Quiet Cells, Dusty Floors
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He thinks it ironic, really. Once he had a prison made of wood. Now, at a moment of distraction, he found himself in a position strikingly alike to his previous imprisonment.
Now, he was a prisoner to just another jailor.
But, he would have it no other way. Not when he knows his actions had allowed his wife, the woman he loved as much as a deity could a mortal, to escape; cradling their—their child.
A feat he thought impossible.
No deity before had tried, had cared to try, he supposed. The knowledge they could sire or swell with life was not one deities spent time wondering, to bring life into this world, to grow to love it and cherish it only to lose it to time…
No other deities would dare lay with another one of their kind. That had been one of the rules the Golden Three had given. Never. They abided those rules well. He had seen no need to sire another possible deity; there was no need. What would they have domain over anyway?
His freedom from the prison of wood came gradually, time ticking away as that moment grew closer and closer. Millenniums upon millenniums he had waited; could feel it happening.
It had been a moment long-awaited, a moment he knew would arrive in due time.
He had grown a new type of patience when he learnt of his future. Had been a witness to what would be his future; he had sat in that blank whiteness for millenniums after discovering what he was to find, was to love, was to one day create.
It had given him a type of peace he had not ever known before. It was only a matter of time.
Then finally, his freedom had arrived. The breath of fresh air into his very own lungs, not those of a host's, was a memory he burnt into his mind.
A wanderer, a nomad was what he became as he rediscovered the world, watched as it changed and mortals evolved.
He witnessed two heroes rising before meeting the woman he could go onto marry, even when she knew what he was, what would one day happen—she could grow old with him, but he could not grow old with her.
Still, she loved him, married him, and gave birth to his child. A child he had long awaited; long ago already come to cherish; long ago learnt of the pain and struggle they would go through.
His only regret was that he could not be there to see Link grow for the first time.
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For each day that passes, Madius longs more for his wife, who he knows deep down is no longer there, and longs for his child, who he knows slumbers, peacefully waiting for the moment of their awakening.
For each day that passes, Madius does not wither away, does not age nor succumber to inflicted injuries or even starvation.
Killing a deity is not that simple, no matter what the Yiga had though when they had first taken him prisoner.
Madius spent one hundred and sixteen years within the cell, nothing in comparison to what he had seen, what he had experienced.
Isolation was not new; he might have grown used to company after his freedom, but it does not mean he forgot what loneliness felt like.
But one day, that isolation changes.
That pathetic man called Kohga had come parading into his cell to announce his child had awoken.
The man does not know what exactly that meant and Madius can only count down the days until he can finally meet the eyes of his child.
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His child bares the shape of a seven-year-old, skin blemished with scars but no red markings in sight.
Unnatural blue pools stare at him from outside the cell, pools full of curiosity and confusion.
Madius smiles at Link, feeling his heart pound in excitement, relief, love, "Hello."
Link blinks slowly, "…Who?"
"Call me Madius."
"…Why?"
"The Yiga fear me and so they imprisoned me."
A frown, "Why not kill?"
"Killing me is not so simple, little one."
Madius does not know if his child has come to the realisation of their identity yet, but he has no wish to misgender them. Gender has never been much of an issue to deities anyway. Some could even change at command.
Link blinks, tilting their head, that curiosity pipped, "…Free you?"
"Please."
And so Madius stands, free of the magical shackles holding him down. Link stared up at him, eyes wide. His height had always been alarming to some. He smiles down at Link.
"Now, where to?"
"Kogha," A beat, "N'eed to get stol'len Geru'do heir'loom."
Ah yes, Madius had heard the bastard horribly singing about the steal.
He happily offers to be the one to fight the deserter.
Link nonchalantly agrees.
This was going to be fun.