A thousand apologies for the long delay of updates. This semester was hellish, but finals are over and at last I have time to begin bringing this story to a close. Thank you to everyone who has favorited and alerted my stories. Reviews and feedback are what keep me motivated to continue!

Chapter 12

Areanna Alone

Though the night had obscured the monolithic temple several dunes ago and the movements of the moon and constellations meant nothing to her, Areanna was doing her best to hold onto the strange sense of purpose she'd felt after Sareth's departure. It seemed she had been moving for endless hours, alternating walking and warping from dune to dune when she could get a clear view. Any twitch of her face made her nose throb; she assumed it must be broken. Most pressing was her parched throat. If she did not come across water before the sun rose – and she had no idea how long a process that would be, or when it might begin – she could face the terrible death Sareth had described.

She craned her neck to see as far as she could. The top of the next dune was in clear view, but beyond that there was… nothing? Clouds had covered the moon and Areanna squinted through the darkness; there seemed to be a great expanse of shadows more the color of the sky than the sand. Water! A lake! Oh, the Spirits haven't forsaken me! Her strength renewed by hope, she warped across the trough between dunes and forced her weary legs to run down the other side, laughing aloud as she imagined diving into sweet, cold water. But as the slope steepened and the sand turned to shale, she realized what was truly before her: not a lake, but a sheer cliff that fell down, down, down away from the plateau of the desert. A great bridge rose heavily from the ground below, lights flickering in the windows of its guard towers. It was at once relieving and disturbing to see signs of life here – signs of Light-dwellers. She knew nothing of them except what could be heard in stories and rumors. Link was noble and chivalrous, but that did not mean all his people were. She had no way of knowing if she was even in the same kingdom as the one from which he hailed.

Flying sand peppered her in a sudden gust as she looked for a way down. There was a lake glimmering like glass in the moonlight below, reminding her of her thirst. The valley was too shrouded in shadow and mist to make it safe for warping. Yet the distance seemed no greater than the drop from the city to the surface of the realm of Twilight. Soldiers make that journey, yes? I have magic just as they do. But she had never done it herself, and in fact had never even warped very long distances. There had always been others to do it for her. Just let go and glide down! You cannot fall. Leaving the precipice was proving impossible. Each time she resolved to take the leap her muscles locked up and left her swaying on the ledge. The very idea of a Twili afraid of heights was ridiculous, and she could imagine Sareth's derisive laughter in her head. That thought brought a snarl to her lips. I. Am. Not. Weak! Bringing her magic to bear, she lifted off and floated into space.

Leaning against the wind, she let herself glide away from the cliff face and start to descend. Her hair billowed around her shoulders and her stomach flipped, but her magic buoyed her up and she felt her confidence returning. How effortless it was, even at such altitude! No more difficult than gliding down flights of palace steps. The details of the ground began to refine, and as she dropped lower and looked ahead she got a better sense of just how massive the bridge was. She thought she might actually be disappointed when she reached the bottom; the air was getting colder and the water was approaching quickly. Too quickly. A downdraft buffeted her, and she struggled to recover. Her strength was fading.

Magic, like muscles, must be exercised in order to grow in strength. The forgotten lesson mocked her as her flight became a fall. With no power left to warp, the water was her only chance, and she flailed her limbs in a last attempt to reach greater depth before plunging through the glassy surface.

Darkness and frigid cold. Air pushed from lungs. Hair swirling desperately. She kicked and pulled in the direction that felt like up. Skirt wrapping around her legs. Kick harder! No air… She broke the surface with a great gasp and fought to stay afloat as her sodden clothes dragged her down. With much splashing and sputtering, she managed to fight her way shoreward until silt squeezed between her toes. Wading through the shallows and onto the grassy bank seemed to take massive effort and when she finally gained the shore she collapsed to her knees. Where there had been pain before, now there was only numbness. All she could feel was the chill pushing into her bones. Uncontrollable shivers raced through her body with every breath of night breeze. Even her thirst was gone; she gagged at the thought of any more water going down her throat.

For a long time she remained where she was, too cold to move. The sunrise seemed like a welcome prospect now, for it would banish the cold. I need shelter, or I'll freeze. Get up. Get up! Slowly, she climbed to her feet and forced herself to take a step. Then another. The bridge. There are people in the bridge. At least walking kept the worst of the chills at bay, though she was still in misery. She wondered how Midna had endured this hell for months. Perhaps it was warmer then. The seasons change here, yes? Only she couldn't remember their names, or what weather they brought.

Fear gnawed at her as she passed through grass and trees, between crumbling stones that may have been houses centuries ago. The bridge loomed higher and higher in the sky and she forced herself to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Naturally she blended into the shadows, but felt no safety. This darkness was empty and unfriendly. It made her feel even more alone as she thought of facing the Light-dwellers at the bridge. What would they be like? Would they come to her aid, or lock their doors in hatred? Sliding between two last boulders, she stopped short, faced with the leg of the bridge's central tower. It drew her eyes slowly skyward. What sort of people were these who dwelt in such cold stones?

A metallic creak made her jump and she swept beneath a gnarled willow, pressing herself against the trunk and melting into the gloom. Through the curtain of branches she watched a door in the tower open and spill a pool of light over the ground. A soldier in light armor stepped outside, a pike held loosely under his arm. Areanna watched him with fear and fascination. He seemed more bored than menacing, though by his build she imagined he could be deadly with that pike, or the sword sheathed across his back.

Another shiver ran through her and made her shift; the snap of a twig beneath her foot was all it took too bring the soldier's full attention on her hiding place. She didn't even have time to hide the glow of her eyes before his pike was leveled straight at her. "Who goes there? Identify yourself!"

She remained frozen in the hope that he was bluffing.

"I can see you there. You're trespassing. Come out, or I'm coming in after you."

She swallowed to clear her voice and said, "There is no need for that." It came out more forcefully than she'd intended, but she supposed that worked to her advantage. To the soldier, she appeared as only two luminous eyes detaching from the trunk and stepping though the swaying branches. Only when she stood almost directly before him did her body take shape distinguishable from the shadows. She folded her arms against the cold and sniffed. "Do you always threaten ladies in this manner?"

Slack jawed, he let the tip of the pike slowly fall to the ground. "You're… you're one of them. Aren't you?"

His wonderment emboldened her. "It depends on who you mean by them."

"The shadow-people. Word came down from Princess Zelda, but I thought they were only rumors…"

Zelda! "I am not a rumor. And I must see the princess you speak of. Can you take me to her?"

"I… It's a day's journey to Castle Town. You don't look like a messenger. What are you doing here?"

She considered how much she wanted to disclose. "I am not a royal messenger, but still I bring word from Princess Midna. It is my first time in your realm, and I am lost. And cold." It was getting harder to keep her teeth from chattering enough to speak.

His eyes swept over her. "Well. You aren't really dressed for an autumn night."

She scowled. "I did not have time to prepare for the journey." Not that she would have known what to prepare for. "Are you going to help me or shall I be on my way?"

"On your way? You said you are lost."

Having her error pointed out only made her angrier. "Yes! So are you going to help me?" She decided to drop a name. "Evidently, other Light-dwellers do not share the chivalry of the noble hero Link."

"Link? Of Ordon?" His surprise was satisfying to her. "You know him?"

"My message is for him as well," she pressed.

This seemed to spur him to action. "Come with me. You'll need to speak to the officer of the watch." He led her to the door in the tower and held it open. "You're soaked! What happened to you?"

"An accident." She pursed her lips and said no more as she followed him through the surprisingly well-lit – and blessedly warm – stone corridors, up endless stairs to a thick wooden door, solitary in its hallway. The soldier knocked and a voice from within called, "Enter!"

He opened the door and ushered her though. An older and much stockier man sat behind a heavy, rough hewn desk. His eyes widened when he saw Areanna.

"Sergeant. This shadow girl approached me outside. She says she has a message for Sir Link and the princess."

"We are called Twili," Areanna snapped. "And my name is Areanna."

The older man got to his feet slowly. "Areanna," he breathed. "Remarkable." She was about to demand to know what was so remarkable, but he cut her off. "What is the nature of your message?"

"It is for the princess and the Hero only." Though her original plan had been to make Sareth's uprising as public as possible, uncertainty had altered her tactics. She was not about to give up the only information that made her valuable to these condescending men. "I need only directions to the palace."

"You plan to make the journey alone? Dear girl, that would be most unwise. The woods and fields are full of dangers, especially at nighttime."

"I am well accustomed to darkness, thank you."

"From the look of you, you've already run into a few troubles."

"I beg your pardon!"

He laughed, a deep, hearty chuckle. "There happens to be a supply train leaving here tomorrow morning at dawn, bound for Castle Town. They can provide an escort for you. You seem like you could use some rest in the meantime."

"I would much rather be on my way now." She jerked away as the sergeant tried to pat her shoulder.

"I won't have your disappearance on my hands, Areanna. You'll wait until morning. Corporal? Show her to the washrooms, and bring her something dry to wear. She looks wet enough to have gone for a swim in the lake."

"Aye, sir. Follow me," said the soldier to a fuming Areanna. He led her back through the corridors of the garrison; each twist of the stairwell offered a view outside through a small window cut in the wall, and the dark shapes of the trees rose up with each level they descended. Each pass by one of these openings chilled her with a breath of night air. She remained stiff and silent the entire time, despite her escort's attempts at conversation. Finally they arrived at a long, narrow room. Along the length of one wall ran a row of raised stone basins full of the clearest water.

"Go ahead and wash up. I'll be back in a few minutes with some different clothes for you."

"Are you going to give me a suit of armor?" she sneered.

"I doubt you could stand up," he chuckled. "No. I think we can find something more suitable. Just don't get impatient and wander off." He turned and disappeared around the corner.

Areanna pulled a face after him and stalked into the washroom, slamming the door behind her. As first encounters went, hers with the Light-dwellers had not been smooth, but at least she'd negotiated some hospitality instead of finding herself thrown in a dungeon. She sighed heavily. The smell of the lake still clung to her, turning her stomach; fish and rotting leaves and mud. She pulled her tunic over her head, taking care not to bump her face. She slid her skirt off her hips and let it fall in filthy folds around her ankles. Looking around, she found towels and cloths folded in a crude basket, and chose a few with particular consideration.

It was all to delay the inevitable moment when she would have to confront her reflection in the mirrors above the basins. Slowly she walked to one of the glittering pools of water and raised reluctant eyes to the mirror. The face that looked back at her was unrecognizable. Knotted hair hung practically in dreadlocks around her shoulders; a dark bruise blossomed out from a bump and bend in her nose. Her cheeks were puffy; dry, sleep-deprived eyes shone like forlorn lanterns from the recesses of her face. Scars were forming around her neck and wrists, so glaringly obvious to her in contrast to the rest of her flawless body. She moaned and directed her gaze down into the water. How could she ever show herself in the palace again? She would be mocked endlessly until she was driven out of employment as a royal attendant, sent back to her mother in shame. She would spend the rest of her useful years washing dishes and mopping floors, servicing seedy patrons in a dingy tavern. And that was all assuming Sareth could be made to pay for what he had done. If not, then…

The door creaked open behind her. "Areanna? Oh!"

"Out! Get out!" she shrieked, grabbing a chunk of soap and flinging it at the doorway.

"I'm sorry! I have a robe for you!" the soldier cried, one hand covering his face. He was laughing.

"Leave it and get out!"

He tossed them into the room and ducked back out into the hallway before she could throw any more projectiles in his direction, and the door banged shut.

Areanna slapped her towel to the floor and yelled, "Barbarian!" Knowing he had gotten even a glimpse of her nakedness set her on edge, and it was a few minutes before she calmed enough to resume her bathing ritual. She took a deep breath, and plunged her head under the water to scrub her hair. It was icy cold like the lake, but clean and odorless. When she surfaced again, she felt as though she had shed several pounds of grime. By no means its silky self, her hair was free of grit and lake smell, and could at least move on its own again. She washed herself meticulously, missing not an inch of skin except for her nose, which was still in too much pain to endure touching. Despite the chills that raced over her skin with each pass of the cloth, the dark thoughts that had plagued her began to dissipate as she felt more and more renewed.

She dried off and dressed; the robe was far too big and irritatingly rough compared to the fine fabrics she was accustomed to. Still, it was warm and dry and fresh-smelling. Having made herself as decent as possible, she left the sanctuary of the washroom and went out into the corridor. To her ire, he was there, leaning casually against the wall.

"Did no one ever teach you to knock?" she demanded.

"I am sorry about that. Force of habit."

"I'm sure. You look ever so apologetic."

"I am!" He frowned when he inspected her face. "That's gotten worse. It's broken, isn't it?"

"Must you dwell on it?"

"I'll fix it for you."

"Excuse me?"

"Come here. It just needs to be put back in place. You'll feel a little pinch, and it'll be all over."

She scowled. "I suppose you'll tell me next that you're a doctor."
"Don't need to be. It's just a nose. Come here."

"No!"

"Trust me. You'll feel so much better if you let me. I promise."

She stared hard at him. "If you're lying – if this is some Light-dweller practical joke – I warn you, I have magic."

"Just relax."

He placed his fingertips on either side of her nose and gently felt about until she winced. Nodding to himself as if this meant something, he gave a sharp and decisive twist. The snap shot through her skull and she was instantly blinded by tears springing up from the pain. She yelled and slapped his face; he backed away grinning.

"A little pinch? You call that a little pinch!" she shrilled.

"Maybe I understated how much it would hurt at first, but I didn't lie about feeling better for it. I bet it's already improving, isn't it?"

Gingerly, she touched her face. Her nose did feel better; it didn't throb with every twitch of her mouth or eyes. "It still hurts."

"It'll fade," he said with a smile. "Come on. I'll take you to my quarters."

She froze and spat, "Of all the indecency! You interrupt my bath, violate me with your eyes, and then casually invite me to your bed? I shall not tolerate these insults. I do not even know your name. You are no-one to me!"

"What? No! That isn't what I meant." He held up his hands. "Please forgive the misunderstanding. It's just that you need somewhere to stay until morning. Rooms are at a bit of a premium, but I have a patrol to finish anyway. You can stay in my room and rest in the meantime."

"Ha!"

"It's either that or a hallway somewhere."

"Is there nowhere else? No women whose rooms I could share?"

"None. I'm sorry. But you have my word, I won't come in until I must wake you to leave in the morning. Oh, and my name is Ronan. Ronan Barr, corporal in Her Majesty Princess Zelda's army."

"Charmed," said Areanna venomously. With some effort, he convinced her to go to his room. She followed him up stairs and through narrow hallways until they reach the soldiers' quarters. He held his door open for her; she stepped inside quickly. The room was Spartan to say the least; only a few personal effects adorned the bedside table and single shelf. There was no window, but a small hearth burned in the corner, giving the room a warm and sleepy feeling.

"There's more wood there if the fire gets low," Ronan said. "And there is some food and ale in the ice box, right there. You must be hungry."

"Not particularly."

"Well, you're welcome to it if you change your mind. And if you leave here, be careful not to lock yourself out. I won't be back for a few hours."

"I can manage."

"See you, then. And again, I am sorry for earlier." With that, he was gone.

Areanna stood alone for a long moment, feeling desperately uncomfortable. She was in a foreign soldier's personal quarters, dressed only in a bathrobe, with no idea how long she had until morning or what would happen when the sun finally rose. At a complete impasse, she sat down on the bed. It felt heavenly just to rest her feet; she lay back and nestled her head on the pillow and savored a delicious stretch. Exhaustion overriding insecurities, she closed her eyes. Only for a little while. I won't fall asleep. I will not fall asleep… I will not… It took only minutes for the comforting heat and crackle of the fire to lull her into unconsciousness.