Lydie didn't look so tough compared to a giant carnivorous crow-demon like Malphas. In fact, she seemed to have no defensive ability whatsoever. She daintily avoided all of the monsters she crossed paths with as she tried to find her way out of Dracula's castle and reunite with Juste. Certain dark minds saw her as nothing more than a frail flower whose petals were too bright for this place and belonged crushed under their claws. Others thought of her as an unsalted slab of veal who could be crafted into a fine delicacy. And that meant she was ideal for any number of depraved arcane uses.
Lydie tiptoed through the castle hall in the company of ghostly candlelight. Her eyes were constantly full of terror. It took every nerve in her body not to faint at the sound of a mouse squeaking across the floor in the flickering light. The hallway was completely quiet except for the low crackle of magic candle wicks lining the walls. It had been too quiet for too long.
Lydie's apprehension grew as she cautiously followed a trail of crow feathers that seemed to be littered every few yards across the floor, leading her somewhere like breadcrumbs. She knew the whole thing was crazy, but it was the only sense of direction she had in this confusing and dangerous place she had been spirited off to.
Something loudly flapped just behind her. Lydie gasped and spun around to come eye-to-eye with her stalker.
The Feather Demon spread his black wings across the whole width of the dreary hallway. His outline was somewhere between a giant crow and a robed black priest. His face had the features of both a human hunter and a bird of prey. He was slightly taller than an average man, which was to say he dwarfed Lydie's lithe and demure stature.
Lydie was frozen like a doe in torchlights. Malphas gently reached out and stoked her down the cheek with a sharpened talon as she shivered for her life. He continued tracing down the laces in her choker, the indentations of her bare collarbone, the black ribbon decorating her chest, and the fragile white strings that held her bodice together.
The Feather Demon's talons abruptly flashed in the darkness. Lydie's frilled dress and all the foundations worn underneath exploded from her body in a violent but elegant woosh. Even her leather boots were somehow torn into nothingness in one fell swoop. The entire ensemble was instantly reduced to white and black scraps of frilled thread that descended slowly to the floor, leaving nothing but her unscathed creamy flesh and the white ribbon in her hair.
Lydie's vulnerability lasted for only second, as Malphas folded his wings around her entire figure in the next instant. The demon lowered his head in dark prayer as sounds of rustling and flapping came from underneath Lydie's mysterious feathered curtains. The impression the noises left were less of a helpless captive trapped in any kind of pain or embarrassment and more of a ballerina urgently preparing for a recital of Swan Lake.
The Feather Demon finished the silent incantation and lifted the black curtains.
Lydie's body had been reborn into the form of an immortal Sylph, a beautiful sorceress of air and light who devoted all of her powers to serving the dark lord. She was wearing a short black tunic for comfort and magical conductivity, and a long white feather shroud to help her keep warm. The white ribbon in her hair now sported a few small thistle twigs. Her bare feet constantly hovered an inch off the ground.
The Feather Demon rapidly flinched his neck sideways like a raven inspecting a corpse. Lydie bobbed her head toward him and giggled darkly.
Malphas stretched his wings and disappeared into a thousand feathers. Lydie ruffled her shroud and continued floating down the castle corridor by her cheerful self. The strange and once unfamiliar halls were now her new nesting ground.
Author's note: Seriously, did you see that one guy who said all future Zelda games should be written using BotW as the sole basis for all their mythology? I feel like I'm losing my goddamned mind.
