Ivory's Echoing Recall (1/2) [Intermission]

Ivory’s first conscious memory of existing is a warm house with food he is unused to. Baked macaroni and cheese, oxtail with a savory drizzle of gravy. It smelled nice but internal knowledge dictated he's only ever had chicken nuggets and sometimes fries. A different food can lead to a disrupted cycle of normalcy. It was a common observation he noticed in the old house. A ‘special’ occasion where Ivory is forced to play along for guests checking in on him.

Ivory is a boy in a cruel world, previously sheltered by monsters in a shared home. He has an older brother, someone who looks like him, protected him from hands too big, but Ivory cannot find the other in this dream.

And so, Ivory left the food at the kitchen table, and hid under the wooden furniture instead. The cloth on the table made for a good visual distraction, and Ivory sat with his knees pulled to the chest. He was entirely too small and too weak. Ivory was alone with a lack of dust bunnies to play with. It was simply him, the cold tile, and the table hiding him away.

He did not like this new house.

Ivory can faintly recall the extended hand of a woman with curly hair, dark skin and freckles. He can at least say, she did not lie about her home being warm.

A stampede of feet slamming on the ground caused Ivory to freeze. His little fingers gripped onto his knees. He couldn’t see well in the darkness under the table. Ivory kept extremely quiet, listening to the fridge opening, then shutting with a reckless thud.

Ivory held his breath. He can see a shadow approaching his safe spot.

“Hey. Hey you,” Someone whispered, young, a child, just as he was. The shadow blended into the table’s shade.

Ivory scooted backwards, trying to immerse himself further in the dark.

“Mom said I’m supposed to leave you alone. Wait until you come to us at your own pace.” She, a girl whispered, in a rush.

Ivory said nothing.

“But! I went through your stuff.” There’s a shuffle as a brown hand lifts up a small piece of cloth from the table.

Ivory twitched at the revealed sight of his blue GameTenAdvanced in her hands.

“I couldn’t help it! It’s the same game I wanted for ages! Mine broke. So anyway,” She gave the device a little shake.

Ivory would’ve snatched the game out of her hands if he weren’t already crawling forward in a daze. He had a red-hot irritation from a possible deleted save file, which faded as he got closer to a familiar screen.

Ivory’s heart raced, and in a second of disbelief, he snatched the device out of her hand.

“Are you blessed by a God of luck,” Ivory blurted as he confirmed the visual sights of colorful pixels. The monster on screen had an impossibly low chance of showing up at random.

“God of luck? What’s—No, wait. Mom said you two were Japanese. So it is rare?! I was gonna shut it off without saving before you knew I messed with your stuff. I’m happy to have double checked!” She cheered, jumping and racing in circles behind the viewed table cloth.

…This stranger!

“You,” Ivory hissed out in a rush, gesturing to her to join him under the table. “What’s your name?”

She barreled under the table without fail, landing front-first on the tile with a laugh but lifting her head to boldly meet Ivory’s judging eyes. Her hair was long, curly and puffy, hiding most of her face from how thick it was. Still, the girl kept a grin. Her clothes, neat and cleaner than any child at the old house. Her palms are raised like an excited puppy’s, ready to paw, ready to grab.

Too much energy.

Ivory wondered if this would truly be his life now.

“I’m—“ The girl eagerly spoke, bright with life, but the memory crudely snapped to pieces.

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Shepard is a lonely, hurt soul in a new different world.

Ivory is still reeling from her memories, along with the feelings of a brother she had treasured. Not all of the emotions were hers. Ivory remained all that he is, because of Shepard herself and the soul ties of another.

Kazo had been thorough. A manifestation of memories and emotions can bring on a near-perfect copy. That’s what Ivory was, and he knew it. A tangled copy with a mission, a destiny, and a given message.

In fact, as Shepard choked and sobbed into his and Ebony’s backs, Ivory tasted the remnants of his counterpart’s feelings.

It is only a taste, but the devastation ran over his tongue like a burning hot pipe. The burn crackled and fizzled like a broken GameTenAdvanced with exposed wire. Ivory does not allow himself to be swept up, he cannot, but it is difficult.

Especially with how Ebony trembled against them both. Ivory knew Shepard couldn’t notice, caught in her own grief of a life lost. She was loud with the rough shudders of her tears. Ivory suspected Ebony was rushed with similar explosive emotions akin to his own counterpart. A feedback loop eager to drown either twin.

Ivory lifted his hands with purpose, unable to truly see what Shepard looked like currently, or how Ebony is meant to look, but ready to embrace them. He embraced the two the best he could, feeling their warmth, listening for a sign of their health.

It took a while, but Ivory could hear Shepard’s heart restart.

A sign she wanted to live.

And Ivory wanted nothing more than to carry out the glass-broken wish of his counterpart, to protect her better.

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Life is never that easy.

Ivory understood Shepard left the two to their own devices because she had been worried. Shepard was still swept in her own past, uncertain of the twins. For a brief second, Ivory wondered if it was because of how different they were. Was it his wolf ears and longer nails? The fact Ebony and Ivory had been created and not born?

The knowledge neither Ebony nor Ivory would ever truly be the two brothers she grew up with?

…Is it because Ivory lacked sight compared to his counterpart? Did Shepard think of him as inadequate? Why else did she test him back at this kingdom’s great wall?

That cannot be.

Ivory ducked his head, standing in an empty street. The Dullings are busy elsewhere, Ebony having left him moments ago to investigate the celebration’s theme.

Shepard isn’t so flat as a person. Not with all he’s seen, can see if he sat down and sifted through past memories.

Ivory resisted the urge to grab at his sensitive ears, hidden under his cloak. If his emotions grew out of hand, Ebony and Shepard would smell the blood off him. He had to remain calm and move forward. Forward and onward, just as Shepard is destined to go.

Ivory detected the sound of a thrown object sailing through the air but did not move.

The impact slammed into the back of his head. The stone clattered to the ground in a harsh bounce.

“Why are you staring at nothing, Weirdo?” A Dulling drawled, and she was with multiple friends, three, Ivory could read their calm heartbeats. “You’ve been standing in our way for the past two minutes. Get a move on.” The arrogance and sing-song of her voice had been stifling.

“Ne, look at his eyes!” Whispered a far younger Dulling, a tag-along, possibly.

“Uwah, good catch. That’s freaky, what’s with your eyes?” The Ringleader sneered. “You’re clearly new to town. And that get-up…We don’t need poor Dullings from outside the walls clamoring in here! We’re already struggling, got it?” Ending with a grit, the Dullings behind her cheered in agreement.

“You can always pass ahead and forget about my presence.” Ivory answered. “The street isn’t so narrow,” Not with how he can hear a mouse scurrying around, zooming from crate to crate when crossing the road.

Ivory stayed still as the Dullings swiftly crowded her, standing in a hostile circle. All Ivory could think is, was that the wrong choice of words?

But why? Hadn’t he simply told the situation what it was?

“We got a smart guy here,” The Ringleader sneered. “Oh, I can see a little under your cloak…Ack! Are you someone important? Look at that fancy white hair,” The Dulling backed off with a disgusted gag. “It has tints of blue! Who looks like that?!” The ramble was riddled in envious undertones.

“I am no more important than you or me,” Ivory can remember what blue looked like, a game device with fond echoes.

“...Hit him with rocks, guys.” The Ringleader gritted. “I hate people who don’t understand their status above us Dullings.”

As if that made sense at all. Ivory clenched his fists under his cloak. Should he just teach them all a lesson?

“What do you brats think you’re doing?!” Yelled a new Dulling in the distance.

“Isn’t that your sister?” Yelped the small tag-along.

“Niko?!” The Ringleader shrieked. “Don’t let her see you, we’re out of this mess! I am not getting grounded because of her! Come on,” In a flurry, the makeshift group prepared to run.

Ivory kicked a rock that had previously struck his back.

The Ringleader tripped from the smack of stone against her ankle, and within seconds, the rushing force from before had snatched her up.

“Are you harassing the guests again?!” Niko hissed, dark blues wild.

“But Sis, Father said they don’t belong here!” Whined the previously intimidating Ringleader.

“Father drinks himself stupid every other day, he’s trash.” Niko flicked the younger Dulling’s ear, and the smaller yelped with distress. As the two familial Dullings dissolved into bickering, Ivory lifted his head to face the new person approaching him in confidence. The others were distracted by the sibling dispute.

“Have those stones struck you?” The stranger was dressed modestly, but still better than the Dullings around him. “I don’t see any blood, nor bruises…Pardon me,” Fingers reached forward, and Ivory allowed the intrusion to peek under his hood with touch, gently pushing against his neck.

I should bite off your fingers for that, Ivory thought but knew this Dulling was only trying to check for injuries. This was fine as long as the other didn’t try to raise fingers higher, Ivory wouldn’t accept any touch on his sensitive ears from anyone but family.

“Not a bruise!” The Dulling pulled back with a relieved smile. “I apologize your first visit to this city happened to be so violent. I can’t imagine why my friends here thought it’d be acceptable to…Are you blind?” The observation came last moment, lost and distantly uncertain.

Ivory reached up, grasped his hood and tugged it further over himself.

“You hear that?! You’re messing with someone who couldn’t fight back! You little twerp, I didn’t teach you the basics to harm innocents with it!”

“Niko! My eaaar!” Wailed the younger.

“Yeah?! How about you lose it?” Niko snipped.

“No!”

A soft clearing of the throat, and Ivory is met with a sheepish smile from the stranger closest to him.

“Sorry. I meant not to startle you. My name is Rook. My good friend over there is Niko. Where are your keepers? To leave you alone like this is dangerous…”

It was a poisonous thought, but Ivory is spitefully alright with Shepard leaving him for the time being. “I’m not helpless.”

“You can’t read.” Rook gently replied. “How will you find your way?”

Ivory is admittedly, not as self-restrained as Ebony. A low growl vibrated from his throat, but it had been missed with Niko’s quick arrival, the Dulling throwing an arm around Rook and pulling Two heads together.

“Not true, Rook. Blind Dullings can read, you just need the right resources.” Niko gestured to Ivory. “You’re offending him.”

Rook gave a heavy breath. “I didn’t mean to,” He turned to Ivory with a light cough on the wrist. “How about this? As a proper apology…I’ll buy you your preferred weapon.”

The group of ragtag Dullings began to clamor in protest, he can hear Niko’s to be the loudest disagreement.

Ivory lifted his head. “Any weapon?”

Rook gave a thumbs up. “Any weapon. I can…Likely afford it.” Sheepish as before, with a hint of secret.

Ivory allowed himself to grin.

“However!” Rook exclaimed, and Ivory paused at the underlying challenge in his voice. “You’ll have to prove yourself an expert at your selection. If you throw knives like a master, then I’ll buy you a set!” Rook tackled on. “Those are my only terms. Think you can handle it, Stranger?”

“I’ve been bestowed the name Ivory,” Ivory patiently told him. “I accept your challenge.”