You Are Your Heart
Screams. And then silence. With my feeling senses as sensually as they should have! I felt a remarkable detachment from the world - or perhaps, my own world - ever since I had arrived at the Midair Stadium. Now was no different, except that I could not remember distinctly if what I sensed was a dream or not. My memory was hazy. For all I knew, I was in limbo, somewhere between the feeling and unfeeling.
By the time I had woken up out of my comatose-like state, I was standing in a dimly lit holding cell, surrounded by iron and steel shrapnel. I could not comprehend how I could still even be alive. The feeling of life surging through my veins brought a rekindling to my brain. Was I was given a second chance, at life, of all things?
But for what reason, I did not know. Did the reason really matter? I was alive, and that simple fact was all that mattered to me during that instant of realization and recreation.
I looked over my shoulder to see Zelda, standing next to me, looking as equally as bewildered as I was. Seeing her in that lavishly embroidered dress with a look of distress brought me more comfort than I would ever have wanted to admit. I couldn't help but feel a little relieved to not be alone in this situation. Loneliness often drove someone to wish for such excruciating circumstances.
Still, we were together, bound together once more by the strange string of fate. We looked at each other, examined each other more thoroughly than we would perhaps ever do so to ourselves. An equal feeling of understanding came between us, I felt. We had returned to the land of the living, if we ever even left in the first place.
Death was not a matter anymore.
Death was not a matter anymore.
How silly that sentence could ever even be uttered, or even thought. I kept this thought in the back of my brain, as Zelda and I turned our heads to meet our savior.
A rugged, gritty sort of man stood in front of us, carrying what seemed to be explosive on belts straddled across his chest. He was toting more guns on him than I could count, and was wearing a clean cut, black bandana that contrasted with his unkempt stubble. And his eyes – cold and calculating – made him look more menacing than any other person I had come across so far. One would think that this person would be trying to kill us and become our terrible reaper. But I had felt immediately, instinctively, that he was not the one to take our lives away from us. Quite the opposite.
Indeed, my feelings were correct. The man cocked his head over to the hallway behind him, and pointed at us to stay in place. Presumably he wanted us to stay out of danger. Why, he did not tell us. Then, without a sound, he left the room faster than I could blink.
Zelda and I exchanged looks of confusion. Again, I felt a mutual understanding come between us. Did the man really believe that we were going to listen to him? He was probably another one of the invitees, but that did not give us any more reason to believe in him. But, I also knew that I felt as though I had an obligation to repay the man for his supposed rescue of us, and to contribute overall for the fight against any unknown forces.
After all, when we – the invitees - were stuck in a predicament like this, as beings of separate universes with no easy way to communicate, there was nothing to rely on except for the abilities of our bodies for expression. Perhaps one time we were united, but now we are split, very unduly so. We were like the people scattered from the Tower of Babel without a common language, having some cruel, twisted fate bestowed upon us by the murky depths below – or perhaps the gods from above. This simile was truer than I would have liked it to be. Putting the power of language aside, what other use was my own body in this situation? How could I help us all to return to our usual lives? Of all the things that I could be, I was most likely to be a liability.
Still, at least life and death did not matter anymore. There was nothing to hold us back from exhibiting our full potential, our endless desires to be freed from unwanted situations and reclaim as much control over our lives as we possibly could. No goal was unattainable at this state, for those that had the ability to do so – a rather empty claim, as that applied to anything, whether the brain limiters were on or off.
But even so, what abilities did I have? Once again, I was stumped. My battling abilities were definitely lacking, and would not be seeing quick improvement anytime soon. I had to make use of what I could do, instead of dreaming up powers that I didn't have.
Zelda had her magic. She had shown me on our first meeting in the Midair Stadium. I could still remember it clearly: a small, burning kindle of a flame, hovering above her open, outstretched hand. I remember gasping at the sight, leaning in closer to see if it was real. The heat generated by the flame proved it real to me enough.
But I didn't have any powers like that. I didn't have any magic or hokery-pokery. And I definitely didn't make up for my lack of magic with strength. So I would ask myself again: What abilities did I have? If I didn't know – I who should have been the one who knew myself best - then there had to be someone else who could have told me.
A clink of clashing metal snapped me back to reality. I blinked, and suddenly saw Zelda dancing alluringly right in front of my eyes. Zelda smiled at me, putting a finger over her lips in a gentle "Shh"-ing gesture.
Much to my surprise, I realized that Zelda was telling me a secret of hers. She, who I considered to be someone a little less than a stranger, confided in me with a piece of her most precious of knowledge. Although she didn't do it vocally, she showed her secret to me right before my eyes.
I saw her twirl her bangle-covered wrists mysteriously and from the dance a blinding flash of light.
The woman that stood before me was nearly unrecognizable. Instead of the finely embroidered dress fit for royalty, Zelda was now wearing a skin-tight suit that revealed a lean physique I would never have expected out of her. Her head was covered by a balaclava and her body was covered with gauze bandages. The only aspects of her appearance that were remotely similar was her long hair – now tied into a long braid – and the assorted bangles that still rested on her wrists. She would have been truly a stranger if her eyes – the most telling facial feature - were different. But no, her eyes were still mostly the same – a calm and determined hazel brown, although they did look a little red under the dim lighting.
Zelda met my stares with an appreciative smile. She flaunted her looks around for a bit, with the full intent of allowing me to examine her new appearance further. I was amazed by this shapeshifting magic and wondered a great many things about it. After a few minutes, however, we both knew that our time was short and we had to get going if we were to proceed on our own reconnaissance trip.
We opened the door, and a blinding rush of light and wind flooded in, battering and uplifting my dress. I quickly clutched my crown above my head in one hand and pushed down my fluttering dress with the other. After we waited a few seconds to let our eyes adjust, we examined our surroundings more thoroughly.
Judging from the endless sea of clouds and shining rays of sunlight piercing through the metallic door, we were on an aircraft, one that seemed to be a battleship. For a moment, I wanted to take in the sights and simply bask in the marvelous feeling of having the wind blow all of your worries away. But the wind prohibited me from daydreaming and let me focus on making sure my crown and other accessories were held in place, along with my intentions.
Zelda, in her new guise, was much more free from the burden of buoyant fabric compared to me. The two of us let ourselves get accustomed to the wind before deciding to continue, with Zelda taking the first risky step outside. Thankfully, there was a platform on the outside of the ship, granting us a precarious passage - but a passage nevertheless - to what was presumably the deck of the ship.
My guess was spot on. Within a matter of minutes - painstaking as they might have been - we clambered past the last few steps onto level ground.
If I thought my initial view of the sea of clouds was breathtaking, then the sight of the the sky from the deck was life-taking. I had surely seen such sights from the many times I sat in the seat of a plane, but standing outside like this made any previous sight of mine pale in comparison. The sound of the wind was deafening, but it made the experience feel all the more sensual. I marveled at everything, from the rushing clouds to the fresh air to the fact that I was able to stand without feeling any worry of getting blown off the ship. Indeed, the whole thing felt like such a spectacle, much like everything else I had come to experience.
Zelda probably noticed my thoughts were going astray, though, and clasped my hand in hers to bring me back to my senses. She gave me what I thought was a reassuring smile from behind her balaclava, judging from the light creases around her eyes. She tugged on my hand gently to incite me to follow her, and follow her I somewhat involuntarily did, as even her touch could not prevent me from feeling a little dazed.
Before I knew it, Zelda had led me to the front of the ship, right near where the prow was, surrounded by a myriad of cannons that threatened to go off at any minute. Our journey was made possible by the surprising lack of presence; we had not seen one person yet aside from that bearded man earlier. But that did not make the place seem any less threatening.
Indeed, I thought the cannons could have gone off at any moment, and wanted to convince Zelda of the danger once I had known where we were.
Right when I tried to free myself from her grip, however, we both must have heard a deafening explosion. My worst fears were confirmed. The cannons were blasting! Did the crew of the ship finally take note of our escape? Had they finally found us?
Apparently, the cannons' target was not us. Not that they could have aimed for us, having been set into the sides of the ship, thankfully. The cannons were aimed upward. Their crosshairs were focused on something in the sky. My eyes automatically did the same.
In the sky was a fighter jet, judging by the streamlined appearance and rather artistic dodging maneuvers it was performing. I noticed that whoever was piloting the plane had a preference for doing sideways rolls, a tactic that I should have kept in mind in case this person was our enemy.
Zelda was probably thinking the same, as she stood by me staring resolutely at the sky. As I looked at her, once again I was struck by just how utterly remarkable her transformation was. Truly, I imagined that such a skill could have been my saving grace on many occasions.
I did not have much time to think about much else however, when I felt an explosion erupt from behind me. I dove forward and tried to scream, but ended up taking gulps of what tasted like volcanic ash instead. Coughing, I quickly covered my mouth with my sleeve and searched for Zelda, hoping dearly that she did not get caught in the blast.
After the smoke around me cleared, what lay in front of me seemed as though it came right out of an action movie.
Zelda, in her transformed state, was clashing with a well-dressed, furry creature. The two of them were performing somersaults, leaps, dodges that seemed to exceed human proportions, doing things that only the most skilled of stuntmen could have done. Glass littered the area, and it was a wonder that neither of them made a faulty step. The cannons had stopped firing, I noticed. And it seemed that the two had not noticed me yet. Watching them made me feel a pang of envy of their fighting skills.
But wait! Why was I watching them? Wasn't my committment to improving myself created so that I would take more courses of direct action?
Without thinking any further, I had begun to dash across the deck of the battleship, faster than I had ever dashed before. As soon as I reached the two fighting – getting glimpses of their rather terrifying close-combat briefly – I had thrust a hand in urgency, not even considering the danger I was getting into.
Much to my surprise, the two of them paused to look at me, a possible distraction. Were they really that willing to let up their defenses so easily? I couldn't believe it.
I shouldn't have been surprised by now, seeing how complacent most of the people have been, but even so, I've always found myself just waiting in anticipation for the next enemy. I didn't want to experience the whirling mass of thoughts if I think I've died again.
And look at me now! I'm actually trying to comfort someone that is fighting with Zelda, the one person that I had come to trust the most during my stay in this strange world. It would take only a moment out of the world for me to get blasted by a knife or take a gunshot wound through the heart.
But to my disbelief, and presumably this vulpine as well, suddenly the three of us were sharing a cup of tea. I was standing between the two of them, pouring out refills as gently as I could without spilling any. We were having tea on a battleship. A battleship, of all places!
How absurd!
Yet at the same time, how fitting...
I noticed Zelda giving me a small wink from behind her balaclava. How she could sip any tea under that mask, I did not know. But that was a mystery to unravel on another day. We had more pressing matters to attend to, such as introducing ourselves to our new companion.
I suddenly pointed to myself, surprising both Zelda and the vulpine.
With determined and focused eyes, I said clearly:
"Peach."
Zelda caught my meaning. She pointed to herself and said on cue:
"Zelda."
The both of us then pointed and looked expectantly at the newcomer who had a look of disquiet on his face.
In a quiet yet clear voice, the vulpine uttered:
"Fox."
He looked so relieved.
I know I was.
He must have noticed, for he suddenly gave me a small, slightly sheepish smile.
And for what felt like ages, I returned his smile with a smile of my own.
. . .
Until that day, I had never realized that perhaps my strongest suit, my trump card for my freedom, lied in the one ability I had disregarded the most.
The ability to stop the fighting.
For the first time in a long while, I was glad that I was myself.
A/N: Slight changes to the plotline in the Subspace Emissary, so I apologize for that, and other gaping holes in the plotline. I understand that the ending came off a little abrupt. Zelda referring to herself as Zelda instead of Sheik at times was also for better understanding. Also, I realized I left out a segment Peach's worry for Mario... It is a bit too late to incorporate it in now. Whoops.
This is the first time, I think, that I have ever really delved into a narrative so deeply. It was a nice exercise, and a pleasure to write. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
