**All Standard Disclaimers Apply**
Book Three in the Doppelganger Trilogy
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Stasis
by Jennifer Wolfe
A.K.A. "The Wolfess"
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Chapter One: The Great Hyrulian Civil War
The twilight of morning came upon the world like a ghost. Mist clung to the thawing ground and patches of ice like the spirit of a lover, its icy fingers freezing droplets of morning dew on blades of dead grass. Volc's breath escaped his chapped lips in little puffs of air and froze on the outside of his red beard. It had been a while since he had shaved, and the five-o'clock-shadow he sported when they left new Kakariko bound for Zora's Domain had grown into a full, if short, beard. As the outer hairs began to stick together and crack with the icing mist, the KRP captain wished that he had remembered to shave before coming to the battlefield to join their meager ranks. If he was to look death in the eye again, he would have felt better doing it with a clean shave.
The soldiers were shivering. The Zoras had managed to get most of the armor and light weaponry through, as well as some of the artillery, but as of that moment the main host of their aquatic army was still on its way. Despite the Zora army's tardiness, Ralis's forward thought made sure that every KRP soldier had armor and weapons. Unfortunately, they had been bent to fit by the Gorons in a hurry and they weren't very warm. The soldiers that stood behind Volc wore mis-fitting armor with no chain mail and the warmest clothes they could fit beneath the armored suits. It didn't provide much protection from the cold, and it provided even less protection from the blows that were to come in combat. Still, they did HAVE armor, and they all had appropriate weapons of their own. Some of them even knew how to use them. Something was better than nothing at all.
At the back of the KRP's meager lines, the three canons they had received during the night were evenly spaced out. Archers were thinly spread between them, each with a short sword on his hip in case it came to hand to hand combat. They were being led by Zelda, the best archer in the land. She would stay with them through the first part of the battle, and then join Link once the hand to hand reached them. Looking back at her, Volc saw that she was teaching some of the younger boys how to use their bows and running small practice drills at short range. They were such a green army. Shaking his head, Volc looked over at his fellow captains. The Resistance group led the other sections of their army: Ashei next to him, followed by Auru in the middle, with Rusl and Shad on the other side. Their five companies were spread out and short, a mixture of volunteers. They were old and young, women and men, gorons and hylains and zora, each placed in strategic places.
At the head of the whole formation, sitting atop the trusty Epona in his simple green tunic, was the hero himself. His blond hair caught the twilight and seemed to turn to gold as his green hat hung limp down his back in the still air. His eyes were narrowed, the planes of his face hard in some sort of concentration. Link looked as if he were chiseled out of stone there at the head of Zelda's army, a deadly ideal for each of his soldiers to watch and follow and emulate, giving them all hope and courage in the long, dark hours of their waiting.
The marquis thought that he knew what their unofficial leader must he thinking of. At least, Volc thought he knew what ballpark Link's thoughts might be in. When death is at your door, her cold breath like fingers on your neck, there is always one thing you think of. It's different for each of us, as varied as are the people in our world, but as Lady Death moves in with her cold kiss to say goodnight to us all, we think of what we have lived for, if we have lived for anything at all.
Some have lived for a particular person or for a god. Some have lived for money or for comfort. Some have lived for fun, some for glory. Some live for their children, some for their parents, some for their lovers or friends. Some live for peace, some for hope, some for justice. Some live for the simple pleasures of life. Some for hard work. Some for honor. Some live for animals. Some live for adventure. Some live for their next drink, their next thrill, or their next pick me up. Some live to lead others. Some live to follow. Some live to create. Some live to inspire. The list goes on and on and on.
No matter what you have lived for, when Death is on her way and you stand in the inevitability of her arrival, there is a moment. Before her breath is on your face and you think back on how you have lived, or if you have lived, there is a moment. Before the regret or the satisfaction comes upon you as you reflect on what you have done with the time you were given, there is a moment. Before you are hit by the fear of dying or the resignation to your death, there is that moment.
It is a quiet moment. A bored moment. She is on her way, but she is not yet here, and your mind is idle as you wait for her. She is still far off to you. She is not present, not real, and rather than thinking about Death herself you are thinking about life, and, most importantly, about what matters to you. That one thing that you think of when you wake up every day. The thing that occupies your thoughts and your heart whether you want it to or not, whether it is alive or not. You think of it, and you mull it over, and you remember the times you had with it, and you wonder if you will be able to enjoy it again. What will tomorrow bring? Will I still be here, still just waiting? Or will I be dead?
That was what Link was thinking of now, Volc was sure. It's what they all were thinking of. The marquis didn't know what that was for the hero, or who, but he knew what it had been for himself. Volc had lived for Kaylea. He had lived for his wife. He had lived for love of her, fought for love of her, served for love of her. When she died, he had tried to avenge her death for love of her, and now he would try to put the rightful Queen back on her throne because that is was Kaylea would have wanted, because he loved her still. Deep in his broken heart, the memory of his wife's life and her love kept his soul on the right path. He knew that somehow her love would guide him from the grave as it had guided him in life, and if Death did come for him in the battle that day, he would greet that cold eternal kiss with a smile for he knew that his love would be waiting for him beyond the grave upon the green fields that awaited them all.
The Marquis of DuPont was remembering the days of their youth. He thought back to the day she confessed her love to him, the day she said yes, the day they both said I do, and all the happy days in between. He was remembering the sound of her laugh when the first silhouette appeared on the other side of the field in the mist. Its silver skeletal armor sparkled blindingly in the dawn light, obscuring the darkness beneath. As the figure drew close enough, the red glitter of the rubies in the armor and his bloody eyes were visible. At the same time, the giant shadow mass of the army behind him grew visible. A wind was picking up, and it blew the mist across the field. The Shadow Army of the Shadow King stretched out behind him farther than the marquis could see, silent as death and just as lethal. Volc's stomach fell as the dark figures stretched wider and wider, filling their half of the field.
The mist was getting clearer still. Soon, Volc could make out three sections to the shadow army. The body of the army was Dark Link's host of Obsidian Eaters, each with the strength and ferocity of five men. They were still filing into the field from the back, but the old army captain saw right away that they were being sheltered. On the flanks and in the front of his Obsidian Army, King Dark Link had placed his Bulbin and Bokoblin forces to take the bulk of the slaughter that was sure to come. Having had previous experience with the war-like Bulblins during Link's Bulblin Campaign, Volc knew that the green creatures were a lot smarter and more aware than most monsters. He wondered how King Bulblin felt about his position as a sacrificial lamb.
The self-proclaimed King of the Bulblins emerged from the fog to Dark Link's right hand. He was dressed in full battle armor and rode atop his favored mount, the giant, blue Lord Bullbo. The small red eyes on King Bulbin and his people fit in well with the obsidian-induced red eyes of the Obsidian Soldiers and the Shadow King himself. Scores of red eyes were appearing from the thinning mist like tiny pinpricks of light, too many for Volc to count. His stomach began to churn.
The only eyes in the enemy ranks that weren't red belonged to the purple-skinned Bokoblins who were lined up on Dark Link's left hand in a similar fashion to the Bulblins—positioned to simply be meat. Their eyes were a sickly green and empty, much like their brains Volc suspected. He remembered them following Dark Link into battle toward the end of the Battle of the Black Valley, "saving the day" shortly before ginger-haired officer had blacked out. Unfortunately, Volc hadn't had as much previous experience with the Bokoblin tribe's ways as he had with the bulblins. He didn't know what to expect from them, but he discerned what he could with his eyes.
Overall, the bokoblins ranks were split between a blue-skinned and violet-skinned variety. Standing together, they really just looked like different shades of purple to the marquis, but the different skin tints seemed to come into play when it came to what weapons they held. The mist obscured some of his vision, but he could see the front lines pretty well. The blue-tinted Bokoblins held simple clubs and the violet-skinned Bokoblins held crude swords. Did the blue ones also look smaller, or was that his imagination? This would be good information to pass down the line to his relatively unskilled troops. Go for the blue ones.
There was a time, not that long ago, when the marquis would have seen both green Bulblins and purple Bokoblins the same: they were all short bipedal monsters, after all, weren't they? That was until Link's Bulblin Campaign. For a while there, as the two peoples bartered and argued over the peace treaty, the hylians and the bulblins had lived together and ate together and shared as best as they could. Their ways and languages has been different, but they had managed. As the marquis looked across the field and sized up the enemy army while their ranks formed and the two versions of Link stared each other down, the ginger-haired Captain found himself seeing more differences than similarities between the two enemy races that he ever would have before.
The Bokoblins' white hair was matted with gunk and ratted so badly that they all had long white dreadlocks pulled back and tied with string. Bulblins, on the other hand, kept their hair cut short and hidden under a leather cap, letting only their horns show out the sides of the cap. It served to protect their heads from weather and cold, as well as to accentuate the Bulblin race's natural horn growth to appear more threatening. It was intelligently designed, if simple. All the Bokoblins had were long, floppy ears that were more funny-looking than threatening.
This contrast also showed in the two race's manner of dress. The Bokoblins were wearing what looked to be just feed sacks wrapped around their lower halves and tied with the same string as their hair. The Bulblins, once again, were more sophisticated. They wore tunics of animal hide over crude chain mail secured by leather belts decorated with claws and skulls, along with padded cloth gauntlets and swaths of cloth wrapped around their necks and mouths. They were obviously a lot more intelligent—and, Volc thought to himself—a lot more dangerous as a result.
As Volc watched, a large reddish-purple Bokoblin pulled up at the head of her people. She—for the marquis could tell right away that this was a Queen or female Tribal Leader rather than a King—was wobbling atop a regular Bullbo that was probably borrowed and took her respective place at Dark Link's left. Contrasting with King Bulblin, the green-eyed Bokoblin leader looked much like a much larger, perhaps slightly more intelligent, version of her people. She wore a couple pieces of armor that she had obviously gotten from the Bulblins, wielded a simple sword and a wooden shield, and seemed to have a problem with drooling. Her tongue hung out of her mouth as she warbled unintelligible sounds under her breath as she tried to keep the Bullbo in line. Volc flexed his sword hand. He wanted to try his hand at taking her down himself. She would surely be easy to take down.
Finally, after what felt to be a long time, movement on the other side of the field stopped. The back of the enemy's army was obscured by what mists still remained, but it was obvious that all of Dark Link's host was present. Right away, Volc was shocked by how few hylian soldiers there were. When you discounted the "mercenary" Bulblin and Bokoblin ranks in the front, the Obsidian Soldiers were cradled in the back and middle of the enemy's forces because there were so few of them. How many had died in the streets or killed one another over food in the Black City? For that matter, how many had come to their side, survived the purge, and now stood behind him in the mismatched, ill-fitting armor of the Kakariko Resistance Party? Perhaps, Volc dared to hope, the KRP had a small, small chance of surviving this day.
When the Shadow King's black horse took its first steps toward the center of the battlefield, an audible intake of breath could be heard. Even Volc held his breath as the green-clad hero nudged Epona forward to meet him. The two links met in the center of the battlefield, the noses of their horses just a couple feet apart. Light and dark, black and white, they stood in opposition to each other. Dark Link with his black skin, red eyes, and glittering armor sat with a cocky air about him. His horse was armored with a skeletal-like armor that matched his own, the black standard of the Shadow Kingdom hanging from its flanks. This standard—a raven with a black apple in its talons flying up toward an inverted triforce, the symbol of the Demon God Demise—was raised by standard-bearers throughout the ranks of his army. The black symbol was sewn on a blood-red background with silver embroidery and the flags fluttered in the wind.
In direct contrast to the pomp and arrogance of the Shadow King, their own leader was dressed in his ragged old greens and rode atop an armor-less horse. The only pieces of glittering metal he had on him were the sword and shield that Auru and the rest of the party of adventurers had given the hero as a gift upon his return. It was the Mirror Shield that shone the most in the morning light. A mirror shield, its reflective green trim and steel face reflected the light, casting the engraved image of twin wolves howling up at a glowing triforce in the sky upon the ground behind the hero.
Despite that little bit of shine, a piece that Volc thought would surely become the symbol of his young House Randulfr if they lived through this, Link still presented the image of a humble hero. The golden General's armor was nowhere to be seen. There were no flags and no standard-bearers among their ranks. Zelda and Link had put their focus into arming and preparing their people, not into sewing flags. There was even a difference in how the two mirror-image-men held themselves atop their horses. Link was confident, yes, but not arrogant. He appeared cautious as he looked Dark Link in the eye, but courageous as well. He was afraid, surely he was afraid, but he would never flinch in the face of that fear ever again.
"Well, well," it was Dark Link who spoke first. Strands of silver hair poked out under his skeletal helmet, and he tucked a few stray stands away. "I see that you have put off the Wolf then. Nicely done, brother."
"I am no brother of yours," Link growled. His hands tightened on Epona's reins but he did not reach for the Gilded Sword in its crimson and gold sheath on his back.
Dark Link shrugged. "We were created at the same time, by the same act. Just because you were favored and I was discarded like trash does not mean that we are not still products of the same Golden Mothers. Still…I do think I liked you better in fur. Slobbering and chasing your own tail fit you well." Link didn't respond, and the dark king rolled his eyes. "So serious. Fine. I suppose this is the part where I set out my demands and you refuse them. Here, then, are my demands: leave Hyrule to me and mine. It's not yours anymore, so give back all of those people there, including your lovely princess, and once this pathetic little resistance is over with, go back to the woods that you came from and fall on your own sword."
Link was quiet for a moment. Epona shifted a little beneath him, and Dark Link's mount shook its mane. "Dark Link, you cannot win this," Link finally said. "You never have, and you never will. Darkness cannot overcome light. That's just not the way the world works. Especially with the power of the Chosen of the Goddesses united for the first time in history…Dark Link, you cannot win. Give up this pointless fight."
Dark Link laughed. "I cannot win?" He laughed again, louder this time, while the two armies looked on. Link just kept a level gaze on him, his courage not once wavering. "CANNOT win, you say?! Look around you! My army is so large that it will engulf your pathetic band of rag-tag rebels! And do mine eyes deceive me, or is there one particular triforce-holder who has gone missing? The point you're making IS that there are THREE of you, correct? If this is so, then where is that red-haired sheikah wench? Or have you forgotten her? You do overlook those you deem unnecessary, Link, and that is a character flaw."
For the first time, Volc saw a little bit of sweat forming on the back of Link's neck. That remark hit a bone with the hero, he realized. Link must be more worried about Zelda's missing bodyguard than he had let on to. Obviously sensing Link's discomfort, the Shadow King continued. "Oh yes, Link, I noticed. She is the holder of the most powerful of the three golden triangles…I can sense her power out there, somewhere in the world, just as I could once sense Ganondorf's power. Like him, she is beginning to learn how to use it, and, like him, she will be consumed by her own desires and the dark power of Din's Piece. It is only a matter of time. So do not pretend to use THAT trump card with me, you little blond fibber of a boy, and do not tell me to back out of a fight that I have been waiting for since the dawn of time. This is my day. By the end of it, I will bite into your beating heart and let the blood run down my chin."
Link nodded his head. "I did expect that answer," he said, his voice soft. "I didn't want to have to do this to you, but you leave me no choice. We will fight and you will lose."
Dark Link grinned, his teeth pearly white inside a black face. "Prove it, doggy-boy," he said. Without another word to each other, the two Links turned their mounts around and started back toward their respective armies. Before he went too far, however, Link pulled Epona to a stop prematurely. Volc wondered what could possibly be going through his skull. The blond-haired hero turned the horse around a little, just enough that he could turn his body and lock eyes with the Bulblin King.
Dark Link, unaware of what was going on, was still walking his horse back into his ranks with his back turned completely. Link called out in a loud voice: "KING BULBLIN!" The green-skinned king jumped in his saddle at the sound, and Dark Link's horse stopped. The shadow king was trying to turn the horse around as Link called out, "where does your allegiance lie, King Bulblin?"
Dark Link was too far away and facing the wrong direction. The green-skinned Bulblin King's bulbous face broke into a haphazard, feral grin. His beady eyes sparkled as he nodded his head. A silent acknowledgement passed between the hero and the monster king, like a mutual understanding of some past secret that only they knew. King Bulblin raised his ax in the air, steadying Lord Bullbo with his free hand. "WITH THE STRONGEST SIDE!" He roared, his voice warbling in the air.
Without warning, he spun his large blue boar to the side and rammed its tusks right into the brown beast that the Bokoblin Queen was riding. She fell, screaming, to the ground as the Bulblin troops likewise turned on their hylian and Bokoblin counterparts. Screams and shouts of surprised troops rang out into the air, along with the sounds of Bulbin growls, Bokoblin warbles, and clanking weapons. It was unexpected, for sure, but to everyone's surprise the Battle of the East Field had begun.
~! #$%^&*()
While Link met his shadow on the battle field, another Chosen was meeting hers, and her time was running out. Adrienne lay on the steps behind Ikal, her breath ragged. The Chosen knelt down beside her. The wolf-girl's white hair stuck to her fevered, sweaty brow. The sheikah's eyebrows creased. "Don't give up on me yet," Ikal whispered. "Not when I'm finally giving in to your babble about feelings, and not when I still have to scold you for always jumping headfirst into things you have no business being involved in." Adrienne didn't respond, and Ikal sighed. She drew her Wakizashi from its sheath on her back as she stood up and turned her attention back to the shadow.
Wielding the magical Sheikah Naginata, the Shadow Ikal stood in the middle of an empty hall facing the grand double doors that would, the sheikah hoped, give her access to the person or deity inside. Hopefully that person would be able to help her heal her dying friend. Unfortunately, the doors were locked by large, black chains obviously created by the shade. If Ikal wanted to get inside, she would have to defeat this shadow-creature first.
"I really don't have time for this," she said, getting into her ready stance. On the back of her right hand, the symbol of the Triforce of Power shone brightly, and a fiery aura of power pulsated around her body anew. In the center of the room, the Dark Ikal got into its own ready stance. It held the butt of the Naginata up over its head and the blade pointed at the ground behind its back. It bounced back and forth on its toes, waiting for her to make the first move.
Ikal was more than happy to oblige. She sprinted forward, a blur of fire and movement as she charged the shade. She slashed and stabbed right and left, low and high. The Shadow blocked every blow, or flipped and dodged its way free. Ikal buckled down, reaching deep inside for the power born of anger that fueled the red aura surrounding her. Harnessing this anger, she attacked with renewed vigor. Still the shade was able to dodge and block her every blow.
The sheikah was getting more and more frustrated as the moments passed. When she moved right, the shade moved left. When she stabbed, it blocked. If she went high, it ducked. If she went low, it dodged. It seemed to know every move she was going to make right as she knew it, and countered each move perfectly.
With an audible growl of frustration, Ikal disentangled herself from the fruitless battle. Breathing hard, she clutched her wakizashi in a white knuckled grip and glared at the shadow. It grinned and laughed back at her, but the sound was somehow hollow—as if it wasn't really there at all. As Ikal watched, puzzling over how to get past the defenses of a creature that knew her every move before she made it, the Shadow Ikal lifted the blade of its naginata and finally went on the attack.
~! #$%^&*()
East Hyrule Field was chaos. Dark Link's lines were fighting amongst each other, Bokoblin versus Bulblin, and Dark Link, Teela, and his Shinobi Officers were shouting orders. From his place at the front of his unit, Volc could see Link and Epona bolting back to the lines. He gave a signal to Zelda, who held up her hand for the archers to be ready. Nodding to himself, the hero turned and held his hands up around his mouth so his voice would carry farther. Volc couldn't hear what he was saying above the chaos on the other side of the field, but he saw the head of King Bulblin turn and the green monster nod. He roared something to his people, and they started making their way out of the fray toward the KRP lines. The captain realized that Link must have told them to retreat.
A few of the Bulblins were killed on their way out, but since most of them had been toward the front of the Shadow King's army anyway, they were able to retreat mostly unscathed. Once they were far enough away, Zelda gave the archers the signal to shoot. A volley of arrows soared into the air over the heads of the KRP Army and into Dark Link's forces. Disoriented from the surprise attack, and sudden retreat, of the Bulbins, many didn't even realize that arrows had been fired before they were hit.
As Zelda and the archers sent a second volley of arrows soaring into the air, Link was looking hard at the pass back to Kakariko Village. There were no Zoras coming out. The hero frowned and, almost reluctantly, held up the sign that the Gorons were watching for. A loud rumbling was heard from the cliffs on either side of the path to New Kakariko. This was followed shortly by the cracking and crashing of two landslides. When the dust cleared, Volc could see that the pass was closed.
His stomach dropped. He knew it was going to happen, but seeing it made him nervous. A part of him had held on Link's optimism, hoping that the Zoras would make it. There was no way out of this battle now, and no more help on the way. They were stuck here between the rocks and the army. One way or another, by the time it was over many would be dead and the world would be changed—for good or for evil.
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Author's Notes:
Hello Doppelganger Trilogy fans! It has been a long time coming, I know, but it's the beginning of something huge! There was a lot of wrestling over this chapter, and the ones to come, in order to get the details of the battle and the different narrative chords to progress naturally and in the right order. I appreciate your patience.
In other news, the Hero of Wolves has been fully revised and the revised chapters have been uploaded. Go back and take a look! I also have an editor who has volunteered to proof read Shadow Kingdom, so once he is done that one will receive the same treatment.
I hope that you are all enjoying Majora's Mask 3D as much as I am, and that you are looking forward to Stasis Chapter Two, where the Battle for of the East Field will really get rolling.
~The Wolfess a.k.a. Jennifer Wolfe
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