Those that have been waiting patiently are going to hate me... um... I wrote this part a while back and totally forgot that I had made it. It kind of got lost with all the rest of 'em ^^;

Anyways, I need to re-read some of my stuff to make sure I don't go on bunny trails again (I tend to do that a lot). R&R, + or - please?

Section Seventeen— The Forest's Dead Child

It had been a ritual, to sacrifice the young to the Goddesses when times grew bitter. There's a famine, a plague, strange deaths, strange weather, the priests are growing ill, the Royal Family is ill… sacrifice a pure soul. The act was practiced selfishly to the point where families no longer cried when their children were selected. In fact, the families cheered. One child to save many… a wonder.

The rituals increased to the point of making the villages and towns run with blood. The stench of the sacrifices, of the wastes and shells left behind was unnerving. It made the populous feel something like guilt. Of course they only looked the other way, refusing to believe that their sacrifices were created for a useless cause. The Sisters of Three listened to no one, be it pleas or not. Still, the people were growing appalled of the smell and the sight of the decaying flesh of the dead children and after collaborating with the sanctuaries, with the priests, with the Royal Advisors, and the rest that the people deemed to have actual power and ability to speak freely to the Goddesses, they set to dumping the bodies of the unfortunate souls in the forest.

In reply, the forest darkened. It seemed to have held a mind of its own and after having felt the remnants of a child drowning in its soil, left to be forgotten for all time, the forest wept. How does a forest weep? Everything that dwells within it dies. For to it, the humanity that supposedly watched over it was only abusing it, making it deal with such dirtied souls that would never fulfill their life. The children never had a chance…

The famines, the plagues, it all grew much worse. The sacrificing increased. The dead children piled up and the forest continued to weep.

Yet there was one sane soul left, a mother. She'd been stricken with an ill womb, having miscarried three children. The fourth was thought to never even come, but the Goddesses seemingly graced her with life. Her first successful child, a little girl, was brought into the cold, unforgiving world.

She didn't last long.

The people grew fearful. They could not fathom the idea that the sacrificing could possibly be doing nothing. Preposterous. In evident denial, they took the blessed mother's one and only child and burned it alive. All the while they held the mother back as she screamed, wept, fought as her one and only child was sacrificed for absolutely nothing.

The forest heard this, the wail of a mother, and even saw it firsthand when the mother herself dropped the child off within the dark, forestry depths. The woman even went as far as to kiss the forehead of that burnt flesh, to hug it one last time.

It was touched. For everything it had seen, this woman was different. At the very thought, its weeping stopped. This woman had been wronged… she had lost her heart. Though the forest had trouble understanding, it somehow knew all the same. She had not spent enough days with the child but still she cried out as if she had known it for years upon years, the little, burned girl.

On that day, when the forest stopped weeping due to humanity's judgment, twisted desires, and selfishness, the green came back. Life returned to the forests, to the earth beneath the populous. Not only that, but having felt touched by the mother's despair… it brought life back but not in sense that one would think for it too was selfish. All the souls that it had harbored from the decayed bodies of children returned as perpetual offspring of the earth. Yet, it failed to tell the mother of her reborn child as did it fail to tell many for it kept the children close to its core, never letting them out of its sight for fear of them being sacrificed again. It feared solitude now as well as the stench of death and blood, but most of all having to relive the scenes over and over again… In truth it wanted the feeling, the clear understanding of a mother's love.

Even after the sacrifices ceased, the forest never let go.

Part 10~ Heads Roll

The dazed child stared, silent as ever, as he took a nonchalant step toward the princess of Hyrule. Though the blank stare seemed innocent enough, the way his fingers curled about the hilt of the blade, the way his eyes looked on, and the way he moved forward all spoke of something evil. The princess herself could see it, had seen it. This child… this child was no longer a child. No, something had changed, right as he had been given the sword.
Possession at its finest. It was the only excuse for the sudden change that she could conjure up at a time like this. Not only that but this 'Link,' if he were her Link would not commit to such dark actions such as murder on an innocent.

"Link, don't do this." It was a weak attempt, one she had actually wanted to speak within the safety of her thoughts, but her tongue was against her. The back of her legs hit the throne at her back, fingers tangling in her skirts as the majority of her attention focused on the child, forgetting the presence of the older, darker male. Her weak voice only made the child pause in his step, but he continued it after she ended her attempt.
Such a response… she shook her head again, tears threatening to wreak havoc on her already troubling emotions. If this really was Link, he was far from gone. A part of her selfish conscience desired to blame herself. That day… Link had left only to never return. That day Hryule lost an idol and she lost her best friend. Then this boy, resembling her companion… it was so sad.

"What do you hope to gain by having me murdered by this child?" Finally she looked to the male, glaring at him, and stifling a sigh of relief when the child actually did in fact stop (this time). "Would it not have been easier to just kill Link entirely instead of doing whatever it is that you did?"
The fellow only laughed at her words. She was so dense! Not only that but she was stalling. The whole idea of her little spark of hope that she might reach a broken, little toy was hilarious. Futile. "Wouldn't it be interesting to see if one could actually twist a child originally from light to that of darkness? The very child that holds the favor of every land, every dimension, every being, and the Goddesses… his corruption, switching to my master's side will break- has broken- the balance that he was sworn to protect. Now, there is no one left to stop us and we gain even more strength with the child now obeying the words of my master. It's beautiful, really. As for your death, simple. You're another obstacle in my master's way and it would be rather humorous to see you die by the child that swore to protect you, wouldn't it?" He tilted his head, a sick grin twisting itself on his porcelain lips.
Zelda's stomach churned, but she refrained from closing her eyes despite the ever growing fear. Instead she allowed her eyes to focus on the child's blade, willing it to cease its approach.

"Link." She tested the name again, her tone shaking all the more.

She would've uttered his name once more in desperation, perhaps louder, if the shadows that lingered at the room's outskirts had not shifted. If the atmosphere had not grown colder, the child's shadow flashing for a moment, then she would have said the child's name once more and then perhaps given up any hope of living past a minute.

Link froze, his next step lingering in the air as a bare hand wrapped around his blade somewhere behind him. Yet his expression seemingly refused to change as his eyes continued to stare at Zelda in that blank manner.

The dark man spoke for the child, laughing manically, "Oh yes, I cannot believe I forgot! The princess's body guard, an accursed Sheik!" At the very insult, the room grew darker.

"Keep your filthy remarks to yourself." Replied a series of whispers. The voice itself was unnatural and yet soothing all the same. It didn't even make sense when the princess had spoken it aloud once to her bodyguard, questioning the reason of his tone.

As the voice spoke, making the shadows literally thicken, a man clothed in robes stepped out from behind the throne of the princess. His robs gave a moment of iridescence, revealing white bandaged material that wrapped around the speaker's face—obscuring every facial features except that of crimson eyes and the thin strands of blond. "I am sorry for the wait, my princess." He bowed his head, but his body still towered over the young Zelda.

She barely gave him only a nod as her eyes continued to stay on the possessed child. Even when he moved to her side, she gave him no clear acknowledgement. Zelda was far too caught up in that blank stare. Death. Her Link was not this Link. By the looks of it… he was long gone. "Princess, do you wish for me to eradicate the swine?" Finally she moved her gaze, unwillingly at first, for her thoughts were coming undone.

Her Link…

Dead.

This child was nothing. The revelation was horrifying each time the truth ran amok in her head.

But without a hero, Hyrule will die.

The thought came rather abruptly as if it had been forced upon her by another. It carried weight and a taste of something foreign. Something off, like the thought was not entirely hers to begin with… like…

Without a Link the world that the Sisters create and defend will become nothing.

It was from another.

Without a Link, the balance of this world has shifted. The air is too dangerous. The Triforce will become unstable, this world will shatter into pieces by its own people, and the exiled one will be fully revived from the chaos that will ensue.

So much death… the fields will be bathed in crimson.

The children will die first.

The Castle will burn first.

The people will rebel and shred each other into pieces, self-absorbed in their own panic of the unknown, of the turmoil that will wreak havoc.

For, without balance then the Triforce and this world will become darkness. Complete darkness where nothing lives or dies.

End.

Urgency. The thoughts were coated with so much fear and speed to the point where it felt like they had never been placed in her head to being with for the came and went like the wind. However she knew they were there, dwelling in her mind like a heavy trip of guilt. It was like a disease. The weight of it all, heat, the pounding in her head… Images, voices, smells, touch; it was all becoming too much. She fell, skirts flying about her as she was caught just in time before she herself collapsed to the floor.

"Prin—"

The dark man laughed aloud, swatting at the air as he watched in a portrayal of humor. It made Zelda wince as she attempted to remove herself from the aid of her guard. Not only that, but the laugh itself was rather eerie. It was as if he knew what she had witnessed, seen. It was if he held some sort of wisdom just like she did. With that one worry clinging to her she ripped her arm away from her guard and stepped firmly down a stair to glare at the rotten man. His laughter only continued.

"Princess, give me an order." She looked away, attention reluctant to move despite the demand that her guard gave. Not only that, but she was in no mood to look at red eyes. Especially not at red eyes when the laughter in front of her echoed madly within the throne room, making her eardrums throb.

With a breath, she shook her head, "His aura is too dark and the child, he cannot be harmed." At the mention of the child, she looked down to him. The child had not moved. Perhaps he had not even breathed.

"Then allow me to teleport us out of here to a safer place."

The child flinched at the word safer. Then again as she looked further, he still remained unresponsive. Perhaps it was a trick of the eye. He still seemed "dead."

"Only if you bring the child along."

Her guard growled at that, eyes finally directing to the two at the bottom of the stairs. "My lady, reconsider. The child is possessed, we will be running from this abomination's current master once we do such a thing." His voice fell to a complete whisper. She almost didn't hear it.

"An order is an order, Sheik."

You… will… He will what?

You… You are our… He is their what?

He shifted, shivering against the cold darkness that had long ago pulled him to blindness. Then again maybe that's all he ever could see to being with—darkness. He couldn't remember. At that very fact he drew a hand up to his face. What did he even look like? He tapped at his right cheek questioningly as if feeling up his face would give his mind's eye an image of his appearance. Where did he hail from? Did he always live here in the silent darkness? Was he always this cold?

What was his name?

Link.

Only that one, single question was given an answer, and oddly enough that one little answer settled his nerves. Of course, even he himself knew that that response wasn't normal. For one to know nothing about themselves, the only know their name? Lost. He was truly and utterly lost and the sad part was the he knew that.

He'd known that from the very beginning…

Of course… what was the beginning anyhow?

Beginning of what exactly?

You will… He shifted again, hand dropping back to his lap. He had trouble thinking lately. The thoughts came and went to the point where he couldn't catch one in time to mull over it. None of them stayed longer than a second, than a blink of an eye; however, his name and the two unfinished statements. His name was understandable for it was his. Yet, the phrases… where had he heard them? Who had said them and why did they not finish?

You will.

It was growing colder and it took all he had to not fall into a fit of whimpers and trembles. That was something too, the cold. It only grew heavy when he tried so desperately to answer the unanswered. It especially grew to the point of unbearable when he mulled over the unfinished statements.

Section Eighteen— Beauty is a Curse

There once was a beautiful woman who was loved above all. Villagers claimed she was even more beautiful than the Goddesses of Three. If it was not for that title, that compliment, then the Sisters would have not acted upon it in a childish fashion. They heard it for nine months straight, growing infuriated by each uttering of the very phrase. For a mortal to be more beautiful than the gods? Disgusting.

Filled with rage and jealousy the Sisters placed a curse on the beautiful woman that would bring out her ugliness. A curse that only set itself overnight, making the woman wake up to a monstrosity that was her very form.

Her skin was peeled, turning black and murky, her eyes had grown watery and large, her sides were bubbling, and her skin was growing delicate black hairs that were so fine that they poked her surroundings. Her arms had grown skeletal, limbs having split to make a spider-like setting, and her perfect, petite chin was now narrowed and long. Grotesque. Not only that but her lips bubbled with blood as if someone had pulled off the plush, sensitive material.

Her scream was even that of a monster, sounding like a whaling ghost. It attracted the village's attention and when they rushed to the once beautiful woman's home and checked on the beautiful woman they became frightened.

"Look, the monster has eaten our beautiful flower!" A villager had screamed, pointing a crude finger to the titled monster. With that one statement the entirety of the village screamed along, grabbing pitchforks, spades, and any other useful tool to be used as a weapon. All the while the once beautiful woman screamed, cried, and cowered as she tried to free herself from the panicking horde that came upon her. She would have spoken out to them, but each time she tried a scream took the place of her words.

On that day as the woman jumped out of her bedroom window, stumbling frantically out of her very own village for safety from death itself, a name that matched her disgusting figure was graced upon her.

Gothelmut, cursed beauty… or as the children sing, Gothma.