Masked Dreams of an Evil Past
Wondering down the endless hallway to the princess's room, Link thought of how he was going to explain his dream to Zelda without making himself appear to be over reacting. He was afraid he was going to fail.
Anyway, the only way to explain anything was to describe the dream. In detail, knowing her and her picky ways. The thing was, just thinking about it brought back those feelings of fear, betrayal... and desire. Need for the power he had held, all those years ago.
But it was inanimate, right? "Oh ho," said the annoyingly philosophical, Rauru-like voice in his head, "there you cross into conjecture. And you know Zelda doesn't like that sort of thing." "And you know her very, very well" said the annoyingly horny voice in his head. (guess which voice he usually followed when it came to Her...)
That sort of power, so easily obtained ("yeah right, don't lie to yourself. You almost broke your back Din-knows how many times collecting all those masks," said an annoyingly soft and subtle voice he'd had ever since... the first time he'd...), always had some sort of consequence, or price. "Nonsense," said the soft voice, "you wore it then without any penalty, what makes you think you'll wear it now without cost?"
"The fact that I'm almost as powerful now as I was then when I had the mask. Sure, I don't have the powers, but I've got the strength, the will. Heck, I've always had the will." Looking at those chapters in the ancient and sacred Book of Mudora, he'd laughed and wondered how he'd ever been so blind. Until the end, of course.
"Well, I didn't know Her then as well as I do now," he'd said to himself. No, the part of the Book that freaked him out, other then the fact that it wrote itself, was the time when he'd been, well, summoned to Termina. Then, he'd been rather bold and headstrong. But, it hurt!
Thinking of the pain made the scar in his leg, that he'd gotten from Odolwa's sword, twinge. That made him think of how he could have beat up that jungle thug if he had gone back in time and used... it.
There it was. He'd finally said it. The thing that had haunted him last night, with promises of power untold, memories of power experienced. "Fierce Deity..."
Some hours later...
He should have known.
He also should have told her all about it when he'd come back the first time. If he had, she wouldn't have looked at him like he was crazy. Sure, he explained it, and told her to read the Book of Mudora to verify the story, but she just snorted.
One good thing, however, is that all this happened after she had jumped, half in the nude, on him and torn off all his clothes. Remembering that, he smiled and almost walked back in again. But he mastered himself and walked on, telling himself that he wasn't likely to get welcomes like that for a long time. Not after how she had kicked him out.
"See? I told you so," said the soft, subtle voice suddenly. "No one understands the lure of the power, the feeling of finally giving in and putting it on." That's true, he thought. No one understands. No one...
"I'll show them the power!" Link yelled in a sudden, inexplicable rage. "I'll make them understand how it felt!" Running to the stables and jumping on Epona, all the time thinking of what he would do, he laughed to himself the whole time. "They'll see. Oh yes, they'll see..."
He dismounted at his little shack in Kokiri Village. Then he ran in and started digging around for a certain key to a certain locked chest. Finding it, he leaped across the room to the chest, a large, ornate, iron- bound oaken monstrosity the King had insisted on giving him, among other things, as reward for saving Hyrule. Unlocking it and digging around, he threw stuff over his shoulder: a shiny, mirror-like shield with a creepy- looking face etched into it: a long, impossibly light sword etched with roses: a smaller sword with a wicked-looking 'razor' edge: and various masks and tools, clearly of foreign or obscure make.
Finally, he found it. The Fierce Deity Mask. A source of power so incredible that not even Majora could stand against it. No, him. For when you wore it, you were transformed into a god-like warrior with a huge sword, which could shoot rings of light; alone these rings might have taken out Ganondorf himself. You never know, though, when the Triforce is involved.
Link was about to put it on when he was stopped by one of his voices; the Rauru-like voice. "What do you think you're doing?!? Do you realize what will happen to Hyrule? You know you can't control yourself when you wear the mask! Think!!" "Don't listen to them," said the soft voice. "Forget everything, just give in. You know you want to..." With that, Link took the Mask in both hands, hesitated a split second more, then he turned it around and shoved it onto his face.
There was the pain he remembered as the power filled him and his body was transformed. But it wasn't this bad. Something was wrong, something was...
Link, now changed into Oni Link, stood. It didn't know why it had been unleashed, but it didn't care. It did know, however, that there was no longer a young, innocent soul to guide and control it; only the reeling, confused mind of a teenager. It smiled, for its time had come. It was Oni, and it would not be denied...
Wondering down the endless hallway to the princess's room, Link thought of how he was going to explain his dream to Zelda without making himself appear to be over reacting. He was afraid he was going to fail.
Anyway, the only way to explain anything was to describe the dream. In detail, knowing her and her picky ways. The thing was, just thinking about it brought back those feelings of fear, betrayal... and desire. Need for the power he had held, all those years ago.
But it was inanimate, right? "Oh ho," said the annoyingly philosophical, Rauru-like voice in his head, "there you cross into conjecture. And you know Zelda doesn't like that sort of thing." "And you know her very, very well" said the annoyingly horny voice in his head. (guess which voice he usually followed when it came to Her...)
That sort of power, so easily obtained ("yeah right, don't lie to yourself. You almost broke your back Din-knows how many times collecting all those masks," said an annoyingly soft and subtle voice he'd had ever since... the first time he'd...), always had some sort of consequence, or price. "Nonsense," said the soft voice, "you wore it then without any penalty, what makes you think you'll wear it now without cost?"
"The fact that I'm almost as powerful now as I was then when I had the mask. Sure, I don't have the powers, but I've got the strength, the will. Heck, I've always had the will." Looking at those chapters in the ancient and sacred Book of Mudora, he'd laughed and wondered how he'd ever been so blind. Until the end, of course.
"Well, I didn't know Her then as well as I do now," he'd said to himself. No, the part of the Book that freaked him out, other then the fact that it wrote itself, was the time when he'd been, well, summoned to Termina. Then, he'd been rather bold and headstrong. But, it hurt!
Thinking of the pain made the scar in his leg, that he'd gotten from Odolwa's sword, twinge. That made him think of how he could have beat up that jungle thug if he had gone back in time and used... it.
There it was. He'd finally said it. The thing that had haunted him last night, with promises of power untold, memories of power experienced. "Fierce Deity..."
Some hours later...
He should have known.
He also should have told her all about it when he'd come back the first time. If he had, she wouldn't have looked at him like he was crazy. Sure, he explained it, and told her to read the Book of Mudora to verify the story, but she just snorted.
One good thing, however, is that all this happened after she had jumped, half in the nude, on him and torn off all his clothes. Remembering that, he smiled and almost walked back in again. But he mastered himself and walked on, telling himself that he wasn't likely to get welcomes like that for a long time. Not after how she had kicked him out.
"See? I told you so," said the soft, subtle voice suddenly. "No one understands the lure of the power, the feeling of finally giving in and putting it on." That's true, he thought. No one understands. No one...
"I'll show them the power!" Link yelled in a sudden, inexplicable rage. "I'll make them understand how it felt!" Running to the stables and jumping on Epona, all the time thinking of what he would do, he laughed to himself the whole time. "They'll see. Oh yes, they'll see..."
He dismounted at his little shack in Kokiri Village. Then he ran in and started digging around for a certain key to a certain locked chest. Finding it, he leaped across the room to the chest, a large, ornate, iron- bound oaken monstrosity the King had insisted on giving him, among other things, as reward for saving Hyrule. Unlocking it and digging around, he threw stuff over his shoulder: a shiny, mirror-like shield with a creepy- looking face etched into it: a long, impossibly light sword etched with roses: a smaller sword with a wicked-looking 'razor' edge: and various masks and tools, clearly of foreign or obscure make.
Finally, he found it. The Fierce Deity Mask. A source of power so incredible that not even Majora could stand against it. No, him. For when you wore it, you were transformed into a god-like warrior with a huge sword, which could shoot rings of light; alone these rings might have taken out Ganondorf himself. You never know, though, when the Triforce is involved.
Link was about to put it on when he was stopped by one of his voices; the Rauru-like voice. "What do you think you're doing?!? Do you realize what will happen to Hyrule? You know you can't control yourself when you wear the mask! Think!!" "Don't listen to them," said the soft voice. "Forget everything, just give in. You know you want to..." With that, Link took the Mask in both hands, hesitated a split second more, then he turned it around and shoved it onto his face.
There was the pain he remembered as the power filled him and his body was transformed. But it wasn't this bad. Something was wrong, something was...
Link, now changed into Oni Link, stood. It didn't know why it had been unleashed, but it didn't care. It did know, however, that there was no longer a young, innocent soul to guide and control it; only the reeling, confused mind of a teenager. It smiled, for its time had come. It was Oni, and it would not be denied...