The Legend of Zelda: Reconciliation
Hey all!
All right, relatively short chapter, and some areas of it are still a little rough as far as I'm concerned, but I'm going through the semester from Hell here and I'm not going to get another chance to post it if I wait to re-write any more of it. -Makes a face- Wish I could tell you some kind of schedule for updates, but given that I have at LEAST one essay or mid-term, and often two or more, PER WEEK until the end of the semester (without a word of exaggeration), I'm not in a position to make promises.
Keep your eyes on FSConnect for updates on my progress or lack thereof.
There were other things I wanted to cover here, but I have to get to class and I'm afraid to put this off any longer. I'll cover it later, or maybe update this chapter if I get the chance.
This chapter sets out some (but not all) of the bigger changes I've made to the LttP plot. Hope this is acceptable.
In the meantime, hope you enjoy the read and it was worth the wait!
Rose Zemlya
www . fengs-shui . com / fsconnect
P.S. -Glower- Oh look ... I have to use Horizantal Rules again ... Joy ...
"The strongest and the fiercest spirit
That fought in heaven, now fiercer by despair."
—John Milton, Paradise Lost —
"It is easy to go down into Hell; night and day, the gates of dark Death stand wide; but to climb back again, to retrace one's steps to the upper air — there's the rub, the task. "
— Virgil, The Aeneid —
"We are each our own devil, and we make this world our Hell."
— Oscar Wilde —
xxx
A Brief Interlude
Ruto cut effortlessly through the water, less affected by the temperature than her companions – who were lacking their usual grace and speed and were in fact being decidedly sluggish, all things considered. Not that she blamed them. They were used to the warm springs of Zora's River, not the icy depths of Lake Hylia in the winter time. Acqul was the only one being decidedly chipper about the whole ordeal, but that, she suspected, was a side effect of having spent too much time in the desert without water. Lake Hylia might have been freezing cold and with a practically unbreakable layer of ice over the top of it, but it was still water. She supposed she couldn't blame him for that, either.
She briefly wondered how Laruto would have taken to the cold before crushing the thought mercilessly. She hadn't allowed herself to think of her daughter much since she had been captured. She had nearly killed herself with worry the first week after she had gone missing, and for the sake of her kingdom, her family, and herself she couldn't let that happen. A princess carried on. A queen carried on. There was little she could do for Laruto at this point except pray and have faith that somehow, someway the Goddesses would come through and deliver them all safely.
It had been harder, though, lately, to keep her mind from straying back to her daughter. After what Sahasrahla had said …
The Dark World?She thought despite herself. My baby's in the Dark World? She shook her head furiously and pushed herself faster, going through an unnecessarily complicated series of twists and loops to try and force herself to remain focused.
She had never seen the Dark World. Never been there. Not physically. But she had felt it, sensed it on the edge of her perception whenever she was in the Sacred Realm. What was left of the Sacred Realm, anyway. The little corner of it that Rauru had managed to preserve from Ganondorf's corruption.
It didn't feel good. It was a frightening thing. A thing of shadows and nightmares. No place for a three year old. Especially not her three year old.
It was a jealous thought, and she felt bad about it, though she made no attempts to drive it from her mind. She could see other mothers in the canals and streams of Zora's river, playing with their children, many of them little girls like Laruto. And every time, despite herself, despite all of her training as royalty, all of her work as a Sage, she wished it could have been one of those children instead of hers.
She wished no harm on anyone, especially not her own people, but this was her baby they were talking about.
Ruto's life was sacrifice, she knew that. As a princess. She was expected to sacrifice everything for her kingdom if it came down to that, and she would. Willingly. It was why her father had always spoiled her so badly. Because he knew that a royal's life is one of sacrifice. So he gave her everything she wanted, everything he could because the possibility that she might have to one day give it all up and more was always there. It was kind of like a trade-off, she supposed.
And as a Sage. She was expected to sacrifice everything and more for Hyrule, which, whether the world believed it or not, included the Gerudo too. She wasn't talking about the Kingdom. Hyrule was more than just a kingdom. Hyrule was more than just borders and treaties and alliances. Hyrule was the gateway to the Sacred Realm (or what had once been the Sacred Realm). Hyrule was the gateway to the Goddesses. Hyrule was more than even she knew, and she was one of its greatest protectors. And the trade off for that? It wasn't toys and sweets and frivolous things, it was power. Power over her element. That was the deal. That was the trade off.
Power and riches, for responsibility and sacrifice. It had never been a problem for her before.
But to sacrifice her child … her little girl …
All her training, all her knowledge, all her understanding of her duty came up to nothing against that thought.
She didn't know if she could do it.
The princess in her told her that sometimes, for the good of a Kingdom, sacrifices have to be made. You can't protect everyone in your kingdom, and sometimes you may have to leave some behind to save the rest.
The Sage in her told her that sometimes, for the good of all that is, sacrifices have to be made. You have to sacrifice yourself so that other people won't have to. In order to protect everything, you can't shield everyone.
But the Mother in her … the Mother in her ranted and railed against those other two and screamed that she would burn the world down if that was what it took to get her daughter back. That no matter what or who she had to sacrifice, it would be cheap at twice the price if she could just have her Laruto back.
Back and happy and safe.
She jumped in surprise as someone cut in front of her, back paddling quickly to keep from crashing into him. Acqul arched a brow as he panted and pointed backwards. Ruto turned around and noticed that she had quite outdistanced her companions (she could barely make them out) and felt a bit of a blush creep into her cheeks. She'd been so caught up in her thoughts she'd forgotten she was with other people, and none of them a Sage of Water.
Acqul wrapped one arm around her and pulled her into a tight hug with it. He held out his free hand where she could see it.
Are you all right? He signed, his fingers moving stiffly in the cold. She appreciated his effort at signing. The Zora had other ways of communicating under water (exclusive to their race seeing as the other races of Hyrule just weren't built to even hear the language without heavy magical help), but they were not private, and her people were worried enough about her without adding this onto the list. She sighed heavily and shook her head. You need to stay focused, he signed, kissing her on the cheek to take whatever sting she may have found out of his rebuke. The portal is around here somewhere, and if what the old man said is true …
I know, she signed back. I'm focused now. Besides, she added, unless the Moblins have suddenly learned to breathe underwater, I don't think we have much to worry about from—
Before she could finish the dark water was suddenly infused with a burst of light, bright enough to force the couple to shield their eyes in shock.
It's coming from the tower! Ruto cried, abandoning the sign language, and squinting in horror towards the source of the light. The base of the Tower of Farore was shining through the depths of the Lake, making it painful to look toward it.
What's going on? Acqul demanded, his voice tense. What is it doing?
Something's gone wrong, Ruto replied, suddenly afraid. It shouldn't be— She stopped in mid sentence and froze, catching a sudden scent in the water. Acqul tensed a split second later.
Blood … Zora blood …
They exchanged a horrified glance, but wasted no more time than that before swimming back towards where they had left their companions as fast as they could go.
Darunia frowned down at the opening to the cave with a bad taste in his mouth. Impa and her Sheikah had slipped quietly into it to investigate, but that had been a quarter of an hour ago. He knew the portal was in there, could feel the taint that whispered from it, but it shouldn't have taken them this long to find it. They should have been back by now, or have sent some word. That had been the arrangement.
"Come on, Impa," he rumbled. "Where are—" He cut himself off with a surprised cry as a sudden, unexpected shaft of light shot out of the mountains, cutting through the sky and illuminating the mountain range.
"Darunia!"
"What is it?"
"What's going on?"
Darunia shielded his eyes with one hand and gestured with the other for his soldiers to be quiet. He squinted out at the pillar of light, drawing a mental map in his head to its source and confirming his suspicions.
"It's the Tower of Din," he growled. "It shouldn't be … unless Neesha … Farore, Nayru, and Din!"
"Big Brother?"
"Forget the original plan, brothers!" He cried. "We're going in!" No questions asked, the Gorons dropped as one and curled up into balls, tumbling down the slope like an avalanche.
An avalanche with spikes.
Darunia had chosen the men for this mission carefully. Every last one of them was a weathered veteran. Every last one of them had fought first-generation Moblins before. Every last one of them knew the spike technique.
He knew what was awaiting them in that cave, and hoped they would be in time to aid the Sheikah.
It was time to remind the world that the right to be as laid back as the Gorons were was a privilege bought and protected with the blood of generations.
They skidded into the cave with a deafening clatter, taking the tight turns of the tunnel with the ease and expertise granted only by experience.
It was time to remind the world of why a people as fun-loving as the Gorons had once been feared and respected on the field of battle.
As they rounded the final corner and the sound of battle surrounded them they didn't hesitate. They cut a surprised swath through the gathered Moblins without so much as a shudder and cut straight through to the Sheikah on the other side.
Darunia de-balled and turned on the Moblins, bellowing a wordless battle cry, fists already on fire.
It was time to remind the Moblins of how some things never changed.
"Fall back!" Nabooru screamed, ducking under the wide slash of the Moblin she was fighting. She stabbed at it in attempt to drive her scimitar into a gap in its armour, but it twisted and took the hit on its buckler instead. She was forced to follow her own order as it swung at her again. "Fall back!"
The Elite responded with varied dismayed noises at what was always an unwelcome order, but were entirely too well trained to hesitate over disobeying in the middle of combat.
Besides, they could all see the necessity behind it, frustrating though that necessity was.
They'd found the portal a half hour ago, jutting inexplicably up out of the sand, the only landmark visible for miles. At the time it had been jealously guarded by a small clan of Moblins, maybe only thirty of them, tops. The clans that tended to form when Moblins were left to their own devices without any kind of power over them were usually bigger than that, but Moblins weren't known for their generous natures, and having found the portal, the clan didn't want to give it up. From the look of those left milling around the portal and in the small camp they'd made, there had been skirmishes and slowly but surely, other clans had been whittling their way through.
But if the Moblins weren't very good at sharing, then the Gerudo were abominable at it, and the Gerudo considered the desert theirs.
And besides, they needed at that portal.
So they'd swooped down and decimated what Moblins didn't flee – and there were a large number of them all things considered. The proximity of the portal seemed to give them some kind of courage they generally didn't display. Nabooru had a feeling it was the taint she could sense around the blasted thing. The Moblins – even these diluted, bastardized Moblins who had never seen the Dark World – could smell home from there, and were loath to give it up.
Which, of course, Nabooru had no problem with. As far as she was concerned if this pathetic, dying clan wanted to stand their ground and be cut down, then good. The less Moblins roaming her desert and throwing themselves against her walls, the better.
Granted, she was biased. She hated Moblins more than anyone she knew, probably even Link, who truth be told had a beef or two with the ugly things. But it wasn't without reason. As Sage of Spirit she could gain insight into the heart of anything that had one. And in the heart of the Moblins …
She saw in them, what she'd seen in Ganondorf, only undiluted, and without any of the saving qualities that Ganondorf had once had. Even at his worst there were still remnants of those qualities. The things that made him human. The things that made her understand him and the things he did maybe just a bit better than the others who were without that insight. It didn't make his actions right, by any means, nor did it render him forgivable, and she'd resolved long ago to never forgive Ganondorf. It just made him seem less … random. Less chaotic.
Through her abilities as a Sage, she'd learned that people rarely did things without reason, whether or not that reason was readily apparent. She'd learned that the line between most extremes was thinner than anyone thought it was, and any vice seen through the right light could be a virtue, and any virtue a vice.
But the Moblins … you couldn't view their vices in a different light because there was no light in them. They were creatures born of Ganondorf's nightmares, the manifestation of his corruption, and their existence was the anti-thesis to hers. Her job was to cleanse and preserve the spirit and soul of Hyrule and they were there to corrupt it. To twist it and dirty it and murder it, and that she would not abide.
And so she hadn't minded at all when they had decided to stand their ground and fight and die. In fact she'd felt a fierce sort of pleasure that she wouldn't have to chase them halfway across the desert to remove their taint.
But then the Tower of Nayru had exploded with light, and so had the portal.
The Moblins they'd been fighting were all dead, but new Moblins – first-generation Moblins – began to pour out of the portal. Thank the Goddess that the damned thing was only big enough to fit one at a time or they'd have been completely overwhelmed. As it was they were unprepared for the onslaught and it wasn't long before they were outnumbered.
The best among the Elite could take out a normal Moblin with a single hit, nine times out of ten before the stupid beast even realized he was being attacked.
But the Dark World Moblins weren't normal, and they had already lost three Elite to the attack. She offered a silent prayer as they pushed back towards their horses that they hadn't been any of Link's favourites. The boy didn't deal well with the deaths of those he cared about. It was one of the many Hylian habits of his she'd never been able to break him of, and she didn't relish seeing that stony face that meant he was currently being overwhelmed by his emotions and was doing his best not to show it.
"Go." It was Aliza, twisting in beside her under the swing of a Moblin sword. "Take the others and go. Run. Treia, Nira and I will hold them back and give you time to get to your horses. The base needs to be warned, and the King needs to be prepared." Nabooru slashed angrily at a Moblin that got too close and this time her blade drew blood.
"We're not leaving you behind to face this alone," she growled. "Now do as I say and fall back."
"You sound like the King!" Aliza growled back. "Put your heart aside and use your head. You know as well as I do that we'll never make it to the horses without this sacrifice. Go!"
Nabooru resisted the urge to blink at Aliza in shock at the argument, and as she slashed at the Moblin again she blamed Link for the whole situation. Link was the one who had made her loath to leave people behind like this. To abandon them to death, even a Gerudo's death. He'd had more of an influence on her than she'd realized, and on the Elite as well. This defiance … this was learned from Link too. He'd taught the Elite to question orders they knew to be wrong, taught them the value of expressing their opinions and ideas rather than simply waiting for orders.
The changes were slight, but they were there.
And she couldn't decide – beyond annoyance at this new chink in the once perfect Gerudo armour – how she felt about that. She shook her head and looked at Aliza.
"I honour your sacrifice," she said, then raised her voice and called the retreat, trying not to think about how Link was going to react to the news that they'd lost three Elite to the Moblins and she'd sacrificed three more.
xxx
Chapter 13
Oh Goddess …
Everything hurts …
A hoarse moan escapes my lips and startles my groggy mind back to consciousness – a mistake, if I've ever made one. Consciousness is not my friend. I try to swear, but all that comes out is another moan.
What the Hell happened to me? One minute I was trying to strangle Agahnim's corpse, and the next …
No good, my addled brain tries to tell me. This is no good! This is not the time to lie here with your eyes shut!
My eyes and body beg to differ. Everything really does hurt. Everything. Not the metaphysical, no-connection-to-a-physical-location pain I felt when Agahnim dragged me here. It's more of an every-bone-in-my-body-is-broken pain.
Farore … I think everything is …
I try to force my eyes open, but it's harder than I thought. My head is pounding, and on the edges of my consciousness I understand inherently there is an even worse pain waiting there, in the general vicinity of my arm, for when I finally get my wits together and manage to gain some semblance of self-awareness.
I toy with the idea of giving up entirely and letting myself fall back unconscious but something that is definitely not me but is likely sitting on me or something shifts on my chest and sends a white trail of agony up me. I gasp and at last my eyes open … then promptly slam shut as I hiss at the light that blinds and burns them.
Goddess …
I just can't catch a break …
The thing that is sitting on me makes a noise.
"Ki," it says. "Ki, ki, ki …?" It sounds like a question. Sort of. Insofar as it sounds like anything at all.
I feel like my whole head is wrapped in gauze.
"Who's there?" I demand.
Or at least … I try to. What comes out instead is a sound I've never made before and I sincerely hope to never make again. Kinda like a groan, kinda like a snarl, kinda like a whimper, or some random combination of all three.
"Ki!" Sharp, alarmed. The weight on my chest disappears and I raise my right arm to shield my eyes as I force them open again. It hurts like a bitch. I can feel the oh-so-familiar feeling of a hole in it. I've been stabbed.
When the Hell did I get stabbed?
While I was out?
Who stabs unconscious people? Unless, of course, you wanted the unconscious person dead. Which begs the question:
Who stabs unconscious people and misses?
"Ki, ki …" Tentative, questioning. I try to speak again.
"Who … agh!" Trying to move was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
The pain that I'd been afraid of, that had been hovering on the edges of my awareness pounces on my poor, defenceless nerves the instant I try to push myself up with my left arm. I crumple back onto the ground with something a little too close to a scream for my liking and clutch at my bad arm with my other bad arm (Farore I'm doing well).
It's broken.
What the Hell is going on? What happened to me?
I push the pain to the back of my mind and start taking a slow, almost fearful inventory of all my vital organs, limbs and other important pieces of my body. All present and accounted for, if bloodied, bruised, and otherwise damaged. I have a nasty gash on my left side, and my right arm has definitely been stabbed (as well as my right thigh), my head is pounding, I'm overheated, though whether from the temperature, which is something closer to mid-summer than mid-winter, or because I have a fever, I don't know. On this much, at least, I think luck is with me, and I think it's just the temperature. I don't feel sick, just hurt. Badly.
I shut my eyes tightly.
"I don't understand …"
"Ki, ki, ki …"
I snap my eyes open again and this time, instead of a bleak, cave wall, I'm staring into a pair of overly large black eyes. If my instincts weren't so fuzzy, I'd jerk back and away from it. I'm lucky I don't, as I think moving that fast would ultimately do more harm than good. As it is, I give a bit of a jump and the thing skitters back from me on all fours, crouching by the wall and peering at me with a fearful expression etched on a simian face.
"No hurt! No hurt!" It squeaks. I blink blearily at it.
"You, ngh … you speak?" It takes a cautious pace forward, creeping forward on all fours in a very monkey-like manner.
"A little, ki, ki," it says. "I forgets most."
"What … who …?" I close my eyes and force myself to roll back over onto my back, clenching my teeth against the ache from my arm. "Where am I?"
"My home!" Says the little creature, sounding more than a little indignant. "Mine!" I open my eyes again and peer around the small cave. The most remarkable thing in here is the pile of dead leaves in the corner, which I will assume serve as the little creature's bed, and a pile of discarded peels from Din knows what kind of fruit beside it. Beyond that … it's just a cave. And not a very deep one. Though I can't see the exit from here, light is pouring in from around the corner that I can see and I'm about as deep into it as you could get.
"Well excuse me," I mutter. "If I knew how I got here, I might apologize for intruding. As it is I think you're just going to have to put up with me bleeding all over your floor."
"No blood!" Squeaks the little thing. "No blood! You call nasties! Ki, ki!"
"If you don't want me to bleed, then find me some bandages," I say with a scowl. It stares at me blankly, mouthing the word bandages. I feel a sudden, intense sure of irritation that takes everything I have to swallow.
Great. Just great.
This is perfect.
"Never mind," I snap. "Just … never mind. Where are we?"
"My home—"
"I know that!" I interrupt. "Where is that? Where is this cave?"
"Uh…" I grind my teeth.
"What are we close to?" I refine the question. "What are we near? Death Mountain? Castletown? Lake Hylia?" The monkey's face twists into a sorrowful expression.
"Oh," he says. "Ki, ki. You're new."
My heart goes still and a chill runs down my spine as the odd exchange calls up another recent exchange.
"What have you done!" I demand with a snarl, fury raging in me once more, more violent than I've ever felt it. It frightens me, but I can't resist it. I lunge for him, grabbing him by the robes and shaking him. "Where have you taken us!" His laughs settle into chuckles witch in turn settle into a cruel grin as his features and body begin to decompose rapidly, turning to dust in my hands as the magic holding him together bleeds out of him with what's left of his life. His answer is barely audible, thick with blood and death, and drives a chill right into the heart of me.
"To Hell…"
"Oh no," I breath. "Oh Farore, no …"
"Yes," the little monkey says. "You knows, I thinks. You knows, ki, ki." I close my eyes and let my body go limp.
The Dark World …
I'm in the Dark World …
Oh Goddess … I'm so dead …
"Um," says the monkey, "um … you is being from the Hyrule?" I don't answer it, drowning for a moment in my own despair. "Um … sir? Beast sir? Is you being from the Hyrule?"
"What?" I ask, turning my head to peer at him.
"Hyrule."
"Yes," I say. "I'm from Hyrule." The monkey sidles closer still.
"You is … you is having Hyrule monies?" It asks, nose twitching, tail curved into a question mark over its head.
"What?" I demand, narrowing my eyes at it.
"Oh, Kiki will work for it, Beast sir! Kiki will! Please? If you is having Hyrule monies, you share with Kiki?" This is all just a little too surreal for my brain to take right now.
"What?" I repeat. I shake my head slowly. "Your name is Kiki?"
"Yes, ki, ki," he says. "Kiki is me. You have monies? You have shiny monies?"
"What do you need money for?" I demand.
"Oh please!" Kiki cries, coming close enough to grab at my tattered tunic and pull pleadingly on it – a fact which only serves to send a fresh wave of agony rippling through my arm. I hiss and Kiki immediately drops my arm. "Oh! Ki, ki, ki!" He cries.
"Kiki," I moan, "shut up … oh my Goddess, shut up! You're so loud!"
"Kiki will be quiet, Beast sir, ki, he will! If you gives him monies."
"Kiki will be quiet if he doesn't want me to rip his vocal chords out," I mutter under my breath, then add, louder, "Kiki, I can barely move right now, all right? Yes, I have money. I have lots of money. But I can't get it until I don't hurt so much. I need … oh for Nayru's sake, why am I even talking to you? You're a monkey, Farore."
"Tell Kiki, sir! Tell Kiki what it is you is being needing!" His expression is genuinely pleading as he stares up at me. "Please?"
"You don't even know what bandages are," I respond flatly.
"No … but Kiki is knowing someone who does!" He responds eagerly. "Kiki can fetch her! Kiki can fetch the Pale One!" And as fast as that he's gone, chittering happily as he runs around the corner.
"No! Kiki, wait!" I gasp, but it's too late. He's gone. I stare after him with a dark frown on my face that isn't entirely connected with the pain.
Whoever this Pale One is … I hope she's a friend …
I turn my eyes back to the ceiling and my frown darkens.
And why did he call me Beast sir?
The feeling of something cool and soft brings me back around.
Dammit … I must have passed out again. I'm going to get myself killed if I keep this up.
A small part of me frightens me by asking if that wouldn't be better after all.
I open my eyes slowly, having learned my lesson from last time well enough, and give them time to adjust to the light, but it isn't so bad this time. It's not as bright, anymore.
How long have I been out?
I raise my "good" arm to my forehead, but instead of touching my head, I meet long tapered fingers – apparently the cool and soft thing that brought me back around. I blink in surprise and look up, following the arm attached to the fingers until I meet another set of eyes; though perhaps "meet" is the wrong word.
What were likely once beautiful golden eyes are now clouded over with cataracts, the irises barely visible beneath the fog.
"You are awake," comments the mouth beneath the eyes with a pleased smile. The voice is warm and soothing. "I was wondering if I would have time to speak with you before nightfall." I blink a couple times and try to clear my head.
"Who …"
"This is being the pale one!" Says a happy voice to my other side. I shift my gaze to the little simian who is perched beside me. "I gots her. She knows bandages." The person with the cataracts smiles a bit sheepishly.
"Well," she says, "I had to use your coat and your tunic, I hope you don't mind. Medical supplies are hard to come by here."
Actually, come to think of it, I'm not sure she's a she. I squint up at her. Which isn't to say I'm sure she's a he either …
"If you stopped the bleeding, I'm not about to complain about how you did it," I manage. Something – three guesses what – pulls on my sleeve and I bite back my irritation. "What, Kiki? What?" Kiki shrinks a bit, but presses on nonetheless.
"Ki, you is having Hyrule monies now?" He asks timidly. "You is sharing with Kiki? Please? Ki, ki, prettily please?"
"Pretty please," the pale one corrects.
"Pretty please?" Kiki amends. "I loves them so! I do!" I narrow my eyes at it.
"If I pay you, will you be quiet and let me speak to the not-a-monkey-person?" I demand.
"Oh yes!" Says Kiki, eyes shining with anticipation. "I promises!"
"Fine," I mutter. "Where's my pouch?" Kiki immediately scampers a few steps over to the wall where I can now see all my things. I do a quick inventory of what I can see and am satisfied that none of it has gone missing.
Whatever these people are, they're not thieves.
Kiki runs back over with my pouch and drops it unceremoniously on my stomach. I reach into with my good hand and fish around until I catch hold of a red rupee. I have no idea what passes for a tip here in the Dark World, but he'll complain if it's not enough, I'm sure. I pull the money out and hold it out to him. He snatches it greedily as I turn back to squint at the pale one.
If nothing else, she's aptly named. Her skin is almost deathly pale, but I don't think she's suppose to look that way. Maybe deathly is an appropriate word after all. She's obviously not from Hyrule. First off, there's the androgyny. Don't get me wrong, there are androgynous people in Hyrule, and plenty of them, but this woman – and I'm using the term as merely a point of reference – is perfectly androgynous. I really haven't got a clue as to her gender. Secondly, she doesn't move like a normal person. She's about ten times as graceful as anyone I know, Zelda included, and this I can tell just from the way she sits and moves her head. Thirdly, there's the wings. Nobody in Hyrule has wings, but lo and behold, folded neatly behind her back are a large pair of feathered wings that must once have been beautiful. The feathers are limp and listless, now, though, and despite their size, they don't look nearly strong enough to hold her if she were to try and fly with them.
She's dressed in a simple blue tunic with relatively little embellishment (unless you count the fact that it's pretty tattered and worn embellishment) and matching leggings, but nothing on her feet, which, given the little claws on her toes, are decidedly not Hylian feet. Or any other kind of feet I've ever seen.
I frown in an attempt to drive off the headache I can feel coming on.
"What are you?" I ask, but before she can answer, something pulls on my sleeve. I close my eyes and grind my teeth. "Kiki, the deal was: I pay you, you leave me alone."
"I knows, Beast sir, I knows, ki, ki, ki," Kiki says, sounding suspiciously whiny. "But … Kiki is wondering … is you be having any green monies, sir?" I turn to face him.
"What?" I demand. "What are you on about?"
"Ki, ki. Green monies, sir," Kiki says. "Can I trades the red monies for the green monies?" I stare at him.
"What? The red moni—rupee is worth more. It's better. Keep the red one." Kiki's simian face turns up into a decidedly petulant expression.
"The greens is prettier!" He complains. "I wants the prettier!" I scowl at him.
"What is—" The pale one lays a hand on my shoulder and I blink, looking up at her.
"Kiki doesn't care for the monetary worth of the rupees," she explains. "He doesn't spend them. He collects them. Green is his favourite colour. He would be much better rewarded with a simple green rupee, than if you gave him even a gold."
"Prettily please?" Kiki says.
"Farore," I mutter. "Whatever." I shove my hand back into my pouch and pull out a green rupee, exchanging it for the red one in Kiki's hand. This time I scowl at him until he scampers off to the other end of the cave where he promptly drops onto his back in a quickly dying sunbeam and admires his prize.
"This is insane," I growl. "I'm lying here on what will probably be my deathbed, arguing with a monkey and a Farore-knows-what over rupees instead of committing suicide like I probably should be after how badly I've screwed everything up. Din. This really is Hell." The pale one says nothing, but her face takes on a sad, concerned expression. I rub my face with my good hand and make a frustrated noise.
"Look," I say tensely. "I'm sorry. I'm not exactly on my best behaviour here. It's not that I don't appreciate your help, I just—" The pale one lifts a long hand and I fall silent and raise an eyebrow at her.
"It's all right," she says. "And … it's not your fault. It's this place. It holds a sway over the emotions of those without shields. It encourages and feeds on the negative emotions: like despair, anger, fear, and their ilk. It will seek to pervert, corrupt, and destroy you through these emotions." She pauses, and fixes me with a serious look. "I know it's hard, but you must fight it. The more you give in to it, the harder it gets to resist."
"The Dark World is making me feel like this?"
"Yes," she answers. "It's a subtle thing, disguised as your own emotions, but you must fight it if we are to have any hope."
"Who are you?" I ask with a frown.
"I have many names," she replies softly, apparently taking no note of the bluntness of my question. "But my most common, perhaps, is Anduriel. You may use it, if you like, or give me another. It doesn't really matter, my kind have very little use for such things. And you," she adds, before I can say anything, "are Link, the Hero of Time." I blink in surprise.
"How do you know my name?" I ask. Anduriel offers me a wry smile.
"Even if you did not carry the Sword of Evil's Bane, young Hero, I would know you. Everyone who is of this place would know you. They could be as blind as I am and they would know you still." I frown, disconcerted by this information, though I can't say why.
"If you're blind," I ask, "how do you know I carry the Master Sword?" Her smile widens.
"Because it, like me, is of this place. Or of the place this was, once up on a time. It has not been so long that I have forgotten the call of a sister." I was about to ask her what makes her think I didn't just steal the sword, but this last distracts me and causes me to make a face.
"The Master Sword is a girl?" I demand. Anduriel laughs, the sound pleasant and heartening.
"Would that be so awful?" she asks with an easy smile. "But no. It is not female. And it is not male. It has no more gender than I do. I use the term sister merely to illustrate the relationship between it and I." I blink.
"You … don't have a gender?" I ask. Well that answers a lot. Anduriel shakes her (its, I suppose) head. "So … what are you, then? I've never … I mean, I've seen a lot of things, and been a lot of places, but I've never met a person like you."
"Well," says Anduriel carefully, "strictly speaking, I am not a person. The Hylians would call me an angel, I think. The Gerudo would name me Avatar. The Gorons would call me a steward, and the Zoras a watchman, but it is the Sheikah, I think, who come closest, as Sheikah tend to do on things involving history and myth. They have a word in their ancient language, Makani, which means Guardian. Specifically a Guardian of the Sacred Realm. I am, or was, one of the sentinels charged with defending the Sacred Realm from those who would seek to abuse it. More specifically, I was the Seventh Sentinel. In addition to protecting my corner of the Sacred Realm, my purpose was to guard the Triforce from those unworthy souls who sought it out." I raise an eyebrow.
"There was a guard on the Triforce? And Ganondorf still got through?" Anduriel's face changes, grows dark and angry.
"Ganondorf, or Ganon as he calls himself now, passed the first of the trials and the Triforce deemed him worthy of continuing," she says, her frown dangerously close to turning into a scowl. "I did not question the Triforce. I am born of it, and cannot deny its will. This is my purpose." She sounds as though she's questioning it now. I feel a sudden coldness in my gut.
If she has to obey the Triforce, and Ganon is its master …
It occurs to me that I haven't got the energy to deal with this subtly, so I just ask her flat out.
If she's going to kill me, she would have done it by now, right?
"So … what are you doing here, then?" I ask. "Shouldn't you be with Ganon and the Triforce?" She makes a derisive noise.
"Ganon is not my master," she says angrily. "The Triforce is my master. And the Triforce is divided in three. Until such a time as it is united once again in a worthy individual, I serve none but the Sacred Realm. I live and die for the Sacred Realm."
"You mean the Dark World," I respond flatly.
"A two-dimensional name used to describe the way the Sacred Realm is now compared to the way it was then," Anduriel retorts. "This is the Sacred Realm, whether corrupted or not, and I will serve it until I die." I raise an eyebrow.
"No offence, Anduriel," I say, eyeing her up and down, "but you don't look like you've been doing all that great here." I immediately regret my words as the righteous anger that had imbued her face vanishes and she seems to wilt.
"No," she admits, "I have not. The Triforce is split, and I can draw no strength from the Golden Power. I could not even defend my own domain. I have been … relieved of it by my siblings, and replaced with an abomination."
"Your siblings?" I ask. "You mean the other Sentinels?"
"Yes," Anduriel says softly, an expression of inarticulate sorrow on her face. Her clouded eyes grow vacant, as though she is seeing something else entirely. "You know the story of Ganon and the Triforce?" I raise an eyebrow and point at my left hand, resting easily in its sling on my chest. The Triforce mark glitters up at us from the back of it.
"Like the back of my hand," I respond, reflecting for an instant that a joke as Goddess awful as that would have had Talon rolling around in stitches on the floor while I stood there and thought myself quite clever for it. It's an image that should be a positive one, backed as it is with memories of similar times, but instead it's just painful. It throws my current situation into sharp relief and highlights the fact that I'll probably never be able to tell Talon jokes again.
"Fight it, Hero," Anduriel says. "You must resist the pull." I blink and shake my head.
"Fine, I'm fine," I say, waving off her concern. "Go on."
Anduriel continues with a nod.
"As I've said, I was born of the Triforce, as were the other Sentinels. The other Makani. There were seven of us, total. We preformed our duties and lived quite happily. Until Ganon."
"There are times when I think everybody lived happily until Ganon," I say softly. Anduriel's expression grows cloudy and dark as she remembers.
"When Ganon touched the Triforce, and became its master for that brief instant, he changed everything. He destroyed everything. We are tied to the Triforce and the Sacred Realm. When the Triforce reordered the Sacred Realm, we were caught up in the magic. In the Re-creation. My siblings … they were changed as surely as our world was changed. They were twisted, perverted. Turned into wretched shades of their former glory. Tortured husks of what they once were." Her voice goes deadly quiet, and her cloudy eyes are narrowed. "They serve him now. He was the Triforce's last master, and is still the master of the Sacred Realm, and they are not tied so tightly as I to the Golden Power. They couldn't resist him. They didn't stand a chance. They obey him, completely and utterly."
"But … then why haven't you changed?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at her. "Why don't you serve Ganon?"
"I would never," Anduriel says fiercely, "I would die first. He has proven unworthy of the Triforce, and I will not forgive his corruption of my sacred charge. You know of Rauru?" I nod slowly, and suddenly a few pieces fall together..
"Your domain was the piece that Rauru preserved," I say. "Is that it? That's how you escaped corruption."
"It was a piece of my domain, yes. A tiny piece, but it was enough." Anduriel says. "And I escaped the worst of the corruption. I escaped the Re-Creation. But I'm sure even your eyes, which have never seen Sentinels before, can tell that I did not escape unscathed." Her listless wings rustle sadly on her back.
"You do look a little … worse for the wear," I admit. Anduriel nods.
"I am tied inextricably to my domain, and to the Triforce. My domain is poisoned, and so I am poisoned. Rauru's preservation has allowed my body to keep living, and has given me the strength I need to keep my spirit pure of Ganon's taint. The fact that two of the Triforce pieces are with uncorrupted individuals has kept me sane. Courage and Wisdom protect me from the corruption of Power. But it is only a matter of time. The poison grows harder to resist with each passing day. I am weak, and growing weaker. I can no longer fly. For the first time since my creation I am afraid." I hesitate, but can't resist asking.
"Is that why you're blind?" Anduriel's hand moves of its own accord up to her useless eyes and a mournful sigh shakes her frame.
"No," she whispers. "This was something that was done to me when my domain was taken. This is poison of a different sort."
"Ki, ki," Kiki slides up to her side out of nowhere and peers upward. "You is asking Kiki to tell you when sun is goings down, ki." Anduriel blinks in surprise, and cranes her head around to peer out past the corner to the cave opening. She draws in her breath sharply, and when she turns back to me her face has hardened.
"Link," she says, "we haven't much time. I need you to tell me quickly how it is you came to be here." I balk at the sudden shift in tone and pace, my gut wrenching inexplicably.
"What's going on?" I demand. "What haven't we much time?"
"I'll explain in a moment. First I need to know why you're here. Did you come of your own accord?"
"No," I say flatly, feeling my anger begin to stir again as I think about why I'm here. "I did not…"
xxx
A Brief Interlude
"Impa!"
Impa resisted the urge to scowl. It never ended. She'd taken, what? Two steps back into the Caverns? More than half-supporting Dune on her shoulder, and with no few other Sheikah in a similar state at her back? And already somebody was shouting after her with that something-has-gone-horribly-wrong tone that she hated.
More than once she'd been accused of being a workaholic. Of taking her duties too seriously at the expense of her own personal life and health. But how could she do any less, exactly, when it felt like every time she turned her back something was going horribly wrong? There was always something that demanded her attention. Something that needed her and only her, and what was she supposed to do, say no?
It was not an easy way to live, but Impa had never really cared for easy.
If something had gone horribly wrong it had to be fixed, simple as that.
And she already knew something had gone horribly wrong, didn't she? The towers had activated and they'd been forced to call a retreat. The Gorons had managed to create a cave-in, buying them enough time to get out and get home, but she had no idea how long it would hold. She eyed Marcus as he ran up to her.
She already knew what he had to say. He was coming to tell her that Neesha had been taken. That was the only explanation for the tower's sudden activation.
She transferred Dune over to another Sheikah and turned to meet him.
"Marcus, report. What's wrong?" Marcus paused breathlessly.
"We caught a girl yesterday evening, calling out for help. She was stuck up behind the fence at the entrance to the Shadow Temple."
"How did she get up there?" Impa demanded. "Who is she?"
"Her name is Marni, she's a servant at the Golden Palace in Castletown." Impa felt a sudden sinking feeling in her gut. There was only on way to get from Castletown to the Shadow Temple and it involved a certain green-clothed boy. Impa pressed a hand to her forehead and squeezed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and her index finger.
"Farore," she swore. "The fool's gone to Castletown."
xxx
"He what!" Nabooru shrieked. It was all Amplisa could do not to wince. "Amplisa! Why did you let him do that! I specifically left orders for you to—"
"With all due respect, Nabooru," Amplisa interrupted, "I obeyed your orders as well as I could, but he is King, and he had his own set of orders. We rode with him as far as his lost door and then he left us."
"That idiot!" Nabooru snarled, slamming her fist down on the table. "How could he … after everything that's happened he just …" She ran out of half-sentences and settled for expressing her frustration through hitting the table again. "This is no good. We have to go after him."
"Already done," Amplisa said. "I sent two Elite on their way to Castletown. The rest of us are just waiting for the order."
"No good," Nabooru said. "They'll never make it there in time. When did he leave?"
"Yesterday morning. After you left."
"Goddess," Nabooru snarled, "it's probably already too late. Amplisa, assemble the Elite. Bring them here."
"Nabooru, what—"
"Neesha's been taken," Nabooru interrupted. "There's no point denying it. The King was with her, but we don't know his fate yet. In the meantime there's an army of first-generation Moblins heading straight for us. They'll need to regroup, but we only have maybe a day, tops to get some kind of a plan together, now move." Amplisa's eyes grew wide and she turned without another word, bolting out the door and screaming for the rest of the Elite.
Nabooru narrowed her eyes out the window as the sun sank below the horizon and tried to ignore the feeling that everything was spiralling out of control.
She would send half of the Elite to gather at the abandoned Ranch and await further instruction there. Reason had to prevail over passion or there'd be Hell to pay. They were already courting open war with the Hylians by even getting that close and the last thing she wanted was to start another Great War.
But if they had Link …
The Hylians be damned she not leave her King in the den of his enemies. The Gerudo wouldn't let her even if she wanted to. The capture of Gerudo King was nothing something you tolerated.
If they had Link … then it was they who had declared war, not the Gerudo. They would be justified if they had to attack.
But it would divide Hyrule in two again … after everything they'd done to unite it …
She shook her head and started to pace.
It wouldn't come to that. She wouldn't let it come to that.
She had to gather the Sages. Impa would be able to get a handle on the situation in Castletown quickly enough. She probably already knew. Neesha was taken, sent to the Dark World if the old man was worth his salt, and the portals had been opened. Never mind a war with the Hylians, they would be having enough trouble just keeping the Moblins from overrunning them all.
And they had to know what had happened to Link. Whether he was captured, hiding, hurt, or worse. If he was …
If he was …
"Dammit, kid," Nabooru snarled, punching the wall beside the window. "You'd better be all right."
xxx
Anduriel clutched Kiki tightly in her arms and urged him silently to be still. The Beast still stalked back and forth within the cave, growling and snarling. It could sense them, she knew. Could sense, but couldn't see. It would give up soon enough. A creature like that could not go long without violence. Without destruction. Unable to locate them it would leave and seek new prey.
But her power wouldn't last long, either, and using it drained her. She had to outlast the Beast. At all costs she must outlast the Beast. Link still didn't know … she hadn't had the chance to fully explain …
At last the Beast gave one last, furious snort, and turned away, running out of the little cave, claws clattering angrily on the stone floor. Anduriel waited for another moment before letting her spell drop and sagging against the wall.
"Poor Beast sir," Kiki murmured. "Ki, ki. Is you being all right?"
"I'm fine, Kiki," Anduriel responded as Kiki climbed out of her arms and up onto her shoulder, wrapping his long tail around her neck for balance. "Just a little weak. We need to follow it." Kiki's eyes went wide.
"You is wanting to follow the Beast sir!" He demanded in a high-pitched squeak. "Pale one! Beast sir is wanting to eats us! This is not being a good idea."
"We have no choice, Kiki," Anduriel said, pushing herself off the wall and moving towards the pile of weapons lying on the floor.
"Oh … ki, ki, ki," Kiki muttered with a frightened tone.
"Kiki," Anduriel said gently as she began to distribute the Hero's weapons on her back. Kiki jumped to a nearby ledge to be out of her way. "Do you remember Hyrule?" Kiki made a sad face.
"Only a bits," he said. "Ki, only a bits."
"Do you remember this place before Ganon came?"
"Yes," Kiki said with a wistful sigh, "that I remembers."
"Well," Anduriel said, reverently picking up the Master Sword and adding it to her load, "then you know why we have to go after the Beast. You and I, Kiki, aren't strong enough to save the Sacred Realm. We aren't strong enough to save Hyrule. Not by ourselves. I don't even know if the Hero of Time is strong enough to save it. But we are strong enough to help him. And that's a start." Kiki quavered and Anduriel fixed him with a sympathetic, but unbending look. "Be strong, Kiki. Prove to me the Dark World is wrong about you. Prove to me that this form is just an illusion. Show me who you were before Ganon." Kiki whimpered helplessly and allowed himself to be picked up and once again deposited on Anduriel's shoulder.
"Kiki was a coward long befores Ganon," he muttered bitterly. "We is going to be eatens."
Anduriel said nothing, but patted his head reassuringly and headed out of the cave, searching for the Beast's tracks and praying he wouldn't stray beyond her territory before the night ended.
She had told Link that the Dark World perverts.
She hadn't lied.
Somewhere beyond her sight, the Hero of Time howled his rage to the night.
And the hunt began.