A/N: This is the beginning of an epic story about love and magic.
At last, I found a native English speaking person who kindly proofread the story for me. I apologize for the many mistakes that were in the text before, and present you the new, corrected version, where all mistakes should be fixed.
In this story, there will be dialogs in the languages of the Gerudo and the Sheikah. For both languages, I have posted a grammar containing a dictionary. There you can look up the Gerudo and Sheikah words and phrases. Fanfiction removes all the links, but you will find the grammar if you enter "The Language of the Gerudo" or "The Language of the Sheikah" respectively in the search field for "Story". You may also find the translation of the phrases contained in a chapter at the end of the respective chapter text.
Please note: this story is for adult readers. There is some violence and lots of passionate love scenes, but no bad language.
Enjoy!
Eaglechild
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Chapter 1
1
"Ouch!"
Ranalla, the First of the Sheikah, grabbed her right bicep, where Impa's blade had hit her with full force.
"You must dodge!" shouted Impa. "Rast says that you cannot parry such a blow. You need to avoid it," she added as she came to Ranalla and checked the fabric of her dark combat suit.
"I'm all right," said Ranalla, grimacing and rubbing her arm with clenched teeth. "Fortunately, we took the blunt swords."
"I think you need a break, First Ranalla," said Impa with a little smile. "Let us continue tomorrow. I'll go to Rast in the afternoon. He is just teaching me to fight with two swords."
"When I saw you fighting two days ago, I did not have the impression that he could still teach you anything, Impa," Ranalla said. "At sixteen, you are the best sword fighter of the community, and you already defeated all the other fighters in the village. Even Rast could probably still learn a lot from you."
"Oh no, First Ranalla," said Impa, embarrassed. "Maybe he is not as fast as I am anymore, for he is already six hundred and seventeen years old. But he has over six hundred years of experience fighting with all kinds of fencing weapons, and I want to learn from him as much as I can. And when he has taught me everything he knows, I will write a book. I already have a title: Arut ill Siverdis, The Art of the Sword. How does that sound, hmm?"
Ranalla smiled and felt the pain in her arm slowly fade. She would get a bruise, and Impa would have to heal the sore tissue with her magic once again...
"You will need to have it translated," said Ranalla, lovingly stroking Impa's cheek, "At least, if you want the members of the other tribes to read it. I am sure that the sword-masters of the King of Hyrule – and even the Gerudo Sisters – would pay a fortune for a book that contains Rast's experiences. He has fought in five wars, and for three hundred years he was the examiner of the Elite Fighters at the royal court of Hyrule, before he became a teacher. I believe he is a legend among the Hylians. It is a true privilege to be trained by him."
"I know, First Ranalla," said Impa. "Thank you for putting in a good word for me with him. He is a very good teacher, although I sometimes have the impression..." Impa trailed off and lowered her gaze with sadness.
"Yes?" asked Ranalla cautiously.
"That he would rather have a male student!" Impa burst out gloomily.
A shiver ran through Ranalla's body as she remembered the horrible incident two years before. Impa and her half-brother Ghirahim had sneaked up to the hidden meadow, which lay outside the camouflage barrier. The Daemon had sensed them and had sent his servants, who had abducted Ghirahim and severely injured Impa. The Elder Sunyar and the other powerful magicians had healed Impa's injuries, but Ranalla knew that the young girl would probably never completely overcome her painful loss.
With a twinge of guilt, she tried to come up with a consoling answer for Impa, as the light suddenly changed. At first, she thought a cloud had shifted before the sun and looked casually up to the sky bounded by the high, rugged crater walls.
And then she saw it.
Thin purple vines were creeping up from the edge of the crater and moved, wriggling, across the fine blue barrier that lay like a dome above the village.
"What is that?" Impa asked beside her.
At that moment, Ranalla felt a sharp sting and pressed her hand to her chest in pain. Impa gasped for air and sank to her knees. Ranalla leaned towards her and wanted to help her get up, but Impa clasped her fingers into Ranalla's arm.
"My... magic..." she groaned. "I know... this... feeling! Somebody... ties... it..."
"Ties it?" Ranalla asked in astonishment.
The light darkened, and she looked up again. The purple tendrils had met at the highest point of the magical barrier, and a giant, purple stain spread over the dome from above, flowing slowly downwards.
"This is the Daemon's work!" Ranalla heard a voice behind her. Strong arms grabbed her and dragged her to her feet. "Come, First. Come, Impa, my child," said Rast. "We must hide, the enemies have penetrated."
"What enemies?" Ranalla asked as they ran from the exercise area to the back entrance of the school building.
"They just crawled out of the ground," Rast gasped, and Ranalla saw the horror in his old purple eyes. "Armored Dinolfos and others. The barrier has been infested with dark magic, and our magic is tied. I have experienced this before. We must get to safety."
"I'll get the ocarina," said Ranalla. "We can..."
"No, no," Rast said, shaking his head. "Its magic does not work under the dome, and they have blocked the ascent to the stairs with a barrier. Find a hiding place, First. I have to get the children out of the gym!"
He pressed Ranalla's shoulder quickly, and her hand found Impa's hand as they reached the building. Ranalla hastily opened the door and pulled Impa inside, then they ran up the stairs to Ranalla's study. Ranalla let go of Impa's hand and rushed to the cabinet in the corner. She pulled the doors open and fetched the large, red book from the upper compartment. The Hidden Chronicles could be read in golden, embossed writing on its cover, and for a moment, she wondered if she should take it along. It was the sacred book of the Guardians and contained the most important information for their training, but Ranalla knew it would only hinder her flight. Quickly, she pushed the book into the compartment underneath, stood on her toes, and reached far back through the free space in the upper compartment. At last, she found what she was looking for, and took out the small bag of black velvet. With golden threads, the sign of the Triforce was embroidered on it, and a thin, blue ribbon looked out of it. Ranalla put the ribbon around her neck, opened the top closure of her combat suit, and put the bag inside at her neck so it would not swing against her chest.
"Maybe there's still an escape route," she said, turning to Impa. "When we're out, we can use the ocarina."
"But what about the others?" Impa asked.
"We will try to save as many as possible, but first we must get over to Satih's house. Come!"
She grabbed Impa's hand again and wanted to open the door, but a violent thunderbolt ripped through the air, and the glass of the windows flew into the room in a thousand splinters. They ducked, and Ranalla heard the splinters rattling against the wall and falling to the ground. Another dead bang made the house tremble, and with a loud crash, the roof flew away above their heads. Tiles and bricks fell on the floor, and Ranalla opened the door and dragged Impa down the stairs.
She thought feverishly which way would take them quickest to Satih's house, and decided to take the back exit again. Outside, on the exercise field, lay the debris of the roof, and the purple shimmering sky covered everything with a terrible, ghostly light. Ranalla dared not run through the village, and the detour along the wall of the crater would probably take longer, but there were no houses there, and no roofs that could fall down.
Impa's hand was tight in hers, and they both ran through the garden behind the practice field, until they reached the narrow walk behind the bushes. Along the black frozen lava of the crater wall they fled from devastation. When they were about halfway around, another thunder bang sounded, followed by a terrible hiss, and the light changed again. Ranalla looked up and saw a reddish glow that mingled with the violet light of the barrier, and horror gripped her. She tried to peek through the leaves, but she felt a hot wind in her face as the bushes burst into flames before her.
Impa screamed, but Ranalla dragged her along. Their path was only one step wide, and Ranalla pulled her headscarf out of her pocket and held it to her nose to filter the hot air rising from the burning bushes beside them.
"Down!" Impa gasped behind her, and Ranalla felt Impa's hand pull her to the ground. Gratefully, she bent down and let go of Impa's hand. On their hands and feet they crawled farther, past the flames, until the burning bushes finally stopped and the old walls of Satih's house appeared beside them. Here, too, the roof was gone, and there were several holes in the wall, as if cannon balls had hit it. The metal door leading from the path into the house was hot from the fire, and Ranalla used her scarf to move the latch and open the door.
Inside, there was a horrific sight. The other door, which led out into the village, had been torn from its hinges, and its debris lay scattered between the furniture on the floor. In the opposite wall, a huge boulder had struck a large hole. It had smashed the table in the middle of the room and lay like a massive pedestal over the opening to the secret tunnel that led to a lower section of the staircase. Without their magic, they could not move the rock by an inch. Their escape route was blocked.
Ranalla felt stunned. Who had done this? It must have been someone who knew the village well, who even knew about this secret escape route.
But who?
"Ghirahim!" she heard Impa's voice beside her.
"What..." Ranalla stammered.
She looked at Impa, who was standing beside her with wide eyes and trembling lips. Anxiously, she followed Impa's gaze through the empty door opening.
2
She grabbed Impa's arm and dragged her away from the door frame. Impa sank to the ground and crouched down beside the wall, whimpering softly. Ranalla pressed against the wall next to the door opening and peered out through a narrow gap between the bricks.
The houses in the vicinity had been razed to the ground, and a huge debris field covered the area around the village center. Between the ruins she saw the corpses of the people who had lived in the houses, and there, in the village square...
Trembling, she turned around and leaned in horror against the hot wall, for her legs wanted to give way.
"Ghirahim..." Impa sobbed, and Ranalla sank to her knees and put her arms around her.
"He is no longer Ghirahim, Impa," she said. "The Daemon has changed him, you must not let him influence you."
"I must go to him..." whimpered Impa, trying to wriggle out of Ranalla's embrace. "I must stop him. He will listen to me..."
"No, Impa," said Ranalla, trying to let her voice sound resolute despite her fright. "He killed them all! The Dinolfos drag them out of their houses and bring them to him, and he just..."
"But why, First Ranalla?" Impa asked, looking at Ranalla with horror in her eyes. "What have we done to him?"
Ranalla shuddered as the burden of guilt fell upon her mind like a brutal weight.
.
She had done it.
That morning, two years ago, she had gone through the Creation History of the Treasure with the older students, the most important subject in the entire training of the Guardians. No one could be absent from this lesson without excuse, and she had emphasized to the two siblings the evening before that she would not tolerate any delay.
But they had not come.
After they had been missing from class all morning, Ranalla had gone to search for them at noon. In the windy bell tower of the school building she had finally found them leaning against the railing in a tight embrace, kissing obliviously. Ranalla had watched them for a while, perplexed, and Impa, who had looked around anxiously as they parted, had finally noticed her. Frightened, she had clung to Ghirahim, but he had just looked at Ranalla with a scornful smile, throwing his white hair out of his face while he put his arm protectively around Impa.
"Don't be afraid, my love," he had said tenderly to Impa. "She cannot do anything to us. We are much stronger than her, despite the barrier."
Angrily, Ranalla had descended the steep wooden steps of the bell tower and had gone to Elder Sunyar. The magic of the half-siblings was so strong that the aura of the Bonding built up even when they just kissed, and full of pain, Ranalla had seen the remains of the blue field surrounding their entangled bodies. She had given the order, and Sunyar had taken the magical fetters from the drawer of his desk and had gone to find the two sword instructors, who were the strongest magicians of the community after him. Nevertheless, Ghirahim had almost stunned the three of them with his whirls before they had overpowered him and Impa and put them in the shackles.
The bands had bound their magic for a day, and they could not even use it for the smallest task. On her way home, Ranalla had passed the bench under the big lime tree in the courtyard of the school, where Ghirahim and Impa were sitting, desperately holding hands. Ghirahim had cast a harsh, hateful look at Ranalla, and Impa's tears had been running down her cheeks as she longingly clung to her brother without feeling him.
Ranalla had tried to persuade herself that she had been forced to do it, that she had been compelled to make an example. That she had not acted only out of anger, because Ghirahim had simply ignored her instructions. She had tried to believe that she had acted solely out of concern for the two children, and not out of envy, because they had performed the Bonding at fourteen and were experiencing heaven on earth with every kiss, while she herself had never...
Then the Daemon had abducted Ghirahim, and again, she had tried to convince herself that she had never felt the slightest touch of satisfaction about his disappearance. At last, no one questioned her authority anymore, and after her recovery, Impa had even clung to Ranalla and had become her friend, although Ranalla had punished her back then.
And now, that proud, insane young mage out there was killing her people, and Ranalla knew that she herself was to blame for this disaster.
.
She shook her head and looked wistfully into Impa's questioning eyes that were waiting for an answer.
"You did not do anything to him, my darling," she said. "But I did. Just like the other Guardians of Time, who disturbed his happiness with you, when you both wanted nothing else than to be together. The Daemon took advantage of his feelings and made him a merciless enemy. He will not spare you, Impa, for the Daemon has smoothed him, and there is no more love in his soul."
3
As she looked through the crack again, she knew it was over. The barrier that should protect the Chosen People of the Goddess from the eyes of the Daemon had become a prison, and there was smoke and fire everywhere. Only a few were still alive, but they would not make it. The enemy had defeated them with their own knowledge, with their own power, and they had no chance.
Ranalla saw him walk over the ruins of the devastated village, his face gray, and his once bright purple eyes deep in their dark sockets. Only his white hair was still like in her memory, and he still flung it out of his face cockily when it fell over his eyes. As he looked searchingly over the burning houses, he sent dark whirls over the figures of the last Guardians of Time. Their magic being bound and useless, they all fell; and Ghirahim, the servant of the Daemon, rejoiced in his power.
Despite her tied magic, she could feel him sending his mighty magic to search, and it crawled like an army of thin, greedy snakes into every crack of the village. She felt an icy twinge as the snakes reached her, and she knew the enemy had found them. Impa also seemed to feel it, for her hand in Ranalla's hand trembled.
Ranalla had no comfort for her. The proud, highly magically gifted boy, who had once been Impa's brother and companion, had turned into the mighty, cold Prince of Darkness, who knew no mercy. What would have happened if she had not given the order? If she had not burdened herself with this guilt out of envy and anger? Was it the punishment of the Goddess that she herself would now die without ever having known the love of a man?
Through the crack in the wall, she watched as the enemy slowly approached the ruins where they were hiding, and thought feverishly again. She would accept the fate that the Goddess had intended for her. But Impa...
Impa was innocent!
She turned and looked through the hole in the other wall, where she could see the rocks. After Ghirahim's abduction, Sunyar and the other strong magicians had expanded the camouflage barrier, including the hidden meadow. Because of her weak magic, Ranalla had not been able to help, but she had watched, and she had noticed something...
It was a desperate hope, a madness that could mean death all the more. But if Ghirahim just wanted to tie their magic, the barrier could still be penetrated, if one could just reach it somehow. The walls of the crater were steep and could not be climbed without magic. The path to the hidden meadow was also steep and troublesome, and the enemy would quickly discover them if they both went. But perhaps there was a way to save at least one of them.
If he believed that she was alone...
"Here, Impa," Ranalla whispered, pulling the blue ribbon of the ocarina over her head. "Take the ocarina and run up to the meadow. The crater wall is too steep, but you can climb on the highest rock in the middle, it is almost as high. From there, make a somersault through the barrier. When you are outside, call your magic instantly and slow your fall. Play the Prelude of Light while you are falling, and it will take you to the Temple of Time. Go to the court of King Nohansen of Hyrule. He will take you in if you show him the ocarina."
"I will not leave you, First Ranalla," said Impa, sobbing and clinging to her.
"It's over, my darling," said Ranalla. "Go, I'll distract him so you can get through. Hurry! Hylia be with you!"
Impa took the blue ocarina, the Divine Artifact given to the Sheikah people, and released Ranalla's hand. Through the hole in the wall behind them, she crawled out into the open, then Ranalla saw her disappear behind the rocks in the steep hollow path that led to the hidden meadow. Her gaze returned to Ghirahim, who had almost reached the house. Again and again, he sent his dark whirls to all sides, destroying what had not yet fallen to the ground.
Ranalla stepped out through the empty doorway to face him.
"Ghirahim!" she called.
"Well, well," he said with a mocking grin. "The First of the Sheikah is the last one left. Look, I have strengthened the barrier and tied the mighty magic of the great Guardians, as they did at your command with me. Because your magic was always too weak to do it yourself, am I right?"
"What has he done to you?" Ranalla said sadly, shaking her head with regret.
"He has made me powerful, Ranalla!" he shouted, and his magically amplified voice echoed from the high crater walls surrounding the village. "He has made me beautiful, and strong, and immortal!"
"And what did he want from you in return? Your soul, Ghirahim? Your memories? Your innocence?"
He laughed and hurled a dark whirl at her. "Be quiet, Ranalla!" he barked. "I will destroy you!"
Ranalla knew he would, because she had nothing left to set against him. She only wanted to get a little more time for Impa so she could flee. If she was to live at the king's court, she would have to learn Hylian first...
She wanted to throw herself to the side to escape his dark magic, but her heel froze to ice. Her stomach cramped as cold pain raged through her body like a hundredfold branched lightning, and the world disappeared before her eyes. She stiffened in the middle of her movement, and like a wind, her soul fled from her body, as Ghirahim fulfilled his promise.
4
The creation of the Treasure
.
Excerpt from the Hidden Chronicles,
the Sacred Book of the Guardians of Time
.
In the beginning, the universe was beautiful.
It was straight and even, and a gentle light lay over its entire surface. Quietly, he rolled around and enjoyed its beauty. He was content with it, and proud of himself, that he had done so well.
But then she came.
Everywhere she went, she brought disturbances into his universe. It wrinkled and formed tiny folds and knots, and where the folds were, the light changed, becoming bright and dark. Quickly, he began to smooth the folds and untangle the knots to make the light uniform again.
But after a while, he found new traces. They were small and barely perceptible, but they annoyed him, and he decided to do something. He looked for her figure and smoothed her trace, until he reached her.
"Why are you here?" he asked. "I do not need you."
"I am here because I want to give you joy," she said. "Because I need you."
"In the beginning, when my universe was not yet permeated by your disturbances, I had joy," he said. "You take my joy away. How can you give me joy?"
"My joy is a different joy," she said. "Your joy was the joy of sameness, of endlessness, of eternity. But my joy is the joy of attraction, of novelty, of development."
As she spoke, she was getting closer, and delicate whirls formed in his universe around him. Then he noticed that even the smoothness of his own body changed and tried to adapt to her forms. He was frightened and wanted to move away, but she cut off his way with deep wrinkles and tight knots he could not overcome. Anxiously, he looked for a way out, but she had cornered him. His surface deformed more and more the closer she came to him...
And then she touched him.
Never before had he been touched. She flowed over his body, filling out all the wrinkles that had formed from her approach. But while he was exploring the new sensations on his surface, the steady, calm substance of his body began to move. Currents formed inside him, whirling around each other, vibrating and pulsating, and he became curious. He realized that he liked the change, and that he wanted... more.
"Give me..." he heard her soft voice, and he felt his substance close around a knot that had formed in his core.
"Give me..." she whispered again. "Give me... the Treasure..."
Fine whirls penetrated his matter and reached out for the knot, and their touch aroused his desire to give her what she wanted. Eagerly, he let his own whirls circle and work to bring his knot to her. He realized that she had prepared a place inside herself, and he tried to reach it, he wanted...
"Give me the Treasure," came her urgent voice, and he was almost there! Carefully, he let that part of his body containing the knot enter her body.
"I give you the Treasure," he said, and put the knot into the cave she had prepared. And then her substance absorbed him and merged with him, and he sank into a mighty sensation that made him tremble with awe.
.
When he awoke and looked around, his universe was gone. The smoothness had been replaced by whirls, folds and knots, and there was nothing left of the gentle light.
In the distance he saw two figures moving through the foreign universe. One was tall, and he knew it. The other was smaller, and he did not know it. It resembled the tall figure in a certain way, but it was different.
He wanted to join them, but he could not move through this new universe. He tried to smooth the surface so that he could roll, but the folds were so deep that he could barely move. Looking into the distance, he saw that the two figures were already in another place.
Should he change direction?
When he had cleaned a small area around himself, he arbitrarily chose a direction and began to smooth a path. After he had come a little way, he saw the two figures approaching. He followed their path and realized that they would cross the way he had just smoothed. Quickly, he calculated the point where they would pass, and rolled there. As they came closer, he spoke to them. The small figure came first.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I am the Treasure," said the figure.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"I was born out of Order and Chaos, and I am here to maintain the balance."
"What have you done to my universe?"
"We gave it a shape."
"But I cannot move around in this universe. I need to smooth it so I can roll."
"If you do that, you will destroy our universe. We will change it back."
"It was my universe before. Everything was all right before... you came."
"Now it is ours. We need a universe with shapes."
"I will smooth it again."
"Then you must do that. But we will change it again, as that is our way."
Then the figure moved on, drawing a trace of wrinkles and swirls over the path he had just smoothed.
He felt his core change again, but this time it was different. It did not flow gently and slowly like before, but it raged and twitched, and he was confused. He felt the urge to destroy those two figures that disturbed his universe.
There had to be a way to... smooth... them...