Summary: Shadow has known for pretty much his entire life (all three months of it, anyway) that he was created, not born. That his existence is subject to the whims of his maker, who won't hesitate to destroy him if he becomes a threat.
Shadow, being Shadow, decides that he cannot let this stand.
Rating: K+
Word Count: ~2500 words
Edit 12-29-16: Added a paragraph on how Ganon created Shadow to make the story flow better.
Shadow has known for pretty much his entire life (all three months of it, anyway) that he was created, not born. That his lifeforce is tied to the same object that Vaati's is, subject to the whims of their maker– Ganon, who won't hesitate to destroy them if he sees them as threats.
Shadow, being Shadow, decides that he cannot let this stand.
Now, Vaati's insane. A century of being sealed away will do that to a mind. Not that he was entirely sane in the first place, though– there was a reason that the Wishing Cap was never meant for him, because that wish took his anger and his pride and twisted them into something darker, something sinister, something that turned him into a monster clothed in hylian skin. Vaati doesn't care about the Mirror or Ganon so long as he gets his revenge, arrogant enough in his own power to think that he would survive even if he succeeded.
Shadow's different. He's expendable. He's known that, just the same we he's known that he is, literally, a shadow of the great Heroes. As a shadow, he knows that he will never be as good as them. That he will never be a part of them. Because Shadow was never meant to exist; he was artificially formed from spellwork and magic and he was not built to last.
Ganon would never risk another Hero, after all. Even one born of darkness.
Realizing this, Shadow begins to plan.
First, research. He spends a lot of time in Vaati's library, a veritable goldmine of knowledge. When he's not running errands, managing the monster army, or chasing after the Heroes, he's in there. Nobody ever thinks to look for him there because he cultivates an image of crassness, of arrogance, of a foul-mouthed imp who blows things up and isn't, well, isn't all that bright.
(Joke's on them, of course. Shadow, by his very nature, is a trickster. Doesn't it stand to reason that his every word could be a trick?
Of course, that's not to say that he doesn't enjoy blowing things up and causing trouble. Anything that annoys that giant flying eyeball is good news in his book, after all. Besides, it is pretty fun.)
It takes some time, but Shadow learns anything and everything he can find on the Dark Mirror, what it does, and how it works. He learns that it's an artifact forged in the Dark World, a parallel realm to the Light World– which, incidentally, is the strange place that he slips into whenever he turns himself into a literal shadow. He learns that the glass itself was made from the black sands of a volcanic island within the Dark World, blurring the boundaries between realms. He learns that its frame, which swirls with smoke-like patterns that he swears will move when he's not looking, has hidden runes carved all over it that lend the structure more power.
He learns, too, that he is not the first being to be brought forth from it.
The name of the Mirror's original creator has been long since lost to time, but the writings that they left still survive. Shadow reads them all, soaks the knowledge in because one day, it might save his life. He learns that the Mirror's creator experimented, first with plants, then animals, then monsters. Never with people, though. It seemed that even they had more morals than that.
Wait, he thinks. Then how did Ganon make me?
It's surprisingly easy to figure that one out, at least. Ganon doesn't hesitate to brag about the Triforce shard that he bears, one that supposedly bestows almost unlimited power. It certainly explains how Ganon was able to create Shadow, although it's unlikely to help much in Shadow's other goals. Beyond adding a slight worry that whatever bit of Triforce left in him will affect whatever magic he tries to work on himself, there really isn't much that he can do about it.
Putting that aside, Shadow reads further. He learns more. He reads and he learns and he absorbs it until he's gone through almost every book in Vaati's library, looking up theories mentioned and studies referenced and supplemental explanations of things until he not only knows it, he understands it. And then, only then, can he get down to the real work.
Next, a plan. Shadow has several ideas on this one. He could disappear into the Dark World forever, break his ties to the Light and simply run. Unfortunately, it isn't quite feasible, because he has no idea if Vaati or Ganon can access the Dark World themselves. And that doesn't even solve the problem of the whole lifeforce-tied-to-the-Mirror thing.
Another idea would be to defect. He could throw himself at the Heroes' mercies and hope that their magic was strong enough to help him. Shadow considers this for all of five seconds before discarding it. Even if they Heroes were willing to help, what then? From what he's seen, all of their magic is combat-based. Even Vio, the most intelligent of them, would likely not have the time or the resources to figure Shadow's problem out before Ganon realizes what he's done and kills him.
To be honest, Shadow's last idea seems the most promising. Based on what he's uncovered, it is not unheard of for someone's lifeforce to be tied to an object. Apparently, ancient emperors and wizards used to do it all the time to protect themselves, since they couldn't die unless that object was broken. Until their enemies started wising up to it, at least, at which point a great many priceless artifacts were smashed.
(Incidentally, that would be the reason why objects from that time period are so valuable. Even if they are exceedingly ugly, such as that one vase that Vaati's always been so proud of. Shadow makes a mental note to "accidentally" smash it at the first opportunity. Because why not.)
Just as it is possible for someone to tie their lifeforce to an object, it is also possible for them to switch which object their lifeforce is tied to. It's difficult, almost alarmingly so, but… not impossible.
That's it! Shadow thinks when he finds this, and has to resist the urge to whoop for joy. It wouldn't do to get caught now, not when he finally has some hope.
The only issue is that, well, all those people who've done it before? They never had their lifeforces tied to anything but themselves first. They were all natural-born people, flesh and blood and everything. Shadow has no idea if he can modify the process to work for him, not when it would be highly experimental and he has no teacher at all to speak of, but–
What other choice does he have?
Shadow does more research. He starts experimenting. The going is slow, since he does have a lot of other duties he has to attend to, but progress is there. If he's lucky, he might get days on end to himself, and on those he can disappear for as long as he wants before anyone notices. And if he comes back exhausted, with blood on his hands and ash in his hair… well, he's Vaati's servant, sent out on secret missions at Vaati's whim. Anybody who sees just doesn't question it.
Except, that's not quite right. Someone does notice, and they get curious, and eventually they confront him about it.
"Oh, Goddesses," Shadow says, and isn't sure if he should laugh or cry, "of course you're the only one who's noticed. Why– you're a dragon; why would you even care?"
Ember huffs at him, smoke curling from her nostrils. "My rider," she rumbles, "and my fledgeling. I care."
Shadows claps a hand over his face and tries to figure out what to say to that. "Um."
Ember leans forward, nosing at the crusted streak of dark red on his neck. "Hurt. Why?"
"Well," Shadow says, "it's not on purpose."
She growls at him for that one. Which, okay, fair enough.
Shadow sighs. He's tired, he's hungry, and the last failed experiment hit him with enough magical backlash to flatten a hinox. He thinks he can trust her, since she's pretty much the only real friend he has, but just in case…
"I can't tell you unless you swear to never let anyone else know," Shadow informs her, coming to a decision. "And, to be honest, you probably don't want to know. You could be killed if someone finds out!"
Ember huffs again. "No love for the Wind-Stealer or the Dark One. I forced to fight. I tell you last moon-cycle."
Yes, Shadow did have to concede that. Ember had been pressed into Vaati's army without consent, along with several other dragons who had refused to join him. One had died at the siege of Hyrule Castle. The others were biding their time, plotting escape. Shadow hadn't had the heart to tell them that Vaati was on to them. Only Ember had the sense to keep her head down and her thoughts to herself.
(She was the smartest one, for sure.)
"Fine," Shadow relents, "but don't say I didn't warn you."
Shadow explains everything to Ember– how he never had a choice in his creation, how Ganon could snuff out his life like a candle if the self-proclaimed King of Darkness so chose, how Shadow had decided that he wanted freedom enough that he was willing to risk it all. Because he would almost certainly be killed if he was found out, he knew. There was no way Ganon would let him live.
Afterwards, Ember is silent for a long, long, moment. Then, she asks him, "How I help?"
Shadow grins. Finally, this day is looking up.
A month later, Shadow finally succeeds. His experiments actually work, and now all that's left is to try it on himself.
Once he, y'know, figures out what object he's supposed to switch his lifeforce to.
Ember is the one who solves that issue for him quite easily, which he doesn't expect. She gives him one of her scales, night-black and harder than the toughest of armors. It's fireproof, magic-resistant, and nigh-indestructible. In other words, perfect.
"I– you'd really give this to me?" Shadow asks her when she offers, a suspicious lump in his throat. Because he knows what this means, he knows the symbolism and the sentiment behind her offering. For a dragon to voluntarily give someone a scale means that they will protect that person for as long as they can, a symbolic gifting of the dragon's own armor to the receiver. It's an act of trust, a vow that says You are clan; I will defend you as I would my own kin.
Ember nods, prying one loose from her own neck without a flinch. "Fledgeling," she reminds him. "You are mine."
"Well, I'm not complaining," he manages, and realizes that somewhere along the line he's become sort of an honorary dragon.
...Oh, Shadow thinks, rather dazed. When did that happen?
(Probably, in retrospect, the first time Ember tried to groom him after a battle. That should've been a clue.)
At any rate, he now has his object. And a fitting one it is, too.
A week later, Shadow performs the ritual. Wonder of wonders, it works. Shadow, at long last, is free. He feels as if he should celebrate this somehow, but. He can't. Vaati would notice, Ganon would notice, and then everything would be for naught.
So. Celebrate only on the inside. And if he's feeling a bit more playful than usual, well. The other monsters will probably chalk it up to nothing but a good mood.
Ember agrees to let him hide the scale with her hoard, which is hidden away in a secret location that only she– and now him, as she takes him there to keep his life safe –know of. He tucks the scale amongst a pile of shed scales that he finds in one corner of her cave, then drapes several old tapestries on top of that. Now, it is as secure as he can make it, and they return to Vaati's stronghold with lighter hearts.
Meanwhile, throughout all this, the Heroes have continued on. Then they become separated, and Shadow is sent to target Vio. This time, though, he manages to convert Vio to his side– and maybe, just maybe, he thinks, Vaati might actually win.
Vio's the smart one, after all. If he's planning their strategies, then the Heroes are dead already.
Except turns out that Vio didn't defect after all, he's a spy, and all Shadow can feel is rage because Vio betrayed him he thought Vio was his friend so why–
They almost kill him with that thrice-damned light. He turns into a shadow to escape, knowing that if he'd been half a second slower he'd be dead. He travels through the Dark World and comes out through the Dark Mirror just in case, though, to make it seem as if he had died and come back. Right in front of Princess Zelda, too, which he honestly doesn't expect.
(And then she gives him that little speech before Vaati's cloud picks her up to be whisked off to somewhere else that he can't follow, and that… well, that gets him thinking.)
"You thought he clan," Ember murmurs later when they're alone, her Hylian rough but understandable. "Hurts, inside. When clan betrays."
Shadow laughs mirthlessly. "Yeah, you got that right."
Stupid, he berates himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He'd been so desperate for them to accept him, so desperate for any scrap of attention that he hadn't seen the deception coming. He was a trickster, damn them, he should have seen it coming!
Shadow trusts less easily, after that.
Yet, in the end, it isn't them who defect. It's him, spurred on by a princess' words and the echoes of friendship, and it's him who picks up that chair and smashes the Dark Mirror into a hundred pieces.
Good thing I figured out that ritual, he laughs to himself, wild and reckless as he pushes the Mirror over the edge of Vaati's tower. He knows that he's bleeding out, knows that he'll probably die from his wounds (it doesn't help that Vaati tosses one last vengeful attack at him, furious wind slicing deep into flesh) but that's fine. He'll come back. If he did everything right, then he'll come back.
And even if he doesn't, then it'll have been worth it. Finally, he's one of them.
Letting himself fade, Shadow grins up at Vio. There's still one more monster they have yet to fight, but… he's confident that they can handle Ganon without him.
(For once, the light no longer burns.)
Then, after what feels like forever and a second all at once, he wakes up.
At first, all he sees is darkness. For a moment, there is doubt. Did he fail?
No. Blinking, the darkness resolves itself into shapes. Black shapes, glittering faintly as they fill his vision. When he shifts, they shift with him, clinking as they slide into each other. There's warmth on his chest, pulsing in time with his heart, and funnily enough that's exactly what it's sitting on top of. His heart.
Shadow sits up, letting the warmth slide off and into his palm. The rest of the objects cascade away, other senses trickling back as his eyes adjust to increased light. He looks down. He's holding a glossy black dragon scale, sitting in a mound of older ones, and after a moment he realizes where he is.
Not ten feet away from him is Ember, wings tucked in close to her sides and tail wrapped around herself in sleep.
Shadow grins, wide and exhilarated. He's alive.