Eight


The skies are covered with unnaturally dark clouds that look as if they will spew out rain at any moment, somehow orange of colour, but Zelda has been told that this is perfectly normal, that the skies in the Twilight Lands look like this no matter what.

It is the first time she visits this part of her realm, yet as she looks around, as the chariot pulls her towards the hill, she wonders why.

Sombra is the biggest city she's ever seen, twice the size of the capital at least. Where Castle Town is bright and busy, Sombra is studded with mostly dark buildings that reach high into the sky, and filled with thousands upon thousands of people (most of them living in poverty); people who hide in their decrepit buildings all day long, only to leave them on special occasions, at least that's how it feels to Zelda.

When she peered out from behind the curtains for the first time as the carriage drove her through the city two days ago, the streets seemed deserted. A few merchants offering fruit behind oaken booths hidden between two dark buildings, then a couple streets later, a man selling shoes. The people who scurried through the broad main street she could've counted on her hand, and she couldn't stop staring at this city that seemed like the polar opposite of Castle Town, usually bursting with life. The sheer ugliness of this place fascinated her then, and it fascinates her now.

Right now however, there are more people on the streets than there are goats in the lands around Lake Hylia (which is a lot): Children in rags and noblewomen and smiths and whores have all crawled out of their holes to catch just a single glimpse of their queen as she rides towards the Arbiter's Grounds.

The crowd blocks the entire breadth of the Bridge of Eldin, a shaky old thing that looks massive enough to let twenty horses pass shoulder to shoulder, but the mass of people parts just enough to let Zelda's chariot pass.

Had she had the choice, she would've hidden behind veils and shields. But she doesn't, so all that guards her from her subjects on the bridge are a dozen members of the Black Hands running alongside her chariot. Zelda knows that if the crowd panics, she and her handful of bodyguards will get crushed. So she smiles her fears away and takes a deep breath as the horses set foot on solid ground again and pull her through an arch of triumph made of dark stone.

The foot of the hill is near already, the two slim towers of the Mirror Chamber almost piercing the rain soaked clouds. What's left of the Arbiter's Grounds are ruins, the huge arena torn down years ago. A temple has been built in its place to remind the people of the realm of the perseverance and courage of the two armies who jointly ended the Twilight Lands' plight two decades ago, when Zelda's then young father, the King of Hyrule, and Hilda, the Princess of Twilight, prevailed over the Gerudo forces.

The chariot comes to a halt once it has reached a narrow path too steep for the horses, and the crowd is no longer willing to make way. The queen already steps out before the chariot's entirely stopped moving, grabs her dress and starts climbing the stony way, while the Black Hands hurry after her to secure the sides.

It is a hot day, and the climb is a short but demanding one. Zelda feels the sweat run down her body as she reaches the top of the hill, thankful for the silken creation with the plunging neckline and the slit at her leg. For once though she would've preferred to wear something light instead of the dark gray that attracts all the warmth of the day. Black embroidery decorates the dress, and a body chain hugs her form, complicating the queen's climb. Although the sun is nowhere to be seen, where the gold touches Zelda's bare skin, it almost sears her.

Someone waits for her with an extended hand at the top, but Zelda ignores that person and climbs the last three steps on her own. Thousands are gathered in front of the temple, but the main square leading to the Mirror Chamber's entrance is empty save for a few officials and the Twilight Princess herself, all waiting for the Queen of Hyrule to join them for the ceremony.

The subjects waiting here on the hill must be the most devoted ones, for while the crowd in the city witnessed the queen's journey in curious and very disturbing silence, an uproar goes through those who have gathered here. Half of the people throw themselves on their knees while the other half seemingly goes berserk and pushes against the wall of guards that separates them from the nobility. Chaos reigns around Zelda, and ignoring the screams of her subjects, she purposefully marches towards the Twilight Princess, who waits between two statues of wolves.

The crowd's noise ultimately grows deafening the second Midna comes up to meet Zelda and kneels at the feet of her queen in the middle of the square. Midna's hair shines like a beehive set on fire in the weird light, and her light blue skin glows with sweat; Zelda is relieved to see that she isn't the only one burning up.

As is the custom, Midna takes the queen's hand and holds it to her forehead, loyally fixing her gaze on the cobblestone pavement beneath her. "My Queen. May the blessings of the Goddesses be upon you, Zelda Harkinian." She looks up then, her ruby stare meeting Zelda's crystal one.

Zelda pulls her hand away and touches Midna's shoulder, giving her leave to stand up, and the Twilight Princess slowly rises as the peasants around them scream and shout and give the ring of guards a hard time keeping them away from the square.

"Three years has it been, and the day has finally come," Midna speaks with damp eyes while her hands search for Zelda's. "Twenty years ago your father and my grandmother laid the foundations for what we have now, and I can only thank them."

Zelda does feel a certain warmth in her heart at seeing her friend after so much time as well, but if there's one thing she hates, it's sickly sentimentalism. "Let us go inside and honour the Goddesses now. There will be enough time to talk once we get back."

Midna lowers her head, the silver headgear that holds her hair and covers her forehead chimes. They step towards the temple's gate, pass between the wolves, one black, one white, and disappear in the bowels of the Mirror Chamber. The noise of the peasants is shut out as the doors close. Suddenly the pleasant cold of the dark temple settles on Zelda's skin, and the air stinks like mold and moisture.

Two priestesses come hurrying towards the two royals, each carrying an unlit torch. Zelda receives hers and follows Midna towards the gigantic burning brazier underneath a golden triforce in the back of the temple. As a tribute to the fire that annihilated the Gerudo host so long ago and burns in the temple to this day, they are to light the wolves' mouths. Apparently the fire then burns for exactly one day short of a year, and the day after that the annual ceremony is held. The past years Midna has been carrying the torch on her own, but this is the twentieth anniversary, so Zelda has come down from the north to pay her respects as well.

Both women then kneel in front of the brazier, and three priestesses, one clad in blue, one in green, one in red, bless their foreheads one after another to grant the Queen of Hyrule and the Twilight Princess strength, courage, and wisdom.

Midna stands up first to dip her torch into the fire in solemn silence, then Zelda steps to the brazier and sticks her torch into the flames. It's ablaze as she pulls it out, and the fire warms her skin in a good way and lights the dark way back to the doors a little bit.

With a terribly loud creak, the massive bronze doors swing back open, revealing the odd darkish day of the Twilight Lands. The people have still not stopped screaming. A gust of hot wind slaps Zelda in the face, tangling her hair and setting the heavy chains around her body into motion. To her left, Midna turns her head for a second and nods with smiling eyes. Then she walks out of the Mirror Chamber's shadows, and Zelda does the same.

The crowd is now going insane; thousands of people are holding thin burning sticks into the air, waving them around like some sort of pyromaniacs.

Unerringly putting one foot in front of another, Zelda marches towards the wolf of marble that is waiting for her with its muzzle roaring a silent roar. The terrible weather is not what is making her feel constricted; it's the several thousand people gathered around the square who steal what little breathable air is left up here, who are the cause for the pressure on her chest and the leaden feeling in her legs. But she blends them out of her consciousness as good as she can and stares at the wolf, its golden teeth reflecting her lit torch.

Before she feels like the heat and screams of the crowd can force her to her knees, Zelda reaches the wolf and throws the torch through his fangs in a hasty motion. She turns to Midna to see her returning to the middle of the square, so Zelda mechanically starts walking back there too. A Twili archer in festive attire (in other words, almost naked) is standing in the middle of the triforce-shaped square. A dozen guards and a priestess holding a small, burning brazier are waiting for the two women as well.

Midna then takes the brazier from the priestess while Zelda grabs the arrow the archer holds out to her, then puts it into the flames. The oil-soaked arrow bursts into flames so suddenly that she almost drops it, but with enormous effort she manages to keep herself from shying away from the sudden explosion of hot death in her hands. The archer has enough sense to immediately take the burning arrow back, and Zelda steps to Midna's side to stare up at the giant golden triforce that towers at the top of the temple.

Stepping forward, the archer takes aim, pulls back the arrow and lets go. During a few short moments, the burning thing shoots through the air, and Zelda briefly thinks how hilarious it would be if it missed, maybe plummeted back to the ground, or if the fire just went out.

But it doesn't.

Just as planned, the arrow shoots through the middle of the big triforce, which, upon contact, bursts into flames, exploding with blue for a second but then settling for a calm, orange fire.

Suddenly the crowd begins to clap, and Midna turns to Zelda with a smile. "The flaming arrow piercing the triforce promises a prosperous year to come. It means life."

"What about the people with the burning branches?" Zelda asks. A little girl winds through the legs of the soldiers guarding the masses and comes running towards the queen and the princess. One of the soldiers pursues her until Midna gives him a sign and reaches out to the little girl.

"Oh, cities of marble and stone don't burn. You must've seen how little wood we use; only for what can be expended. If something happens to catch fire, the river is an endless source of water, and when the days are so hot, the nights often bring heavy rainfall." Midna strokes the little girls' hair, then sends it back off to the crowd. "That man between your entourage, who is he?" Midna nods towards the people standing at the temple's entrance, and Zelda doesn't have to look there to know whom she means.

"The scum I got in exchange for Link."

"Well that is some handsome scum if I've ever seen some. He sticks out of the crowd."

"Yes, like weed amidst daisies." Zelda glimpses over at the Lord of Toha, whom she hasn't spoken to since the trial of patience in the woods. While yesterday morning she'd noticed with satisfaction that the Lord looked terribly uncomfortable sweating through his cotton shirts, today this is not the case. He looks more at ease in his trousers and a light tunic (disrespecting Twilight Lands tradition) than Zelda in the light piece of cloth that reveals her belly button. She turns away from the Lord and her abominable ladies-in-waiting next to him, just in time to see the soldiers having parted the crowd to force a narrow path down to the chariots. The people seem to be even less than cooperative now than before.

The familiar feeling of nausea spreads though Zelda's insides as she takes in the sight of the path between the countless people— all it really does is make her feel sick, but she can't stop staring. Suddenly Midna links their arms. "Come. They won't dare do something stupid, all they want is to touch us when we pass. I'll go first, you follow me."

And so Midna steps forward to make her way down, holding her hands out like a messiah so the common herd can establish physical contact.

And Zelda wonders why the fuck it was necessary to have her travel through the kingdom for weeks just for a ceremony that took barely twenty minutes.


Greasy little pies filled with vegetables are being served as appetizer for the feast. Zelda can't claim to truly like them, forcefully nibbling on one while Midna at her side eagerly indulges herself in the fifth pie already. Once the meat is served though, Zelda almost attacks the bloody steak served with fried potatoes and over a dozen sauces to choose from, of which the pepper sauce stands especially high in her favour.

Even the castle in Sombra is bigger than the entire royal complex in Castle Town, which is one of the biggest known to mankind. The ancient Shadow Palace of Sombra can host five hundred men in the small ballroom alone, which is where the feast is currently taking place. Not more than three hundred nobles from all around Hyrule have traveled to the southeast in order to celebrate the jubilee with their queen, half of them from the Twilight Lands alone.

Duchesses and their daughters, lesser counts and completely insignificant landowners that don't deserve to be counted to the nobility, all of them sit at the tables put up in the gigantic hall and feast on the roasted boars. The wildlife stock in the Lost Woods must've significantly decreased for this occasion.

What irritates Zelda is that she can't just put as much food on her plate as she wishes; instead she has to call for one of the servants who awkwardly linger in her proximity and seem to be just waiting for her command— then they quickly sneak closer, big trays with food in their hands, and bend over her in order to place more meat on her plate. It's too late now, but Zelda inwardly shakes her head at having ordered that every single potential murder weapon (knives, forks, anything sharp) be replaced with something dull, but forgetting to do anything about this ridiculous servant problem. But then again, she didn't know.

"Zelda."

She jerks as someone touches her arm. "Yes?"

Midna seems to be done eating and leans over. "We haven't had a chance to really talk yet; I'm sorry that I've been away the past two days— ceremony tradition, you understand."

Zelda nods and lifts the big chalice filled with wine to her lips. She's stopped eating ten minutes ago, when she couldn't stand calling another slow servant to fill her plate. But the blue Shadow Wine is good, and it will fill her belly until dessert will be served.

"I hope the chamber you've been given is to your liking. The wind from the riverside provides some freshness during the day, and the view is stunning." Midna's red eyes shine with warmth, and she briefly squeezes Zelda's arm, the teal tattoos on her arm glowing in the light of the candles. "You look different. Thinner. I know three years are a long time, but they've passed in the blink of an eye. The wine won't satiate you."

"But the water will?" With a small smirk, Zelda gestures to the cup in front of Midna, knowing exactly what's inside. "Tell me, when have you turned your back on beer? Three years past it was all you were drinking, from dusk to dawn."

Midna throws her head back in laughter. "You may look different, but you haven't changed one bit!" She takes the cup and clinks it against Zelda's wine-filled chalice. "But since you're asking, the last beer I had was just days after returning to Sombra. You've seen how they walk around here." Midna sighs and raises an eyebrow in annoyance. "You'd think they're short on cloth. Actually it's just too hot to constantly be wearing what we are used to in the north, and… Ultimately I just want to look good. And if that makes me shallow, sue me."

Truly, Midna's 'dress' is even more revealing than what she was wearing during the ceremony, which is saying something.

"You know I would be the one presiding over your trial, right?"

Full of delight, Midna bursts out in bright laughter again, and Zelda smiles into her cup. If she had to name a friend, Midna would probably be the person coming closest to that definition. After more than ten years spent in Castle Town, the Twili knows Zelda almost as good as Link does, but the invisible barrier between a queen and her vassal is hard to assume away. There are thoughts even Midna in her blunt nature dares not voice.

"Oh, I know better than to risk a trial with you as judge, my friend," Midna sighs and pours herself some wine with a smile. "You are a quick eater. Look, everyone's finished. The anniversary is not over, and dessert will be served outside. Let us lead the way." Without waiting, she stands up and claps her hands together. Everyone in the room looks up. "My dear guests! It is time for the cake, and professional entertainment is long overdue! I invite you to follow us to the Gray Gardens, where we'll continue our celebration!"

Even though Zelda is convinced that her friend's words reached only the first few rows of people, all of them jump up cheering and begin rushing towards the gardens, clearly not caring a bit about Midna's invitation to 'follow'.

"Such a beautiful night. The sages were right, no rain tonight," the Twili sighs as they step down from their dais.

It is. The clouds that obscured the sun earlier today are entirely gone, nowhere to be seen, and the night is pleasantly alike to one in Castle Town, clear and bright. Since Sombra is very dimly lit, thousands and thousands of stars are visible, white freckles in the black skies.

On a green plain lined with bushes of all kinds of roses and other flowers, a gigantic round cake is waiting. Over a dozen servants stand next to the culinary masterpiece and are already eagerly cutting it with their dull knives, distributing creamy slices with blueberries amongst the mob of greedy guests.

Zelda holds on to her chalice with wine, wondering whether she'll get a slice as well, even though the cake looks big enough to feed an entire army. If Lord Argon were here, he'd go off on a passionate rant about profligacy and willful waste of public funds.

"I'll get us some cake, alright?" Midna declares and disappears within the crowd without waiting for her queen's approval. Zelda simply nods and takes a few steps back from the people, thankful that Midna knows her so well. Yet she wonders why they couldn't just get a servant to bring them some cake, given that back in the palace she was not even allowed to fill her plate on her own.

These Twilis are crazy.

Suddenly the sky begins to explode in every colour of the rainbow, and the fireworks are so loud that Zelda jerks. Her long dress suddenly tangles itself between her legs, its hem slipping between the space between her toes and the sandals, and with a shriek she bumps into a very fat Twili woman, almost disappearing between two layers of fat that inappropriately hang out of the woman's disgustingly revealing dress.

The Black Hand tasked with watching out for his queen steps out of the shadows, but he knows better than to touch Zelda. The fools around her gape at the spectacle in the skies like lunatics, and the fat lady doesn't even care that someone's landed between the rolls of fat on her back.

Thankfully the delicious wine didn't spill out, Zelda registers and disgustedly wants to push herself away from Lady Fatface's long-lost twin, as an old bugger who seems to be tougher than he looks locks his bony hand around Zelda's arm and pulls her back to her feet.

"Gotta show the queen some respect," he rasps, clearly drunk. His thin fingers drill themselves into Zelda's flesh, and the hand that looks out from under his silken sleeve is nothing but bone covered with saggy blue skin. He looks and smells like death, and his smile is ugly and his teeth golden, and his grip on the queen is so strong that she can't simply pull her arm away. "Don't want her to remember bad things about the Twilight Lands."

It feels as if someone is sticking scorching rods into her arm. Zelda's mouth goes dry, and she feels how every single muscle in her body tenses. She hears her utterly incompetent bodyguard approach, but before he can do anything about the situation, Zelda gives herself a kick and grips the old man's hand with her free one to pry her arm away. The delicious wine spills out of the chalice in the process, but Zelda doesn't care, and then her arm is free and she shoves the old man away as hard she can. He stumbles backwards, laughing in his delirious state. Only out of the corner of her eyes does Zelda register that he bumps into someone.

As the Black Hand rushes over to get the old man out of her sight, Zelda stares down at her hand in sheer terror. Her entire arm is burning red, even the five small depressions on her skin left by sinewy fingers.

And then they're green, and a moment after that yellow, and Zelda understands that it's merely the light of the fireworks that's coloured her skin.

She stares at the blue drops of wine that are slowly running down on the golden chalice in her hand. This was the rest of the wine of the bottle the King of Hyrule and the Twilight Princess personally stored away twenty years ago, but in that moment, Zelda doesn't give a fuck about the wine. She couldn't have emptied the cup anymore either way because she's fighting to keep the vegetable cake and the steak from leaving her stomach the wrong way.

The Black Hand brutally shoves the old man past the queen, but no one even notices the elderly's strident protesting as he's being led away.

Something burning itself into Zelda's face gets her to look up; but it's not something physical. It's Lord Ike a few steps away, and he stares at her as if she just took away his cake. And in fact, he has a golden plate in his hand, but it's empty. The slice of cake that should go with it is laying at the Lord's feet, with the creamy part miserably pressed into the grass and the squished blueberries spread on the ground.

"You shoved that fool into me." His voice is just dripping with accusation.

"I didn't see you," Zelda spits, rubbing her arm. Her muscles are coming back to life, stinging. "Just get a new slice of cake."

"There is no more cake!"

Goddesses, the cake was two-tiered. No wonder the Twilight Lands are said to be Hyrule's fattest region.

Red fireworks light the night again, dipping the world into a bloody hue and making the rubies on Zelda's hand harness burn with colour.

This time, Lord Ike loses the stare down— deliberately. With a blank expression, he looks down at Zelda's feet, and then his eyes slowly follow the slit on her leg up to her hips and breasts until stopping on her throat, where they linger longer than they should.

Zelda can't help but tense again. The play of the lights on the Lord's face gives him the look of a grotesque mask, downright distorting his features. Zelda remembers the moment she saw that look in his eyes before, when she was low on oxygen and beyond hope, and he had his hands somewhere they shouldn't have ever been, and it feels like the fabric around her throat starts tightening for some reason under his gaze.

An eardrum shattering bang prompts Zelda to take a sharp breath. Lord Ike suddenly looks back at her face. "The dress suits Your Highness formidably. Such an exquisite colour. Dyed with the blood of a virgin?"

It's 'Your Majesty', you mutt.

"Blood of my foes, actually," she speaks down to him with a condescending smile, suddenly feeling surprisingly light-headed. The wine must have kicked in.

He blows some air out of his nose in response to her quick tongue, but his face looks anything but impressed.

In each village they drove through on their journey, Fendyr sought out the local tailor to find the perfect material for his creation (that man is nothing short of a maniac when it comes to his craft). After sixteen villages and three days before their arrival in Sombra, Fendyr had finally presented Zelda with a magnificent garb made of several layers of sheer silk; she'd immediately fallen in love with the dress. Once she had put it on her body, the colour had changed from normal burgundy to the darkest red she has ever seen.

A sudden gusting wind hits the Gray Gardens. Shrill shrieks ring through the crowd as the dresses of countless ladies are messed up, and nature does not care about statuses: Zelda's gown is not spared. Thanks to the slit, its skirt flows up into the air, inappropriately exposing her entire upper thigh.

What's unsettling is that the Lord's eyes don't wander down to her white flesh the way any regular man's would, but stay fixed on her covered throat. "Well, I can only assume it's gotten challenging to find virgins in your realm for a few months now," he finally speaks. "It's truly a privilege to be contributing to the amelioration of the Hylian gene pool."

"The Hylian gene pool is at the peak of its capabilities and needs not be tarnished by plebeian blood."

Lord Ike raises his cup. "I agree about the plebeians. But you're undermining my efforts, Your Highness. I've been doing my best to help you out with this widespread disease." He vaguely gestures at the side of his head as the queen's frown grows. "I'm talking about the devil ears."

Zelda clenches her chalice, flaring her nostrils. "Of no earthly use, milord. I can assure you that the ears," and she mimics his hand gesture in a deriding manner, "will prevail until the cows come home."

It is in that moment that the fat lady from before strolls past Zelda and the Lord, apparently in pursuit of a willowy servant with a pie in his arms, who hurries away from her with a terrified look on his face. There is no need for words as Lord Ike turns back to Zelda after both of them have observed the servant and the living ball of fat disappear in the crowd.

"The cows seem to be home already," he says anyway and puts his cup to his mouth.

"As if your filthy round-"

"Here's your cake," Midna suddenly announces, having returned from her mission. She shoves a plate with a blue and white slice of cake into Zelda's free hand and smiles up at the wretch. "Oh. Milord. We haven't been formally introduced yet. Whatever happened to your cake?"

"The Queen. If you would excuse me— nature calls." He takes a halfhearted bow in Midna's direction and goes off.

And Zelda can't help but burst out in laughter at that while Midna simply stares wildly after the man. "Did you just hear that as well?" Zelda asks and plucks a cup out of her friend's fingers, finding with satisfaction that it is filled with rich wine that warms her on the inside as she greedily gulps it down. "I hope he finds his way back into the palace, I don't want any of your guests suffering trauma after they find him watering the flowers."

"Do you think his hair is blue?"

It takes Zelda a few seconds to down the wine. Her head is roaring thanks to the wine and the loud cheering directed at the fire breather in the middle of the Gray Gardens, who's just begun his performance. But it's mostly the wine that's to blame, and she has to blink a few times. She huffs. "What? Midna, are you colourblind or did you not just see that freak of nature?"

"No, I mean all of his hair."

"Well what the fuck do you think he is down there, blond? Goddesses." The queen gives her friend such a disgusted look that Midna presses her lips together and looks away in shame. "Your husband's corpse is basically still warm, Midna. Do you even hear yourself?"

"You fucking know what, Zel? You really haven't changed one bit." The warmth in Midna's eyes is gone, suddenly they are full of revulsion, her voice hard and cold. "We can talk again when you've finally gotten the taste of a man. Making an heir takes some practice, you know," she spits and just walks away.

Zelda's jaw drops. "Midna?"

But Midna doesn't want to hear.

"Midna, wait-" Zelda says and can't do anything but helplessly watch her friend mix with the other guests as the fireworks light up the sky and the fire from the show burns the night away.