Author's Note: This certainly took far too long to write, but writer's block and school is to blame. Like with Shards of Time, I won't be able to update any of my stories as frequently as I did with Ancient Roots due to exams. They are coming in about seven weeks, and will last between early May to early June, but then there are holidays, and then I have the next two years of final education ahead of me again. My life is very fun right now, and as much as I want to write, I can't. Thank-you for the wonderful support, as it keeps me going when I am writing and when I am not.
"The pain we feel in separation is the price we pay for love."
~Hatef Mokhtar~
24
Three: Separation
~Link~
As soon as my eyes flutter open, I instantly feel a wave of fear course through my body. Blearily forcing my vision to take in my surroundings, the world is far too bright for me to intake it, so I hold myself in the land of darkness. The sensation of moving washes over me, although I am quick to realise that I am lying down and nowhere near in the position to move. Something gnaws at my stomach, and mere seconds pass before I am all ready too uncomfortable to stay in the "safety" of the world behind closed eyes.
Pressing my eyes to take in my location, I carefully push myself up. I sit on a small bed, the bed sheets falling from my body as I rise. I push my hand against the material, not fully understanding how clean and soft something could ever be. I can recall very little about the last time that I was conscious, none of them drawing forth any conclusions for why I am no where that I should technically be.
I crane my head up, noting a small table at the head of the bed with a door directly in the wall beside it. The curved lamp atop the table is something that is very unusual to places like the South, or many of the Provinces in general, only aiding further in making me feel even more confused. Directly opposite me is a large window that stretches across much of the wall, revealing a blur of green in a variety of tones, the sky a brilliant blue as the sun gleams down out of my view range; soft white clouds dragging themselves across the expanse of the skies around them.
My heart twists. Realisation dawns upon me.
I fly towards the window before I can fully register it, stumbling across the smooth floor as I go. My hands feebly clasp against the metal window frame, eyes staring out at the world as it zooms by without a hint of hesitation whatsoever. My mind tingles with memories of the last time that I was conscious, flashes of time forgotten slamming back into my body suddenly. My grasp around the window frame tightens, Viscen's cool voice whispering as if he stands behind me. "But it seems even the "best" can fall."
Insidiae. He can't have actually...
"Ah, it seems that you have regained consciousness." A quiet voice remarks from behind. I whirl around in shock, expecting to see Viscen and his lackeys towering over me, only to find everything but. Standing in the open doorway is a young woman, one that is a little shorter than me. She wears a simple grey attire in the form of a dress that falls halfway down her shins, nothing fancy embroidered into the fabric other than numerous thick silver lines that follow the edging of the hem of the skirt and neckline.
Her dark chestnut hair is scraped back so that I cannot see it, though I can see the blue tint against the sunlight. Her lavender orbs meet mine calmly, a white mask adorning half of her face almost angelic, but too sterile to be anywhere near that description. I lean back against the window, either to make myself feel somewhat comfortable or as a means of escape, I'm not sure.
"Who are you?" I ask just as quietly, lost in her piercing gaze. She steps inside, the door slotting shut in an instant. "What do you want?"
Her toes point outward like a dancer with every step that she takes, almost as if the world is her dance floor, her body almost floating as she moves. Her ankle high boots, grey, naturally, flick with every movement. "My personal designation is Fi." She introduces tranquilly, her tone almost robotic. "I have been appointed as your personal attendant as you are transported to Medius by high speed train. The journey will take approximately three days and five hours in duration, and you will then be transferred to the Insidiae Quarters."
"I..." I start, only for my voice to die off.
She smiles a little when I struggle to find the correct words, taking a singular step towards me. "Your lack of speech is understandable, although I may not seem to be much help when I must explain your situation to you." I shift my weight across, unnerved by her word choice, only to sag in defeat and gesture for her to continue. She simply nods and pulls up a chair, silently asking me to do the same with another on the other side of the room. "Many things have occurred while you have been unconscious. Now that your verdict has been dubbed as guilty, you have—"
"Guilty?!" I cry suddenly, my voice returning to me without warning. Fi cuts her clarification short, studying me suddenly with a startled gaze. "When did this happen?" I question suddenly, feeling forced into a corner by her words. "Why was there no hearing? No trial?"
She inhales deeply, boring her eyes into my own. "There was no trial or hearing because the President automatically dubbed you as a Traitor due to the amount of evidence that Captain Viscen had piled up against you. Therefore, there was no need for any form of defence from yourself." She explains to me soothingly. I watch her for a long time, silent, and she carries on without me. "Because of this verdict, you have been immediately sent out towards Medius to await the Insidiae Period: one where you shall wait for the rest of the Traitors to be captured before the Games are decided fully."
Something floods into my bloodstream, and I feel very small.
My eyes slowly lower to the ground, and a choking silence befalls the room. Fi goes to continue onward, but her voices hitches before she can. She's realised that I can't understand this, that I don't want to understand this, and mercifully permits me time to think. In the little hours that I have been unconscious for, Viscen has managed to do the one thing that he desired: make sure that I paid for the stunt that I helped to pull so long ago, something that I didn't believe until I saw it.
I blink up carefully to meet Fi's gaze, passing her a begging glance that wishes for her to say something. I don't want her to carry on, although I know that I can't dwell on my thoughts if there's more to come. "You are the twenty third Traitor that is a part of this time's Insidiae Games. No matter how long you shall stay in the Insidiae Quarters, you shall be held there until there are twenty four Traitors, however long it takes. Until then, food will be served at numerous points in the day, and shall be notified when those times are. When it is not served, you must either stay within your chambers or in designated rooms."
I'm still silent, too caught up in the idea of Viscen's wishes coming true. On the surface, I feel the dread from the Captain and what he has managed to do in a space of a few hours, but there's something else deep down that's frightening me more than anything. I would immediately believe that it is because of what I am being thrown into because of deserting the Army two years ago, yet there's another idea that freezes me down to the bone. As silence begins to clump up around the room again, it isn't long before it forces me into realisation.
My actions are the result of my "deeds", but it is Aryll who is going to reap the penalties of it; the more violent ones. Yes, she may have Telma and all of my friends (providing that none of them were shot) while I have nothing but death surrounding me, but this is the second time that I have deserted her. This is the second time that I have left her because of my stupidity and left her to a fate that she shouldn't deserve – and yet I have continued to leave her there anyway.
She hates me anyway, so a voice whispers how leaving her to die may prove myself, though it is seconds later before another one knows that she will perfectly enjoy the fact that I am about to die. I wouldn't blame her.
"Link?" I snap my head upwards, finding that Fi is staring at me intently with her lavender eyes. I stare back at her, unsure of what else to say or do other than watch her. "I understand that you are doubtlessly overwhelmed by the information that I have passed onto you. Do you wish to talk about this, or would you rather be alone?" Her tone is sweet and soft, allowing me to feel ever so slightly more comfortable here. However, it isn't much longer before I feel any more like an outcast that I have always felt like.
"I..." I mutter, swallowing thickly. "I need to be alone."
Fi almost seems confused at my response, as if she can't decipher something to do with me. This clouds her lilac eyes for a fraction of a second, although she soon masks this as much as the one that adorns her face, nodding simply and rising onto her feet. "Very well. I shall leave you to your thoughts." She returns the seat to its original position with extreme precision, stepping back towards the door that opens to her presence. She turns to me one last time in the doorway, watching me intently. "Do not despair for those you have been forced to leave behind. You would not count them among your highest friends if they did not trust you."
She leaves before I can respond, the door slamming shut behind her as soon as her garments flutter out of my train of sight. I stare at the door for a long time, trying my best to understand how I was that easy to read. There was only ever a few people in my life who could read my blank expressions like they were open books, and I don't count near strangers among them.
For some reason, though, something about her makes me feel like she isn't one who is against me, who is actually legitimately trying to make me feel better and sit in a far more comfortable position compared to before she had entered the room.
Before long, I cast my gaze back towards the window. It means nothing of what she said, or how she knew why to say that, a voice sneers from deep inside of me without any warning whatsoever. You're still stuck here. You still put yourself in this position, one that no fleeing will free you of. Are you happy now? Are you happy to know that Aryll isn't going to be safe now that everyone knows that she's related to a criminal? You're friends may not be even alive, and all you're thinking about is why someone said something to you. She hates you as much as everyone else does.
I hang my head in shame, knowing that it's nothing but the truth.
~Interlude~
The passionate sound of sobs soon began to decease in volume around the cave, becoming muffled and dreary as the emitter of the cries pushed their head deep into their curled up body. They pushed themselves onto their side, collapsing against the weak mattress beneath them. They didn't care for the groan that the mattress made, however, merging into a tight ball of pain and sorrow at the news.
You never should have left. You never should have left...
At the sudden decrease in volume, another figure in the room stirred against their sleeping position up the wall. They did not know of how much time had passed, as there was no holes or windows in the caverns that they resided inside of. Any of the people shying away from the sun world rarely ventured up to the surface, and even then such ideas like the time was not something to think about when you are completely and utterly hiding away from the sun and latching to the shadows of day and night.
The second figure hoisted themselves up with effort. Rubbing slightly at their eyes, the second figure cautiously stepped towards their companion, seating themselves on the dishevelled mattress and holding their palm above the crying figure's shoulder; unsure of whether to pat it comfortingly or not.
"You cannot keep this up forever." They spoke soothingly with a feminine tone. "You knew that this would happen sooner rather than later. You can't wear yourself down like this..."
The first person sniffed harshly in response, peeking out of their curled up form with crimson eyes rimmed with even more red; a sign that they were Sheikah. "I never should have left." The first Sheikah whispered hoarsely, also in a feminine voice, staring straight upwards at their elder companion as she repeated her reflecting thoughts. "I never should have left him behind, Impa. I could have protected him from all of this, b-but then I... I..." She broke into another bout of tears again, causing the elder figure to soften.
"You made that deal with me, remember?" Impa noted quietly. The first Sheikah's breath hitched. "After the attack, it was my duty to protect you from what this once fair Kingdom had become. However, if you were to stay near the Vessel for a year in order to follow the plan of fate, you were to come back with me to the North so that this Mission would not fall to calamity." Impa tightened her hand around the young Sheikah. "It is your duty."
"A duty that I did not want!" The young Sheikah near yelled in response, even if it sounded too muffled to be threatening. She unravelled herself, continuing to stare at the elder Sheikah with glittering eyes. "Impa, I didn't want this. I never wanted this. I have been denied of a life that I had always wanted to live because of... because of this!"
She held out her left hand, one that pulsated once in unison through the loose bandages wrapped around her hand; but the Mark was still clear to see. "You haven't been denied of anything! You have been honoured by the Goddesses!"
"So because of this "honour", I have been denied of him." Impa's shoulders slackened, and the first Sheikah pressed herself back up against the wall. "Impa, he thinks that I no longer exist..."
Impa tilted her head slightly, lying: "He does n—"
"He does, Impa. He believes that I am lost to this world. To him, all that happened that night was his promise to wake me up in the morning, but I..." Her stomach twisted with a jolt, causing her to flinch at the wild memories before her eyes. "He found nothing there. To everyone, I have been missing since that day, probably classed as dead." She twisted her body away from the elder Sheikah, tears slipping down her face. "I saw how he was when I first arrived, Impa. To think that I have left him to simply return to that fate is unforgivable. Wisdom is a healer, not a destroyer. I have done too much damage now..."
Impa lowered her head in shame for resorting to such lies that would clearly not fool the younger Sheikah. Nonetheless, the Sheikah elder sighed and opened her arms out to her companions, greeted hesitantly by the young Sheikah. Impa held her close, almost like a mother and child would. "Wisdom is neither a healer nor a destroyer. Wisdom is the more balanced virtue, and has ambiguous interpretations depending on who you are and what you believe in." The young Sheikah sighed softly. "He has Courage, and that will aid him more than anyone ever could."
There was a moment of silence, then: "Impa?" The Sheikah elder pulled away, eyes glimmering to urge the younger Sheikah onwards. "I'm going to help him."
And in those five words, Impa's stomach filled with a thick glacier of ice, begging to the Three that she did not hear those words being uttered. Her eyes widened in sheer shock, choking on the very air that she breathed in. The younger Sheikah kept her gaze solidly, determined not to allow this to be brushed under the radar like she had been for so long.
"You cannot be serious!" Impa exclaimed in pure grief. "He all ready has the verdict of being a part of the Traitors. You believe that by going to him, you will help him when he is beyond saving?" The younger Sheikah said nothing. "The Resistance will find a way to harvest what is needed before it falls into the wrong hands, but you cannot submit your power to the Insidiae. To do such a thing is... it is preposterous!" Impa rose to her feet and turned away from the young Sheikah. "Your power is far too great to be left in the hands of those who want nothing but the Golden Power from this world. You can't..."
The young Sheikah stared at Impa's back for a long time. She had always been prepared since the very day that she was taken to the North in order to be free and return to those who needed her the most. No matter what Impa had to say when she voiced her thoughts, she would not allow herself to be thrown away this time, only been labelled as the Vessel of Wisdom. She wanted a life that she had desired to live ever since she was a small child, still shackled by those labels.
And yet, that day would not result in the same way that the others had done.
"Then take it from me."
Impa, with a perplexed expression, turned to the young Sheikah with clenched fists. The tear stained Sheikah clenched her own fists back, staring down her elder with narrowed eyes. "What? I can't just—"
"You heard me." She responded calmly. "I don't want to be just the "Vessel". I want to be who I want to be, not what anyone assumes that I am. In rituals from legends, it was simple to extract the Triforce from one and hold it for yourself, and you hold the power to still complete those rituals. If you don't want me submitting my power, then take it for yourself, because I am going to Medius no matter what you say."
Impa searched for any form of wavering resolve in her eyes, finding nothing but steely crimson eyes that were hard and strong.
"Then what if I did take Wisdom from you, huh?" Impa questioned harshly, narrowing her gaze down on the one she needed to protect with her own life. "Have you forgotten that it was I who has protected you from death for these past few years? That I actually do care about you and don't want you to die so brutally, or anyway?" The young Sheikah avoided the gaze of her elder for too long, feeling the wilting gaze against the crown of her head. Impa continued to bore down, desperate for an answer from the rebellious Sheikah.
The young Sheikah sighed after a long, pregnant silence, raising her eyes to meet Impa's even, yet chilling ones. "I know, Impa. I understand that my life is technically a blessing, but to leave people to die over and over just so the hierarchy can show some display of dominance. It is a duty that was passed down onto me to look over this dying world, and I speak for the good of this Kingdom and in the name of the Wisdom that Nayru gave to me. I don't want to die, and I care for you too. You are my closest friend that I have, and I don't want to leave you alone again."
Impa was the one to turn her eyes down to the ground, unsure of how to compose herself.
~Link~
By the time that I manage to banish my inner thoughts to the back of my mind, Fi has returned for a moment to report that food is being served, and that it would be beneficial that I eat. As much as I would prefer to hole up in the accommodation that I have been given, I know more than anything that not eating will only result in my situation being worse off for myself than anything else. And, in all honesty, the lack of movement is beginning to get to me.
Not only does it make me uncomfortable and lazy, but it also makes me paranoid. And the last thing that I need right is paranoia.
Stepping out of the chambers, I stand in a long corridor. To my left leads further up the train, although the way is lit up with lights hanging from the walls, and the lack of windows creates an ominous atmosphere that causes my mind set to make sure that I stay away from there no matter what. While no other doors line the walls to my left, there is a singular door covered by a one guard.
A voice in the back of my mind is extremely curious to understand what is behind there, though another voice soon contradicts it with the simple fact that it most likely leads to the very front of the train with the controls; and a Traitor would not be wanted around there. Although, it's strange how I am easy to slip into the idea of being dubbed a "Traitor".
The guard, even through their helmet, passes me a glance that dares me to move closer, the array of knives strapped to their sides and legs along with the multitude of other weapons hidden from sight singing for my harm. I glance back in the other direction, and thanks be to Nayru, and the other way down the corridor offers a more more comfortable route. My stomach twists as I look back up at the guard, and I force my stiff limbs in the other direction before I can do anything else that is stupid.
The corridor is still rather dimly lit, though there are one or two more doors on either side of me as I walk, though it is less than a minute before there is one door to my left and one to my right. Neither of the rooms are guarded, but the to the right is clearly labelled: 'CARGO'. The left door, on the other hand, has a small pane of glass that looks into some form of dining and living area. Surprised that no one has given me much direction, except for Fi I guess, I step inside when it jolts into the wall.
The spacious room opens out around me, the door colliding back into the frame and locking me inside with whatever horrors await me. Large windows line the opposite side of the area, allowing light to flood in as the forests of the South shoot by. The plush grey carpet wiggles beneath my feet as I shift my weight, feeling alien against my shoes. The walls are also painted grey, though in some lights I can see hints of silver plastered over it. Three smothering sofa are arranged in a triangular shape, a glass table settled in the centre with a range of things that I have never seen before in my life.
Despite the dimness of the rest of the train, two large lights dangle from the low ceiling, illuminating the large mahogany table on the other side of the room that seats a minimum of six people, guards outlining the room while a single figure is sat at the large table, eating with their food with their back turned to me. I glance at the window one last time, begging that I could be outside of this train and finding my way back to Aryll, forcing my body into movement.
"You will not eat alone." Fi had explained to me before I arrived. "You shall not only be guarded, but also with one underneath the President who is watching over the entire transportation."
"Why?" I remember asking her.
She had only said one thing in response. "Be vigilant over what you do, Link, for anything that you do may result in a situation worse than the one that you are currently in." Fi always has a sense of mind to leave me more confused when she exits the room over when she first comes in. And yet, I take in her words, spotting her in the corner with her eyes flickering between the figure at the table and myself. Her piercing eyes are forcing me to recall what she said, and I have no doubts about ignoring it.
I send a prayer silently, bowing my head in respect for the ones who have placed this Trial upon me. 'I understand that I have regrets, and that you send Trials to those who have lost their touch with you, but I promise with all of my heart that I won't forget you. I may be a Traitor to this Kingdom, but I would never betray the true creators of this world, of my sister, and the people that I hold dear. Hear my call. Please.'
Inhaling, I weave my way around the maze of chairs before standing behind the chair opposite the figure, whose face is still covered from sight.
Struggling to make sense of the situation, I weakly clear my throat to catch their attention. They huff far too loudly to be subtle and raise their head to meet mine, bright orange embers staring at me. His, I soon realise, face is extremely pale, his nose drooping down much like the shape of a cat, marks stretching out from their mouth. His head is covered with metal implants, those and the neon blue stitching in his black, loose garments decorated with Twili designs.
My heart sinks, memories of Midna coming to mind. "That did not hurt, you dummy..."
His eyes burn into me, his voice deep and husky. "Sit." I obey instantly, my eyes catching Fi's as I do so. If I didn't know any better, her stomach caved in at the sight, her purple eyes soft and strangely motherly. Something at the back of my mind forces me to straighten as I take the seat. A pregnant silence ensues, and I sit there awkwardly, not fully sure on what to do. Numerous times I find my eyes moving to Fi, though she can offer little advice through the choking silence. So I sit there, lost in a daze.
The man continues eating, and it isn't much longer after the silence begins that a random attendant throws a plate in front of me as well. I stare at the meal, not capable of deciphering what it actually is. In the centre of the curved plate is some form of meat, though it seems shaped more into a human heart than anything, surrounded by a bed of greenery and drenched in a thin red liquid. My hand reaches for the cutlery, though I'm not sure how to handle such a thing before it. Prepared to fit in, I take on the meal with full force.
It isn't as bad as it physically could be, though my taste buds aren't used to such richness and amounts of food in its entire life, even from being a small child. Whatever the meat is, it feels less and less human as I eat more of it, my senses soon uncaring for what I am having and indulging in it. I try to slow myself down, but it's gone before I can act on it, my mind too out of it to fully register that the man has commented on something that I missed. I snap my head up, my stomach twisting at the strange grin that he holds.
"What is this?" I question as nicely as I can, ignoring whatever he said and placing the cutlery back on either side of the plate. While the food made be something that I am certainly not used to, it's definitely not ever going to be as good as the food from Telma's. He chuckles from his seat, lowering his gaze back down onto his food. I inhale deeply, holding my fists underneath the table to clench them into fists. "Is something funny?"
His laughter dies out as soon as the words drop from my tongue, steadily returning his deep orange eyes to me. "Yes." He purrs. "But I will not disclose such information to a Traitor. The Three only know what you could do with such information."
I bite down hard on my tongue, a part of my brain stamping down on my tongue and voice while the other forces my tongue to squirm about. I make sure that the former wins, though the thought of being forced into unnecessary submission to a man that I don't even know turns my stomach. Another part of me wants to excuse myself, but giving the likes of him the benefit of the doubt is something that I will never find myself resorting to. I straighten and unlock my teeth from my tongue.
"A wise choice. I've heard that controlling a resistance who knows all about the enemy is rather difficult, especially one against the President."
I can barely resist a smirk. While I hint to the last hours in which Daphnes was in power, there has been rumblings within the Provinces across the years after Ganondorf rose to power. There were very few in the South due to how poor it is, and we know better than to go fully against a power that could decimate us in hours, many in the East have occurred, and there is a group in the North that harshly resist that Ganondorf has struggled greatly to control.
I feel a presence behind me suddenly, yet I don't flinch. "You are in the presence of Zant Ohanzee." A random guard sternly scolds from behind. "You will watch your words carefully, Traitor." I tilt my head at the man opposite me, one whose eyes glitter with malevolence. The guard deists soon enough, but I barely register it at my realisation.
Zant Ohanzee, I think to myself. The "power behind the true power"... I continue to stare at the man before me, eyes narrowing in truth. I have no choice but to dwell on it, Zant returning to his food while the guards and attendants shift around the room so that I cannot figure out their work shifts.
Zant Ohanzee was the man who was never seen, yet pulled all of the strings behind the President. When Ganondorf stepped up into power, Zant was the closest advisor to him. He never made appearances in the first few years of power, working beneath the President in order to make sure that everything worked perfectly as Ganondorf raged on.
In the past few years gone by, Zant has made one or two appearances, although there was very little that I could physically see of him, and his cryptic language was more than confusing. And to see him now where I can see all of him for what he is, something is unnerving by that fact in particular. "Are you my mentor or something?" I ask quietly, cutting straight through the silence and hold myself back from using the knife beside me as a weapon.
Zant ignores me completely for a moment, licking his plump lips with a serpent-like tongue before snapping his fingers, a female attendant other than Fi appearing within moments to clear our plates away. After the attendant has left the room through a door behind me, Zant leans forwards onto the mahogany table. I don't allow myself to do the same, simply watching him and every shift that he does. He reveals a pearly white grin.
"You certainly surprise me, boy." He comments, ignoring my previous remarks about a rebellion. "But, in short, I am above you in all ways and would never be your mentor. Thankfully."
I struggle not to roll my eyes. "The feeling is mutual."
Like Viscen, I would expect him to make some remark back or send the guards on me like a coward, but he does none of that. Zant's mouth turns up into a feral grin, one that shines in some form of recognition that I simply cannot understand myself. Snatching the glass goblet from beside him, he swings it back and downs the drink, his smile never fading as his eyes return to me.
"You." He says sharply. "You will be a valuable asset against any rebellion once the President gets his hand on you."
"Stay with me..." I somehow manage to claw my way out of the hazy dreams that I have flown in and out of consciousness of for the past few hours. I had retired to my chambers earlier than was expected of me, finding that consistently staring out of the window and praying that this wasn't real soon made me too depressed to stay in the tense presence of those like Zant and the other guards, ones who constantly stared at me from across the sitting area.
Whatever drew me into the false territory of sleep is finally evading me, and I sit upright from my position, bored enough of looking upward at the ceiling until sleep returns to me. Zelda's voice finally fades away, the soft moonlight that drags itself down towards the horizon in the West illuminating the once dark room around me. With a wave of my hand, the lamp behind my bed switches on, an act that I am certainly still not used to.
I sigh deeply, slumping forwards in my position. No matter who has come to me in my dreams, every time I have awoken with an emptier heart than I had previous gone to sleep with. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, desperate to break free of the confinements of my room. I brush my feet against the carpet beneath me, attempting without avail to find some form of comfort in it.
Pushing myself up onto my feet, I step over to the door and extend my palm towards it, surprised when the door actually opens. I stare out at the blank corridor before me, the lamp attached to the walls dim and dull, barely lighting up the way down to the cargo hold and living quarters.
A wave of relief washes over me as I creep out into the cooler air, the humming of the train beneath me still present though. Despite the lack of guards present, I start to walk carefully down the corridor and towards the living quarters, halting near immediately when the only door behind me opens ever so slightly. I freeze up completely, stopping in mid-step in pure shock.
'Is everything in place?' My eyebrows knit together and I straighten, straining my ears to hear the crackling and muffled voice speak to another. Their tone is rather imposing, yet achingly familiar. I twist myself around, finding a light blue light filtering out of the slightly ajar door. A voice at the back of my mind screams for me to return to my room, remembering Fi's words automatically about not acting out of line, or else being thrown into a worse position than before.
I can feel my feet pulling my body back towards my chambers, my nightmares near forgotten, but then I realise something: "Sheik, you're all about sneaking about." A voice whispers into my mind. "That's what you told me after we first met, remember?"
A small smile creases my face at the memory, although I think deeper into what she meant now that I am alone. I have been acting underneath the radar of my superiors for more than two years now, meaning that if I have only been caught out now, then why do I need to hesitate when I am faced with a simple problem? Throughout all of today, I have been obeying every order given to me like a pawn, but I don't want to be a part of this game of chess any more; I don't want to be a part of this at all.
I press myself against the wall, sidling along it cautiously. I don't dare move any closer than a metre away before freezing up again, poking my head inside. Against my original thoughts, it isn't a way to the main controls of the train, but into a larger set of chambers that belong to one of a higher power. In this case, it apparently belongs to the only man present in the room: Zant Ohanzee. He stands with his back to the door in the centre of the room, speaking to some form of facial hologram on the large desk. Other personal items are not present, nothing but work littering the room.
"Everything is in place." Zant responds humbly, although I have to push myself to fully understand who he is talking to. "Twenty One and Two are all ready in place, and I have Twenty Three with me now. However," He adds before the first voice can speak, yet Zant become hesitant at the act of it. "I have heard nothing of twenty four other than there being a volunteer from the North, one of the Exiles, sir."
Exiles? I think to myself, narrowing my gaze at the floor for a moment. I thought that the Sheikah were not supposed to take part in any events once they were banished to the Northern Mountains...
'Hmm.' The first voice muses in response, returning my eyes to the room. I can't fully see their face, though their heavy tone makes me come to the conclusion that they are male. 'Are you positive about him, Ohanzee?' He asks moments later, doubt hanging in his voice that causes the latter to shrink back a little. 'I did not send the troops out to lock down part of the South in order to capture a criminal that does not have the Courage that I need...'
It's the President, I suddenly realise. But why would you need Traitors with courage?
"I am certain." Zant responds simply, taking a moment before expanding. "His Captain had noted his particular display of courage that regarded him high by many, and none have seen anything like him before, even after he escaped." My breath hitches. I know who they're talking about, but I do and don't want to know what they are planning. "I plan on testing this potential for Courage, though I am more than sure that he is the Chosen Vessel." My chest constricts from lack of oxygen, but also because of what I am hearing.
When I was growing up, there was stories about "Chosen Vessels", three chosen by the Holy Sisters to house one of three shards of the Triforce that most matched their attributes: Courage, Wisdom, and Power. In many legends, Power was usually male, extremely greedy, and dragged Hyrule to the brink of ruin more times than I can physically count. Wisdom was most likely the leader or heir of Hyrule, and had few limits in knowledge and lore of the land, bearing much magic.
Many artifacts of these stories around Wisdom and the Royal Family are real, though it is difficult to prove the magic of Wisdom when the art of magic was banned ever since Ganondorf came to power; though few ever explored it before that either.
And, finally, Courage was none other than the most well known of them all, being the centre of all children's stories; which included my own too. Courage was near always a young boy who rose to the power of their Triforce piece, clad in green of all things, slaying the bearer of Power to restore peace to Hyrule. The names of these Vessels have changed across time, yet it is only the children who believe them up until they have come of age enough to understand that none of these stories can actually come true. Those like Aryll still believe, but I never will.
A greedy thief, a wise Princess, and a courageous Hero? It screams childishness and lies, so I have no reason to believe it at all.
Why would the President, of all people, believe such a story? I thought that the leader of a country was the person who had much knowledge on the Kingdom's humble beginnings were these stories were most prominent, but would understand that they don't exist. Daphnes, before he was so viciously killed, did follow those stories, and conducted much research into the history of Hyrule that was so unknown; even if most of them ended coldly as if anything the Old Gods wanted us to no know withheld such information.
That doesn't matter, though. What matters is the fact that both Zant, one extremely high up in the hierarchy, and the President himself believe that I am the Vessel of Courage. A Hero. I could never be hailed with such a title after all that I have done, let alone hold part of the Golden Power that is perceived as myth now.
'You will face my wrath once again if he does not possess what I want.' The President warns gravely. 'Many who you supposed held Courage were killed at my hand, and yet not so much as a glitter from the Golden Power came from them. If he is not the one...' He leaves the threat hanging by a sliver of a thread, and I can feel myself leaning forwards in pure intent.
"He will be the last to die, sir. I have no hint of hesitation now." The President hums in reply, clearly not buying what his companion is saying. At the back of my mind, the way that the President speaks with such potency and strive to find Courage creates the children's story that my parents had always told me as a child. In a strange sense, he reminds me a little of how my father would create a voice for Power, his tone almost exact when I close my eyes. "All that is left is Wisdom, yet all of the Presidential hierarchy were killed days before you rose to power."
I leave my support of the wall and shuffle closer to the door, far too curious on their conversation to allow it to drop at this point. I drop my guard for a single moment so that I can fully see the room. 'One Vessel at a time, Zant. While it would be far more than a miracle from the Holy Three that both Vessels were together, we cannot rush destiny. At some point, the two Vessels are fated to be drawn together, and that is when I shall pounce. For now, make sure that—'
He abruptly cuts himself off, glowing eyes meeting something that I only realise once it's too late: me.
With wide eyes, I jerk out of both his line of sight and the light from the hologram instantly, my heart suddenly pounding in my ears. I barely hear the sound of the attention that I have caused in the room before my body is acting on its own, rushing towards my room once again. I reach out for the handle that retracts into the door when it opens, only used in case of emergency, clawing at it while constantly checking to see whether I have caused too much madness.
I can feel the colour draining from my face when I feel nothing but the hard, smooth door against my hands, the door created in such a way that if it had been locked, it could still be opened from the inside, however there would be no way back inside for the Traitor. My heart sinks, and I throw myself once, twice, three times against the door; it doesn't budge. I push back whatever panic begins to settle inside of me, though that fails miserably when something shifts out of the corner of my eye.
Coming to terms with the fact that colliding bodily against the door would not have been the quietest action that I could have done, I notice Zant's tall shadow crawling across the floor and out of the door. I stumble backwards, my only option left being to run and find somewhere else to go. Brain spiralling out of control, I cart my body head first down the corridor, my feet softly banging against the floor with every step that I take. Behind me, I can see the light of the hologram flickering out, the door opening further outward.
I skid into a stop at the very end of the corridor, finding one door finally open. I don't dare go into the chambers for the guards on duty, leaping straight inside of the living quarters as soon as I find that it jars open with force. A strange coolness comes over me as I break inside, a sensation of unnatural calm bubbling upward from my stomach. The lights illuminate the room softly, white lights not as artificial and wrong as I would expect them to be, reflecting against the silver of the walls around me.
Several guards are dotted around the room as they were this morning and afternoon, yet there are far less now – only five, from what I can see. "Why are you out of your chambers, Traitor?" A guard to my immediate right inquires, making me jump ever so slightly at his audacity.
"Had some nightmares." I explain hesitantly. "Couldn't sleep." I suppose, in a way, it isn't a lie. I did have nightmares, and I couldn't sleep. The guard doesn't quite believe me, even if I can't see their eyes properly, though he does permit me to stay inside and I cross over to the window, placing my palms against the cool metal frame and staring out at the world as it shoots by. My eyes soften, my thoughts exploring deeper than usual.
I'm not quite sure how many times I have done this: stare out of any window as if all of it doesn't seem real, more than desperate to take it all for my own. I remember my mother doing it once, sitting out the back of our home on the porch, her and my father holding each other close. They had argued hours before, over what I can't remember, but remembering them is enough to cause my eyes to become warmer than usual.
The Eastern coast glitters at me in recognition. The East is one of the more natural areas of Hyrule compared to the other Provinces, the Great Sea stretching on for thousands of miles past the horizon and a place that I am thankful for growing up in, far away from the technological aspects of Hyrule that I have grown to detest with all of my heart. The Great Sea gleams in the distance, the waves rippling into rich foaming lines that crash against the shores that I can barely see the slivers of from here.
The moon is far on into its cycle, its broad crescent hanging across the midnight fabric of time across most of the horizon. The stars, almost snuffed out by the lights emitted by the train and tracks, wink at me kindly. If I could crawl out of the window and watch them out of the confinements of this vehicle, I would without any hesitation.
But, before the thought process of my failure of freedom finishes, I turn at the sound of the door opening. Zant's tall figure steps inside, thin figure smothered in dark robes, orange eyes trained on me. I press myself back up against the window, silent as he shifts closer to me silkier than a shadow itself. "Oh," He comments slyly. "I didn't expect to see you awake at such a time. Lingering thoughts?" He stops within a step away from me, and I struggle to answer at first.
I swallow thickly, twisting back around to the window before replying: "I think that it's all a little overwhelming to think about."
He joins the spot beside me, watching the ocean. At the back of my mind, I hope that nothing was said about my presence outside of his chambers before. The view of the East is becoming less and less comforting as time goes on, my eyes glancing towards his glittering ones every now and again to judge when he will speak.
When I think that he is going to leave, his pale fingers wrap around the window frame. "I suppose that becoming overwhelmed with such an idea does not help when you are drawn to situations to which you should not be present in, hmm?"
I curse silently.
Turning to him, I tilt my head ever so slightly, hoping that imitating an innocent look will allow my inner feelings will be masked greatly. "I'm sorry." I say as politely as I can, no matter how much I want to lunge at him in attack. "I don't quite understand. I'm prone to insomnia, and all of this hasn't helped all that much. I just wanted to clear my head and..." I feel trapped inside of my own body, my voice not sounding right as my body allows it to finally die off at the glint in Zant's eyes.
"It seems that years of evading the sight of your superiors and latching to the shadows has allowed you to become somewhat acceptable to cloaking the truth with lies." Zant remarks, turning on me. "But it helps none when those superiors know the truth, isn't it?" I pull away a little, although the furthest I can reach is the wall beside the window before I realise that guards are posted at points that I do not want them to be.
Case in point: I have Zant on one side and a guard behind me; my very escape covered by guards too.
I scan the room tightly, attempting to fully assess the situation before I do anything. As I do so, Zant glides across the floor until he is standing just over a metre away from me, another guard subtly slipping into his previous place before I try to run like I have done before. I stare Zant down as much as I can, not allowing myself to become stuck in his web of fear.
"All right," I hold my hands up a little, my lips pursing downward slightly into a frown. "I heard murmurs from your chambers when I came to clear my head, but that's all. I heard nothing of any interest to me or—"
Zant, before I can even finish lying straight through my teeth, grabs a crystal goblet on the side board, one that holds many liquors and glasses, taking it into his bony grasp and throwing it at me. I dodge at it flies towards me, feeling the shards from it shattering against my cheek as it collides straight into the wall centimetres away from my head. "Do not speak such lies!" He commands, my stomach curling inward at his sheer volume. "You believe that being granted the title of "Traitor" gives you the right to be a part of this Kingdom?!"
"I—"
I cover my face with my arms as another glass comes flying at me, the pieces etching themselves into my skin. I drop my arms and ready myself to defend myself from whatever he literally intends to throw at me next, only to find myself unprepared to see him within inches of my face. I would stagger back if I had the space too, though Zant has locked me against the wall long before I can even process the thought, raising one of the shattered goblets towards my face.
"Come on then, Courage boy!" He snarls viciously, saliva spitting against my cheek. "Are you worthy of the honour?" He raises the goblet threateningly, yet none of the guards don't even twitch in order to restrain Zant. I open my mouth to protest, to question both this apparent "honour" of the Traitor title as well as the courage that supposedly wield, but something in my heart stops me completely.
His eyes glimmer once, and a sight draws me away from reality completely.
An image flickers across my vision. I stand in another Realm completely, encircled by rings of fire that the wind fans wickedly. The whirlwind radiating outwards from the churning coal and scarlet clouds whip against my clothes and skin, leaving me open to the elements as I stare down the masses of shadow in front of me. I can barely see the eyes of the beast whimpering before me, forced onto its hands and knees by a hand that I no doubtlessly can call my own. It breathes heavily, and yet it does not scream for mercy like it should do, its breath hot against my cold skin.
"Link!" Through the eyes of who I assume is myself, I turn to find a young, dark haired woman. She watches me with kind sapphire eyes, ones flowing with kindness and a deep sense of emotion that I have rarely seen in people. She is dressed much like the early leaders of Hyrule had worn, her gloved hands raised towards the great beast; a golden light retreating back around her fingertips. She meets my gaze evenly, her fair hair flying wildly around her pale skin. "I can use my magic to hold him back." She nods to something in my hand. "Let's end it. Together."
Love, I think to myself calmly. It's love in her eyes...
In Zelda's eyes.
I break out of whatever washes over me with a gasp, eyes widening when I realise that my body moved without my consent, too submerged in those images to realise that I now hold Zant how he held me; fist raised into the air. They glitter in a strange sense of triumph, something that does not faze me in any way. In seconds, the images blur through my brain over and over, lost in a cycle of doom. It's only when I feel my skin burning that something shifts inside of me.
The back of my left hand, one that rises by itself to try and restrain Zant, glitters in reaction to something.
Zant's eyes widen almost as much as my own do, and he has snatched my wrist to study every skin cell visible to the naked eye. My lips part in shock over the images and what happened while I saw them, my entire form slackening at the sensation that courses through my entire body. I can hear the guards rushing forwards, though it sounds underwater more than anything. In the distance, far out of my hearing range, I can hear Zant's voice dominating all.
"He is far too pathetic to be a threat, and also far too valuable." He explains, snapping his fingers to bare snap me from my daze. "Someone find that attendant. Fay? Fah? Whatever her name is, find her. I have some..." He pauses to think. "Important business to attend to."
I can feel him brush me aside, my eyes barely catching the near demonic grin that stretches far across his face. I pivot slightly to watch him leave, but my eyes and mind are both far too distant to register it. Every few blinks that I take, the images protrude my vision. The guards rest as Zant files out of the room, holding themselves away from me as I continue to have a staring contest with nothing in particular; orbs fazed and distant.
Time suddenly means very little to me, passing by at a rate that I cannot understand nor care much about. I haven't obsessed over things such as time in years.
Fi's voice cuts through the air after a period of time, questioning something that I am too dazed to think about responding to. She eases me onto the ground, resting my back against the wall and tending to the numerous glass shards that embedded themselves into my skin. One or two winces escape me while she pulls them free of my face and arms, although she soon gives up on attempting to get through to me and inquire on my mental well being. I rest my arm on my knee, holding the back of my hand up to see while Fi tends to it.
It isn't clear, yet the small glow emitted from before pulsates once before dying out like a snuffed out candle, but it is there. "I plan on testing this potential for Courage, though I am more than sure that he is the Chosen Vessel." What he had done was to test me in some way, but why didn't it happen before at other points of my life? My worth in the world hasn't changed, yet it seems that fate believes so. I can't ever understand how everything works, but I sure as Hell know that this isn't real.
Maybe it was the shine in his eyes...
Either way, I can only think of one thing: What's happening to me?
