An ashy gray blankets the sky. Stone buildings loom above, shrieks of wind scratching through their alleyways.
The city streets are desolate, a monotone mirage of civilization. They're devoid of all life and meaning...
Devoid of sounds. Devoid of people. Devoid of purpose.
Among the barren byways walks a boy. A singular, suffocating child, dragging his feet along the lonely pavement.
Aimlessly, he wanders beneath the brewing clouds. He finds not a single soul, only shadows snaking by.
-What am I doing? It's for the best. Why did I say that? It's for the best.
He tries to dismiss the thought of slipping memories. He suppresses its influence, burying it into the back of his mind.
-I'm not supposed to do things like that. It's for the best. That's not how I was raised. It's for the best.
Static crackles in his ears. An imaginary audio he uses to repress the outside world.
His eyes trace his shadow, a disfigured, dark mirror.
-You're supposed to be perfect. It's for the best. To smile regardless. It's for the best. Stop begging for attention. It's for the best. Nobody cares. It's for the best. You should've done better. It's for the best. Maybe if I-
It's for the best.
...
...
Hours pass.
The stirring storm endures its blanket above. Still the same shade of nothing.
He saunters along the mountainous walls of the city. Their colossal size puts into perspective how small he really is..
He's in another world.
A likely massive, expansive world full of billions of people and animals. And each one of them likely has their own problems. Their own worries, their own mistakes... Things they wish they could do...
The thought isolates him further. It causes his own problems to feel even more insignificant. Even more pathetic...
It's a tactic he's always used, derived from his father. Other people have it worse. Don't complain. Don't express. Don't embarrass yourself...
Don't cry.
...
Hoary visions of the past assault his tired mind. Melancholic moments of himself as a boy. Lost in a rain-infested city, calling out for his unseen mother.
How old was he? Four? Five? It feels so long ago, the memory is washed in uncertainty. Yet the feeling from then translates to now.
Alone and lingering. Lost, not knowing what to do...
If what that man said is true... this memory, too, will fade.
...
A narrow divergence in the wall stops his drifting. An extensive corridor shrouded in shadow, leading somewhere unknown. Beyond the wall, perhaps?
His desire to escape pushes any hesitance aside. Sirius steps into the alleyway, anxious of an interaction with anyone. He's too ashamed to speak with someone, just as he's always been.
His quiet footsteps drum down the dingy passage. Normally, this kind of alley would invoke fear or unease. But, right now, he just wants to reach its end. He doesn't care.
As he treks through the grimy hall, childhood impressions cast out before him.
His brother runs by. Canopus and him are playing hide and seek in their old neighborhood. Sirius had found the boy, so now he's trying not to get caught.
Canopus is laughing. He has a smile Sirius has long since seen...
The memory ends. Leaving behind that crippling sense of longing.
...
No matter how much time passes, those childish games stick with him.
Or rather, the feelings he had when playing them.
...
The corridor comes to a fork.
To the left is a hefty, wooden door. Its thick metal lock tells him it's impassable.
To the right, the hall stretches further. At its end is a soft, natural glow.
He approaches the light, a slim metal gate standing at its source. A humid scent spreads inside the passage. A hollowing gale echoes its melody through the space.
He stops at the foot of the gate. It's flimsy and could easily be kicked down. There is no handle, so he presses his fingertips on the rusty bars. It begins to grudgingly open, releasing a clamorous, creaking song.
Another memory pauses his push.
He's seen a gate like this before. Back in elementary school, Canopus and him would explore the woods behind their house. Deep in the trees was an abandoned gate much like this one.
They had always imagined it as a portal to another world. Repeatedly, the brothers would pass through the frail bars, hearing its hinges squeal.
-Why are these memories coming back now? I haven't thought of them in so long...
He passes through the gateway, planting his feet into the checkered grass beyond.
He stands in a secluded patch of turf, dangling off the side of the capital.
Sprawling plains lay out before him, rolling far into the horizon. He's highly elevated, almost able to meet low-hanging clouds. Auretta seems to rest atop a highly raised hill.
Walking out into the lone greenery, he spots a distant incline winding toward what he assumes is the entrance to the city. A handful of carriages ride along the natural ramp. They look like ants; they're so, so far away... The walls of the city seemingly stretch on forever, and he can't see any other paths.
There is nowhere to go from here. The gate has led him to a cliff. A large overhang overlooking the fields and distant mountains.
At the end of the cliff rests a massive, draping tree. It bears resemblance to a willow tree back on Earth. Its knotted roots hang over the edge, tangling into the dirt. Braided green and white leaves pop out amidst the shrouded sky.
Sirius drifts toward the towering tree, its gloomy grandeur beckoning him. His feet shuffle in the tall grass, a gentle breeze brushing by.
He reaches the zenith, weeping leaves hanging overhead. He stares out at the expansive view. What should be wonder, only causes him to feel smaller...
He feels himself shrinking... He was right. This world is massive, with so many people...
...
His mother used to take him to sights such as these. She would take him to ride their bikes through trails and over hills, just to reach the views at the summits...
But those sights were beautiful. Those sights were vibrant and bright... Those sights... were seen through youthful eyes.
...
A dull gray envelops the sky. An empty, lethargic shade of life.
The sun no longer shines on the bleak horizon. Even in a new world, everything drowns in dreariness. Nothing sparkles anymore. It hasn't for a long time...
...
-When did life lose all its color?
...
"Man, that's quite the view."
"..."
"..."
Sirius glances beside him and finds the boy he thought he had abandoned.
...
It doesn't quite sink in. Sirius quietly returns to world-watching.
...
Sirius double-takes but finds nothing amiss. It's not until he triple-takes that he realizes.
"W-When did you get here?" Sirius steps back a little.
"Huh? Oh, I've been following you the whole time."
"...Seriously?"
Sirius can't help but pity his own lack of self-awareness.
"Well, not the whole time. I had lost you for a while, but then I finally found you moping around. I didn't want to bother you, so I just trailed you." He says it all extremely casually. "But, dang, that alleyway was creepy. When you were opening that gate, the sound almost gave me a heart attack!"
Korlin is his usual chipper self.
"Ah... sorry." Sirius doesn't know what to say. He's too ashamed for proper conversing. "Look, I'm sorry for... running off back there. I just got... overwhelmed, I guess."
Korlin lightly punches Sirius on the shoulder.
"Don't worry about it. I get it." His soft smile calms Sirius, if only a little
Sirius slaps his hands over his face and lets out a groan. He tucks down and sits, only a leg's-length away from the edge of the cliff. "I'm so stupid..."
"Maybe a little... But, anyone would have reacted that way." Korlin drops down beside Sirius. Both gaze off toward the faded mountains.
"You didn't."
"True... But I don't think I'm quite the best person to compare yourself to." He shifts his position. "I'm not sure why, I just... don't feel scared. Maybe it hasn't hit me yet. Or, maybe I don't even care..."
-Scared? Am I scared of something?
"I think we're talking about different things..."
"Hm? You're scared about your memories disappearing, no?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say I'm... I don't really believe that's true yet."
"..."
"...What?"
"You're deeper in denial than I thought..."
"Denial-? No, no, sure, the idea of losing memories is scary, but... I don't know why I would be scared of that. I just don't like when people... look at me."
"...Ah, social anxiety, huh?"
"Wha- No... not quite. It's more that... I can't stand people pitying me."
"...Sorry, I didn't know. For what it's worth, I don't look down on you or anything."
"...Thanks, but... You don't have to pretend to be nice to me. I can take it."
"It seems you've seen through my veil of lies," Korlin jokes. "But for real, you seemed pretty panicked back there. Are there... memories you'll miss?"
"Panicked, huh..."
-I did act like that, didn't I? But why would I be panicked over memories? There's nothing...
...
Sirius silently ponders to himself.
He digs through his memories, trying to find one he wouldn't want to leave behind.
...
"Anything?"
"Nothing recently..."
"Nothing at all? Not a single happy memory?"
"I don't really remember these last few years... It was all the same..." Sirius's voice cracks. "As stupid as it sounds... It feels like I died a long time ago."
...
Korlin seems to resonate with Sirius's words.
"Yeah... So, then, I take it there's lots of old memories? Some you're scared to lose?"
"...Some nostalgic ones. But, it'd probably be best if I forgot them... I'm not sure what I'd be scared to lose."
"..."
...
Both of them sit quietly. A breeze gently brushes against their hair.
It's peaceful.
It's like a tiny corner of the world pieced off just for them.
They sit with their thoughts. So much to say, no knowledge of how to say it...
Sirius looks up at the tree's branches.
"There was a tree like this back in my hometown." Melancholy laces his words. "My... brother and I would always run out through a field to get to it. We would play there for hours, sometimes with other kids too. It was... fun."
"..."
The dragging wind speeds up. Sirius buries his head in his sleeve.
"I... miss the old me."
"...Yeah," Korlin's response is drowned out by the howling air. Suffocating desolation embraces the cold children.
Sirius struggles to say any further words. He's choking on his own thoughts. He doesn't know why, but he wants to tell him... something. He never feels like this.
"I... used to be such a happy kid..."
For the first time in his life, he opens the floodgates of his thoughts.
"..."
"Carefree, just going by and enjoying life. I hung out with 'friends' every day, going to sleepovers, and birthday parties... But now..." Sirius trails off and buries himself deeper. "What happened to me...?"
The ambience of an incoming storm both soothes and shivers.
"...I get it."
"..."
Sirius turns his attention to Korlin, his head still stuffed in his arms.
"When I was a kid, my friends and I would ride our bikes until sunset, going to stores and messing around, laughing the whole time..." The boy sucks in a weak breath. "I lost all my friends and closed myself in... And I... never tried again. My only friend was my sister, but that was... kind of sad." He lets out a feeble chuckle. They both do. "I only did stuff I wanted to do, and yet... none of it made me happy."
The haunting shrill of nature nestles in their ears. The silence among them isn't awkward, it's peaceful... Comforting.
Hearing the boy's story, the looming question reenters Sirius's mind. Seeking validation, maybe confirmation, he asks it.
"Do you... want to keep your memories?"
Korlin thinks about it for a moment.
"...I don't know. Do you?"
"I... don't know either. It'd be nice to keep the... happy stuff, but at the same time... all it causes me is regret. It reminds me of how much of an idiot I am."
"Nostalgia is a hell of a drug..."
"Yeah... Do you... want to remember your sister?"
The question strikes Korlin. He's shocked Sirius would even think to ask.
"Well... Yeah, but... Heh, she was the only person who seemed to care for me. The only person I cared for. And that made me happy, but... it brought me a different kind of loneliness... Maybe she was just pitying me."
"..."
-...Isn't that what you're doing now?
Korlin's eyes sear back into Sirius's brain. His pitying eyes. The pity he hates so much.
...But right now, it doesn't matter. He doesn't feel that hatred. In fact, he can feel their bond growing closer.
And that scares him.
More than any memory disappearing.
...
Korlin swallows stridently. His hands begin to shake.
"And what happened at the end... I don't want to remember that."
Korlin is on the verge of tears.
...
"What... happened at the end?"
"..."
Sirius remembers the instant Korlin burst from the ground. He desperately shouted someone's name...
Zora.
...
A time passes. Korlin does not give a response.
They sit together in blissful silence. Watching the tree blow in the passing wind.
For some reason, the thought of Korlin's sister brings up memories of his mother.
"I-" Sirius chokes up. He fakes a cough in his arm to play it off. He rapidly blinks to sell the act more. "Sorry-"
Korlin smiles sadly. A warm tear trickles down his cheek.
"It's okay to cry, you know..."
Sirius is taken aback. Those are the same words his mother had told him after his dog passed.
"I'm not... going to cry. I would never cry in front of someone." He coughs one last time. "Besides, I only cry for other people. I wouldn't cry over myself like that."
A blatant lie. He wouldn't cry at all.
Sirius would never cry for another. Because for him to do that...
He would have to care about someone else. And that...
"...You're an interesting man, Sirius."
"That so...?"
...
"I think we're more alike than I thought."