Chapter 30
Wolf wrapped in silk
Sand sucked him towards the writhing monster. Molgera surfed and Link tracked it angrily, his hookshot poised.
It rose, a snake-like body coiling above an ocean of sand grains. Vibrations played on Link's legs, he sloshed through the gritty pool, fighting to keep balance. Molgera opened its mouth, jaws stringy with saliva and a blue reed tongue sticking straight from its gullet.
The hookshot speared into the appendage and the monster thrashed, a tidal wave of sand hit Link and he slipped, sliding all the way into Molgera's waiting jaws.
Sawteeth plunged into his injured calf, blinding pain brought phosphenes to his eyes and he blinked the dizziness away.
"Swing harder," the helmed guard instructed. "Harder!" His harsh words filtered through the helmet and Link obstinately swallowed and swung. His joints ached, his muscles screamed for a break but in the courtyard of Hyrule Palace, a hundred other trainees did the same and he will not be the one left behind. Focusing on a raised parapet, he forced his blade to whistle through the air and the pain numbed to a burning, prickling sensation.
Movement on the parapet brought Link back to sharp focus, his overworked arms begged for release but he renewed his grip on the sweat slicked sword handle and swung fiercely, trying to catch the attention of a delegation striding across the bulwark. The Captain led a marching group and desperate, Link sliced the air ferociously. The man above him, helmet tucked under an arm and two swords dangling from ornate sheaths, paused for a split second, head swiveling to the sandy haired boy below. Conscious of the delegation stopping to ogle at him, Link practiced with one point concentration and the dark haired man's words carried clearly over the labored breathing in the stone paved courtyard.
"My son," the captain offered to the delegates and elegantly whirled away. He wore the same uniform as the rest of the Castle Guards, yet, his chainmail tunic shone more vividly. The dark haired man said nothing else. No flowery presentation.
Nothing of the Triforce bearer of Courage.
Breath exploding in ragged gasps, Link pried Molgera's jaws off his calf and pulled the hookshot. The monster screeched, its tail hitting the sand and tried to retract. Blinking away the sweat pouring into his eyes, Link slashed thrice in rapid succession and back flipped, his calf and toe throbbed in pain and he touched one knee to the ground, breathing heavily.
Molgera dove into its pit and a dark shadow revealed its location. Keeping it well in sight, Link moved accordingly. When the monster reared back in the air, the hookshot snared its tongue and it heaved to the ground.
An accurately timed spin attack cut Molgera's teeth and left its mouth a butchered, bleeding mess seeping into the sand.
A circlet of rock solidified in the center of the room along with a shaft of silvery, magical light. The door behind Link opened and Makar waddled in, violin and bow at the ready.
At the portal leading outside, the Korok played the Wind God's Aria together with Fado and letting the WindWaker drop, Link listened to the song. Music had a way to tug at the heartstrings, he thought. All those emotions he tried so hard to bury, spilled through the cracks made by the King of Red Lions. The boat softened him, beating seams into the mask he religiously maintained. The boiling vat of smothered pain, cultivated mistrust and fierce determination frothed over.
And it hurt.
Link did not want to feel, he craved the peace of mind attained by slaughtering monsters. Nightmares could be wrestled with, not feelings of abandonment and pain.
Makar bowed low to him and Link smiled widely, he liked the little Korok and his unpredictable moods. "Thank you," the new Wind Sage said respectfully and the Master Sword hummed, filled with power and eager to banish evil. "I will stay here and pray for your triumph," the Korok's leaf face pinched with effort, "and I am happy to see Fado again."
Outside, a breeze blew, crisp and clear. Gale Island no longer kept other sailors away with a perpetually gusting wind and embarrassed at his eagerness to see the paint peeled boat, Link pranced over the shores and landed with his characteristic, forceful thump of boots.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
A brightly colored feather lay on the deck and grasping his sword; he stalked to the deckhouse, noting the subtle signs of struggle. Claw marks slashed the taffrails, a talon gouged wood. The door to the cabin remained closed but no muffled signs of activity came from within.
He kicked the door open. Zelda kept the bed tidy after he complained one to many times. Clothes hung haphazardly on a stick-wardrobe, his tunics spilled to the floor. Maps, books and a candle littered the table and Link scrubbed a pool of wax congealed on a Triforce chart. Her neat handwriting, at odds with the rest of her, peeked from notes tucked beneath a book of ancient history and rifling through it, Link searched for clues.
A feather in dazzling colors swept into the cabin.
The Helmarock King.
Rushing outside, Link skidded to a stop before the figurehead. "Princess Zelda..." he began, his stomach dropping. This couldn't be happening. He never had a chance to apologize for his rude behavior.
"Has been taken hostage by Ganondorf," Daphnes completed and Link dropped weakly to the deck. "It happened after you entered the Wind Temple with Makar. She came out to sun herself." The King of Red Lions related how Tetra asked if the uppity brat and apricot sack left, when Daphnes confirmed Link's absence, she walked out, clad in her pirate's garb. At this, Link sighed. "Zelda set a target at the back, I believe she took your advice to heart and practiced with the bow, unfortunately, her arrows kept soaring off course and eventually she swung her dagger across the air."
Palm trees waved on the beach, a breeze lifted the fronds and fluttered them down.
"A shadow crossed the seas and without looking up, I knew it was the Helmarock King, a new one cracked its egg after the previous one died by your hands." The King of Red Lions creaked. "It took her, she fought back valiantly but lost the struggle, the bird plucked her off the deck and I watched uselessly."
"I suppose the child probably felt the same way when his sister was taken." Link touched the journal he took to carrying around. The flower he pressed in leaked on the pages, staining it a faint teal. A bit of seashell, stuck in the deck planks tugged his attention and restless, he bent on his hands and knees and pulled it out. "I should go after her, however..." he stared at his left hand, "I need to collect the Triforce shards before facing Ganondorf. What should I do?"
Daphnes regarded his passenger.
Who was this?
"Are you asking me my boy?" Link's cheeks flushed, an occurrence happening more frequently. "Well... the rational thing to do would be to have your Triforce charts deciphered."
The boy frowned, grabbed a chart stored in a nearby chest and his lips moved soundlessly, trying to make sense of the cryptic code on the map.
"And yes, to complete the Triforce of Courage before clashing with Ganondorf."
"It's the rational thing to do," Link repeated. "It's what I would do." He clutched the map tighter, the sheet near breaking point. "What would someone else do?"
Waves lapped against the boat and he drifted further apart from Gale Island's beach. "The child would rush at Ganondorf," the King of Red Lions mused, "it is how he operates." Link nodded, jaws taut. "He will come back beaten, bruised and hunt for the Triforce before resuming his rescue of the Princess." Daphnes peered at the horizon, each time he tried to picture his own children; a princess with pearls of wisdom in her eyes and a rosy cheeked prince who hopped around the throne room with carefree abandon, he realized he failed to recall their appearance. Prussian blue irises turned like a magnet to Link.
Every time he closed his eyes to see his children, he saw the blonde boy rooted on the deck. A Triforce chart hung loosely in his hand.
"King of Red Lions sir?" Link prompted impatiently. "Maybe I should visit home first."
The outlandish suggestion forced the boat to open his eyes. "What?" Daphnes sputtered. The hero tucked his chart away and grabbed the colorful feather, tearing it into strands and blowing them to the sea. "My boy…are you serious?"
His tar irises shone seriously. "Yes, I want to see if Grandma and Aryll are safe."
If the visit to Outset was supposed to calm Link, it did not.
The King of Red Lions held his breath as the boy stormed across the grassy slopes and on the beach. Rage simmered in the curve of his tight smile as he hugged his Grandmother tenderly and she pressed her wrinkled lips on his forehead. Link marched across the pier, the wood quivering under his wrath, he lowered in the boat, rigged the sail and waved farewell like a sweet boy till Outset Island receded into a smudge on the misty sea.
"Aryll did not return home," he hissed and hunted for the whetstone, the bone chilling scrape of metal on stone rung loudly in the air. "It's not Zelda's fault." He flicked the blade sideways without looking and a dying shark's ruby blood stained the waters. "When I cross those pirates," a predatory grin lifted the corners of his mouth, "I'm going to grind them into fish bait. I'll save the hulking second mate for last." Wind tousled his hair and bore the reek of iron. "I asked Sturgeon to decipher the Triforce charts; he said he couldn't, he told me to go to Tingle. I don't know a Tingle, do you?" Getting up, Link hung over the King of Red Lions who skimmed over the waves. "And if he is such an expert on deciphering charts, I'm surprised the Pirates didn't get to him first," Link squinted at a marked location on his map, north east of Outset Island, "I heard he lives alone...I admit, I'm looking forward to see him."
Thunder growled in the west, the sea sped in a blur as a cyclone rushed Link and Daphnes across the sea. Stuffing a bunch of herbs in his mouth, the boy closed his eyes in an attempt to mediate the rising tide of nausea. The King of Red Lions admired his tenacity, the boy lasted till night, he crawled weakly to the side of the boat and his pitiful retching reached the boat's ears.
"Try to eat something light," Daphnes coaxed as Link stared dismally at the wind rotating under them. "This is an inconvenient way to travel, we should have sailed instead."
Lurching to the food crate and peeling an orange, the hero scowled. "Sailing would've taken weeks," he gagged, "and we don't have time. I know Ganondorf won't extract the Triforce from her, he will take it after beating us to submission, or so he thinks." The scent of citrus calmed his roiling stomach. "In any case, he will want to take it from both of us at once but I don't trust him, he might hypnotize her to do her bidding," his voice dropped, "it has been done before."
A few days later, the boat bumped against the cliff shores of Tingle Island. Sallow cheeked and mouth opening in disgust, Link goggled the figure erected on the very top of the tower and shared a glance with the King of Red Lions. "That's Tingle?" he pointed an accusing finger at the figure, "I freed him from jail at Windfall Island, how is he supposed to be an expert on maps? I recall him garbling something about being a fairy!" The boy tended to the Master Sword, carefully cleaning it from crusted blood and oiling it. "Did you know about this?" His eyes pinned to the boat, furious for not being informed.
"Tingle is a bit eccentric," Daphnes conceded and Link rolled his eyes. "If I notified you beforehand, you would simply insist on finding another person who is not Tingle." Link spread crumbs on the surface of the sea and a school of Fishmen gathered to eat. "And although the Fishmen are expert cartographers, they are not suited to deciphering charts. Tingle," the boat smiled, "is vastly attuned to magic."
The boy snorted and trigged the hookshot, the tip sunk into pewter stone and he tugged the chain, when it held, the hiked to the island. "Of all the people to be attuned to magic, Tingle becomes the expert," he chuckled sarcastically and reached the top. "I'll return as soon as possible," Link shouted and the boat floated on docile waves, "please wait for me."
Of course I'll wait for you, Daphnes blinked indulgently and the child scampered off. Link always sought for an acknowledging gesture before leaving. Recently, he lingered longer, patiently waiting for a smile and once the boat's painted eyes crinkled, he brightened and spun on his heel, departing for whatever task lay ahead.
The sun spread scarlet on the calm sea and lips twisting into a displeased frown, Link reached the base, body tense for any monsters leaping out of the overgrown grass. The wooden tower, floor painted in warm tones of ochre, jutted out of the island and ended with the disgraceful figurehead. Tingle was far from handsome; Link entered the dark, cool confines of the building and the wood creaked beneath his boots, a glowing fairy would suit the tower cap better.
Wood rasped on wood, faint light lit the inside, drawing shadows in the corner. Large clay jars stood in a single, neat row and Link glared at them, fingers itching. They stared back, smug. A shelf contained dusty maps, their forms barely visible. Tensing when the middle beam of the tower rotated, Link examined it, the shaft started at the top and descended right through the floor and probably into the earth. Rapping his knuckles against it, he stalked to the set of varnished stairs and climbed it, emerging to an open platform.
Cursing the sight greeting him, Link started for the stairs. His pride as a man dwindled rapidly at the figures dancing in front of him.
"You are the gentleman who freed me from the cell," Tingle trilled, skipping to the hero who glowered at the individual towering above him. "Welcome to Tingle Island!"
"Welcome to Tingle Island!" the rest of the suit clad men echoed cheerfully and turned the central shaft.
Link recoiled. Why did they all look exactly like Tingle?
Retrieving the Triforce charts from his backpack, the boy stiffly handed them over. "I want the charts deciphered," Link politely requested, "as soon as possible. I need the Triforce to do battle."
Ruddy cheeks scrunching into a saccharine smile, Tingle scrutinized the coded charts. "Hmm~ decoding these charts will cost you-" He broke off when Link thrust a woefully empty wallet in his hands.
"It's all I have," the boy off handedly commented and turned. He wanted to cry. A leather belt bit into Tingle's belly flab and the man wore underwear on top of his skin tight suit. Link never wore such scandalizing clothes and going around bare-chested in the village was out of the question. Goats didn't ask questions about his scars, people did.
"Um...my service takes more than three thousand rupee-" Tingle began.
"Does it look like I have that amount of money?" Link barked. "No. Get it over and done with," he tapped his foot, "I don't have time."
Thud, thud, thud; the little boy's boot beat an ominous premonition on the floor. A shiver ran down Tingle's spine. The child watched him, vulturine gaze probing for a mistake. Clashing energy emanated from him, the chosen hero leaked a discordant magic, at odds with the rest of the Great Seas.
He did not belong here.
"I don't have an entire night." Dark veins pulsed under Link's eyes. "Hurry up," he growled.
Tingle decrypted the map on the lower floor, index finger pointing to the areas buried with the shards of Triforce. Initial hostility ebbing, the boy took keen interest, asking questions and eventually a smile crossed his lips. Keeping stray thoughts to himself, Tingle showed him how to best approach the areas. "The ancient magic shines a beam of light to the sky," a scintilla of disbelief flitted on Link's face and he nodded gravely, blonde eyebrows drawn. "The Triforce is in tangible pieces, you cannot dive to the ocean's floor to get them so you will need Daphnes' help."
"Does everyone on the Great Seas know him?" Link questioned. Every shore he traversed, the boat and the inhabitants interacted familiarly. He quashed a stirring in his chest.
Envy?
"Oh yes!" Tingle clapped his hands and swayed; Link gritted his teeth and trained his attention to the floor. The urge to break the pottery jars in the room grew to an overwhelming desire. "When I was young, the King of Red Lions used to be the object of ridicule," Tingle related. "People made fun of him for searching the Hero of Winds, most islanders gave up hope." The central shaft rotated with a squeak and a shout from the Tingle-men above. "But he has the last laugh, he found you and you are the chosen hero of our oral legends."
A knowing grin cut the boy's face. "I wonder," he cryptically remarked and rolled the charts, storing them carefully. "Thanks for everything, I'm sorry about the money," he apologized. "I don't really collect treasure, I didn't think it'd cost me anything to have them decoded, you have my gratitude." Firelight rested on his voluminous puff of hair and he bowed.
"You can stay for dinner," Tingle suggested brightly, the child's odd rhythm fascinated him; he was too precious to be transformed into a worker. The man rubbed his hands, he could try, but he suspected the boy will cut him before the magic took root. The hero's reflexes snapped lightning fast and he wore it confidently.
Inhaling sharply, Link refused and bolted.
XXXXX
Phantom and fog
Grinding the fish-head mask under his spiked ball and chain, Link, satisfied, kicked the remains into the corners of the room. The ruby lines pulsing in the seams of the slate bricks, morphed into a friendly teal and Midna floated to examine them. A gate obstinately barred the way and clawshot target plates hung above. Stomping his boots to get rid of the dust, Link switched his weapon and flew to the upper platforms, he huffed impatiently for his companion who slowly tore away from the walls and reluctantly followed him.
Charcoal fog, studded with glowing specks of scarlet, filled a large room and cautiously sniffing the air, Link shot an arrow through the cloud of black. The mist parted for a split second and closed, jealously guarding its secrets. Ears strained to hear the slightest sound, Link paled when he glimpsed another mask swimming in the depths of the fog. He stood on tip toes and the grind of chafing stone reached his ears. The fog moved like an amoeba and inwardly shrieking, he retreated from its nebulous reach.
"How many of those stupid masks does your fiancé wear?" he irritably asked and pointed at the mask, it shot a fireball and struck the opposite wall, leaving a scorch mark. "The people here can't dress; you need a lesson on proper clothing choices."
Griping and skirting the fog, Link took a carful step forward and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His pupil dilated and he reeled backwards, a howl exploding out of his throat. The shadow crystal lay heavily in his pocket and blue-grey fur erupted out of his arms. Bone snapped, crackled and he reformed as a sacred wolf, sidestepping in time to avoid a fiery projectile from roasting him. His vision cleared into a grainy field and floating orbs of concentrated Twilight magic.
Jaws snapped on the mask's smooth surface and slipped. Licking his aching teeth, Link lunged again, furiously trying to sink his teeth in stone. The fish-head heated in his mouth and the scrambled back, snout singed. Spitting at the mask, his ears lay flat on his head when Midna royally sailed in the fog, her demon-hair glowing.
The hair swarmed over the mask and crushed it, fragments crumbled from Midna's hand-hair and Link glowered at her smirk.
Why couldn't she help him earlier?
Outside the fog, he buckled when his physiology changed again. The over bright shades of stone faded, he could not distinguish minute crack lines nor scent the warped magic blanketing the realm. Base of his spine aching, he hobbled after Midna. She sped ahead, disregarding the twilit deku babas all lunging for a piece of Link. Using the gale boomerang, he knocked most of them out and rushed, just in time to see the Twilli disappear into a rectangle of darkness cut into the floor. Halting at the lip and searching for hand-holds to let him gently into the yawning pit, Link grabbed his hair in frustration. Above, a clawshot target plate winked merrily. He quickly speared it, gulped and descended without thinking.
The ebony air clawed into his mouth and eyes and he coughed to get rid of the choking sensation. A disengaging click echoed in the gloom and he yelped in surprise when the clawshot chain flashed silver and he fell on the cold, hard ground below.
"Sol," Midna whispered.
A loud smack of human meeting stone reverberated behind her but her saffron eye fixated on the hand covering a fulgent orb. Ribbons of sapphire light snaked across the room and Link rose from the ground, rubbing his aching muscles and snarling about carelessness. Transfixed, Midna lowered to the pedestal jailing the Sol, she touched the complicated runes and a crackle of lightning blasted her against the opposite wall. The smell of ozone oozed into the room and her hair stood on end. She weakly slid to the floor, eye screwed determinedly on the blinding white orb.
Two walls of Twilight slammed into the room, throbbing with angry, blood red lines. An image flickered in the space between them.
Phantom Zant.
Bewildered by his off-washed appearance, Link's eyes flickered toward Midna. She torpedoed off the ground, little hands outstretched for her traitorous advisor and he charged across the room, grabbing her before she reached the phantom.
"Are you crazy?" he admonished, she did not look at him. Her fang glinted in the harsh light of the room and her expression dripped poison. The holographic specter raised an arm and Link jumped back with Midna. "Stay in my shadow," he ordered, "I'll deal with him."
She turned her searing stare at him. "Are you telling me what to do?" Her tone dropped into a dangerous murmur.
Forcing himself to hold her iron will stare, Link nodded. "Yes." His voice cracked. "I've been listening to you ever since I've arrived here," he raised his chin defiantly, "the least you could do is accommodate me once in a while." Her impish features tightened. "Please," he pleaded softly, "you are scaring me."
Unclenching her fist, she smirked sardonically at the portal opening near Zant's sleeve. A multitude of Twilight creatures poured forth and she vanished as a flock of keese flew into Link's face. Flailing, his fingers brushed against his bow and he grasped the Master Sword, in the air of Twilight, it shone brighter, a beacon of hope. The humming blade cut through the monsters effortlessly, like scissors gliding through silk and he slashed, a shred of confidence guiding his attacks. Drawing on the feeling, he cut towards Phantom Zant, the blade slicing through the hologram.
The figure disappeared and Link imagined its smug smile. Would Zant smile like Midna? Full of prideful certainty? Or did his lips quirk in anticipation of betrayal?
Giving chase, the hero skidded to a stop and whirled around to slice the hologram appearing out of thin air. The specter raised its tasseled sleeve and melted, reforming a teasing few meters in front of Link. Holding the sword, Link pelted after the constantly appearing and disappearing phantom. It enraged him. He grasped for the fish-head mask cloaking Zant's head in obscurity and Link's hand closed in thin air.
"Angry?" Midna laughed in his head. "It's what he's good at," pain stung his temples, "playing games. He had me wrapped around his sleeves. Besides you can't really touch him, he's an afterimage, I killed the real him at Arbiter's Grounds."
And how did it feel? Link wanted to ask. Instead, he focused on carving the phantom before him. The silver blade phased right through the middle of the mask and the phantom dissolved.
Doubtful he truly vanquished the illusion; Link pressed his mouth against the freezing blade and sheathed it. He crawled to the ball of light and at his approach, the hand covering it eased slightly. Midna detached from his shadow and hungrily hovered above the light.
"This is a Sol," she explained, "it is the sun of the Twilight realm." She indicated the Sol, "isn't it beautiful? You should take it back to the Twilight Palace."
"M-me?" Link's brows furrowed, he did not want to touch the Sol, thank you very much. Besides, the thing looked heavy, how is he supposed to fight while lugging an eye searing ball? "I'm not sure I can..." he faltered. "Fine, you can't touch it can't you?"
Midna grinned knowingly and suppressing a shaky grin of his own, Link cradled the Sol in the crook of his elbow. He tore out of the room and paused when something shuffled behind him. "Do you hear that?" he asked Midna, she glued her eyes on the Sol and shook her head distractedly. Tensing and slowly looking back, Link screeched, "Holy Jabun! Why is that thing following me?" He scampered with the Twilight hand hot on his heels. The hand tracked him relentlessly, fingers running erratically on the ground and the image did not sit well with him, it gave him nausea. "Midna, stop that thing, isn't it one of your subjects? Tell it to stay!" Clutching the Sol closer to his chest, Link blinked back tears, why did all the weird stuff happen to him?
The Sol grew heavier with each step and arms aching, Link gently dropped it to the floor and strung an arrow in his bow. The projectile flew and pierced the Twilight hand stalking him. Oily sweat coated his forehead and rubbing it with his sleeve; he picked the orb and continued careering to the Twilight Palace courtyard. The paralyzed hand twitched into motion and sprang on its finger-legs, Link giggled at the thought; he looked at his own legs, scowled and ran.
Over the darkening horizon, the courtyard inched into view. More zombie Twilight wandered aimlessly and putting on a burst of speed for the last stretch, Link held his breath and sprinted, he tripped over an intricate dent in the center of the courtyard and the Sol soared out of his hands.
Oh no.
The fulgent orb defied the normal laws of physics, stuff thrown went up...not down, and curved, neatly settling into the indent at Link's feet. He gasped when porcelain light flared, bathing the yard. A nearby Twilli paused in dragging its feet, the mask on its face crumbled and Link ogled unashamedly at the individual.
A young boy with piercing, saffron irises.
His eyelids fluttered open as if waking from a dream and he blearily absorbed his surroundings, eyes wide in fright at the human in the courtyard. The boy crouched to the ground and trembled when Link approached. Other Twilli exhaled noisily when their snares crumbled and ignoring them, Link wrapped his arms around the shaking boy and smoothed his russet curls from his forehead.
The child garbled in Twilight language, voice pitching in excitement and the hero shook his head, he understood nothing. The boy tried again, this time gasping in the tongues reminiscent of the Zora and dismally, Link shook his head. Two tone face contorting with effort, the child's delicate features scrunched and he spoke through a dozen other fish sounds and rock sounds before his words made sense.
"Who are you?" he asked, wariness morphing into curiosity. The adult Twilli towered into a semi-circle behind Link and he felt their probing gazes stabbing his back. In contrast, the boy barely reached his thighs. So small. "You must be a denizen of light," the child piped, irises sparkling in wonder. "You look weird."
Says the black and white cookie with teal tron lines running from his belly.
"I'm the sacred wolf," the words tumbled out of Link. "I am here with your Princess to save the realm of Twilight."
An astonished ripple passed through the adults, they stiffened and backed away. The cyan veins on their bodies darkened and changed back to red and Link's head whipped to the little child. The Twilli shivered, the lambent emblem on his stomach darkening. He seized the child and hugged him, perhaps his light will force the corrupted magic to stop spreading.
"Hurts..." the boy whimpered and a mess of foreign Twilli language spilled from his mouth. Little fingers reached for Link's pointed ears. "You look different; I've always wanted to see a hume..." The cracked pieces of the mask smothered his last words.
Link held the limp child on his lap. Midna sat on his shoulder, gaze on the palace.
"There are other Sols to be placed in the courtyard," she softly informed, "we should get moving." Laying the child on the slate ground, Link placed a bottle of milk next to him, his own stomach growled loudly and he crammed a sandwich in his mouth. It tasted off. "He's not dead you know," the Twilli stated. "Once the corrupt magic is purified, he will come back again."
"I know..." The hero brushed his thumb across the child's cold palm. "But he said it hurts..." he muttered, "and I know how it hurts."
Shadow beasts prowled in the black fog, one clamped Link's hindquarter and howling, he shook it off and clawed the mask. A piece of it broke, revealing a crimson eye and suddenly afraid, Link shrunk.
What if the shadow beasts were once normal, tall Twilli?
"If you think too much, your brain will leak from your ears," Midna callously commented and gripped the fur fluffing on his back. "They are my people," she confirmed and the sacred wolf shuddered, "but these are beyond saving, Zant twisted their desires into the evil wrapping their hearts, the only deliverance we can give them is a swift death." The shadow beasts lumbered to their feet with a paralyzing screech and dove for them. "I pray they find solace after the ordeal they went through." Midna's glowing hair strung them together and smashed them on the floor and walls. Blood did not leak from their mangled bodies; their forms broke into small squares and drifted to the bizarre sky of Twilight.
The sword weaved through the holographic image of Zant. Directing all of his anger and hatred at the flickering phantom, Link heaved for air and cut across, his strikes heavy and imprecise. The air choked him, his vision blurred. He vaguely registered the floor lighting with uniform Twilight emblems and clawshot targets winking in the pale light washing over Midna's face. She did not smirk amusedly any longer, each new group of shadow beasts sapped her strength and Link did not look at her for guidance any longer.
Her anger mounted into a sorrow and wrath so potent, it prickled his skin. He tried to stay upright so Midna could cling for him to support.
When she finally did, pointy fingers digging into his shoulders, he wanted her to stay far, far away from him.
This will not last. One day she will go back to governing her realm, sitting on a throne with a new aide by her side; and him?
Will she remember him? The sniveling boy who helped her regain the kingdom despite every cell in his body screaming in fear?
"Link," her hand brushed across his cheek and he smiled to reassure her, "I'm sorry for being so selfish."
Don't apologize. He screeched internally. Midna and 'sorry' did not go together.
"I apologize for putting you through all this." A Sol dropped into the next indent and with both places filled, the light ripened into a soothing golden. Golden like Twilight. "I-" Midna swallowed when Link whirled around, the Light Sword gleaming ominously in his hand.
His ice-blue eyes speared into her like daggers. "Stop apologizing," he intoned lowly, "I was meant to do this from the start...stop whining, you sound pathetic!" She flinched. "...Act like you usually do," his mien softened, "the Midna I know pulled me by my earring when she was dissatisfied. When you change..."
It scares me, the words hung unsaid between them.
"Hoh? The doggy likes punishment." Midna crowed and folded her arms on his shoulder. "Your snazzy new Light Sword will be able to cut through the Twilight Fog." he swiped the blade across and she quickly drew out of the way. "Careful, it's extremely powerful, if it grazes me even by a little," she raised her wrist dramatically to her forehead, "you will have to kiss your precious princess goodbye."
Cheeks reddening, Link slashed the waterfall of shadow, it parted like mist under the rays of a noonday sun. He squared his shoulders, after he restored all the Sols. Twilight will be wholesome and beautiful again.
He smiled; he looked forward to see Midna on a throne.
Smoky grey tiles created a mosaic on a raised platform. Spherical crystal switches, like oversized pearls, ringed the dais and when Link performed a spin attack, the middle of the floor detached and elevated him to a series of mid-air platforms. Hands clenched in concentration, he hopped from one ledge to the other, blue veins glowed brightly under his boots. A wall of Twilight spewed flocks of shadow creatures and big key heavy in his pocket, he slashed through them all.
Arriving at a door emblazoned with Twilli runes and a heavy padlock, Link paused. He remembered his first encounter with a dungeon boss, the nefarious Diababa. He lost consciousness in there when the carnivorous plant/animal thing opened its mouth to reveal a tongue -gross- and spines of razor sharp teeth. Plants shouldn't have teeth, he sagely concluded. The runes on the door seemed to feed of his insecurities, they blazed in the dim room and the knot in his stomach intensified. Fishing the key, he grabbed the padlock and attempted to slot them together as Midna phased into view.
"Wait," she said. "This energy is familiar," Midna wracked her memories, "I felt it at the Forest Temple." A presence carried them out of the Forest Temple and the same feeling surfaced when Link clobbered Fyrus in the decaying Goron Mines, a different version of the energy solidified into Zant at Arbiter's grounds. "An enemy," she classified, "another obstacle to overcome." The imp opened her hand. "Give me the key, I want to unlock the door."
Handing the key over and wiping his sweaty palms, Link pressed his hands together and prayed. He wanted to go home; he hoped Aryll and Grandma were okay. He wished for the other Link to rescue Aryll and keep her safe. Murmuring under his breath, he opened his eyes when the chains to the door fell away and it slid apart, raining dust.
Human and Twilli petrified on entering the room.
Tasseled sleeves covering his hands, Zant stood there. Shock warped Midna's features, her mouth hung open and when it wore off, her eyes bulged. Rage. She floated lazily to the floor and tossed her head back.
"Zant," she sneered and the word echoed in the room.
Zant.
"You don't die easily do you?" No response from the individual. "But it is ironic isn't it?" Midna's lips curved into a savage smile. "You thought you could've gotten rid of Link...of us." Her iris narrowed venomously. "But here we are, all thanks to the shadow crystal you embedded in Link's forehead. Did you know? He is the Sacred Wolf our prophetic texts speak of. The one who will save Twilight."
The masked man moved, bulbous stone eyes resting on Link. He bared his teeth. Zant remained hidden while Link was exposed to scrutiny.
After an eternity of silence, Zant reached up, bell sleeves sliding back to expose marble white forearms and he removed his helmet. Link expected a deformed, lumpy face; why else would Zant wear the abomination of a helmet? However...
"Princess Midna," he spoke. A cyan rune glittered on his forehead and aquiline nose. "We are the tribe of Twilight, a race who mastered the art of magic." His shock of tangerine hair hung asymmetrical, shaved on one side and curtaining half his face on the other. "We are like insects in a cage." Ruby eyes shifted from one to the other and he smiled the same sly smile the hero associated with Midna. "The royal family is to blame for not revolting against the denizens of light. For eons we suffered shame and came to accept this miserable half existence." Thin lips twisted in anger. "I was angry," his hypnotic voice filled the hall and Link lowered his sword, Zant's words made a lot of sense, "and ambitious, I will admit." He grinned at the scowling Midna. "I wanted to rule Twilight, but when you were crowned princess, I was fascinated by you. I thought you would deliver us from the oppression we faced and so I worked myself into your good graces."
Helmet tucked under his arm, Zant paced. Grimacing at his shoes, Link followed him, eyes swinging like a pendulum.
"Instead, you wilted for them. The Princess of Hyrule...Zelda was it? Has you wrapped around her little finger." Zant threw his helmet and it crashed unnaturally loudly. He whisked around, his robes flaring, his composure cracking. "I hated it when you visited her; she tamed you like one tames a dog!" Cuts appeared on the corners of his lips, he grinded his teeth in frustration. "I advised you to stop consorting with the denizens of light, but did you listen to me? Of course not!" Zant screamed and Link took a step back, the previously handsome visage peeled off the raving advisor. "You continued listening to Zelda, to her outlandish theories, you blamed our ancestors for practicing magic and becoming greedy. You sought a hero to save Twilight...save it from what exactly? Tell me Midna, I'm waiting," his voice dipped to a velvety whisper.
Refusing to budge an inch when Zant cast a long shadow over her, Midna floated to his level. Once upon a time, she mooned over his face and enigmatic smiles. Ages ago, he burned with a desire to make Twilight a great and independent nation.
Hatred reduced him into a shell alive with the promise of vengeance.
"We had a premonition," she began, acutely aware of Link when she gently wound Zant's hair in her fingers, "there would be a great evil and the Sacred Wolf would save us from it." Midna tugged viciously and tore Zant's hair from his scalp, he did not flinch. "You are a fool, you are weak," she smirked, "you disgust me."
Jerking backwards, Zant tumbled over his shoes and fell backwards on the floor. He gasped and laughed, feet kicking the tiles childishly.
"You say Zelda has me in her snares? Hmph!" Midna hissed. "What about you and the God you rave so lovingly about?" On the floor, Zant stilled and raised his head. His face resonated with an alien quality. "You think of yourself as a prophet, coming to deliver peace. Your 'God' is a Triforce Bearer of Power who used using you as a vessel. You are gone...a long time ago. My words won't reach you anymore."
Rocketing to his heels, Zant shrieked, "Shut up! How dare you slander my God. He provided me with power, he paved a road for me when I fell into despair!" The chamber shifted, trees and green leaves pushed from the ground. The scent of pine and falling leaves tickled Link's nose. "He showed me the absoluteness of darkness...what will an unbeliever such as you know?"
"I know you are raving mad. You betrayed my trust. I do not take to such betrayal easily." Midna checked her nails. "You will be executed for treason and I will enjoy every moment of it." She nodded to Link. "Kill him."
Startled by the sheer emotionless in her voice, the hero moved to Zant. The corrupted Twilli giggled a high pitched laugh and teleported amongst the trees. When Link tried to cut through the images, he blinked when a sturdy pine tree trunk stopped the momentum of the sword. Dislodging it with a grunt, he ducked when a toxic ball flew from Zant's sleeve and smashed into the tree.
The tree melted.
Purple is evil, Link concluded and jumped, his sword sliced the inside of Zant's sleeve, revealing a thin, bony arm.
The trees in the hall sunk into a bubbling ground. Rock faces closed them from all sides, the fire glow of lava shone on earthen walls and sweat patches bloomed on Link's tunic. Magma bubbled underneath and he swung unsteadily on a circlet of magnet ore.
The iron boots!
Putting them one, he swayed nauseatingly. Zant's maniacal laughter echoed in Link's ears and Midna offered no help. A projectile clipped across the side of his face and Zant bounced again.
Running out breath, the Twilli hunched and breathed heavily, saliva poured out of his mouth, he looked up when Link descended, sword aimed to cleave his head in half.
A headache shot through his head.
The surrounds changed into water and gasping for breath, Link quickly stripped, becoming self-conscious when he reached for his pants. Uncaring if Midna saw him, he wrestled with the flapping Zora tunic and inhaled sweet oxygen. Zant created a whirlpool and the currents dragged him in. Link bashed his head against the boulder. Stars exploded in his eyes.
A silver chain wrapped around Zant, he tilted his head at his bound hands and pulled. Flying out of the gloom, the human smashed into him and they both sunk to the seafloor, grappling with each other. Sand rose from the bottom, clouding the water into sepia. His illusionary emblem flickered in and out like a bad dream. Dismantling it, he swung his hand and the sacred wolf arced across the air and plowed into the floor. A bone, or several, crackled like brittle glass and Zant grinned when Midna rushed to the human writhing in pain on the floor. She soothed the man and turned her acrimonious gaze at him.
"Rest," she told the so called savior of Twilight, "I will deal with Zant."
"No," Link got to his feet, wincing at the pain wrapping his muscles, "I don't need help to get rid of him. I got this." He lunged smoothly and Zant dodged. The hero rolled back, dropping into a sure fighting stance and the Hylian shield covered the bottom half of his chin.
Tearing off his dangling sleeve, Zant dodged three blows to his heart. The Light Sword shredded the front of his robe and he pulled it off, revealing a network of runes cascading all over his body. A fervor cloaked the human, he did not pause to consider his actions, instead, his sword struck for vital areas. The tip of cold, holy metal swept across Zant's chest and he screamed in pain when blood welled in crimson pearls along the incised line.
The hero smiled and the Twilli found nothing virtuous in the mocking curve of his lips.
Spinning, Zant herded Link backwards, but the relentless whirls did not deter Link. He fell, got up, and attacked with pointed concentration.
A hungry wolf sunk its jaws in prey; and it did not let go.
Collapsing in a throne-esque chair, Zant looked at the multitude of cuts crisscrossing his body. None fatal. Blood stained his skin pink, the room tossed, turned and whisked and he wanted it to stop.
Blood choked his throat, it poured from his nose. Through the film of pink obscuring his eyes, he bore witness as Link scored another deep cut on his thigh. The Light sword created a searing path from his abdomen and he wheezed when it burned a hole under his ribs.
The hero recoiled and Zant giggled. Why was the human scared?
Darkness clawed the edge of his vision and he cupped a hand to the gaping wound. Ruby liquid pooled in his hand and he registered Midna floating above him.
He craned his neck. "Laugh Midna," he rasped as blood trickled through his fingers. He wanted to touch her. "Laugh...it will make me feel better."
A/N: Zant in the game was a maniac puppet, serving as a underboss before the final reveal of Ganondorf. He had so much potential than to be a simple, raving, weird dude but alas, the creators covered him from head to toe and gave him a matching pair of stylized crocs to go along with it. 2/10 WW Link does not approve.
Please read and review, constructive criticism and remarks are highly appreciated. Here's to everyone in despair who hopefully did not turn out like our resident fashion disaster dude.