The following is a work of fan fiction by Joshua D. Tarwater and is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.*
*SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS retains full rights over the Sonic the Hedgehog™ intellectual property and can terminate or take control of this work at any time.

~EPISODE OF AMNESIA ISLAND 03~

         ★Memories.

         To many, they are the shape of the soul, what forms a person. To be without them is to be without your soul, or perhaps a new soul birthed into an old body. Then memory loss and its recovery are truly something strange, something like a dream.

         What if then your very first memory is itself a dream? Is it a memory and part of your soul? You? Or is it a desire, who you aim to become and your destiny? Perhaps life itself is a dream. One we wake to again and again, our soul a collection of those dreams fulfilled and lost. Is who we are then not dependent only on what we have gained, but also what we have lost?

Arm of Darkness
Claws of crystal
Gentle blue light
Room in cottage of brick and mud
Wooden furniture and soft mattress
Plush quilt and slight curtains
Sunlight and birdsong
A dream over

         Life is hard. There are challenges and trials, tribulations and failures. But life is also full of beginnings and opportunities, chances to start anew and give things another shot. Sometimes though it is hard to see when you’ve fallen, and that is where the boy under the quilt now lay.

         He flexed the fingers of his right arm, and the crystal fingertips responded as he was sure they should. He was certain though that most arms were not things of pure Darkness. To check he sat up and swung his legs out of bed, letting them dangle over the side. Holding up his left arm he found the evidence he sought, as his left was neither made of Darkness nor swelled to an unnatural size.

         The black hedgehog boy’s left arm was not free of crystals like the fingertips of his right however as a small cluster grew from the top of his wrist towards his forearm. They were matched by similar clusters growing from his ankles. They were far from the only crystals either growing from his body as his head and back spines grew short, large crystals replacing their ends. And then there was the massive spike of crystal that burst out of his chest as though a great crystal spear had been thrust through him from behind. Yet none of them hurt or hindered his movement, and as he tested them he could only ponder.

       “I guess this is… normal… …?”

         His voice was as youthful as his face suggested, yet there was an unsure air hanging onto him, the blue light from his crystals shifting to a light purple.

         The hedgehog boy was confused, and nothing was making any sense. He had knowledge and understanding, he could even understand the nature of the room he was in, but there was nothing beyond that. No sense of self and he shuddered and closed his eyes hopeful to center himself. What he saw did not do as such though.

         In the darkness of his eyelids, a dream came back to the hedgehog boy. It was not much different from the back of his eyelids, but the Darkness was far, far deeper, and infinitely more complete. Save the shape of a girl. It was not quite complete, and her form moved as though an inadequate amount of liquid was trying to imitate her actual form with several momentary breaks appearing all over regularly. She was just a remnant, but from her body of liquid shadow a golden light called out to the boy with a warmth that filled his world and he reached for her with the Darkness that was his arm.

         “That’s not helping,” the boy conceded and opened his eyes as he stood up, bracing his arms against the bed, and hopping off.

         There was a problem however and the purple glow of his crystals grew more vivid as sparks of red electricity began to appear within.

         “Okay, that’s not normal!” the boy near panicked, his heart in his throat as he looked back at his now stretched right arm clinging to the bed still. Panicked as he was growing however, he was curious.

         Stepping away from the bed, the hedgehog boy made sure not to let go, and carefully, he let his arm keep stretching as he moved towards the door of the room. Regardless of how far he moved though, the arm seemed to have no problem continuing to stretch as though there was no limit to its mass. Even the dripping of the liquid Darkness from his arm, which dissipated in black motes of Darkness without ever reaching the ground, did not seem to reduce its mass.

         Swallowing, the boy let go of the bed with his right arm at last, and his arm simply waited where it was stretched to. Being Darkness that even light vanished into it was impossible to tell if it was under any strain, but it moved freely as the boy commanded it, even wriggling like a snake if he so wanted. As his arm fascinated him, the purple glow from his crystals once more gave way to a soft blue light and he even experimented with recalling and stretching his arm. It was a thing of wonder, and perhaps not as bad as his initial panic made him believe. A panic that distracted him from the problem of his absence of memory.

         “Right…

         “…

         “I guess I should have a look around and see if there is anything here that… that… that I guess tells me who I am, and maybe what.”

         With one last look at his right arm, the hedgehog boy took a deep breath and readied himself. Soon he was on his way from the room, nothing within seeming to imply it more than a guest room and thus lacking in personal effects. The tunnel like hall was little different, but the girl’s room in the direction he traveled was very different. It was full of torn dresses and other clothes in some degree or other of repair and full of flowers and pillows alongside hand crafted stuffed animals. It was a mess that was waiting for attention, but the boy found it too overwhelming and private to linger long and ducked back out with his heart pounding and the purple light returned to his crystals.

         “Okay, so someone else is living here. There’s no way that has anything to do with me!”

         “Hmm?” a kindly old woman’s voice asked from further up the hall. “Are you actually awake, Tempest? If so, please join me.”

         “Tempest,” the boy asked. “Is that me?”

         Curiosity and wariness left the light from his crystals a pale purple and the boy followed the tunnel like hallway towards a light at it’s end and around a soft curve. Entering the light, a kitchen at home in a farm cottage opened itself up to him with a low wall separating it from what looked to be a great room and foyer. The large wood-topped island that held a second sink and a simple AM/FM radio in a wood case served as an additional barrier between the boy and the old hen woman knitting in a rocking chair in the great room. She was clearly dressed for gardening in her red scarf, white shirt, long green skirt, and cream-colored apron, but she seemed content knitting. Her brown feathers did not well hide her elderly state, but her green eyes were full of a great deal of life and mirth as she looked at the boy who arrived in the kitchen.

         “You really are up! Such a pleasure to meet you, Tempest!” the old hen greeted with a warm smile at the corner of her beak as she put down her knitting and rose from her rocking chair. Crossing over into the kitchen, she apologized with a tender chuckle. “Well, that may not actually be your name. I’m certain Nana the Hen isn’t mine, but Rosy is quick to name people you see. She started calling you Tempest because when she found you washed up on the beach it was as she was expecting a storm to blow in. She also insisted it was better than me calling you the Black Hedgehog.

         “Oh dear,” Nana laughed at herself. “Listen to this old woman prattle on. You look so lost I hope I didn’t confuse you.”

         “Um, no ma’am,” the boy replied, before scratching at the back of his ear with his right hand. “Actually, you answered most of my questions before I even had a chance to ask any. Um… Thank you.”

         “So polite,” Nana chuckled and moved towards the sink below the curtained window set between oven and stove top. “And so timid compared to Rosy who’s just full of so much energy. Mind, that’s not her name either. Just like me she arrived on Amnesia Island naked and with no memory of who she was. I call her Rosy though because she’s nothing but cheerful and optimistic. She’s a massive help around these parts too for an older woman like me. Don’t let that fool you though, she’s quite the troublemaker too. A real rascal!”

         “Rosy the Rascal, huh?” the boy replied and smiled gently, even as his crystals continued to cast a purple light. “And I guess then that would make me Tempest the Black.”

         “Oh, so you’re accepting it,” Nana noted as she looked over from placing a tea pot on the stove top. “Then you’ve lost your memories too after all. I suppose Amnesia Island claims it’s third victim that I know.

         “But why drop Hedgehog?”

         “It just seemed kind of long,” Tempest laughed and continued to scratch at the back of his ear. “I hope you aren’t offended.”

         “Not at all,” Nana laughed. “After all, I’m the one who casually called you by a name you may not have even accepted. I should be apologizing myself. Perhaps some tea will do the trick, though I need to take a moment to get some more firewood.”

         “It’s not electric?” Tempest asked as he looked at the range and oven flanking the sink and window. Looking back at the radio on the kitchen island he explained his thought process, “I thought maybe since the radio and the lights in the hallway…”

         “I’m afraid I don’t have much electricity. But I suppose Rosy can show you around when she gets back. For now, though, if it’s not too much, perhaps you can help this old woman save a trip or two.”

         “Of-of course!”

         It was not much of a chore, and Tempest’s unusual arm amazed him and Nana both. Soon they were seated at the kitchen island on stools across from each other waiting on the tea. 

         “I can hardly believe how useful that arm is,” Nana mused as she studied Tempest. She smiled gently though as his eyes were on the front door of her hill buried abode, his mind elsewhere. “Though I suppose like Rosy, your eyes are like the color of the open sky. You’re both adventurers at heart.”

         “Wha-what?” Tempest asked at the sudden shift in Nana’s tone.

         “Nothing, just I suspect that you’ll both leave this old woman all alone, and we’ve only just met.”

         The laughter that rose out of Nana was relieving and Tempest’s crystals did not lose their blue light since it returned. “You seem to be a bit of a fun-loving person yourself Nana.”

         “I’m certain it’s just Rosy rubbing off on me,” Nana waved away the idea. “I’m more than happy to enjoy a good book when not tending to my garden. Though Rosy has definitely found me many more that would have never found there way to my collection due to her exploration of the island. I’m far from as daring as that rascal.”

         “You keep mentioning her, and I saw a girl’s room back in the hall…,” Tempest trailed off and scratched at his check with a crystal fingertip as he realized that he probably should not have revealed that.

         “Saw her mess of a room did you,” Nana smiled mischievously. “It’s more of a nest than a room, but she’s at that age even if her mind hasn’t realized it. But she keeps the rest of the house brilliantly tidy. Still, it’s better if you meet her than listen to me.”

         Standing up Nana made for the front door and opened it. “You have that same look in your eyes, one craving adventure. So go satisfy it and I’ll have supper ready for both of you when you return.”