The Legend of Zelda: The Warrior Prince
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Chapter 24: Return to the Forest
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Agahnim's nimble fingers dart and twirl through the air, cutting sharp circles and wide figure eights, dancing like the legs of a spider fleeing the boot's wrath. His eyes are closed, viewing instead a space far away. Slowly he gasps, "They escaped Kwanis Maelstrom? How . . ."
Aganhim's stunted exhalation transforms into a laugh. "I knew it! They will be the ones to defeat Ganon . . ." his voice fades to a hushed whisper, "And set me free."
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A thin, dark-haired Dunlarian in a starkly cut, brown tunic scrambles around a corner, his arms overflowing with scrolls, Hylian banners, and various rolled documents. He spots a person in his way just slightly too late and skitters to a stop, papers spilling everywhere. "General Issir, I'm so sorry, sir!"
The darkly-tanned Sandman glares irritatedly but bends his knees to help pick up the papers that the court learner is spilling. "Scribe, what are you doing with all this garbage?"
The poor man shifts his arm to try to salute, spilling yet more papers. "Sir, I'm trying to finish compiling a detailed cultural report on the Hylians for Prince Raidon, he's missing—"
"You have noticed that there is a war going on, correct?" Issir states dully.
The scribe struggles to keep balanced, Issir just piled the papers back on and he started unsteady as it is. "Um . . . yes, sir, but what can I do to stop it? Even when lord Naku went out to speak to the public, he couldn't do anything. There was almost a riot in the capital from that—"
Issir waves his hand irritatedly, acting as if any insult against the High Prince caused him pain. "Yes, yes, I know. The Crown has been trying to repair the situation ever since that incident." Naku has indeed been struggling tirelessly for days, trying to figure out how to patch back together the mess that has blanketed Dunlar.
A new voice quips, "Yes, I'm sure he has, he wouldn't want his political power threatened." The woman walking down the hall spits out 'political' as if it is a poison.
Issir steps away from the girl and swings around to face her. "Lady Sarah. You should be endeavoring to help your husband."
"He is not my husband yet." Sarah snaps, crossing her arms and turning up her nose.
Issir takes one long step towards her and Sarah steps back, but his hand whips out and seizes her wrist. He jerks her hand in the air, letting the sleeve fall to reveal a filled inhibitor bracer. "Been causing any accidents, my lady?"
She responds with a glare and continued resistance, trying to wrench herself from his unflinching grip, though she might as well be trying to pull a mountain. "I don't like your tone, general. Release me this inst—"
Just as she passes over her point of balance, his hand snaps open and she falls over backwards. Issir smirks. "The crown prince may be smitten with you, but your bewitching holds no sway over me."
Sarah glares venom and, despite himself, Issir retreats one small step. He recovers his defensive maliciousness and states in a cold, measured tone, "You had best watch yourself. Not everyone is fooled by you. Everyone has their weakness."
The young elf woman glares daggers back at the general, and a bitter smile takes hold of her face. "Oh, I know. This truth I know quite well."
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A thunderclap rolls and the troop marches out of the sinister labyrinth. From the outside, the entrance appears to be no more than a short, square building of green-gray stone, with an entrance like a yawning maw, waiting to swallow up any hapless traveler. A semicircle of torches extends into the swamp, a peaceful pool at the center.
Curious, Link cautiously approaches. His fear and anxiety rapidly fade as he gazes into the clear waters, into the bowl-shaped sizes of the waterhole. Numbness, everything is all right, yet a nagging feeling from the back of his mind distantly shouts that something is off.
Link stands there at the water's edge, a strange yearning starting to creep into his numb mind, tantalizing the reaches of his consciousness. Into the building? Yes, of course, it could . . .
Quills poke into him and the Hylian transformed into a rabbit jumps ten feet into the air with a brief shout of pain.
"Sorry, I can't help it." The hedgehog-Dunlarian backs away and gives a courtesy glance at the pool before looking back at the semicircle of torches he was staring at. "So, what was so interesting . . ." Hiz gaze glazes over and he mutters, "Torches?"
Link opens his mouth, but his mind is clear now and he realizes he wasn't even looking into the water. Still, there was a dark glint, something inside that now calls to his curiosity, so the irritated rabbit-man looks into the pool, down the plain sides to spot a male elf wearing intricate, stunningly beautiful plate-mail armor. The gauntlets almost look like a second skin, fitting so neatly over the top of the hand, but he can just see that it leaves the palm-side of the fingertips open.
A bracelet of some bright, nearly luminescent turquoise closely hugs each wrist, the metal bands almost looking delicate, yet even Link can sense immense power emanating from them. Bracers flow up the arm to a guarded elbow joint, and then another close yet almost liquidly flowing over toned muscles. The pauldrons adorning the shoulders are broad, curving out from the body plating almost seamlessly and sweeping out, bringing to mind an eagle spreading its wings.
The chest plate of the beautiful plate-mail, if something so intricate could be called that, wraps close around the chest. Like the guards on the arms, it's almost as if someone poured molten metal over the man's toned body, except for the front, which is shaped partially by a familiar crest: an eagle bursting out, wings spread and talons open, its eyes bright and piercing. From behind shine rays of light, and below, between the spread talons, lie three equilateral triangles, not quite touching but together in the shape of a larger triangle, another equilateral triangle below which gives the symbol a feel like a spearhead.
Suddenly, the man's eyes open. Perfect white spheres stare out at him, and the shocked knight stumbles backwards with a yelp. "We have to get out of here!"
He glances at the others as he scrambles to his long feet, all of them are wandering with a dazed expression, except Zelda who's looking at the rest of them with a dumbfounded expression on her face. The rest of the troop, surprised by the knight's shout, begin to gather around and stare into the pool.
The young Hylian starts pushing, something shouting in his mind saying get out now. "No! Just go!" Stubbornly he pushes them all the way out of the ring of torches, and the wolf-man turns to snap at him.
"What is wrong with you, you psychotic Hylian?" Raidon puts away his dagger and stares, waiting for an explanation. Something else takes his attention and another takes Link's.
The surviving tree-Dunlarian looks back at the clearing they came from, muttering, "I thought I saw an elf down there."
A weak voice rasps out from the Fairy Lamp at Link's waist. "It was a warning, because the lair's entrapment extends beyond its stone container." Navi's voice halts, as if she had more to say but couldn't even find the energy to finish her words.
Raidon reaches a hand to his moon pendant, feeling a tug pulling him farther into the 'forest' they've walked into. He walks off and Link looks around, only now paying attention to the Dark World forest around them. Unlike Skull Woods back in Hyrule, this place seems vibrant and alive, bright colors and sharp changes of pattern showing the life like the bright green of a Light World forest. Still, similarities to Skull Wood remains, like the mix of crustacean, anemone, and choral 'trees'.
The path rounds a bend and a shelf of copper-red rock juts out to form a small clearing, at the tip of the rock flares a bright blue light as the portal blazes into its active state. The prince turns around and smiles proudly. "Well, that's taken care of. Soon we can all go back through to the safety of the Light Sphere."
The prince reaches down to his belt, but his wolf-hands can't grip the bag to draw his flute box. His eyes shoot open and he gasps when he realizes that it isn't working. "No!" He frantically paws at it for a minute before Link takes his shoulders and is about to shout at him when the prince powerfully knocks him away.
"No! Dimitri!" His cry echoes into the vibrant yet strange forest around him, the tenor of fear seeming to grow with the cry's each reflection. "Dimitri!" Nothing but the soft rustle of the anemone trees waving in the non-existent wind. "Dimitriiiii!"
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"Here, Warrior Prince. This is the dodongo who will be your steed. The pride of Dunlan military, the Royal Cavalry."
Eagerly, the little boy bounces into the room, filled overflowing with youthful energy and curiosity. His enthusiasm is quickly curbed when he doesn't see one of the great, four-legged reptilian creatures. Instead, it's just a dodongo larva, its face familiar but for its puny jaws and its stub-limbed body more resembling the stubby end of a snake than the mighty bulk of an adult. "Hey, it's just a worm."
"A worm?! How dare you, elf!" The dodongo larva bunches, then thrusts himself at the boy prince.
Raidon remembers the many long lectures they gave him. You can't yield an inch to them, make sure they know who is Master now, before they weigh three tons and can crush you by rolling over. The brave seven-year-old throws himself against the larva, grasping the proto-horn-like projections and twisting, using leverage to throw the dodongo larva around, slamming the young reptile into the ground and winding him.
When the prince gets up, the dodongo remains almost motionless but for a quivering of uncertainty. "Well? What are you waiting for, Dimitri?"
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A thundering shakes the earth and the wind whips past as Raidon races over the savannahs of south Rastan. His short ponytail shakes in rhythm with the pace of the young adult dodongo bearing him over the dry grasslands. The wind whipping past, the beautiful silence, the peace, a feeling even if just for the moment of being totally free; a smile takes hold of the prince's face.
"Faster, Dimitri! Faster!"
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Hesitantly, the dodongo steps closer to the practice yard. With his scarred right side, eye scabbed closed, he was unable to accompany his prince on the raiding mission the previous day, and on returning he's been in this private practice court since. Dimitri can clearly hear one voice bellowing wordlessly above the whistling winds of the rising sandstorm, a hoarse battle cry borne of deep rage. Dimitri hesitates, then pushes open the gate.
Raidon is standing there next to the magical practice dummy, an object built of packed Dali reeds and a resin to make it harder than a normal opponent, an enchantment restoring every hack and slice to damage it.
Even with that power, Raidon and the heavy, training iron scimitar in his hands have scored deep gashes and he swings again and again, mercilessly beating down on the hapless dummy.
"Master?"
The Warrior Prince finishes with a downward power-blow that splits the dummy from head to halfway through the torso. Suddenly, the weariness he has been holding back overcomes him and the prince slumps to his knees, letting the weighted sword clatter to the ground. Out of strength to pick up the scimitar, he staggers to the weapon rack and takes a broad sword with an extended handle. He returns to the dummy without sending one word to his waiting steed and promptly begins hacking away at the reed foe, pure fury moving his limbs.
"Master . . ."
Raidon ignores him, brutally and rapidly hacking away at the dummy.
The dodongo sighs and uses his tail to push the gate closed before the screeching sandstorm tries to gain entrance to this place where he knows the young teen has been trying to expend his grief.
"Raidon!"
Either out of surprise or weariness he's unable to hold back, now the sword clatters out of his hands. He reaches out as if to pick it up, and Dimitri trots forward and steps on the blade to keep it down. Ever since sir Jenhan's death, he's been consumed by his inability to cope with the grief. "Master, it's okay to cry for the death of a loved one."
Raidon collapses against the strong bulk of his companion's frame, takes in a gulp of air, and does what no Dunlarian would ever allow another living soul to see. . .
He weeps.
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"Raidon." The prince is brought back into the present by a soft yet commanding voice. The first thing that greets him are sapphire blue eyes. Zelda.
The Dunlarian opens his mouth, closes it, then repeats a few times before his mind finally starts working. "But, Dimitri, he's . . ."
"Keeping his word. He's going to finish his mission, and so do we. We can come back to get him later, but right now we can't, so we have to keep moving ahead." Her beautiful eyes betray no hint of doubt, only oceans of certainty. "We'll come back for him."
Raidon swallows the lump forming in his throat, nods, and turns to the portal.