Well, let's see. There's not much to talk about here; I'd like to obviously thank my reviewers for the wonderful support and some artists for inspiration…of course Bring Me To Life by Evanescence (the band that was wonderful and shall never be forgotten, even if they are broken up!), Frontline by Pillar, Shadow of the Day by Linkin Park, Given Up by Linkin Park, Whispers In The Dark by Skillet, and The Last Night by Skillet to name a few.

This little prologue, in fact, inspired heavily by The Last Night, so…yea. Enjoy.

You come to me with scars on your wrist; you tell me this will be the last night feeling like this.-The Last Night by Skillet

A Goddess of Light had once supposedly told followers that "darkness descends, but light will cut through, and that eve will be the last you spend in darkness". And that mid-eve in the Twilight Realm, the saying was my philosophy.

I, as usual, was ending the day by pressing my hand against the empty frame of the Twilight Mirror, tracing my hand along its delicate gilded features. I envisioned myself pressing my palm against its glass, letting it cast open a portal. I did not feel anything when I did this; I was too numb—too friendly with anguish to even notice its presence anymore.

Black, square, inky drops of rain started to fall; marking the nighttime's descent. I stood, letting the rain flip my bangs over my eyes. I didn't feel coldness nor did I feel warmth, my body concealed with a black cloak.

There wasn't much to do or say about the two weeks I had been in the Twilight Realm. One second, I was screaming Link's name and his hand was slipping away from mine, the next I was in the Royal Infirmary, twelve doctors hovering over me.

I had wailed several times, cursing and trying to find Link's hand. The doctors had informed me that a man—Dark—had yelled out for help because I had taken a blow from a nearby Shadow Sniper right when we were slipping into the Portal; thus the "reason" he shattered the mirror. What a laugh—Dark concerned about my safety.

Obviously, I did not believe him. When they told me that story, numbness flooded me, that anguish that I couldn't feel. While I was knocked out, Dark had taken "temporary" control of the crown, and until the doctors cleared me as stable, I could not resume my duties.

Wonderful. My kingdom is in the hands of a psychopath. That's lovely.

Sometimes I would become lost in a train of thought, a question I had never asked, and I would turn to say "Link, did you really—" only to realize that I was alone in a hall or in the central square.

After a while, I got used to it. It wasn't unusual for me to just stop and let my eyes glaze over in a sheen of tears, gurgling out sobs and whispering fragments of names, places, weapons. "It's a side effect of trauma," The doctors would say to Dark when he acted in his false, cheesy "worried" personas. "She'll be fine, just wait for a while."

On that particular evening, I went to my room without stopping by the dining hall. My mind and body ached. My soul was a caged dove, fluttering its wings, begging to be free. I was the broken child, left alone to sob and cry, to be laughed at and kicked.

My room was a large dome, decorated with grand furniture, alike to Zelda's, but worlds apart.

In the Twilight realm, it is a peaceful spell that is commonly used after losing a loved one. It can transform the room around you into a screening room of sorts; letting you watch a memory or just a scene that your subconscious creates on random.

I walked to the windowsill and blew out the candle, letting darkness cast over the room. "Vavir, shakeesh," I uttered the spell's key and the world faded into a vignette around me.

A couple was walking along the shore line of a calm spring. The woman was frail, lean, gray-white skin and bleached hair with mossy eyes. A face I knew all too well—sharp, hardened, attractive—walked next to her, laughing. They splashed each other, the sunset casting rays of golden light onto their skin. I smiled at the pleasant scene that I had created, the happy skin of a fairytale.

"The illusion is beautiful tonight, isn't it?"

A hand washed through the spell, ripping through the scene. I fell backwards with a cry of surprise and I rolled to my feet, gritting my teeth in preparation to take another fist.

"I've told you not to dwell on the past, darling, the doctors say it doesn't bode well," Dark mocked. I didn't move. Instead, I closed my eyes, listening for his predatory movements. I heard the skid of a teleport and then his harsh hands on my shoulders, his lips at my ear. "You really should listen to me."

"You have no right to order me around. I've done my part of the deal. Our deals are done. I hate you and I always will, you sick cur," I snapped. A little vein of numb anger flashed in my vision but I ignored it.

He struck me, harder than he had the last night but in the same place—my left cheek and left side of my head, the place Link used to caress—and I went flying, landing on the floor in a broken heap. My body wailed and my caged soul thrashed, screaming at me, begging me to go free.

I spat rusty, salty blood. "You can hit me, you can break me, but you're too stupid to know it doesn't do anything. I am numb. Your blows don't hurt me anymore. They can't."

Dark laughed. "Or so you think."

"What makes you think you'll be able to change that?"

"Oh, you haven't heard."

I stood, brushing the blood from my cheek. "There's nothing to be heard."

"The ruler of the Twilight realm cannot be alone in his or her role. The Royal Council naturally decides a mate," He responded, casually leaning against the bedpost where I lay.

I laughed. "You're kidding."

"Oh? The lists are up, go see for yourself." His gaze was sturdy…like…almost like he was serious. I frowned, jumping to my feet and running from the room. I ran down the hall, gasping for breath as I passed the Throne Room's entrance and the Palace doors. A few guards nodded at me as I ran towards the circular council room. When I entered, I slammed the door shut behind me and locked it. A little voice of agony whispered in my ear, tempting me to feel pain and horror and shock.

There was a crinkled paper on the wall. Pairings.

Vicki Va'hi—Vincent Faior.

Lisi Sas—Josh Caioi.

…

Princess Midna—(temporary) Prince Dark.

I groaned, collapsing backwards. A strong set of arms caught me and a set of lips poised at my ears, whispering.

"There is a wedding to be had."

Well, there you go. Love's Shadow Prologue was very fun to write. In case you're wondering, I promise I won't sissy-fy Midna into falling in love with Dark, a la Kate on NCIS. (Honestly, Kate, was there something in Ari's eyes when HE SHOT YOU DEAD?!)

Umm, in other news! (Oh, I KNOW you read this story to hear my babbling!)


If you were listening to The Last Night by Skillet, as I am…you can be assured that the male role in the song isn't Dark in the story. Hmm, who could it be….? Link? But of course!

Yup. I feel pretty good—refreshed, even! I've got Blood's Shadow all done—yess!—and now I've officially started on Love's Shadow. Again, there are three parts to the TriShadow series.

Blood's Shadow

Love's Shadow

Death's Shadow? (Might think of another name for it.)

((Let me tell you. I'm on my way back from my little hiking/road trip—it was fun, by the way, we hiked a little and went White Water Rafting in a Class 4 river—and I do not agree with my family's choice in music! IF I HEAR ANOTHER 60's SONG, OR ANOTHER PERSON CALLS MY MUSIC ANTI-CHRIST…someone will die. I swear.))

Yea, okay. Shutting up now. Give me your feedback or just stone me to death, I don't care.