Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The World-Outside-The-World is named for good reason. Concepts like “space” and “time” are utterly foreign, along with a few others like “sound” and “direction.”

It was just a pity that “light” was also a forbidden notion as well.

Treading the same space over and over for years upon centuries on end would have driven a normal person insane. Garanol was not a normal person, if his pointed ears, dusky blue skin, and the four horns protruding out of his head were any indication. Luckily, he had other ways of amusing himself, counting as fast as he could, as high as he could before losing track of his place being his most preferred pastime; not because it was fun, God no, but because it ate up more time than anything else he could conceive. Not only was there a dampener on his magical prowess in The-World-Outside, but, quite obviously, there was absolutely nothing to do. Garanol was well aware of this even before he’d been sealed inside it.

He sighed. So far, his record was approximately seven million, eight-hundred and twenty-two thousand, four-hundred and twenty…

Garanol had to rack his brains for a moment before he mentally added five to his score. Give or take three-quarters, if anyone wanted to be technical.

He supposed the only saving grace about his existence was that he wouldn’t be bored for long...in his opinion. A normal person wouldn’t have time to be bored in his position. They’d just be dead. “Ho-hum,” Garanol sighed again as he stared up (or was it down? Or left or right?) into the vast blackness of The-World-Outside. “I would have thought the Centurion Stones would have failed by now. Humph. I must be growing older than I expected.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, however, he felt a familiar tugging in the back of his mind, like a very mild headache that didn’t hurt so much as it called out to him from the void. Garanol turned around, facing the direction the sensation had permeated from.

Age, maturity, and experience had tempered his rationality. The first time he had felt the sensation, he had stumbled blindly forward, not knowing what to expect. The second time, he had run forward like a crazed fool, practically tripping over his own cloak. The third time, he had marched toward the feeling, becoming a father cornering his child after he learned they were up to mischief when his back was turned.

Now he merely walked, slowly and patiently, his fingers tented. Calm, cool, and calculated.

In time, and after a few paces (or maybe it had been several miles? Yards? Perhaps an entire continent? It was hard to tell), Garanol found what he had been seeking, what had been calling him: a massive portal, the raw stuff of magic encircling its mouth. It was blurred, though, like a mirror that had been left alone for years, grime and dust accruing on its surface, and yet, this portal stood as the only beacon of light in the darkness. Through it, Garanol could see something familiar: earthly browns and the grey of stone, though the shapes lacked detail. He could only see their rough rectangular shapes. He didn’t much care, however.

“...Finally. It certainly took long enough,” he muttered bitterly. He settled into a battling pose, his left arm and leg out in front while his right appendages attached themselves to his back in a defense-ready posture. He wound up his right hand.

“This time…”

Garanol stepped forward, and punched. Like a mirror, the portal cracked, sending echoes all around The-World-Outside-The-World.

“I will not fail my mission!”

He punched again, and more cracks ran along the portal from every conceivable edge. But still, it held.

“So send your armies!”

He punched, and the cracks became more pronounced.

“Send your servants!”

Another blow, and the mirror became covered in shimmering cracks like ripples on a rough lake.

“Raise the dead…”

Parts of the portal shattered, sending screeching echoes across the vast nothing as another punch landed.

“And send your ancient champions, if you want!”

He was right up against the portal now, and he laid his hands across its surface. The portal began to shatter and break as if on reflex.

“I’ll destroy them all!”

A violent thrumming sound echoed across the nothingness outside of reality, and the portal began to quake. Garanol was screaming so violently, it sounded like his throat would give out before he was done.

“I will take back what is mine! Do you hear me, Yori!? Ceri!?”

Garanol reared back, and his eyes suddenly lost all their detail. In place of irises was a roaring void of white. He snapped his head down, releasing a beam of searing energy from his mouth, and it screamed across the void. When it hit the portal, what remaining glassy substance exploded, sending shards of crystalized energy hurtling into the space between worlds, and the light grew so intense that, for a brief moment, The-World-Outside-The-World was lit up in bright white, and a single screeching phrase echoed across time and space.

“The Ishken Necklace is MINE…!”

Chapter Text

Everything was warm. That was good. Somewhere, on a grassy gnoll, someone was waking up.

Again.

He was groggy, but then, everyone is when they open their eyes to greet the morning. However, it was that strange kind of tired, the tired of someone who was so invested in their dream that they wake up confused, alone, and maybe even a little hurt; that moment when they can’t remember why or how they exist. But as the seconds wore away, he remembered. He was Klonoa, and…

He blinked a couple times and shut his eyes tight and shook his head. “Mmph… not again,” he murmured. He’d forgotten. He’d forgotten everything except the same sinking feeling that he’d been somewhere else only moments before. At first, it had been heartbreaking when he’d had a faint flash of something that felt like a memory. Now, it was just getting a little annoying...while still being sad. That feeling kind of sucked, and Klonoa didn’t like it. He wouldn’t have any choice whether he liked it or not, of course, so the best thing to do was to accept it and move on. At least he was good at that.

Klonoa sat up and got a good look around. He’d been fast asleep under a large tree, and off to his left was the edge of a forest extending beyond the horizon, with spare trees all across the plains. In the other direction was, what he guessed, was a town just on the edge of another forest, and the sun was peeking over the trees. “...Wow…” he whispered to himself breathlessly. “It’s...really beautiful!”

And just like that, the veil of sorrow was lifted again. Klonoa found it hard to stay depressed on such a beautiful morning. He quickly dropped the smile and looked around. “But why am I all alone?” He knew, almost instinctively, that something was off. He knew his mission; it was the one thing he never forgot, and perhaps some lingering subconscious memory was telling him there should be more. Klonoa took a more pensive stance, leaning on one leg and he scratched his chin. Is there supposed to be someone waiting to fill me in on what’s happening? he wondered to himself.

Klonoa lost a couple minutes to staring out across the fields of grass rippling in the early morning breeze before he brought his grin back. “Ah, well! Just a good excuse to wander around and take in the sights, I guess!” He wasted no time in taking off down the hill, and across the dales echoed an enthusiastic “Wahoo…!”

At most, it took Klonoa ten minutes to reach the small town, and on the whole, it seemed quite nice: the houses were built of wood and mortar and arranged close together, lending a sense of community to all of it. There was only one thing wrong…

Klonoa had only seen...two people outside so far. That was it.

He certainly didn’t feel threatened, but he knew there was something wrong, and neither of the two citizens seemed to want to meet his gaze. They looked like they had something more pressing on their minds. Klonoa had something more important to think about, too. “I really need a map,” he said as he studied a signpost. He looked it over one more time before giving up and continuing down the street. He was surrounded on all sides by townhouses with a business of some sort built into the bottom floor, almost all of them empty. “This place isn’t familiar at all.”

“Well, you’re new.”

Klonoa stopped and glanced across the street to see an older man sweeping the patio of a restaurant, and his eyes were trained right on him. “We don’t get ‘new’ around here very often. You lost?”

Klonoa was frozen in place for only a second before he spoke up. “Uh...yeah. A little bit. Where am I?”

“This town’s called ‘Lurbost,’” he replied, looking back down to sweep the deck.

“Uh, okay...where exactly is Lurbost located?” Klonoa asked again.

The man glanced up a bit suddenly, as if taken off-guard by Klonoa’s question. There was something that looked like inquisitiveness on his face, but it didn’t linger. “The island country of Muloonala. We-” He stopped himself short when he saw what was attached to Klonoa’s waist by a special kind of strap: a solid gold ring, tipped by a green jewel. The man looked back up and continued in a rather slow tone, “Why d’you ask?”

“Oh, I just wanted to know which world I’m in. Usually, someone tells me after I arrive somewhere, but I didn’t see anyone nearby when I woke up this morning. Except this town, of course,” Klonoa answered with a nonchalant smile.

“...The world’s name is Fanoteya,” the man articulated. “What’s your name, kid?”

“I’m Klonoa!” he stated as he stood up straight and put his hands on his hips. “The Dream Traveller!”

The man’s eyes widened a bit, but he averted his gaze off to the east and quickly replied, “Well, that explains a lot. Reason you probably didn’t see anyone outside today’s because we could all see some sort of pillar of light comin’ from the Sealing Shrine. Buncha rumors about something real nasty being confined inside it, and now everyone says it’s escaped and they’re all fearin’ for their lives.”

“Oh.” Klonoa’s shoulders slumped and his grin faded a bit. “Sounds scary.”

“Mm-hmm.” The man leaned on his broom and recited, “Thing is, some old legends state a stranger would show up one day, and all we knew for sure was that they were part of the blessed race...and you fit the description to a ‘T,’ my little friend.” He then pointed out to the east. “Listen, if you follow the road outta town, you’ll find a port city. Get on one of the ferries that goes to Vonio. It’s the capital city of Selsis, pretty hard to miss. You’ll want to look for a place called, ‘The First International Archive.’ They’ll be able to tell you more than I probably could’ve.”

Klonoa tilted his head inquisitively. “Huh. Sounds like a library,” he mused.

“It is,” the man said, “but it’s a library that takes up several city blocks and it’s just as tall. I tell you, kid, they got everything in there.”

He was still young, and the thought of libraries didn’t really excite him that much, but still, the way the man had phrased it and the fact that Klonoa was still sort of lost made the idea of visiting the Archive even more intriguing. Klonoa nodded, turned, and started running as he called “Thanks, mister!” over his shoulder.

The temple antechamber was quiet, and only the wind sifting through the windows high above the bannisters and catwalks made any sound, a low droning echoing around the lofty chamber. Only one person was inside, a woman, sitting quietly on a throne at the end of the room. This silence was broken by the massive double doors creaking as they opened, and slowly, timidly, another girl shuffled into the room. The older woman on the chair looked up to meet her eyes and she smiled serenely. “Lolo...I’m glad to see you arrive so soon…”

Lolo, the younger priestess dressed in a brimless cap and one-piece dress colored almost fully pink, looked up to meet her superior. “Of course, High Priestess!” she replied almost at once. “It would be rude to refuse your call!”

The High Priestess sighed and nodded. Lolo had been initiated years ago, still a child, practically, but even after all this time, she carried a sense of duty and respect for her role. The High Priestess paused to consider her words before she said, “And do you happen to know why…?”

Lolo glanced off to the side, as if embarrassed by her next sentence. “...Because it’s time for my, um...my initiation ritual to full priestesshood...?” she proposed quietly.

“Well, yes...and no,” the High Priestess replied, trying to suppress a chuckle. Lolo’s previous embarrassed expression faded and was quickly replaced with...well, something. Probably a mix of intrigue and caution. She breathed in and continued, “I...received a vision...only last night. Of the clouds parting as I walked...in the temple garden.” Lolo was, by now, listening quite intently. She’d heard that the more advanced priestesses could have small bouts of prophecy, but nothing like what the High Priestess described. “And high above me, I saw the moon...and as I looked, a ring of brilliant yellow flared to life around it, burning through the night, shining down on me.” She let her words hang in the air for another moment before she said, “The Archfiend has escaped captivity once again.”

“What?” Lolo’s eyes shrunk and her legs began shaking entirely on their own accord. She clenched her fists in an effort to force herself to stop shaking. “B-but High Priestess, th-that’s...I thought that was just an old wives’ tale! The Archfiend’s not…?” she panted as she stared at the High Priestess, wild eyes desperately searching for confirmation and a sliver of hope to hold on to.

“I am afraid so. Not all legends might be true...but they were based in truth at one point,” she sighed. “But that is not important now.” She gestured for Lolo to come closer, which she did after a moment’s hesitation. “What is important...is that it means a new Champion is coming. Perhaps now...perhaps later. But soon, all the same. This is why...I called you.”

“R-really…?”

The High Priestess nodded. “Yes, Lolo. I am trusting you with a mission.” Before Lolo could voice her thoughts, the High Priestess continued, “Before my vision ended and I awoke, I saw Vonio, and yet its archive building towered over all the rest...I have reason to suspect the Champion will be there, or will be soon.” She rose slowly, and due to the throne being on a raised platform, it gave off the impression she towered over Lolo.

“I want you to go there, Lolo. Find the Champion and assist them. Then, your initiation as a full priestess will be complete.”

Lolo was stunned into silence. It had been...well, she couldn’t rightly remember how long it had been, exactly. Several years; four, at the very least, and now her chance to finally earn a position as a priestess of the Goddess Claire was right in front of her. She’d be a fool to turn down this chance.

“Do you accept this task, Lolo?”

“Yes!”

The High Priestess’ lips curled downward, but only slightly. “...It will not be easy. Your ideals and loyalties will be put to the ultimate test.”

That disclaimer made Lolo go back down to her normal height after she realized she’d subconsciously been standing on the balls of her feet. Her arms fell down to her sides, too and she replied in a more even voice, “...I understand.”

The High Priestess gave Lolo a quick scan with her eyes as if trying to catch any errant thoughts by her sight alone before she sighed, apparently content with Lolo’s answer, and raised her staff. “Very well. By my authority, I grant you, Apprentice Lolo, this sacred duty...Go now, and when you return successful, you shall be granted... full priestesshood.” Lolo knelt instinctively, and the High Priestess drew the staff in an arc over her head before touching the tip of the staff to it. Lolo rose slowly. The feeling was hard to describe. Sure, there was a weight on her shoulders now, but knowing what would happen when she came home made it feel...almost as light as air. She was quickly dragged out of her thoughts by another set of directions. “Go find Popka, wherever he is. Tell him what I told you...and take him with you.”

She remained in place for another second, trying to process everything that was happening before her train of thought caught up to her. “O-of course, High Priestess! I won’t let you down!” Lolo turned on her heel and jogged toward the door. In her scramble to leave for Vonio post-haste, she ended up kicking herself in the heel and then stumbled forward quite ungracefully before falling over. She managed to land on her hands and knees and quickly push herself back up before flicking her eyes right and left to be sure no one could see her blushing.

Garanol emerged from the cave of Maglant’s Bluff once again and felt the sun shining down on him. It would have been grand, if he didn’t hate bright sunlight more than people who walked too slow on a narrow sidewalk. It gave the day too much of a heroic tone. “It should be raining, with buckets of water falling from the sky, or at least overcast and windy,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

He sighed and tried not to dwell on it too long before gazing out over the land he could see. Very little had changed; perhaps the mountains downriver had been eroded a bit more by wind and time, but other than that, the vista was very much the same as the last time he’d seen it. Garanol concentrated and felt his body lift itself up into the air. He couldn’t help but feel a little more contented at that. After centuries of being imprisoned in The-World-Outside-The-World, the feeling of being able to control where he went in relation to real space and a working sense of which direction was up was a welcome reprieve.

He raised himself up until he could see the surrounding countryside, where the mountain range fell off into steppes to the southeast and where the coastline met the land to the west. Garanol surveyed the land, swinging his head left and right slowly. This world was his. It was meant to be his, by right of conquest since the first day, and while he was certain there would be someone new who tried to stop him, he made himself a promise.

“I won’t allow anyone to stand in my way now,” he cursed under his breath. He tensed himself up, almost curling into a ball before release. Snapping like a spring, he propelled himself forward, and flew south. “The first three Champions are long dead, and I will annihilate the last as I did to their predecessors.” He soared hundreds of miles over foothills and then over flat grassland, still talking to himself. “There will be no help, no respite for them. I made sure of that, with Master Yori stuck in his empire of catatonia, and Ceri’s voice has been silent since.” He continued on, for miles, before he muttered one last thing.

“Your fate is sealed, Dream Champion. It was sealed the moment you were called here.”