I apologize for this chapter taking so long. Real life stacking up, and considering current events, I even wondered if it was proper to be posting this kind of story with the kind of things happening in the world right now. But the world wars were what gave birth to fictional heroes like Superman and Captain America, so maybe in bad times we need the escapism all the more. So I don't intend to stop, and don't intend to take so long again for the next chapter. Sorry again.
Chapter 12: The Numbers Game
Somewhere in imperial lands west of the capital, a few hours before dawn, a small group of travelers were in a disagreement over what to do with their charge. Their small campfire, just over a small hill from the road, was the only light on them as they argued.
The subject of their argument was the woman lying on her side on the ground, her hands and feet bound behind her, with visibly swollen, pregnant stomach about three months in. But she was unmoving, her throat cut and her blood pooling on the ground in front of her.
"The date's come and gone," one of the other figures was saying, "She's useless now and was slowing us down."
"If we show up empty handed, it'll be far worse than being late," said another, "There were no other survivors from that farmstead, so pursuit will be slow. But now we've got nothing thanks to you."
"Yes, we'll show up with a sacrifice for a ritual that's already finished," said the first, "I'm sure that'll go well. It's already over. Better to be done with it. Just leave the body here and the scavengers will take care of it."
"And leave an obvious trail?" said a third, "You damn farmers don't know anything about kidnapping, We leave her here, this far from her home, it'll be like painting an arrow at where we're going. We can't leave just her here now. We need to either burn or bury the body."
"Burning will be too obvious," the second said, "Once the sun's up, the smoke will be visible for miles."
"And what if we are being followed already?" said the first, "I told you, I saw the shadow following. It's getting closer each day."
"You're just paranoid," said the third, "Or superstitious. Nothing is following us."
To bad he could no be more wrong. The three men were oblivious to the figure slipping silently around the edge of the firelight. They all sat too close, leaving themselves nightblind. A boot stepped down near the face of the body, making almost no sound. The hood of his cloak was up, hiding his face in the shadow of the night, and he paused only a moment to look down at the body, noting her dead, empty eyes.
Then he stepped past her, into the light, and one of the men, facing toward him already, looked up and warned the others, all three going for their weapons. Too bad it was already too late for them.
By the time they realize he was there, he was upon them. The first looked up, crying out. The second turned, reaching for a sword at his hip, but didn't get to draw it. The cloaked figure grabbed his head with both hands and twisted it. There was an audible crack as the skin of his neck ripped, his head twisting almost a full rotation, then fell to the ground limp.
"Holy crap!" the third of the group said as the first rushed past him, sword drawn and swinging the chipped edge toward the newcomer.
And his eyes went wide in shock as the figure simply reached up and caught the blade in one hand.
"There's no way..." he whispered, looking at the hand now holding the blade. Some kind of armored gauntlet? No, the newcomer's hand was bare, and he could see the blade cutting over and inch into the hand, down into the wrist. But there was no blood, and it hadn't felt like the blade had hit bone.
He looked back to the cloaked figure's face, and in the flickering firelight, for one instant, he saw what lay within, and the giant red eye fixed on him. Then faster than he could react, the cloaked figure's other hand came up and struck him in the center of the face with the heel of his hand. He cried out as blood spilled down his face, his nose crushed in one blow.
He then fell back on the ground, hands going to his face as he screamed in agony, and the cloaked figure turned on the third. Seeing no other option, the third drew his blade and aimed for the head. The cloaked figure moved to the side, dodging this swing, his hood falling back and revealing his face in the firelight.
The third felt as though his heart stopped at the sight. His attacker's face was marked. A burn scar covered nearly the entire left side of his face, and in the scar tissue was an enormous red eye, nearly twice the size of his other eye, all crowned with snow white hair, now splashed with the blood of his victims.
Zero was his name, and he was not human. A product of the bleakest necromancy, stealing not just innocent flesh, but a part of a living man's very soul. He was near-invulnerable to physical harm and felt no fear or weariness. And as those who had crossed his path in the past had learned, he showed no mercy.
Only now did he pull the sword from his hand. No blood and no pain came from him. He dropped the blade to the ground, stepping toward the last man standing. The man's attack was nothing but desperation now, and Zero easily moved in past the swinging blade and with a single strike toppled the man, a blow to his head rendering him unconscious. He fell to the ground with a heavy thump.
Zero turned from him to the other that still lived, or had. The crushed nose seemed to not simply be broken as Zero looked down at his now unmoving form. Looking closer he confirmed it. He'd pushed the man's nose backwards into his skull and now had already bled out.
Well, at least one was still alive. Zero leaned down, grabbing the unconscious man's belt and lifting him from the ground as easily as one would a child. He then carried him to the body back toward the dead woman. Zero leaned down, turning her head with his free hand. No, she wasn't the one he was looking for.
In that case, the one still living would have to tell him where they had been headed. Fortunately, there was an effective tool nearby.
He was efficient, and soon was ready. But the unconscious man did not wake for several hours, and as he did, he came to a startling realization.
The first rays of the sun hit his eyes and he slowly opened them, feeling the splitting pain in his head from where the attacker had struck him. He lifted one hand to his head, or rather, tried to. His arm wasn't moving. It wasn't in pain, and he could feel it, but an immovable pressure held it fast. The same with his other arm.
"The hell?" he said, looking down, only for his chin to hit the dirt.
He was buried up to his neck in the earth.
"What the hell?!" he said louder, and strained with all his might, attempting to break free, but made no progress. The earth was packed tight around him.
"Awake at last," Zero said, walking around in front of him, looking down at him.
The man gasped at the huge red eye looking down from under the hood.
"What are you?" he demanded.
"You really shouldn't waste time with questions like that," Zero said, and pointed ahead, "See that over there?"
It was straight ahead of the buried man. A seemingly innocuous mound in the earth, quite visible in the early morning light, about six inches tall.
"That mound is a nest," Zero said, "The occupants are a colony of Imperial Fire Ants. Named Imperials after the fact they are native to the Empire of Riastad's lands. According to the studies conducted by entomologists of the nation, they are called fire because their sting is just as painful as your flesh being set aflame. At night, they return to the nest to escape the cool, and each morning they emerge to hunt for food for the colony, hungry and aggressive."
"Morning?" the buried man said, trying to look up to see the sun. The first rays were just falling over the hills, the sun itself barely peeking over the east horizon.
"So you've got minutes at most to decide," Zero said, "Tell me where you were taking the woman or I will leave you here, buried and helpless for the ants."
This man was not the farmer. He had been the third speaker of the argument, and was a former highwayman. He never really believed what that masked preacher had said, about the coming of a new god, a true god, to carry the faithful to paradise. He'd merely seen a way to be sanctioned, to an extent, for his knowledge of robbery and ransom. And in this moment, he had no loyalty to the cult.
"Okay, okay," he said, "It's an old might in Hyrule, north of the capital about six miles. You go into the tunnel, past the seventeenth vertical supports, and the right hand wall there is fake. It's an illusion, made by a magician, you can just walk right through it. That's where we were going with her. Now get me out of here."
"You gave that up quickly," Zero said, "How do I know you're not lying?"
"Look, I'm a two-bit thief!" the buried man said, "I'm only in this for the money! Never had any belief of this talk about a god or anything of the sort!"
"A god?" Zero repeated. That was new to him. Not surprising, given they were a cult, but still he had to ask, "What god?"
"I don't remember the name," the thief said, "Some kind of shadow. Kind of looked like a pig. Had the snout and the tusks on the statue. They said it was coming to save the faithful and punish the wicked. Usual religious crock, I thought."
"A pig..." Zero said, thinking, "Could it be Ganon? Has he returned after all these years? Starting a cult isn't really his style, but maybe that's the point..."
The thief looked at him, absorbed in thought, and looked over at the mound in panic. A small black shape appeared from the top, slowly moving down the side of the mound. Then another, and another, and then ten more, slowly spreading out in all directions from the mound.
"Come on, get me out of here!" he said, looking back at red eye.
"One more question," Zero said, looking back down at him, "What are the women for?"
"It's not the women they're after," the thief said, "It's the unborn children! Said they're needed for some kind of ritual to summon the herald."
Zero was no fool. He'd studied history and magic over the years. That was necromancy. It was extremely rare to see someone actually practice it. But if such innocent flesh was needed for the ritual, either the necromancer was a true sadist or something else was happening. What could it be?
"So you were in it just for the money, but were willing going along with the plan," Zero said, "A plan that involved the destruction of innocent lives. Of course, it would be hypocritical of me to judge you for that. I don't care about them. So I'm not going to kill you."
The thief breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay. Now get me out of here..."
"I'm also not going to save you," Zero said, "I'm going to leave and let you try to escape. If you manage it, tell your boss I'm coming for him. And I'll kill every last one of his followers and make sure he dies slowly if the girl I'm looking for is dead.
"If you don't, it doesn't matter," he added with a shrug, "He'll still find out eventually."
"Wait!" the thief said as Zero stepped away, behind him and out of his sight, "You can't do this! You said you'd let me live!"
"And so I have," Zero said, his footsteps moving further away, "The rest is up to you."
The thief looked back to the anthill, terror overtaking him as he saw the black ants coming out in greater and greater numbers, and moving out, searching for their first meal of the day. And the line of them that was coming toward him.
He knew about these ants. In large enough numbers, they could take now a live bull. With the strength born of terror and desperation, he pushed up, struggling to break free of the tightly packed earth that held him.
To no avail. The greatest of his struggles provided only the slightest shift of the earth. He pushed harder, grinding his teeth, feeling the pain screaming down his arms and legs as he pushed with all the desperation to survive.
The ants were coming closer. Each was about the size of his thumbs, shiny black in color, and moving relentlessly forward. In desperate denial, he smashed his chin down, crushing the first that came close to him, and then did it again and again. But there was no fighting a swarm like this.
He felt the pain of the sting on his neck, a searing pain that started like a needle and then spread, like sticking one's hand into an open flame. Then another and another. And he screamed. He screamed as the ants began to climb up his neck and into his hair, more and more stings burning his flesh. He could still feel their legs, like tiny needles, climbing over his burning flesh.
The ants had found their meal. It would feed many new brood for the colony.
The queen had decided to depart before dawn to try to avoid raising a stir with the populace. Her carriage now followed the road that led northwest and would then snake its way east through the mountains north of Kakariko village. Her destination was the Ravenholt Barony on the other side of the mountains to meet with Emperor Maximilian when he arrived in a few days.
She had considered not taking the carriage and instead riding herself, like the company of knights both ahead and behind on the road, but it was a matter of appearances, like the fact she now wore one of her gowns for public appearances rather than more comfortable clothing or even her armor. The armor was packed into a trunk in the luggage compartment of the carriage, but her sword was on the floor by her feet, within easy reach.
The queen was not the conventional lady of court many might expect. There was a time she was, but then the Twilight Invasion happened, and her inexperience as a ruler, and fear for her people, had nearly cost the kingdom everything. In the years that followed, she'd had to make a journey across the ocean to the west, to the continent of Mystara. There, she was drawn into a war that decimated the five kingdoms and left it a bleak wasteland. While she had brought back all the survivors she could to Hyrule, only a few hundred had been able to be saved, compared to the millions that had died.
During this journey, she had been in the company of Link, the one responsible for almost single-handedly defeating the Twilight Invasion, and she would learn much from him on that journey. From simply how weak she was when her feet were bleeding by the end of the first day of walking, to how little she truly knew of the world outside the capital.
It wasn't just the exertion of the journey that toughened her up, either. Link had taught her to fight with a sword, and the training had put real muscle on her for the first time in her life. Living through the war, she also grew as a person, gaining the experience and the confidence so that when she returned to Hyrule, she could finally be the queen she should have always been.
So it was not fear or worry she felt at the idea of meeting the already infamous Emperor of Riastad, but more curiosity, to see if the man lived up to the growing legend. After all, if her math was correct, the man would only be twenty-three years old right now. Barely more than a boy compared to a woman in her fifties like herself. And then if he was going to be dangerous, what possible routes she could take to mitigate that.
Her methods for such matter were growing by the year.
As if on cue, the carriage door opened without the carriage stopping, and in an instant one of her ninja entered gracefully, closing the door behind himself, and fell to one knee in the limited space he had to do so.
"Report?" Zelda asked.
The ninja looked up. Though his hood and mask were up, she could see his eyes. Not one of the dark elves, but a Hylian, indicated by his paler skin.
"The information from the interrogated prisoners led us to the meeting point they were supposed to go following the ritual in the clearing," he said, "It was an old hunting cabin near the southern forest. Unfortunately it had already been cleared out, and many trails leading different directions. Hunting parties have already been dispatched after each, but it will be some time before we hear back."
"So they scattered," Zelda said, "I expected that, but hoped we'd be in time."
"Master Vargus also requested you contact him when you have the time," the ninja said.
"Very well, one moment," she said.
She lifted one hand to her ear, where the special earring waited, and gave it the gentle touch to activate it. "Vargus," she said.
The answer came immediately. "How can I help, your majesty?" his voice directly in her ear said.
"Your scout just informed me of what was found," she said, "I assume you already know?"
"Indeed," Vargus said, "I only learned of it a few moments ago myself. I do have something found after he was sent to you. A letter, in a manner of speaking."
"A letter?" Zelda asked.
"Insane scrawling, mostly," Vargus said, "Repeating what the prisoners said, about the true god coming to wipe away the faithless and those that follow the false gold idols. Nothing useful. But I thought you'd like to know, there's a direct threat here. That if we attempt to interfere with their movements, they'll kill more people. Threats to start going after entire villages instead of isolated farms."
"They've already killed innocent people," Zelda said, "They seek to weaken my resolve, but every life they take only galvanizes my belief they will have to be eradicated. By sword if necessary."
"And one more bit here," Vargus said, "If we want to see the princess alive, we are to open the gates of the capital and surrender to them at once."
Zelda almost didn't believe it, it was so absurd a demand. She had only a garbled message from Link saying her daughter was even alive now, and that was days old. As much as she wanted to hope, she had to be realistic. And she had to take the same stance for her own family that she took for others.
"We do not negotiate with men that will use innocent lives as leverage," Zelda said.
"I knew you'd say that," Vargus said, "So I've made the arrangements. All I need is your formal permission to activate the Yiga Clan."
The ninja were few in number when they first came to Hyrule, and the dark elves as a species were doomed. There had been no women among them, and even if there had been, there would have been too few to sustain a species while avoiding inbreeding. But by recruiting Hylians and Zora to their number, they had grown to the point they began to split the ninja forces into the different clans, each dedicated to particular training and skills. New recruits were now determined which skills were their greatest strengths and assigned to the matching clan for more dedicated training from the true masters. Two of these clans were the Steel Clan, which made up the personal bodyguard of the royal family, and the Wind Clan, which were the long range field scouts, experts at moving unnoticed in the natural world.
The Yiga Clan was the smallest clan, and its members were those that excelled at infiltration and assassination. They were not scouts or spies, but were selected by those whose greatest strengths involved killing in silence and vanishing without a trace. Whether using poison or blade, they were the best at what they did, which was a singular mission: Search and destroy.
They were kept inactive, as their skills were only truly needed during wartime, and only the queen's word could give permission to deploy them, exception only in emergency circumstances that left her unable to give that permission. Well, these white-masked sociopaths had brought a war, and it was one Zelda intended to win.
"Permission is given," she said, "Find their holes and root them out. One condition: When they find the leader, the short one, I want his corpse. I want to see that he is dead with my own eyes."
"Understood, your majesty," Vargus said, "I'll keep you informed of our progress."
"We're making good time," Bannon said as he and the Princess Zelda walked the animal trail through the jungle, "I think we'll be in safe grounds before sundown."
It had only been a few days, but Princess Zelda already found the walks easier. Her legs and feet no longer screamed in pain after just a few hours, and she could keep going for some time yet. It had been a change she was almost unaware of at first, until the day she noticed she had been walking until mid-afternoon before realizing it.
Bannon has pushed her, even when her legs had been screaming their protests to her, yet had always stopped before she actually collapsed. His pace had also quickened each day, but he never moved too quickly for her to keep up. And now the sun was sinking down below the trees, yet she felt she could go on for hours yet.
It was the easier part of life in the castle finally falling away as she adjusted. She had wondered why her mother, the queen, spent at least an hour, usually two or more, in the training yard each day smacking the training dummies with a blunted sword. The answer she'd received when she asked was to prevent herself from becoming weak once again.
Now Zelda had to admit, even as small a thing as this progress was, she felt proud of herself, and it felt good. And was a distraction from the nightly terrors she endured in her sleep. Bannon asked her nothing of it, and she said nothing. She still wasn't certain she wanted to understand why she kept having the same dream, but it continued to hound her thoughts.
"Narak patrols in this area might be part of Hoots' group," Bannon said, "Less likely to try to kill us on sight, at least."
"This Hoots, you've mentioned him before," Zelda said, "Why is he named that?"
Bannon shrugged. "Never asked him. If I had to guess, he probably used an owl hoot to signal other hunters when he was younger. Narak pick names off things like that."
"That seems so strange," Zelda said.
"Yes, well, they likely think civilizations that build stone walls and root themselves in one spot to be quite strange," Bannon said.
"So why would his tribe be more friendly than the other Narak?" Zelda asked.
"Because he owes his life to a couple of people from the north," Bannon said, "Either Imperials or maybe even Hyruleans. Ask him the details if you want, but what I know is he's a bit more open-minded when dealing with northerners.
"Oh, a fair warning, though," he added, looking over his shoulder at her, "If they offer you meat, make sure you only take the smaller pieces, avoid the long strips."
"Why?" Zelda asked.
"Because the Narak are all cannibals, and trust me, you don't want to know more than that."
That thought sent a chill down her spine. That there might be food offered with human meat among it… No, she didn't want to think about it.
And she was startled from the thought when she nearly walked into Bannon's back.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"We're not alone..." he said, his voice low.
Zelda strained her ears, listening for sounds out of the ordinary in the jungle she was become accustomed to. He was right. The birds had fallen silent, but she could hear nothing moving nearby. Yet now that she thought about it, there was something out there.
It wasn't like an animal or a person. An invisible feeling sending chills across her skin. Something she could only describe as truly unholy.
Movement in the corner of her eye. She turned and gasped. A lone figure was visible through the trees. Clad in loose-fitting robes, but hanging over a clearly masculine frame, and his face concealed behind that cursed white mask.
"There..." she started, touching Bannon's arm.
"I see him," Bannon said, "Stay behind me, no matter what happens."
Zelda moved to place Bannon between herself and the masked figure. As she did, the masked figure leaned down, and what happened next defied all Zelda thought she knew of the world. He placed his hands on a fallen tree, about a foot in diameter, and then lifted it from the ground. She could hear the snapping of vines and the creaking of the old, splintering wood, and then saw it, nearly ten feet in length, held above the figure's head.
And he threw it like a spear. The entire tree trunk hurtled toward them at high speed. Bannon put his arm back and pushed Zelda aside as the massive object flew past them to crash into the earth a dozen or so feet behind them.
"Good gods..." Zelda whispered.
What kind of monster was this? She looked back toward the masked figure.
"The other one said she was going to kill me," she said in realization, remembering that night several days ago, "He must be here to finish it."
"You're not dying today," Bannon said, then chuckled, "I wouldn't have gone to all this effort if I was going to let you die now."
"You-" Zelda started, only to cry out as the figure leaped toward them.
He crossed the distance in a single bound, so effortlessly and fast, one hand outstretched. Bannon reacted as quickly, snatching the wrist of the outstretched arm with one hand, and a second later bringing his other fist straight into the masked face. Zelda heard the crack, the wooden mask splintering under the impact.
The blow carried through, the man's momentum turning the punch into a clothesline, his feet flying forward out from underneath him, then a second later he was past them, Zelda turning to see him rolling across the ground, bouncing several times with his momentum.
Bannon stepped around her, once again putting her behind himself. "He felt that one," he said.
But from the form on the ground came only a chuckle that then turned into a laugh. He sat up and Zelda flinched at the sight of the splintered mask, pieces digging into his face, but then he simply reached both hands to his face and pulled the mask, the largest pieces coming away, then he brushed a few times, the other splinters falling from his skin.
But he was left unharmed. She could see no blood or other markings on his face as he grinned.
"I didn't feel a thing," he said through that grin.
"Another one of you freaks," Bannon said with a sigh.
Zelda's first thought was the woman who looked like her, and the way she had pulled the knife from her own chest with no blood or visible wound left behind. What were these monsters?
"If I'm a freak, what exactly does that make you?" the man asked as he rose slowly to his feet.
He pulled off his hood, dropping the white robe to the ground, revealing his clothing beneath to be a simple suit of leather armor with no visible symbols or crests. Other than the mask and robe, he had no symbols of allegiance.
Then with a melodramatic flair, he twirled one hand and then pointed straight at Bannon and declared in an accusatory tone, "Ganondorf!"
Silence fell over the area as the man grinned as if in triumph. There was a rustle of the wind in the trees.
"Sorry, was that supposed to be the dramatic reveal?" Bannon asked, "I don't think it landed."
"Wait, like the legend?" Zelda asked at last, looking at Bannon.
"Hear that?" Bannon said, "That name means nothing to her either."
The man shrugged. "Call yourself whatever you want, but I know you," he said, "After all, killing you is what I've been preparing for years to do."
"That right?" Bannon asked, "So you might know my name, but I don't know yours."
"To tell the truth, I gave mine up as well," he said, "But I think I'll keep with what my master calls me for now. You can call me Four."
"Four?" Zelda said, "But that's..."
"Stupid," Bannon finished, "He's fourth in line of a series of experiments. He's just as disposable as the ones before him as well. Otherwise he'd play this smarter and not run into the lion's mouth dick-first."
"That's where you're wrong!" Four said, his grin seeming to grow even larger, "Like I said, I've spent years readying just to kill you, Ganondorf Dragmire. I do not fear you because I have no cause to. Let me show you!"
Zelda didn't have time to wonder what Bannon meant by the fourth in a line of experiments, as Four leaped toward them. He covered the distance in a single bound, coming down on Bannon with a clenched fist and hard swing, only for Bannon to step aside. Zelda heard and felt the rush of wind off the incredible force behind that punch. No human could survive that kind of impact.
Bannon turned as he stepped, leaning his own fist into the motion, striking hard across the side of Four's head. There was a splatter as Four's head exploded in a shower of flesh-colored liquid.
"Gods..." she said, shocked at just how much strength Banon had, only to then gasp in horror as Four's body not only stayed on its feet, but the flying liquid suddenly reversed directions, all congealing back into place and returning form into his face, completely unharmed.
Bannon didn't hesitate, though, stepping in with another powerful punch. Four attempted to raise his arms to protect himself, only for the force of the blow to smash through them, turning them to flying slime and powering through, right into his face again. This blow sent Four backward, landing hard on his back nearly four feet away.
"Years just to kill me, huh?" Bannon said as the slimy pools of liquid crawled back across the ground toward Four, reshaping into his arms as they reached him, "Seems you wasted a lot of time there."
Four chuckled as he slowly rose to his feet again. "Let's wait on that until I actually feel one of those. But I suppose I can stop playing around if you're so eager."
Then in an instant, far faster than before, Four closed the distance between himself and Bannon, and they were face-to-face. Bannon's eyes went wide in surprise at the sheer speed while Four grinned wickedly. Then an instant later, they collided, Four's momentum sending them both flying hard through the air past Zelda, who turned to see them smash right through a tree and roll on the ground on the other side.
"What are you monsters?" Zelda whispered.
"Holy shit," Lance said as the group looked out between the trees, back toward the river, "I think we found one of those lionels that were screaming the other day."
"What's left of him," Damien said as Link stepped up beside the two of them.
The body lay in the river, half-eaten by its killer, with visible bones jutting from its back, and dead long enough now that the flies were gathering, and the group were mercifully far enough away they couldn't smell it yet.
"We were drinking from that water," Kilishandra said with a groan.
"Well, before the fight, if you remember," Link said, "And fortunately the kill is only a couple days old. About now is when I'd be worrying about it. And we're moving upriver anyway."
"You said you've taken down one of these before?" Damien asked, looking at Link and Kilishandra.
"More than one, but they were Hylian varieties," Link said, "Like I said, these spotted ones are a lot bigger, plus look at the feet. Lionels you see in Hyrule have hooves, so you can hear them coming. These have cat paws, and can actually sneak up on you."
"Out on the sands of the desert, even the hooves can move quietly if they want," Areil said.
"I can't imagine something that big moving quietly," Damien said.
"All the more reason to stay well clear of them," Link said, then looked upstream, "Anyway, a few more days and we should be in safe territory. I'm glad we've managed to avoid trouble so far."
Other than the bodies further downriver, they had seen no sign of Narek natives thus far, and they all hoped that would continue. They were making good time as well, as Link had commented they had covered more ground than he'd expected by now.
Lance wondered what it would take to bring a beast like this down, only for his thoughts to be interrupted as Kilishandra stepped up beside him and tapped his arm with one hand.
"To our right, upriver," she said in a low voice, "Don't look directly or they'll notice. Act like you're looking at your father."
Lance did turn his head, turning to where Link was standing, then searching out of the corner of his eye. And there it was, standing between the trees about twenty feet away. In a white mask with matching robes, making them stand out rather clearly among the greenery.
Link turned around toward him, causing Lance to glance back to him. Sure enough, Link's eyes were to the side, also watching the figure indirectly.
"Like I said before, we'd need a group, at least fifteen or twenty men to bring one of these beasts down, and there would be casualties," Link said, glancing at Damien, then one again turning his eyes to the white robed figure.
They weren't moving.
Damien seemed to get the hint, glancing that way himself and spotting the figure.
It was strange, because the figure was just standing there in the open, not even attempting to be hidden. Being dressed all in white made it even more seem that they wanted to be seen.
Then lance spotted a small movement in the trees above the figure. The thick leaves parted just slightly, and he saw the white hair of one of the twins in the branches above the figure. The other was no doubt close by.
In fact, both Lilith and Natalya both were in the trees above the masked figure, looking down from opposite sides. Natalya raised her hand, getting Lilith's attention. She tapped her own chest, then made a twisting motion with her wrist while clenching her fingers into a fist. The signal that she would take the kill.
Lilith waved a negative and pointed to her own mouth. They needed to question this person. Of course, Natalya realized, perhaps this one would know what had become of the princess. In that case, a non-lethal take-down was called for.
In the positions they were in, she could make the drop straight onto the target. A good knock of their head into the ground should do it, and a concussion would be gentle compared to what she'd intended for a lethal strike. So she signaled Lilith, indicating she would drop first, and Lilith was to jump in if it did not work. Lilith nodded.
And with that, Natalya dropped silently from the tree toward the masked figure below. She landed exactly as intended, grabbing her victim's head and planting both feet down hard on their shoulders. Down they went at the sudden impact of her weight, the masked figure falling forward, and she added an additional jerk forward of their head as they hit the ground, slamming it even harder against the ground.
"What the hell..." she said, feeling her victim's skull giving under the impact like clay.
"Get away from them!" Link's voice shouted, already realizing what was happening.
Natalya looked up, seeing the group moving toward her, Link in front with his sword drawn.
This distraction was all it took, as the masked figure on the ground turned in her grasp, one arm coming up and struck her across the head. The world spun for Natalya as she flew through the air from the impact and crashed into a nearby tree before falling to the ground.
The masked figure rose to one knee, looking toward the rest of the group as they slowed, Link raising one hand for the others to stay back as he lowed to a walk.
The mask had been smashed to splinters by the impact, and the face looking out from beneath the remains was not the one Link had expected from the other evidence.
"You're not Zero," he said.
It was a woman's face, and one he didn't know. She smiled and brushed the remains of the mask away as she rose to her feet. As if to make that more clear, she threw off the hood and white cloak, revealing a plain traveler's outfit beneath, with a snug fitting tunic and trousers and good boots, but no visible weapons.
"Zero is the past," she said in a low and sultry voice, "I'm new and improved. You can call me Three."
"Oh, gods, that means there's more of them," Kilishandra muttered, then put one hand in front of Lance as he moved to step past her, "No, just wait for now."
Lance looked over at her, then back at the woman. He wanted to get to Natalya, who was still lying still on the ground where she landed.
"One chance is all you get," Link said, raising his sword and pointing the pure white blade toward Three, "Tell me what your friends did with the princess or I'll kill you."
"If I were you, I'd be more worried about myself," Three said.
Like a shadow dropping from the tree, Lilith suddenly fell onto Three, but she did not aim for non-lethal, and with a long knife in each hand drove both into Three's back behind her shoulders.
But Link knew that would have no effect. Three did not even cry out, and merely pushed back, this time refusing to go down from the impact, and spun to the side, throwing Lilith off her. Lilith did not hit a tree, instead rolling as she landed, rising quickly on to one knee about ten feet away. Her knifes were still sticking from Three's back.
"No blood?" Damien said, moving up beside Lance and Kilishandra, his hand on his own sword.
"She's not human," Kilishandra said, "Link and I have encountered her kind before."
"What is she then?" Areil asked, moving up behind them.
Kilishandra didn't get a chance to answer, as with a gleeful cry, Three rushed at Link. She was so fast, crossing the distance between them near instantly, causing Lance to gasp in surprise, but then saw his father turn and step out of the charge. In one smooth motion, he kicked Three's ankles, causing her to hit the ground face-first and her sheer momentum caused her to bounce into the air, rising over their heads.
"Back!" Kilishandra pushed Lance away and quickly raised both hands up toward the flying figure of Three. "Daem!" she shouted, the word of magic echoing around them and with a rush of wind that sounded more like the growl of beast, Three's direction was reversed as she was blasted by the invisible wave of force and flew higher into the branches above.
That particular spell favored speed over power, however. Kilishandra and Link knew it was unlikely to have done much harm to a creature such as this.
The branches above them rattled as Three managed to catch hold of one, changing her directly. All eyes were up, trying not to lose her as she moved. Her laughter could be heard above them.
"Link, that didn't even faze her," Kilishandra said, craning her neck to try to keep sight of Three.
"I see it," Link said, "Much as we need information, I doubt we can take her alive. You protect the kids while I draw her out."
"Kids?" Damien said, looking toward him.
"You heard me," Link said, "Now you three go see about Lilith and Natalya."
"I said you should be more worried about yourself!" Three shouted, and leaped down from the trees, coming down at Link like a shot from above.
The white blade of Link's sword flashed, and a cry of pain came from Three as she just as quickly leaped back from him. She looked at her right hand, which had been aiming to grasp his throat, to see all four fingers, excluding her thumb, had been cut clean from her hand, and trails of smoke rose from the nubs, as well as from the fingers themselves on the ground, where the blade had touched her flesh.
"So boss man was right," Three said, looking back to Link, "That sword can hurt me."
"I found out a while back it's just a simple enchantment," Link said, "Light infused into the blade. It was made to kill a shadow creature called a Twili, specifically one named Cain. But it works on freaks like you, too."
"Freak?" Three said with a sneer, "I'll have you know you're looking at being superior to humanity. The dawn of the new dominant species!"
Link sighed. "Oh, wow," he said dryly, "I've never heard that one before."
"My big brother did ask me to save some of you for him, but I don' t think I want to now!" Three said, and suddenly moved toward him again.
She stepped in, Link brought his sword up, and then she stepped again, almost faster than the eye could track, around to his other side. Bringing her fist up, only to cry out again as she punched directly into the sword, the blade splitting a line down the middle of her left hand, and she leaped back again.
"How did you…?" she growled, looking at her hand, now split in two.
"You're fast," Link said, "But you're predictable. You'd be lucky if you fooled a squire with a feint like that."
Lance rushed over to where Lilith had gone to her sister's side. "Are you two all right?" he asked as the others came up behind him.
"I'm fine," Lilith said, "Natalya, can you hear me?"
Natalya nodded. "Figured I should play dead for a moment," she said, opening her eyes, "I don't think anything's broken."
"Looks like you hit your head," Lance said, gently pushing her hair out of the way to see the blood above her eyes."
"Not bad," Natalya said, sitting up and pushing his arm away, "More of a scrape, really."
"If you're okay, then we can..." Damien started as he turned back around.
"Stay right there," Kilishandra said, "This will be over in a moment."
Areil stepped back in surprise, closer to the others. Kilishandra had her back to them, facing the fight just about fifteen feet away from them. Sparks of electricity danced across her body, all moving toward her right hand, where they were coalescing into a visible globe of sparking energy.
"What magic is this?" Areil whispered.
"Link is holding his own, but at this rate it will take too long, he'll tire before he can cut this creature down," Kilishandra said, "I'm going to end it in one shot."
Meanwhile another clash resulted in yet more damage to Three, while Link remained untouched. Her left arm was hanging limply at her side, over a dozen different cuts in it, many large pieces hanging by nothing more than a scrap of her inhuman flesh.
"What's the matter?" Link asked, "I haven't done that much to you. Zero would of regenerated all that in seconds."
"You mock me?!" Already Three's smugness was falling apart, turning into a rage, "I'm going to kill you!"
"You've done a piss-poor job of it so far," Link said, pointing the tip of his sword at her, "So much for new and improved. You're disappointing in every regard. Can't believe I'm about to compliment Zero, but you are nothing compared to him. He is actually dangerous."
With an inarticulate scream, Three ran for him.
But all other eyes were fixed on Kilishandra at that time, as the ball of sparking energy in her right hand continued to grow. Now she closed her fingers on it, and it changed shape. Instantly becoming as a long white haft and shaping into the head of a war-hammer. It was ludicrously large, in the sense that if it were made of metal, no normal human could possibly lift it. Sparks of lightning jumped across its surface as she raised it out to her side.
"What is that?" Lance asked, never having seen a spell like this before.
"Something new I've been working on," Kilishandra said, "Lightning is powerful, but imprecise. Imagine now the power of a bolt of lightning concentrated in my hand. I call it the Hammer of Glory."
She put her left foot forward, taking a wide stance and turning her left side toward the fight, both hands coming to her right, gripping the haft of the hammer of lightning.
"Link, to me!" she shouted.
Without a second's hesitation, without even looking, Link turned the momentum of Three's latest charge at him against her, tripping her and bouncing her off the ground again, and she sailed into the air much as before.
She spun through the air, only just catching the sight of Kilishandra planting her feet and raising the hammer.
"Cover your ears!" Kilishandra shouted, and then swung the hammer.
The flat of the hammer connected with Three's torso, and then Three was gone. The sound was thunder like lightning had struck this very location, and a wave of force exploded from the point of contact. Even with their hands over their ears, the others all grit their teeth at the loudness of the blast, and the force nearly knocking them from their feet.
The hammer itself vanished, its energy spent in a single impact, but there were not even pieces of Three to rain down. She had been completely erased in a single shot.
"My damn ears," Areil groaned, the ringing barely letting her hear her own voice.
"That'll pass in a few minutes," Kilishandra said, taking deep breaths. While not the most powerful spell she could cast, it certainly took her energy to use it. She had certainly fallen out of practice over the past two decades.
"We might have been able to take her alive after all," Link said as he walked toward the others, returning his sword to its sheathe, "I think I vastly overestimated her."
"Better that than the other way," Kilishandra said.
"You okay?" Link asked, looking toward Natalya as she climbed to her feet.
"I'll live," she said.
"Well, there's still one question," Link said, turning back to Kilishandra, "Where's the big brother she mentioned?"
Nothing was sticking. For every blow Bannon dealt to Four, the creature just regenerated in seconds. And every so often, Four would slip a punch through, and Bannon felt it. Just now another punch connected with his chest and he was launched backward to crash into a tree, knocking the wind from him.
"Are you seeing it yet?" Four shouted triumphantly, "I'm stronger than you! Faster than you! I was made to kill you!"
Bannon smiled, and kicked a fallen log on the ground in front of himself. The force of the kick sent the log into the air. Four lunched at it, punching directly through the hollow log, smashing it in half in front of himself and straight at Bannon.
But Bannon was gone and Four's fist struck directly into the tree. Pulling his hand free of the shattered wood, Four looked around for where he had gone.
"What's the matter?" he shouted, "Decided to run now? You won't get far, I promise!"
Princess Zelda had been watching the fight, every traded blow and struggle, and had come to the same conclusion. As inhumanly strong as he was, Banon was going to lose. Now she hid behind a nearby tree, praying Four would go the other direction from her. She could still hear him shouting.
"Come on, you've lived for thousands of years! Must be getting boring now, right? What's left to live for? Aside from your misery, what do you have to lose?"
Zelda cautiously took a step, careful not to make a sound, to get away from this lunatic.
Her heart nearly stopped as a hand suddenly grabbed around her face, covering her mouth and pulling her back onto the ground.
"I'll make it quick, I promise! Come back out! You must know you can't beat me by now!"
Zelda's heart was racing, but she did feel relieved it was Bannon that grabbed her, not Four.
"Gods, the ego on this one," Bannon whispered, "But he's right, I can't win. Not like this."
Zelda wanted to ask what he intended to do, but Bannon's hand over her mouth was still too tight for her to speak.
"It's okay, I'm still going to get you out of here," Bannon whispered to her, "I didn't expect you to have to see this side of me this soon, or this way."
What? What was he talking about, she wondered, and felt her heart thump harder as he pulled her back against his chest, close enough she could feel his icy breath on her neck.
"I need some of your blood," he whispered, "Not much. Just a mouthful."
What the hell? What was he…
Zelda's blood turned to ice as he undid the neck of her tunic, pulling it down over her left shoulder, exposing her skin to the air.
"This will only hurt for a second," he whispered.
She couldn't see what he was doing, but his head leaned down beside her, and she cried out into his hand, barely audible as his teeth pinched a piece of her skin painfully. Then she felt him sucking on her skin, and felt the pain as she knew he had bit a hole in her skin to get exactly what he had said.
As for Bannon, the taste of blood was like a shot of heat into his icy body. The warmth spreading rapidly as he swallowed it, and then he felt his long dead heart begin to beat again.
As he pulled his head back, he took a cloth from his pocket, putting it on Zelda's shoulder. "Hold this here," he said, his breath on her neck having turned from icy to hot, "I'll be back in just a moment."
He released his grip on her and stood up, stepping back out toward the still shouting Four.
Zelda cautiously lifted the cloth from her shoulder, looking at the bite. It was a single red hole in her skin, like he'd just pinched the skin between his front teeth and tore it off. She pushed the cloth back down, cautiously standing up and looking around the tree. She gasped at the change in Bannon's appearance.
Like a great mane of a lion, long red hair now fell of his head, but it seemed to defy logic, rising and waving in the air despite there being no wind, and it seemed to glow with an unnatural light. A matching red beard wrapped across his face, and his eyes also seemed to have taken an unnatural glow as well.
"Found the last shred of your courage after…?" Four said, turning toward Bannon as he openly approached, only to trail off upon seeing the change himself. "What the hell?"
"You wanted Ganondorf," Bannon growled, and threw his arms wide, "You've got him. You now face the King of Darkness in the flesh."
Four smiled and let out a chuckle. "Doesn't matter how much hair you glue to your bald head, you're still no match for me!"
He rushed at Bannon, fist pulled back, and struck. It happened so fast, Zelda almost didn't see it. Bannon raised one hand and there was a flash of light. Four cried out in pain for the first time, staggering back. His right hand was gone, his arm shaking as he stared at the stump, and it wasn't growing back.
"What the hell?!" Four shouted.
With a wordless roar, Bannon struck Four with his right hand, fingers open and crooked into claws. There was another flash of light on the impact. Four screamed again, falling back onto the ground. Zelda's eyes went wide. Four's entire left shoulder and arm were gone.
Four tried to move away, pushing back with his legs, his eyes fixed on the grinning monster's face before him.
"What's wrong?" Bannon shouted, following him with slow steps, "Weren't you going to kill me? Weren't you stronger than me? You're a newer model than Zero, right? So you should be stronger than him! Grow back your limbs! Get on your feet! Hit me! Fight me! What are you waiting for?!"
"Get away from me, you demon!" Four screamed, the terror in his voice clear. He shivered as he lay there on the ground, Bannon looking down at him.
Bannon's smile slowly faded. If Four were still capable of sweating, he would be drenched. But all he could do was shake, the icy fear that had come so suddenly covering him completely. A few seconds ago, he had been assured of his victory, and now he was in mortal fear for his life.
"I see," Bannon said, his voice much softer, but no less dangerous, "So that's how it is. Zero could not be controlled. So he made you weaker than him on purpose. And he lied to you about your own power. You were nothing more than a pawn, sent to test me, while he watched."
"I… I was just a tool?" Four said, his voice barely above a whisper, "But I gave up everything… I gave up my entire life to become this..."
"You're right," Bannon said, and lifted one hand, spreading his fingers wide, palm straight toward Four, whose eyes went wide in fear, "You have."
Another explosion of bright light came from Bannon's hand, and when it vanished, Four was gone. A black scorch mark on the ground was all that remained. A few seconds later, the glowing red hair faded from Bannon, and in a moment, he was the same bald and shaven main Zelda had first met a few days ago.
"You can come out now," Bannon said, "We're safe."
Zelda slowly stepped out from behind the tree. Every instinct she had was telling her to run. But logic told her she wouldn't survive if she did.
"You're him," she said, "You're really the King of Darkness from the legend."
Bannon nodded. "I am," he said.
"You're a demon after all..." she said.
Bannon shook his head and turned, looking back down toward the scorch mark on the ground.
"No," he said softly, "I'm something else."