laughed again, the sound almost like a quiet sob because of the unfamiliar thickness of her own voice. "And now we are here together."

"I saved you?" he whispered, not letting go of her hand. It was too good to be true... he didn't want to believe it, was almost too scared to do so. For her to come here, to say that it was all over, that the curse was broken... that he had succeeded, without having any memory of it himself...

But now he brushed aside those questions, and without warning he hugged her tightly with both arms, careful not to gore her with his horns. "We are together," he whispered, echoing her statement and silently weeping as he tried to comprehend this. "The last thing I remember was looking for the Queen. I was going to... hurt her, I think, for what she did to you. You are not angry with me?" Somehow, perversely, the thought of killing her mother, even one who had so mistreated her, was a thought that he could only approach with trepidation. Was he allowed to hate her as he did?

Yorda nodded. "Yes," she answered, her voice quiet and trembling in her joy. She looked at the boy curiously. "Do you not remember?" But considering that Yorda had found the boy, unconscious, his horns broken off, she didn't blame him for failing to remember - and at the memory of that, Yorda lightly stroked his horns.

That stopped, however, at the sudden embrace, and Yorda blinked, neither knowing what this was or what to do about it. After a moment, though, she lightly wrapped her arms around Ico's shoulders and pillowed her cheek on his head, mindful of the horns. "Yes," she replied. "We are together." The girl shook her head, still resting on Ico's, when she heard the question. "I am not angry with you. Thank you."

He shook his head at Yorda; he didn't remember at all. It hadn't happened to him, after all, but he could not have known that. The horns were still there, unbroken, and somewhere out there in Ico's own personal timeline, the Queen still waited for him to fight her. But he did not know that either.

Sensing her discomfort, Ico felt like he was going to pull away, but then he felt her arms around him. Even while holding her hand, she always seemed so frail to him, as if a strong wind could blow her down or chase her away. A warmth filled his heart from an unspoken promise fulfilled, to protect her at all costs, and though he did not understand the nature of his arrival here, he could take solace that he was here, and she was safe. If this was a dream, it was a good one.

Slowly, he pulled away, wiping the tears from his face. "Are we safe here?" he asked, his mind thinking once again of her safety. "I do not know this place. Are the Queen's shadows still pursuing you?"

Yorda also had no way of knowing about their timelines. All she knew was that she found the boy, laying unconscious and bleeding from the places where his horns had been. She had carried him away from the throne room, then, cradling him as carefully and gently as one would a newborn child as she moved through the castle and set him on the boat. She had then pushed it out to sea and watched alone as the boy slowly drifted from her sight, the castle crumbling around her. She had expected to die.

But she hadn't, and now she was here with the boy, and they were wrapped in each other's arms, happy to be together again. This was no dream, that much Yorda knew, but how? How had they gotten there, how had this happened? But it didn't matter. The person who meant the most to Yorda was with her now, and he was safe.

... For now, at least. Yorda let Ico go as he pulled away, helping him dry his tears. "There are shadows here," she responded quietly. "But they are not around now." How to explain, when she didn't understand so much herself?

He thought on her words for a good while, brow furrowed once more as he considered their options. "If there are shadows around, then it is not safe. Maybe we aren't in the fortress anymore, but I cannot lie down just yet. If the Queen is here, then I shall make sure that she harms you no longer." Slowly, he tried to get to his feet and grasp the sword... and failed, leaning heavily on it as he fell to one knee, exhaustion threatening to overtake him. His body, having carried him all this way, was now wishing him to find rest. "Rngh..." was the noise he made, as he did his best to keep his eyes open, until finally he could stand.

"Is there... is there a bench we could rest on a while?" he asked Yorda, the memories of resting safely in them while escaping the fortress coming back to him.

Yorda blinked at Ico. Did he not know the Queen was dead? Had he been knocked out right as he struck the final blow? "The Queen is dead," Yorda told him, her eyes lowering. "She can not harm anyone any longer." Yorda stood up slowly, watching Ico - only to kneel before him once more as the boy seemed to collapse. She stretched her arms out towards him, then hesitated. Should she carry him, when he had been perfectly capable of guiding him before? Did he truly need it?

"I can take you to a place where we can rest," she responded, standing up and offering him her hand. She smiled at him, aware that usually, it was he who took her hand first.

The Queen was dead... the word 'dead' hit him with the force of a comet, threatening him to topple him backward. Had he truly killed her? Lost his memory of that time? If he had saved her, then...

He looked up at her arms, and longed for them somehow. He'd spent all this time taking charge, leading her around, pretending that he knew what he was doing, that it was almost irresistible not to simply collapse against her, let her take control.

But he couldn't do that to her. Slowly, he stood up, and took her hand with his left, his right hand drawing the sword out of the ground. "I will follow you," he said in a low voice, still fighting sleep from his eyelids. He felt so incredibly weary, now.

Yorda gathered Ico's materials from the ground and held his hand when he took hers, nodding. "I will lead you," she told him simply, leading him to the odd metal snake (little did she know that it was called a train) that made its way from place to place within the city. She took a few jeweled petals from the plants nearby, careful not to drop anything she was already holding, and gave them to the stationmaster once they'd reached the place.

It was lucky for them that they were already at one of the gates, which meant that a station was not that far away. Yorda let Ico onto the train and looked for a seat, finding a couple near the window. She sat down and looked at him, an odd reversal of what had happened in the castle.

It was easy for him to be led. Barely managing not to drag his sword along the ground as he followed her, he leaned his head gently against her shoulder, keeping his eyes half-open. Almost there, he told his body, Almost there. Then you can rest. He barely noticed the strange structure they were climbing into, or the transaction with the stationmaster, choosing instead to place his full trust in Yorda for the first time that he could remember.

Finding their way to a set of seats on the train, Ico sat down next to Yorda, briefly looking out the window and around the room, one last attempt to ensure their safety, and taking one last glance at Yorda... before the last of his strength gave out and he was falling back, his horns scraping against the wall as he fell against it into slumber. Not even the jolt of the train as it left the station could rouse him from his slumber. As he passed into slumber, the last coherent thoughts that drifted through his mind were: She is here. She is safe. That is all that matters to me.

Yorda watched Ico for a long time - she didn't know how long - a gentle smile on her face. He was here, he was safe. Now Cora, wherever she was, would no longer have to worry - and more than that, Ico and Yorda could stay together. The thought made the princess happy, and she closed her eyes for a few moments... or what she thought was a few moments. It was, in reality, until they reached Central Station and the train whistle awoke Yorda, who jerked awake - she hadn't been as tired as Ico obviously was.

The girl stood up and thought for a moment before carefully gathering Ico and his possessions into her arms (maneuvering the sword was difficult, but she managed) and carried him out of the train, stepping lightly and carefully so as not to cut herself or others with the sword. She made her way to the Actua Are beyond Cid's shop, where she had stayed before.

This was just as good a place to return to as any.

Ico dreamed.

In his dream, he was outside the domed city, the two giants before him. Only now the giants weren't statues; they were moving, and as they moved towards him, they became the smoky black shadows that the Queen commanded. Gigantic and malevolent, their glowing eyes like miniature suns, they walked towards him, extending out their claws to snatch him up. Soon, like Yorda, he would be pulled in, suffocating in a coffin like all the other horned children... all the other lost souls...

He let out a shout as he stood up, eyes wide, looking for a nearby weapon in his sudden panic. All of a sudden he realized where he was: A large, white room with a big bed, one that he had been resting in. It was a bed surely made for noble folk, for he had never seen, much less slept in one as spacious and soft as this. And right next to the bed, in a chair, was Yorda.

He understood now: He'd fallen asleep, and she had brought him here. Behind her, he saw his sword, still crackling with energy, resting against the wall. An impressive feat, to carry both him and the sword, but that was not his concern. More importantly, he worried that he had scared Yorda.

"Bad dream," he said hastily, blinking away the sleep and slowly sliding from the bed. It took more than a little bit of effort, for his body was only now punishing him for the exertion he had put on it while escaping from the fortress. He felt bruised and battered, and winced a little as he swung his legs onto the side of the bed.

"Where are we? Is this your home?" he asked her, looking around the room with more than a little curiosity. So much about this place that he did not know... and how long had Yorda been here? When had she come here? After she had saved her from the Queen?

Yorda watched Ico concernedly from the chair. What was going on? Yorda rarely remembered her dreams, and was unaware as to whether or not she moved in her sleep. She jumped at the shout, drawing her arms close to her body for a moment before reaching for the boy and stroking his hair in an attempt to be comforting. She didn't know what happened to Ico in his sleep, but she knew from the distressed look on his face that it hadn't been pleasant.

"We are in my room," Yorda replied. She had, indeed, returned to the room Sonic had originally taken her to. It wasn't her home - at least, Yorda didn't think of it as her home, but she liked it here and felt safe here. Whether she really was safe was up for debate, but Yorda was unaware of such things as of yet.

The boy closed his eyes and relaxed a little as he felt Yorda's hand in his hair. It was a comforting gesture, something he remembered her doing sometimes before they fell asleep on the benches dotting the fortress. He smiled a little, happy that nothing bad had happened while he was awake. This was a safe place, he decided... at least for now. It was hard to resist the urge to keep moving, keep running, for he had no idea where else to run. This was a different place than the fortress, and he sensed that there were different rules to it.

"Your room?" he echoed with astonishment, looking around. It was nice, for sure, but a bit barren somehow. He wondered how she had managed to get this space for herself. Perhaps she was borrowing it from someone else? In any case, he got up from the bed and looked around the room, breathing slowly. It didn't seem like there was anything dangerous about being here, but even the crumbling fortress could be deceptively beautiful. Part of his mind could not reconcile with the idea that they were safe, especially with shadows around.

Seeing nothing that disturbed him, he turned his attention back to Yorda, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You already know how to get about here without my help," he observed, seemingly impressed. "How long have you been here?"

Yorda smiled and continued to stroke Ico's hair, grateful that he was here. She had waited for him faithfully and looked for him, and here he was. Those who had wished her well had been right; something she was incredibly happy about. "Yes," she answered, smiling serenely at him. "Sonic brought me here when the shadows came." She had only seen one, but that combined with the memories of the castle had been more than enough for the girl. "He is my friend."

She laughed lightly at Ico's question and nodded. "I have been here for many turns of the sun and moon," Yorda replied. She still wasn't sure of time; she never had been, and it wasn't as though it was something she had needed, anyway.

It was so nice to see her smile; had he ever seen her do that before? He couldn't remember... most of the time she had been blank-faced, as if all the emotion had fled from her while trapped in that cage. Gently, he knelt down beside her chair, resting his head against her while she stroked his hair, all the while being careful about his horns. He had decided that if he angled them away from her, there was little danger of her being hurt.

As he rested against her, he listened to her explain how she had come to be here in the first place, and how long she'd stayed in this domed city. It seemed that Yorda had been here a long time... and had made friends, as well. But how many of them were truly friends? Ico had known enough people in his short lifetime not to take things at face value, and as much as he cared for Yorda, he didn't think she had it in her to be discerning when it came to other people. Once again, he decided to act as her guardian.

"You must tell me everything about the people that have met here," he said in a soft voice, pulling away in order to look up at her. "Including your friends. As much as you can remember. That way, I know who to trust, okay?" His hand slipped into her's, a serious expression on his face. As much as he was happy to be reunited with Yorda, her safety was always first on his mind.

Yorda had learned to smile when she left the island. She hadn't had much reason to before, after her mother had imprisoned her and planned to hurt her. Even when the boy had come to free her, Yorda had still suffered from the strain of knowing the shadows were coming for her and Ico - and the knowledge that her mother would not simply allow her to leave, no matter how hopeful the situation had seemed.

It was true that Yorda didn't know enough to tell the good people from the bad, not unless they were being honest about it. Unfortunately for the strangely sheltered princess, that was all too rare; most people knew well enough to hide their true faces. She gave Ico a confused look before nodding after a moment, holding the boy's hand. It felt good to have his hand in hers again, at any rate.

"Very well." And Yorda began, telling him of Sonic and his bravery, of Hamel and the kindness he had hidden, of Genie and his jokes and Timon and his sarcasm (although Yorda didn't know how to describe it). She told him about Ivan and his djinn (and how he taught her what food was), Cid and his tea and Auron and his silence. And she told him about Cora, and how she had been living with her before she vanished.

It was good to hear these names from Yorda, and to hear a bit of their character. Perhaps she wasn't necessarily discerning when it came to friends, but her memory was good. And none of these people appeared to have harmed her... at least, that he could see. Perhaps his fears were unfounded. As he listened to her speak for a long time, he continued to keep one hand around her's at all time, for a mad part of him feared that to lose touch with her would be to lose her altogether. Touching hands was safe, his mind had decided - if they needed to flee, they could, and he could lead her to safety... if truly such a place existed.

"I met another boy in this city I think, an," and here he paused to try to pronounce his name, "Uh-zu-mah-ki Naruto-h." At this, he glanced at his own electronic journal, now located on the bedside table. He only now remembered that he had left during a conversation, of sorts... about Yorda. Perhaps he'd still be reachable?

"We wrote on that strange tablet," the horned boy explained, looking up at Yorda once more. "Do you know him?"

As for Yorda, the girl was enjoying Ico's company. It was interesting to finally be able to be understood by him, but it was more than just that; Yorda found his presence comforting. It was really no wonder, considering what she'd been through with him, and they had spent the majority of their escape attempt in silence, with only the occasional sentence spoken and the gestures or calls from the boy in between everything else.

Yorda smiled upon hearing the name. "Yes. He is my friend," she responded. "We spoke on the journals." It was still a strange word to Yorda, but at least she knew it now.

As Yorda spoke of Naruto, the young boy sat up and picked up the journal from the table, figuring out how to turn it to the entry he'd made. Seeing that there was a reply from him - ironically showing that Naruto had placed his identity at the same time Yorda found him - he wrote back a brief reply with the stylus, marveling at how quickly he'd picked up writing. It'd been a little cumbersome at first, but he felt he was getting the hang of it now.

"He has been helping me here," he explained to her, lifting his head. "I would like to meet him, but I do not..." He drifted off, thinking of all the times he had separated from Yorda in order to pursue a goal or another in the fortress, such as pushing something off a ledge, or climbing a structure of some kind; some activity that separated them from each other. Every time he did that, there had always been a danger that the shadows would reappear, particularly if he went too far away from her, ready to snatch her away.

But the Queen was dead now, wasn't she? There were different shadows here, harmful ones, but they weren't going to snatch her away the moment he turned his back. He had to believe this... had to believe the Queen was gone, that he'd killed her, otherwise he feared that he could never leave Yorda alone again. Realizing that he had not finished what he was saying, he looked back to the princess he'd saved, taking her hand again.

"When I first came to the fortress," he said in a small voice, "I think I was ready to die. But then I was freed from the coffin, and I met you." His eyes drifted away as he brought to mind his first meeting with her. "And I decided that I wanted to live, so that I could save you from that place." He gave her a small, sad smile, and tapped the side of his left horn. "These things are supposed to bring bad luck to people. That's why I was sent to die. Do you think that I bring bad luck?" He looked into Yorda's eyes as he asked this, his heart opened to her like a split fruit.

Yorda watched Ico write, the gentle smile remaining on the girl's face. She was simply happy to be near him again, and although they were surrounded by unknown dangers and new mysteries, she didn't mind; the only thing that mattered was that they were together. The boy was alive, and he was here. Even if they had nothing else (as they'd had in the castle), this was enough.

The girl nodded at Ico's concerns. "You do not have to worry," she told him. "I will be all right." She had survived this long, after all, and as long as she knew the boy was alright, that was enough for her. "Naruto is a good person. He will help you." Just as it had been good for Yorda to go out and experience the world on her own, it would be good for Ico as well. They hadn't escaped their island prison only to isolate themselves further, after all.

She watched the boy again, listening to him with serious eyes before shaking her head and laughing. "No," Yorda replied, patting and stroking Ico's head gently, "I do not. You have saved me." She thought for a moment and laughed again. "You bring good luck."

Yorda's reassurances, that he brought good luck, sent a warm, joyful feeling all throughout Ico's body. He stood up once more and picked her up out of her chair, hugging her once again. There were no need for further words... in their time together, there had been no need for words at all. They had understood each other all the same.

As he held her to him, Ico pondered her earlier words: I will be all right. If she had survived for a good while here without his help, then perhaps he could trust in her ability to survive here. She'd been able to carry him to this place, after all... it had shown how much she had grown since he had seen her last. No longer was she depending on him to show her the way, or to take charge in any situation. He wondered if that had been a gradual change or not.

"I will trust you," he said with a small smile, pulling away. "I am still not sure of this place, but if you can make it around on your own, I will not worry needlessly. You have one of these things, yes?" He held up the e-journal to her. "Will you have time to write to me if you run into any trouble?"

Yorda gave a small, surprised cry at being picked up and hugged like that, but didn't protest, and only laughed once she realized what the boy was doing. She then hugged him back, silent once again. Despite the many questions the girl had been asking around here, she didn't necessarily feel the need to talk all the time, especially when there was really no need for words.

The princess was slowly growing more confident in herself and independent the longer she stayed here. Of course, those sorts of things wouldn't exactly come overnight, but she didn't care. It was all a par of living and learning, and each new day was a delight, full of hope and promise and new discoveries. It was wonderful, and Yorda was glad to be able to experience it.

She smiled at Ico's trust. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I have a journal, as well, and I will try to contact you if anything should go wrong." Not that Yorda knew what could go wrong, or even why there was really no reason for it, unless the Heartless showed up again - but it never hurt to be prepared, as she was slowly discovering.

Ico grinned a little at how much Yorda was laughing today. It was a good noise... one he didn't think he had ever heard inside that gloomy fortress. Suddenly, all the aches in his limbs, in his wrists, his sword hand, his head and feet and back and chest... all of that seemed to melt away, listening to it. He never thought that someone's laughter could be so rewarding to him, but it was.

He closed his eyes for a minute as he pulled away from her, to stop the tears from welling up again. Of all the silly things he could do, crying because she was laughing was among the silliest to him. He knew she wouldn't mind, but it was a manner of pride to him. He'd done enough crying for one day, in his mind.

He smiled at her assurances, however... before glancing at the e-journal in his hand again, noticing that Naruto had already replied. "Ah... your friend is still talking to me," he said, looking up at Yorda. "Um. Do you mind if I...?" He reached for his stylus, indicating that he wanted to continue writing to him... but feared offending her by turning his attention away from her. As joyful a reunion as this had been, Ico still needed answers to very important questions... there was still so much about this place that he did not know.

Yorda had discovered that she loved to laugh. It hadn't been difficult, really; once away from the island fortress, all of Yorda's previous worries had melted away, almost as though they had never been. All but one, that is; she had worried about Ico and whether he was still alive. Now that he was, however, the girl had almost none to speak of - save for Cora and perhaps Timon.

The princess stared at Ico questioningly at the look on his face, not knowing why he was doing what he was. So she patted his hand gently, abstaining from asking questions for the moment. She shook her head at his question, not minding in the least; it was pleasant simply to watch the boy, after all, and his presence was comforting and reassuring to her. "I will remain here with you," she answered simply. "There is time."

With one more smile to her, he nodded and took Yorda's hand, guiding her to the bed next to him; the better to be close to her, even if they were not speaking. After a while of writing, his hands still on the stylus and e-journal, he leaned his head against her shoulder very gently, feeling as if they were back on one of those benches in the fortress.

He had remembered those moments when he'd found her petrified body in the chamber... remembered gazing at her, thinking that he'd never have such time with her again, that he'd never be able to touch her or speak to her, or... anything at all. But now she was here... they were both here, and the Queen was dead. They were safe.

Ico didn't think he could ever feel more happy in his life.

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Arrival of the Horned Boy. [Complete]

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Much later...

DUN DUN DUUUUNNN~

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