Catalyst, or, Ghost Princess
Disclaimer: I don't own anything of Legend of Zelda. This story was written – rather hastily, I must admit – to answer the plot hole: if Zelda's body vanished when she gave her life energy to Midna, how exactly did Ganondorf get her body in time for the final battle? Rule of Cool being an insufficient answer, I set to work on a little story. Thanks for reading and for the kind reviews on my earlier works!
It was a little before sunrise in Hyrule. In the Eldin, Faron, and Ordona provinces, the stars were revolving slowly, and in the revolutions, the eastern sky was turning a faint, cloud-lit blue.
In the vast Lanayru province, the sky, sickened by perpetual twilight, gave no indication of what time of day it was, but only bled a half-light onto the fields and rivers. Until, that is, a little before sunrise, at which point a wolf succeeded in gathering the final Tear of Light and restored the blighted Spirit Lanayru.
When the Tears of Light were dropped into the spring, the sky's strange colorations were punctured by the pinpricks of starlight, and then faded as if they never were. The wolf who had found the Tears was nowhere to be found – in his place there stood a youth, who looked around him and smiled slightly to see the Twilight gone. Meanwhile, lurking under the shadow of the rocky ledge where the youth stood, there was a smaller shadow, who regarded the cavern around her with one red and yellow eye, and gave a petulant yawn.
At this same time, most residents of Hyrule Castle Town were asleep – except for Princess Zelda. Insomnia had kept her awake with only intermittent naps for the duration of the curse on the land, and now she was driven to desperate lengths. She had now read every single book in her bookshelf, including the long-dreaded A Geometrical and Philosophical Exploration of the Formations of Other Worlds and their Positions Relative to Ourselves and the Triforce, by Soporison the Wise. Never before had Zelda read this book the whole way through, and now she remembered why.
… but this theory opposes the 'Oocca' legend (popular in the 3rd century S. C., but waning in credibility since), and when confronted with this fallacy, Silverhand re-imagined his entire schemata of the 'Harp Diagram' theory, rewriting it so that the imagined 'Wind Fish' did not travel on narrow channels between each universe, but that rather the universes amalgamate in a 'goose-egg' shape and that the Wind Fish…
Soporison's philosophies weren't doing their intended job: Zelda was still awake. Not very awake, but she was awake enough to realize she was, indeed, still awake, and awake enough to mutter irritably at the book:
"Gods bless you, Soporison, but I think you fail to realize that sentences do, indeed, end at some point…Why don't I have any books about fencing, fighting, or true love? I have a boring library. I must be a boring person…"
She looked at the other books in her shelf – a well-thumbed volume of antiquated hero's adventures stood within reach, but since Midna and Link's visit, the antique tales of bygone days seemed insipid compared to the knowledge that an adventure was happening right now. Besides, she was too tired to reach for it.
Now she bent over her book again, to compare the harp diagram of the various worlds with the ocarina diagram. It was at this moment that a wind brushed aside a cloud in the east, and Zelda squinted and held up her hand to protect her eyes from being struck by a knife-like burst of sunlight.
It was a moment before she realized that there was sunlight to strike her eyes in the first place – sunlight coming in from the east. Zelda jumped up, the book completely forgotten.
She stepped hesitantly, unbelievingly, to the window. The sky was blue, and light was stretching over the walls of the town and into Zelda's room. She stood there for a long time, simply absorbing the warmth and the light into her skin, looking at her room as if for the first time. How beautiful it all was!
It wasn't long before the townspeople were up, also awakened by the sunlight, and they stood in the streets in wonder, much as Zelda stood at her window. Then the town square's musicians got out their instruments and played a cheerful tune. Zelda watched as the people went about their business with smiles, many still taking upward glances at the blue sheen of the sky. She longed to go out onto her balcony and greet them, like a proper princess, but Zant was still in the castle, as far as she knew, and her power could not match him. Not alone.
Not alone. Again Zelda thought of the imp, Midna, and the hero in his wolf shape. 'They must be all right, then,' she thought, 'and they've restored all four of the Light Spirits. All will be well.'
"All will be well," she said out loud. Now she had only to wait until Link and Midna returned to help her overthrow Zant once and for all.
For now, though, she could not ask for more. She walked to her bed, nodding a little, in time with the beat of the low drum far below. Then she lay down, loosening her cloak for a blanket, and for the first time in a long while, fell into a deep sleep.
The sun had run its daily course and was beginning to sink over the Western Desert when Zelda had her first visitor – a surreptitious shadow that zipped over the town's buildings, unseen to all except for a few stray nightingales, and one sharp-eyed cat. The shadow found Zelda's window without hesitation, and peered inside. Not seeing Zelda, the shadow balked and disappeared from sight –
Only to reappear inside Zelda's room, looking around with one large eye.
"Did something happen –" the shadow imp started to say, when she spotted Zelda asleep on the bed, still wrapped in her dark cloak. Midna floated over Zelda, just to make sure that she was merely sleeping. Satisfied, Midna left the room, leaving no sign of her visit, and decided that she would come back later, after Link had escorted Prince Fishy or whatever his name was to Kakariko Village. Well, she'd come back sooner or later.
Zelda slept dreamlessly, at least, at first. Then, her mind suddenly opened to an image of herself, lying on her bed, eyes open. The sun had set and the moon had risen in its place in the time she was asleep.
'Well, this is a disappointment,' she thought, with a critical eye, 'I dream about lying awake. How boring. I must be a fundamentally boring person…'
Then, the door opened, and in the door walked Zant, tall and commanding – and seemingly just as physical in the light as in the Twilight.
'Oh bother, I can't even dream in peace without him barging in hearty as you please. He's insufferable,' Zelda found herself thinking, rather pleased that Zant couldn't hear her. She smirked, and then wondered, 'Is my face in shadow? Yes, yes it is. Why do I care? It's a dream.'
As Zant inspected the room casually – from the cracked mirror to the solitary chair by the window, to the book on the table – he actually became quite absorbed in the book, and appeared to be studying the diagrams intently.
'I'll lend you the book if you want,' Zelda considered saying aloud, but decided against it. She didn't want him touching her books, she wanted him gone. But his next move interested her: he stood up and ripped the diagrams out of the book. "Ocarina universe – harp universe – constructs of madness!" He snarled. "I'll bring the worlds into one beautiful, flat whole, as ordered and shapeless as the surface of glass…"
'Any minute now I'll sit up and order him out of my room for ripping my books,' Zelda thought irritably.
Now Zant moved towards the princess' bed, slowly, with measured tread. "Of course," he was saying to himself, "no revenge is complete without a personal retribution done to the wrongdoers… my lord god always says I will have my revenge… when, though, I want it now…"
Now he was standing over the bed, staring intently at Zelda, whose face was in shadow. His eyes moved over the cloaked that shrouded her -
'I won't take this, this is my dream and I won't let him ruin it,' and Zelda said flatly, "I can see you, you know."
Zant jumped back, his hand recoiled as if he were about to touch a snake. Zelda sat up on the bed.
"And for that matter, these books are mine and you can't tear them up. Furthermore, you're becoming a very tiresome dream and I wish you'd change."
Even as Zelda spoke, her imperial voice, which was fine when commanding her dream-companions, started to break down. Her sense that the encounter was a dream began to fade.
Zant did not speak for a moment, then he laughed softly and said, "You think I'm a vision, do you?"
He then raised a hand and struck Zelda hard across the face.
The slap stung, and it woke Zelda up completely. She turned to look at Zant. The hand which had struck her was glowing, covered with strange red patterns – but no other part of him had those same patterns. Zelda, thinking quickly, decided to try something, to gather an idea of her opponent.
She sat back up, clenched her hands together and whispered a spell. When she drew her hands apart, a small fireball hung crackling between her hands. By the light it threw off, she saw Zant's helmet clearly – she also saw the wall and table on the other side of her room through his body.
'He's not physical,' she thought. 'Only the parts of him with the red seals are manifest at this moment.' She also noted, with pleasure, 'And I've got some of my magic back.'
"What are you trying to prove, Princess?" Zant hissed. "You can throw a little light into my shadow – hah!"
With that, he grabbed at the flame with his physical hand and snuffed it out, appearing to feel no pain. Before Zelda could react, he next grabbed her shoulder and threw her onto the floor.
The red seals dissipated from his hand and reassembled onto his foot, and he pressed that foot upon Zelda's head.
"I am still more powerful than you," he moved his foot to deliver a fierce kick to Zelda's abdomen. "I can still deliver horrors upon you without exertion to myself, because my god is my power, and therefore my power is limitless."
Zelda, on the floor, full of anger and pride, realized how very weak she was. She hadn't eaten for a long time, and the room had spun when Zant had pushed her head into the floor. She ran over a list of defensive spells, something that did not require more power than she could muster…
"But I will be kind," Zant continued, lifting his foot. He used the toe of his shoe to point Zelda's face so that she looked at him. "I will be generous. I will leave you in your solitude – if you give me something."
Zelda clenched her jaw, and tried to sit up. Zant put his foot on her midsection and forced her down.
'I won't give him anything, not a thing,' she promised herself.
"I don't need much," he continued, "just a few words. Even one word would do. What I want –"
And here Zant got onto one knee, and leaned forward, so that his helmet was directly over her head.
"I need the name. The name of the one who is helping the Hero of Time."
Zelda said nothing.
"I know he had help, he must have. I will brush him out of the way in time, but who aids him? Who is pulling the strings to make the puppet dance? Tell me."
Zelda looked away from Zant.
"You know who it is. What do you wish to gain? Protection for this divine helper? You mustn't assume that I have no idea who it is – there are some names I could summon up, and my god has given me others. Could it be Navi? He named that one once. He named tribes that could have helped him. One of the Oocca? The Picori? Perhaps someone by the name of Ezlo? I could go on."
Zelda closed her eyes.
"Look at me!" He commanded.
At the same moment, he pressed his shoe onto her chest. Zelda felt a burning pain on her chest, and she pushed at the foot with all her might – but her hands had no strength in them. She dropped them back, all the time repeating in her head, 'I won't tell him anything, I won't say anything at all.'
Zant's foot dematerialized, and now his right hand swooped down and grabbed Zelda's hair, yanking her up from the floor. "Don't make this worse, Princess," he hissed, "because I can make this much worse for you. Just one word. One name and I will leave you in peace."
Zelda opened her eyes and looked at Zant. "You can give me no peace."
Zant lifted her higher in the air. Zelda clenched her jaw – she thought her hair would come out by the roots. Zant barked, "Give me the name!"
Zelda said nothing.
With a snarl, Zant threw her into the chair that sat in front of the mirror. He moved away from Zelda, into a corner of the room – now all that she could make out of him was his helmet, gleaming in the moonlight.
'The helmet is there,' she thought, 'which means it must be supported by something. Perhaps his head is physical, but unable to withstand an attack – that's it, then –'
Zelda summoned up as much of her power as she could spare, and whispered a new, forceful spell. Interlacing her fingers, she stood up and braced herself. When she reached the last word of the spell, she stepped forward, and pointed her fingers at Zant's head, sending a green jet of magic straight at his head.
The helmet flew off of his shoulders, and fell with a clatter on the floor. Zant staggered backward, into the shadows, where Zelda could only make out his vague form. Yes, his head was more solid than the rest of his body – and Zelda was about to prepare a spell to attack it when Zant lifted his head.
Zelda could not see his face, but she did see two eyes shining through the darkness of the room - eyes which confounded Zelda. She felt faint all of a sudden, and thought, for a moment, that she was seeing the yellow and red eyes from another face, a face from this very room –
"Mid –"
She stopped herself, grabbed at her mouth with her hands, remembered where she was, but it was too late.
The room steadied itself. She realized that she was looking at Zant's eyes in the shadows, and not Midna's.
But it was too late.
There was a silence in the room, punctuated only by Zelda's breathing, which was becoming quick and anxious.
Zant began to laugh in a low, punctuated chortle. His hand, still covered in red seals, made a sweeping motion, and the helmet flew off of the ground. Lifting his hand, Zant replaced the helmet on his head, his laughter becoming tinned and muffled.
"Someday, if you really wish it, you shall see my face without the helmet," he said, "But wait until there is better light. I want you to fully appreciate what I've done to myself in service of my god."
He stepped forward. Zelda took a cautious step backwards, wondering how far it was from here to the doorway of the room, how far from a window that opened onto a rooftop, how far away she could get…
Zant took another step forward. "I do believe you said something just a minute ago – when you saw my eyes, was it? Do I remind you of someone?" His hand swept from right to left and Zelda felt her hair being grabbed by an unseen force.
"Well, do I, Princess?" He lifted his hand and Zelda's head was pulled back. She clenched her jaw and suppressed a shriek – and then Zant's actual hand grabbed her head and he dragged her to the mirror, the one with the crack in it, on her vanity.
For a moment Zant merely inspected the mirror, and Zelda heard him mutter, "I should have recognized it as soon as I entered… this thing is reeking with her magic…"
Then he lifted his head back and called in a strange language – from the shadows three small dark beasts came, with plates on their faces. He barked a command at them, and instantly one latched onto Zelda's feet, another onto her hands, set to attention behind her, and another onto her neck. They squirmed and clawed at her, and she didn't dare move.
"Now, let's see if this gets any reaction from your highness…" Zant said, and then began chanting a low spell in a language that Zelda did not recognize. Before she could place it, Zant finished the spell. With a ball of red energy floating between his hands, he stepped back and cast the ball at the mirror.
Zelda braced herself for an explosion, but none came.
"Look!" Zant cried, and Zelda opened her eyes to see that the mirror was now pervaded with inky blackness. She saw a vague form emerge from the center – then, in a moment, the image clarified itself and Zelda stared in horror:
She recognized the unmistakable Midna, only without her helmet, staggering, clutching a wall for support. Her back was to Zelda, and the Hylian princess could hear her ragged breathing. Midna-in-the-mirror turned her head, and Zelda gasped to see that the side of her face that had been covered by the helmet now was crossed by a gash, which dribbled a blue liquid down her face. Midna's remaining eye looked all around her fearfully.
Zelda heard, as if from far away, Midna's voice crying for help – but in a different language, that same one that Zant had used before, when summoning the monsters.
Then there was another sound – a low, guttural growling. Zelda heard it, and Midna did too – the sound made the imp start and scramble closer to the wall –
The growling came closer, and a beast entered the mirror.
'But it's not a beast,' Zelda realized, 'It's…'
"Link?" Midna had realized the same thing. She called in a hesitating voice, "Link, is it you? It's me, Mid—"
The wolf came closer, and now Zelda tensed with fear. There was no gentleness in the wolf's eyes, only madness and hunger. Midna in the mirror screamed as he approached. She tried to run away, but with a bark that was like a roar, the wolf pounced – and Zant said,
"That's enough."
The image in the mirror faded. Zant waved his hand, and red seals covered every inch of the mirror's surface, and Zelda felt heat coming from the mirror. She leaned away from the glass in her chair, as far away as she could.
Zant, clenching his fist, said "I'll see to it that she never comes in that way again!"
Zelda watched, agape, as the mirror turned red-hot and melted before her eyes, softening and bending before turning into a shapeless blob that seeped down the edges of the little table. She drew in her feet – the little monster that was stationed on her ankles squalled and bit her with dull teeth, but she paid him no heed – and the ooze that had once been her mirror cooled and hardened into a shapeless black mass that completely covered her vanity.
Zant reached forward, and with his hand, struck at the melted glass. Zelda flinched as shards scattered on the floor. Zant pulled his hand away, clutching a sharp piece shaped like an arrowhead. He held it in his hand, weighing it, tossing it, like a stone he might throw, and then barked a command to his monsters, who scurried off of Zelda and into the shadows.
"So," he said in a low voice, "it is Midna."
Zelda said nothing, but stared as hard she could at the floor, not looking at Zant.
"I thank you for that piece of information, Princess. Though, I'm interested in your choice of helpers – Midna is one of us Twili, you know. Did you summon her? Or did she come to you of her own volition?"
Zelda was silent.
"Knowing her…" Zant mused, "she probably thought she'd take the upper hand by gaining your support. She likes to have the advantage over people – use the element of surprise – tell me, what do you know of Midna?"
Zelda continued staring ahead. "I know she is a good person. She wants to restore her world and the people that you destroyed." Zelda paused, then added, "She can't stand it when people wallow in self-pity."
Zant laughed. "You have an interesting picture of her, your highness – but I think you're missing a few key details. Allow me to enlighten you on the true nature of your little 'friend'…"
Zelda heard a whirring clickclickclickclick noise. She looked up to see that the metal tongue on Zant's helmet was retracting. This opening revealed a pointed chin and a mouth that was closed now, but smirking in an arrogant, supreme way.
Zant stepped behind Zelda, so that she could no longer see him. He bent over until his mouth was by her left ear, and spoke even more softly than before.
"My old crony Midna," he said, "is a lying, scheming, hateful little witch who never had a thought in her life for anyone other than herself. I, who have known her since her birth, have never known her to be anything but selfish, vain, cruel, and a coward."
"That's not true…" Zelda heard herself say.
Zant's voice grew harsh. "The day her mother died – and I tell you the absolute truth – as her mother lay dying, Midna threw a fit and screamed to high heaven. Why? Because no one was paying attention to her. She hates your world and its inhabitants, and would serenely see you all cast down and destroyed. That, I assure you, is your ally."
"You're lying," Zelda whispered, her eyes closed.
"We shall see who is lying and who is not," Zant snickered. "Wait and see. She'll enchant your Hero into being her little slave, and trick our tribe's magic away from the Light Spirits. When she's all done, she'll delightedly hand me everything if I restore her to her former beauty – "
'Beauty?' Zelda asked mentally.
"But she's wrong if she thinks I'll comply with her when she's re-assembled her little Shadows… She's dreadfully mistaken… another thing about Midna is, she has no respect for anyone under the skies. I shall show her the meaning of respect, and she'll be better off for the knowledge…"
Zant stepped away. "And now, your highness, I will carry out the duty which my lord god has trusted to me…"
"Your lord and god," Zelda repeated, "there are only three gods, and they are Din, Farore, and Nayru."
"Quiet!" Zant barked. "You shall see firsthand the power of my god, and you too shall respect him!"
Zelda looked around her. "What, is he going to come in the window?" She turned to look Zant in the face, even if all of his face was covered except for his mouth. "Your lord and god must fear me, if he will not risk his own life…"
"Don't be so insolent, Princess." Zant raised his chin arrogantly. "He knows that he needs only a servant such as myself to overpower you. Why waste his time on something so insignificant?" He gave a wide, mocking smile.
Zelda recoiled when she saw his mouth – in place of teeth, his gums were connected with some stringing glue, like spider's web. Zant laughed, his disgusting mouth widening even further.
"Yes," he whispered, "that was the first thing that my god asked for in tribute – in proof of my loyalty to him. My teeth, that's what I gave him… that was the first thing I gave…"
He leaned closer to Zelda, "For he is a hard master, and difficult to please… it is not easy serving the greatest of gods… Ganondorf."
An alarm bell of recognition went off in Zelda's head – Ganondorf, he was someone from long ago, someone from a story, but what?
She was so busy trying to force herself to remember the name Ganondorf, that she did not notice Zant lifting his right hand, which still clutched a shard of hardened glass from her mirror. With sudden force he grabbed her left wrist – Zelda turned and tried to pull away – he muttered a spell and – Zelda screamed – her Triforce suddenly glowed white, burning like fire on her hand.
Now she saw the shard in his hand, which was starting to glow with red patterns. With a gasp of laughter, Zant stabbed the shard into her hand, in the center of her Triforce.
The energy in the room completely changed – wind began to spiral around the two figures, and Zelda thought she saw fire springing from her hand.
'I must contact Midna and Link,' she thought, 'immediately –' and she tried to pull her hand away – and fainted.
She came back to in a minute, and was alert instantly of the fact that she did not feel any pain in her hand. She looked up and saw Zant standing over her, his mouth smirking.
"Well, Princess," he said, "Notice anything?"
Zelda thought for a second, whether to speak challengingly or calmly. She chose a combination. "I notice only that whatever you have attempted on me has obviously failed."
"Oh, really?" was all that Zant said in reply. "What's that on the floor there?"
Zelda looked. It was her left-hand glove, bloodied and torn beside her – Zant must have pulled it off in the struggle. She thought it a small price to pay as she reached to take it – and froze, speechless.
Through her ungloved hand she could see the stone floor, her torn glove, and the blood staining it. She sat back, numbly unaware that Zant was leaving the room, only noticing when he called from outside of the door,
"I'll be seeing Midna and your precious Hero soon – I'll send them your love."
Zelda looked up and saw her own body floating in the doorway, waving at her – like a marionette, with a dead expression – with a bloody left hand. Silently she watched as Zant led her body away. She looked again at her own transparent hand and wondered, 'How come I'm not dead, with my soul and body separate?'
And then she slumped against the wall, deciding that she didn't care enough to answer herself.
She looked toward her bed – where her cloak still lay – and decided it would be a nice garb in which to hide her insubstantiality. As soon as she had enough energy to put it on.
'All that I can do is wait,' she thought, 'I'll wait until Midna and Link return. When they come back, everything will be all right.'
And so Zelda's spirit waited in the room, waited for a hero, for a catalyst.
Zant climbed the steps to the tower, his large red eyes wide with excitement beneath his helmet. Behind him he levitated the body of the princess, with eyes closed and hands dangling, her mouth open just a little. Zant was not sloppy with the body, but took care to maneuver her around corners and sharp objects – Ganondorf might not be pleased with a bruised princess.
Zant hurried his way up the castle steps, avoiding the windows, which allowed crisp morning sunlight to stream into the hallways. He climbed up and up stairs until he reached the wide, open proscenium which was Ganondorf's throne room. Stepping over the broken statue of Nayru that almost blocked the doorway (and giving a habitual sneer at the stone face with the curl of wind coming from its mouth) he passed the pillars and stepped on the cold marble. He removed his helmet deferentially, and called out in a loud voice,
"It is done, my lord." He dared not approach closer. He saw Ganondorf look up from the other side of the huge room, and felt a crackling in the air. Ganondorf leapt out of the throne and raced to Zant, his magic and excitement making the air in the room hot and sandy like the air of a desert.
"Let me see her!" He commanded. Zant obliged only too happily; he brought the princess' hovering body to rest in front of Ganondorf's eager face, and quietly stepped away.
"Ahh…" Ganondorf muttered to himself, "I have seen this face in dreams before… how is this possible? It is the exact same face! Although a hundred years have passed, her face is the same… devil-woman, puppet of the gods… I will conquer you this time…"
Zant gave a little cough. He was uncomfortable being around his lord and god when the latter was talking about Princess Zelda. The fellow was a little… obsessed. "Um… ah, my lord…"
"Where is your little ocarina now? I have not seen any of the sages nor heard a sigh of their names… and your Hero is off gallivanting with a Twili, one of the cursed race, and you…"
Zant coughed louder. "My lord…"
"What?" Ganondorf barked.
Zant shuffled his feet, "My lord, I beg permission to leave, I have vengeance to carry out, both yours and mine…"
"Of course, of course, do what must be done," Ganondorf waved Zant away.
Zant hurried out of the throne room.
Zant left Hyrule Castle and made his way south, towards Lake Hylia and the Great Spirit Lanayru. He hid from its light in the mossy rocks and waited.
Zelda, or what was left of her, sat in her room, looking almost exactly as she had before. Without sleep, without food, without a single companion except Hope, she waited.
Ganondorf placed a spell on Zelda's still-living body and posted her above his throne, like a trophy of a successful hunt. He sat on his throne and, humming an old desert song, waited.
In case it still wasn't clear (I know the writing could be better) – Zelda's body was gone by the time Link arrived there to try and restore Midna. Only Zelda's soul was there, like a ghost, and that was how she was able to give her strength entirely to Midna.