Chapter 35
Malon pushed aside the bush as she crouched on the crest of a hill, her heart feeling a tremor as the sight of the Gate revealed itself far below. Her eyes remained fixed on the ancient portal, ignoring the fiery climate that would have irritated her at any other time. Bizarre sounds wafted up from the undergrowth beneath, revealing the presence of strange creatures that, somewhere at the back of her mind, she might have wished to have studied further. But now her mind and vision remained focus on the Gate itself, a tall wooden structure, blackened by age and rot, held in place by pillars of grey rock. A platform covered the top of the Gate, wide enough so that four people could stand there. At the centre of the platform, a small hole waited. The opening was the point where the Key's blood was to be released. The Gate was, she thought, almost unremarkable. She had expected something a lot more grandiose, but it appeared to be no more than a silent sentinel, carved into the rock with the most basic of construction, watching the jungle impassively.
She sensed something in the air, a faint, metallic taste of power that radiated off of the Gate and resonated deep within her soul. It frightened her. Nothing else seemed to be disturbed by the wooden portal though, as thick vines grew up around it, and the red, leathery birds native to the island perched on top of it with lazy crouches. Her melancholy returned, heavier now, as she realised that at the end of this day her task would be done and Death would embrace her once more. She struggled to still her mind as it protested against the injustice of it all. She would play her part and exit. There was nothing else for her to do.
Malon heard a jingle, like the sound of a maiden wearing too many bangles lifting her arm, and saw the glowing shape of Navi appear at the corner of her vision. Lorfor was not far behind her, his face fighting to wear a smile, despite Malon knowing of the despair he tried to keep buried down because of the loss of his friend. They had left her Helpers, monks dedicated to her service, which still made her feel somewhat awkward, back on their ship.
"Where's Link? Where's Link?" Navi asked, her light voice fluttering with excitement.
Malon felt her heart churn at the mention of his name. "He'll be here soon enough," she said calmly. "Though he doesn't know he's coming yet." She smiled, letting her cryptic words float in the air, but the little faerie did not press her any further. Which was all well and good, because Malon did not honestly expect any of them to meet the Hero of Time.
Lorfor fell to his knees besides her, breathing heavily with a reddened face. "This is a far cry from Lon Lon," he said, trying to smile.
She nodded with a gentle laugh. "It is quite hot, isn't it?"
"Hot?" he answered, his voice incredulous. "Dear, the Pit itself would not blaze as fiercely as this place!"
Malon grinned, as the Gate caught her attention again.
"Is this it?" Lorfor continued, his soft voice catching with awe. "Is this the Gate?"
The Counter Key sighed, her smile melting into a tight line. "It is."
She was grateful for his presence. He had managed to ease her loneliness somewhat, had managed to keep her mind focused when, otherwise, it may have turned inward and begun to brood. He had carried her supplies without complaint, despite the fact the climate clearly did not agree with him. Still. She no longer needed him now. All that was left was to await the Key.
Malon turned to the old man. "Thank you," she said.
He looked back at her, his face betraying the fact that he realised the implication beneath her words. "This is the burden of being so old," he said with a sigh. "I get to watch all my friends depart."
She could offer him no response to that. She wished that she could take away the burdens of his pain, and she realised that, despite her supposed great power, she was of little use in fixing something as simple as this. The vegetation near the Gate swayed, catching her eye.
"What do we do now?" Lorfor asked.
"We wait," Malon replied grimly as Cyle and his men appeared from the undergrowth. "The Key will be here soon. Everything is falling into place."
*
"Magnificent, Vance," Cyle said, looking up at the Gate. "Don't you think so?"
He glanced over at his Advisor. The sorcerer was trembling, despite the heat and his face was paler than usual, an untypical expression of humility etched therein. Vance placed one hand on the Gate, swallowing as he closed his eyes. Somehow Cyle found the action irritating. His Advisor needed to remember who exactly was to be Joined here.
"Indeed, Sire," Vance croaked. "Truly magnificent."
Cyle looked around at the others. His men had their swords again and had regained a measure of their swagger. The Islanders watched him in silence, their powerful arms folded across their chest. He watched them as his mouth curled in contempt. Time to reward them for their stupidity.
"Vance," he called, his voice ringing out in a strong tone. "End this charade."
"As you wish," the Advisor replied, his own voice echoing the satisfaction the King felt within.
Cyle grinned as confused looks creased across the Islanders' faces. Chalance Vance raised his staff and, in an instant, the sky tore as a portal opened. The King wanted to laugh as the bewilderment the Islanders' shared turned to angry and hurt betrayal. Morolak soldiers fell through the opening, the sky spilling out warriors like a heavy and dark rain cloud letting loose torrents of water.
It was not long before the valley in front of the Gate was swarming with heavily armoured troops, their boots crushing the plants beneath and snapping through branches as some fell into uncomfortable spots in the jungle. Cyle's grin grew wider as he surveyed his new army, ready and waiting for his command. Grins and blades flashed back at him. There was not long for him to wait now, and his heart throbbed at the thought.
"What is the meaning of this?" the leader of the Islanders' called in protest. They huddled around one another, seething with rage, but also cautious with fear.
Before Cyle could reply, another voice, old and wizened, cut through the air. "Death and destruction. He brings death and destruction just as I told you."
The King spun around to face the newcomer, but almost slipped in shock as his eyes came to rest on the man's face.
"Gatekeeper," the large Islander murmured. "Forgive us."
The Gatekeeper approached, a tall, but thin man, clad in a tattered green tunic. His hair was dull and grey with age. His skin was withered, deep cracks lining it like dry riverbeds. And yet, Cyle recognised him. Or thought he did.
"Link?!"
The Gatekeeper fixed him with a humourless smile. "Not exactly," he said. "Not in the way you mean. I am the last of the Links. Sent back to guard this Gate as penance for my deeds."
Cyle blinked, not entirely understanding his words. "Last of the Links?" he asked, noticing that Vance was taking a keen interest in the newcomer.
"It matters not to you," the Gatekeeper replied, coughing between his words. "I am not who you think I am, despite my appearance. All that is important is that I have failed. You have brought yourself and your army here." He looked over at the Islanders, making them bow their heads in shame under his piercing stare. "And I was unable to prevent it."
"Indeed," Cyle growled, his confidence returning. He flicked his head at his warriors and they surrounded both the Gatekeeper and the Islanders with swords drawn. The old man that looked so much like Link gazed from side to side, his shoulders sagging with defeat. Both he and his Islander army were outnumbered and he knew it. Cyle reached for his sword. He may not be entirely sure about the nature of this man, but he knew there was a tiny glimmer of satisfaction he could draw from him.
Cyle strode up to the Gatekeeper, who held his gaze with crystal blue eyes.
"It seems," the old man said, as one lonely tear fell down his face. "That my sins were too much for me to gain redemption."
"Your sins include stealing my wife from me," the King spat, readying his blade into position.
"That was nothing to do with me, Cyle," the Gatekeeper replied, his voice eerily calm. Cyle found himself feeling irritated at the man's use of his first name. "But I do know that Zelda never truly loved you."
Cyle felt the anger spring up from within. "Liar!" he growled. "I do not know who you are. Perhaps you're a relative of Link's, or perhaps you had the misfortune to share in his features. But you know nothing about what went on between my wife and I."
The Gatekeeper stared back, one corner of his mouth curling. "Sometimes it takes a stranger to see something clearly that those closer may have missed," he said. His eyes grew hard. "You're nothing but a failure, Cyle Narawan."
The King of Hyrule swung his sword, striking the Gatekeeper through the neck. Cyle laughed as he watched Link's head fly, a trail of blood following it in the air. He heard the Islanders cry out and raised his hand dismissively. He did not even have to face them to hear the swords of his warriors strike them down.
Cyle almost doubled over in laughter. At long last, he had managed to slay the man he hated with such intense ferocity. His soul surged with cathartic glory. One corner of his mind reminded him that the Gatekeeper was not the real Link, but he dismissed it. It was a small victory, and, like a rolling Goron gathering moss, his triumphs could only grow from now.
"Vance…?"
He did not have to say anymore. The sorcerer raised his staff and Cyle saw an image flitter into view in the orb. An image of a Dragon.
"I will bring the Key to you, Sire," said Chalance Vance. "I will bring her now."
*
Zelda ran through the twisting corridors of the Temple of the Dead, the sloped and broken walls lined with torn portraits reminding her of a gloomy version of Hyrule Castle. Chizan, Tessa, the Freelander woman, Nadline and the Morolak man, Salin were all at her heels. She had been surprised at how quickly the duo had bonded. They had stayed with them for a day, resting, sharing stories and eating simple meals. The boy that the woman had injured had readily forgiven her, wanting to claim the action as a 'Heroic Deed', something that had irked his Morolak father greatly.
Zelda had not wanted the them to join her, Chizan and Tessa, but when Salin had mentioned that he knew a quicker path to the Temple they had had no choice but to accept. Even then, she did not want them to enter into the building, but they had stubbornly protested. When they had learned that she was wanting to slay a Dragon, they had been anxious to aid her, not wanting her to come to any harm after all she had done for them. Still, she did not want any harm to come to them either.
They had ably guided them to the Temple and now she was leading the party towards Link, letting his presence be a beacon telling her which paths to take. Chizan had muttered some suspicions about the nature of her knowledge, but had been distracted by the many creatures that had attacked them on their way in. Zelda had been amused, and slightly relieved too, to watch the Prince as he fought off any monsters that had dared to come too close to Tessa.
Slowing her pace, Zelda turned to face Salin. "Please," she said. "Promise you'll go back as soon as we find the Dragon. No more heroics." She gave Nadline a pointed glance as she said this.
Salin sighed. "At least let us wait and see what is to come," he said. "You don't know whether you may still need us."
"I agree," the Freelander woman added in a steely tone.
For one absurd moment, Zelda bitterly wished that she would finally meet with some cowards who would meekly do anything that she said. Dryly, she realised, that she had been married to one for over five summers. Perhaps he had not been a dutiful husband, but Cyle had certainly been a cowardly one.
Spinning to a stop, she opened her mouth to protest when phantom arms poured out of the walls and grabbed for Tessa. Instantly, they all moved with easy familiarity, their weapons poised for an attack.
It was the Prince who moved the quickest though. He skidded to a stop in front of the farmgirl, watching as her wide eyes pleaded with him for help. The phantoms had ghostly powers, but were still physical creatures that could be hurt and cut. Purple eyes smouldering with anger, Chizan cut at the creature with two quick strikes. With a shriek it let go, and Tessa fell forward from the momentum, straight into the Freelander's arms.
He wrapped her with his embrace and she peered up at him with frightened, but grateful eyes. He grinned.
"Thank you," she breathed. She smiled, an audacious twinkle in her eye. "That was wonderful swordplay."
Zelda wanted to laugh as she saw Tessa turn purple and Chizan's open mouthed, confused expression.
She jerked as a ripple of shock from Link hit her. Tessa and Chizan looked up at her, concern in their eyes.
"Your Highness…?" the farmgirl asked.
"It's Link," Zelda said, trying to focus and make sense of the emotions washing over her. "I think he's found the Dragon." She turned and began to run, not waiting for the others. "Let's go!"
*
The ground shook as the Dragon swung its head from side to side, leaving a trail of flame smouldering in the air. Like liquid tar in appearance, the serpent watched them with dark eyes, its tail, lined with glassy scales, curling around itself in anticipation. Link watched as the Dead cowered in one corner, Milledra's pale face reflecting the shock he himself felt. The Dragon's massive bulk engulfed the room, the heat radiating off of it assaulting them with the taste and scent of ash.
"We…we were meant to slay that?" Zayna gasped.
Link swallowed, gripping his sword more tightly, not knowing what to say. Something pricked at his consciousness, and his eyes found Zelda just as she ran through one of the doorways. She stopped short, her mouth hanging open, as Chizan, Tessa and two others that Link did not recognise collided into her. Tearing her sight away from the beast, she sought him out and they smiled, scared, but happy, as their eyes locked. They almost knocked each other back as they sent twin waves of reassurance to one another.
The Dragon shifted its position, its yellow talons gouging into what was left of the floor. Its eyes turned towards the huddled Dead and Link saw Milledra's face flick over to him for a moment, her expression pleading. There was a pause; the muscles in the Dragon's neck coiling with energy, before it snapped forward, biting one of the Dead clean in two, sending a fountain of blood spraying into the air.
The Morolaks scattered, screaming as they waved their swords uselessly. The Hero of Time felt a righteous ember of anger ignite in his heart and he chided himself for not acting more swiftly. In that instant, Link moved, sheathing his sword as confidence surged through him. His hookshot was ready and firing already. He felt the familiar sense of being tugged into the air, the dizzying heat tugging at the fear he pushed down within. The wind buffeted him with acidic ferocity.
With a roar, the Dragon lunged again, and, in one instant where the world seemed frozen in an orange haze, Link peered into the beast's maw, seeing the flames roaring within. The serpent's neck caught on the hookshot's chain, and Link spun, out of control, around and around the creature's throat, winding in closer and closer. Link grit his teeth, desperate to stay conscious as the world twirled and the heat battered his skull.
Hold onZelda's voice soothed him and he felt her reach for her bow and let loose a trio of arrows. He sensed that Zayna had caught up to her and was reaching for her own weapon too. There was a flicker of doubt in his wife's mind, in response to another presence, and he took it to mean that Milledra was with them as well.
The Dragon's scaly and cracked skin loomed larger and larger in his vision until he smacked straight into it. He clutched into the neck, slumping his head as he tried to regain his composure. Everything was still spinning and he felt almost nauseous. The beast had not stopped either, and Link shut his eyes tight, wishing for some stability, hoping that there would be no more motion to unsettle his mind.
Slowly he reached back for his sword, dimly aware that he had to kill the Dragon. Screams and shouts floated up from the ground, and the soot-filled smoke that pumped from the creature's mouth clung to the air. The Dragon lurched again and Link had to throw his arms around its neck, his stomach rising and head whirling, as it fluidly flicked downwards taking another shrieking Morolak into its jaws.
Link wasted no more time. Steeling himself against his aching head, he felt for the comforting touch of the hilt of his sword. Drawing the weapon, he held it in both hands above the Dragon's neck, the jade blade in sharp contrast to the swirling murkiness. The serpent snapped its head around. Link froze, shrinking back from the whirlpool of darkness in the beast's eyes, reminding him faintly of the Demon Riders. Zelda pushed at him with her mind, shutting his fear away.
He raised the blade, focusing on the sharp tip and looking down at the rough, aged skin below. His mind raced ahead, wondering exactly how the death of the Dragon would aid his apprentice. It could be, he mused, that the creature's demise would open up a new path like in his many experiences with dungeons such as this. He plunged the sword down. At the very last moment, a flash caught his eye and a spinning dagger rammed into his weapon, the force making him lose his balance. Link found himself upside down, hanging onto the Dragon's neck by his legs.
The world swam beneath him, the people below insect-like in their scurrying. Link tried to reach for Zelda, but she was distracted and he felt her as she weaved in and out between the Dragon's clawed feet, sending up arrows into the creature's thick hide. Something nudged at him, making him wonder briefly about the dagger that had toppled him. He could have sworn that Zayna had a similar weapon herself.
There was no time to ponder though as the sharp jerks of the Dragon tugged Link from side to side. His heart swelled as the serpent swooped again, bringing the Hero's head far too close to the ground below. His hookshot hung uselessly beneath him, banging against the Dragon's skin as the creature moved for another attack. The serpent had to be slain, regardless of his well being and he kicked at it with his heel, hoping to release his hidden dagger that he was planning to use against the Dead had they taken his weapons again. It was foolish, he realised, to believe that his small blade could harm the creature in any way, but he had to try.
Frustration gnawed at him as the heel of his boot stayed firmly in place. He relaxed, letting his mind try to reach another solution.
Realising that if he hung in his position for too long he would make himself ill, Link let his fingers curl around the taut chain of his hookshot, still wrapped tightly around the creature's neck. He let his legs swing free and he hung by the chain, his feet now kicking at the air.
Relief flooded through him. This felt a lot better than before. He was still on the verge of death, he mused dryly, but at least now he was the right way up.
The Dragon threw back its head and roared, the vibration running through Link's arms. It swung its massive bulk around, tugging the hookshot's spike free from the wall that it had been embedded in. The Hero of Time barely had a moment to acknowledge the action before the chain started to unwrap like a thread from a wooden spool. He plummeted to the ground; the grey stone of the floor rushing up to meet him.
Something rammed into him before he hit, the impact knocking the wind out of him. His shoulder scuffed the floor, sending shooting pains up his arm and neck. He rolled along the ground, still entwined with whatever had struck him. Looking up, Link caught the glow of purple eyes, before Chizan's face came clearly into view. They sat up, out of breath, but still managing to grin at one another. Link felt a little sore from the rescue, but was relieved nonetheless. With a press of a button, the hookshot's chain snaked itself back into its home with a whirr.
The Hero of Time moved to speak, the gratitude in his heart wanting to form on his tongue, when a sudden cry rang out. Chizan froze, his head spinning around, as Link recognised Tessa's panicked voice. They sprung to their feet, just in time to see the Dragon's tail wrap itself around Zayna and Tessa. Milledra was there too and she found herself an unwilling companion to their two friends. Zelda had ducked just in time, rolling to safety. Her eyes looked up, swimming with fear, as she waited for Link and the Prince to run up to her.
Two others joined her side too, a Morolak man and a Freelander woman that Link did not recognise. Zelda got to her feet, as the air shook above them. Unfurling black, leathery wings, the Dragon began flapping, screaming with satisfaction as it rose.
Link felt the thought form in his mind just as Zelda spoke the words.
"Wherever it is taking Zayna, we have to go too," she said in a grim tone.
"But of course," Chizan said with a grin.
Zelda turned to her other two companions. "This isn't your battle. You don't have to join us."
"We would aid you," the woman replied as the Morolak nodded.
"You've helped enough," Zelda said with a smile. "Live your lives now. Stay true to what I judged."
Link remained silent, not wishing to interfere in something that was not his concern. He knew that his wife would tell him about it later. A sense of urgency bit at him as he thought the words. If there was a later. He felt a stirring in his soul as Zelda acknowledged his concerns. A small shape darted from the shadows, slipping between their feet, before scampering up Link's back to perch itself on his shoulder. The shape was carrying his sword.
"Chitz," Link said with a laugh, gratefully taking his weapon from the Imp's tiny hands.
"Haha," Chitz replied. "You didn't think I'd let you go fight with just the Freelander to help, did you? Haha. I didn't think you were that stupid!"
"Let us go," Chizan said, irritation lacing his voice. "The serpent leaves."
They ran as Zelda's companions watched them. Reluctantly they nodded at the Queen, quickly giving her their thanks for her help.
Milledra screamed from within the Dragon's grip and Link smiled as he heard Zayna tell the Queen the Dead to silence herself in a sharp voice. The beast had reached the ceiling now, but its feet and tail were still within their reach. With a glance to his wife and the Prince, Link felt his heart strengthen, glad that he was with such company. They all knew what to do without having to say a word. He swallowed away the taste of unease he felt at the prospect at having to ride the Dragon again.
They leapt, their nails digging into the Dragon's skin as their hands caught hold on to its tail. With a final roar, the serpent pushed upwards, tearing through the roof of the temple in a cloud of dust and rock that rained down on the remaining members of the Dead. The cold wind stung their skin and scattered their hair as they held on. The Dragon curled slowly into the sky, like the rising of a dark sun. It paused for an instant, throwing back its head to let loose a scream that chilled all that heard it and throwing a column of flame into the air. It then banked sharply to one side, its wings creaking with the effort. Catching itself on the wind, the serpent turned towards its intended target and flew as the six that clung on were rocked from side to side.
*
Despite her husband's attempts to soothe her, Zelda was terrified. It did not help that she could also fear his too, like a tiny vibration in the corner of his heart. He kept it well hidden, but she knew it was there, though she was heartened by the strength she felt within him as he struggled to control it. It was only natural that they would be scared.
Keeping her head low and gripping onto the Dragon's tail until she split the hardened skin, Zelda had to fight to catch her breath, a combination of the intense speed and her rising awe making it difficult to breathe. The wind swept against her, chilling her face and making her cloak flap violently. The world below spun past her at a dizzying pace, green seas, golden-brown deserts, enclaves of tiny huts and a myriad of other sights melting in and out of her vision before she had a chance to really focus on them.
She felt something fall away from one of the pouches of her tunic. A flash of gold winked at her, and Zelda realised that she had just lost the golden star-shaped pendant that the Morolak Duchess had given her so long ago. It was for her safe passage in the Morolak Kingdom. Now she had a Dragon to do that, whether she wanted it to or not. Regret tugged at her as she remembered how eager Toriya had been to show Zelda the beauty of her land. She wondered where the Morolak lady was now, but shook the thoughts way, needing to concentrate on more pressing matters.
It was an effort for her just to turn her head, but she managed it. She searched Zayna out and when her eyes found her, the Queen of Hyrule almost let go from fright. Link's apprentice had managed to squeeze herself out from the Dragon's grip, holding onto the tail with her hands, just like the three of them. Zelda saw that Tessa, her face contorted in fear, was pulling herself out too, though Zayna had not noticed.
Zelda searched her old Advisor's face, noticing the haunted look that laid there. Their eyes locked and Zelda felt a tremor of alarm within. Something was terribly wrong. Zayna gazed back impassively, though her eyes had the iron look of determination about them. She was intending something, but the Queen could not place exactly what.
The heat of the sun increased and the Dragon swooped down towards a tiny mist-covered island. Zelda swallowed, knowing exactly what the island was, despite never having seen it before. She wondered why the creature was taking them there, and felt Link's confusion as he pondered over that very same notion. A glimmer of movement made Zelda turn her head back, and her mouth fell open as she saw Zayna struggling to keep her balance as she crouched, ready to jump.
Their eyes met again, and this time the apprentice shot her a warning in her stare.
"I will set things right, Your Highness," Zayna called, her words sounding weak in the wind. "You'll see. Everything will be alright in the end."
Confusion and fear fought for dominance in Zelda's mind as Zayna's face, a mix of hope and crazed desperation etched therein, burned itself into her consciousness. Zelda wanted to reach out, to cry for her to stop, but could not find the strength. The landscape blurred beneath them, but she felt the Dragon shift in speed. The trees came into focus as they slowed and then, suddenly, there it was.
The Gate stood with an almost regal air, a large crowd gathered at its base. All eyes turned towards the primeval construction and Zelda shared the sense of foreboding that she could taste in Link's thoughts. A figure stood at the top of the Gate, crimson robes billowing in the wind and she knew it to be Chalance Vance.
There was little time to waste. Whatever Zayna was planning was clearly wrong. Zelda pulled herself across the Dragon's skin, the revulsion rising within her as the cracked skin peeled off with her every motion. Her face tight while she focused on her old friend, she desperately fought against the push of the wind as they neared the Gate.
It was too late. Zayna saw her and Zelda saw the spark of alarm in her eyes. The Dragon slowed until the wind dropped to a breeze, slowly curving over the top of the Gate. Link's apprentice fixed her with a stare, then calmly let her hands free of the serpent.
"I will set things right," she whispered as she fell away.
"No!" Zelda reached forward in a useless gesture, feeling the tide of despair rising in her heart.
In an instant, the wind shifted again and Zelda felt the Triforce symbol on her hand tingle. Her puzzlement turned to shock as a gust caught Tessa and threw her off the creature, letting her fall in a spin directly behind Zayna.
Zelda heard Chizan's cry of fear, but there was no time to for her to respond to it. The Dragon gained speed once more, and it straightened itself like an arrow as it screamed in towards the ground. Zelda felt a surge of love from Link and she responded in kind, both of them hoping to shield the other from pain as they realised what was about to happen.
The Queen of Hyrule grit her teeth and shut her eyes tight as the Dragon ploughed into the earth.
*
"Your friends are dead," Chalance Vance said quietly, watching the dust settle from the Dragon's impact. He felt a thrill of eagerness tremble through his body, and he could taste his triumph in his mouth. The light faded as the sun began to set and the sorcerer threw a glance down at his liege, swallowing as he saw the large throng of armed soldiers standing ready. The King nodded up at him and Vance had to keep him self from laughing. They had decided that the sorcerer should wait atop the Gate, so that he could release the Key's blood while Cyle charged into the Sacred Realm from below. Vance snorted at the King's stupidity. Cyle may have thought he had shown some intelligence by tricking the dim-witted Islanders, but Chalance Vance had never been remotely worried. He would have just turned the power of his staff onto them as soon as they had led them to the Gate. Soon, he would be rid of the fool and soon he would be rid of the entire Terrestrial Realm. He felt the tingle of disgust under his skin – how had he managed to stay in this unclean place for so long?
He turned away from the mass of men below, reaching for his belt as he hoped to see the terror on the Key's face when he brought forth his silver, curved dagger. The hilt was encrusted with pearls and it had lain unused, waiting for this very moment. The sight that greeted him made him step back in surprise.
Zayna stood above the hole, one arm bare, while her free hand gripped a blade of her own. Fear danced on her face, but her eyes burned with resolve. The farmgirl lay crouching behind her, whimpering as events caught up to her.
The Key looked quickly from side to side, pale red-gold sunlight illuminating her face as she studied her surroundings. "I did not expect the Gate to be as mundane as this," she said.
Vance ignored her words. His eyes narrowed and he began to pace, not entirely sure of the Key's intent. He had to be careful. Haste at this critical juncture could lead to disaster. He watched her as he felt the breeze tug at his robe. "What trickery is this?" he asked in a cautious voice.
"No trickery, Vance," she replied with a growl. "I've decided that neither you nor the King deserve to be Joined." She paused and the sorcerer guessed what was coming next. "I've decided that that honour belongs to me alone."
Chalance Vance's lips curled with a mixture of amusement and anger. At any other time, watching a person rot their own soul through their own actions would have been delicious, but not now. Not when he was so close. Still. He could not help but let his curiosity goad him on.
"And how did you come to this conclusion?" he said, taking a step towards her. She did not notice.
"Well," she said, her voice raw. There was still a conflict on her face, a hesitation that betrayed the fact that she was not entirely certain about her actions. "It seems to me that this nightmare will only end if you get what you want and if I die." She swallowed, sniffing away tears that had just come to her eyes, unbidden. "I would very much like to keep living. I think the only way I could do that is by truly fulfilling my purpose. Yes, I'm the Key. And I will be Joined. And when I am, I'll bring all my friends back. I'll bring my family back." Her voice grew as the emotion took her. Vance gripped his staff. "And I'll make sure creatures like you and Cyle will cease to exist."
"Zayna, don't talk this way," the farmgirl moaned in a quiet voice.
"Quiet!" the Key snapped, turning her eyes away from Vance from in an instant. The sorcerer grinned, raising his staff and watching the orb perched atop it begin to glow.
She turned back to him, her knife resting against the trembling folds of skin on her arm. "You hear me, Vance?" she said as her breath grew shallow. "The world will never see the likes of you again." She flipped the blade up and pulled back her arm. "Because before I open the Gate, you're going to die!"
She threw the knife and it whirled through the air in a silvery blur. Vance stood, unmoved, thrusting the staff forward as a liquid flash of energy licked out from within it, swallowing the blade before it could reach him.
"I beg to differ," he snarled with a grin.
Zayna screamed in rage and leapt at him, her eyes wild with an insane gleam. He stepped out of her path and brought the staff down on her back with a crack. Somewhere behind him he heard the farmgirl cry out, but he paid her no heed. Zayna tried to rise, her muscles tensing as she readied herself for another attack. A crackle of energy from his staff arched into her back and knocked the fight out of her.
Dragging the Key by her hair, Vance pulled her over to the hole. He peered in, seeing nothing but darkness, and smelling nothing but stale air. Letting go of his staff, he pulled his dagger free. He knew it only took a small amount of blood to open the Gate, but now that he knew of Zayna's intentions he had decided to drain her pathetic life out over the hole.
"You're a fool, woman," he said as she tried to struggle under his grasp. The staff trembled on the floor as if it were being battered by the wind as he drew his power from it. She tried to twist her body, but he held on tight, positioning her head over the hole. "You don't deserve the power of the Joining. Neither does the King." He intended to prolong the agony, so he drew the blade across the woman's forehead. He would get to her neck soon enough. "Only I deserve to be Joined. Only I."
The blood rippled free and slowly poured down her face as the Key began to weep. Vance watched, mesmerised, as one drop curved its way down to her chin and hung there, waiting to fall. The rest of the world faded from his consciousness and his mouth dried in anticipation.
A knot of movement made him break his concentration and he felt his jaw sparkle with pain as the farmgirl jumped at him, her nails tearing at his skin. With an animal like growl of anger, he flung his elbow up, cracking it into her face. She slumped to the ground, blood oozing from her mouth.
Tired of the distractions, Chalance Vance pushed Zayna's head closer to the hole. She struggled again, but a swift knee to her back weakened her resolve. Slashing at her face with more cuts, he waited as the blood began to rain down. Slowly, slowly, the drops fell into the dark hole. He felt his heart tremble as he waited for the response. Something in his soul ached, a need that he kept long buried now digging its way up, sensing satiation.
The blood continued to fall.
Nothing happened.
Vance fell to his knees as the shock vibrated though his soul. He saw the confusion on the woman's face too, but he ignored it, jerking her head forward and squeezing her wounds, so more of her blood would drop. Still nothing happened.
His mind froze with disbelief. This could not be happening. Not like this. Not when he had been so close. He could vaguely hear Cyle calling up at him, confusion lining his voice. Chalance Vance ignored him and, for one of the few times in his life, he felt tears come to his eyes. He had been so certain. How could it have all gone so wrong?
Zayna looked up at him, red rivers lining her face. Quietly at first, but slowly growing in confidence, she began to laugh. He felt her body sag with relief and anger welled up inside of him, contorting his face. She laughed even harder at this, and Vance would have struck her, but despair stilled his hand. What would be the point now?
He let her go and she rolled away. Vance watched as the pool of blood continued to drip into the hole. Another rivulet of crimson liquid joined it, though he did not recognise it. This blood was darker, and it cut through Zayna's like a knife, but he did not care anymore. It was all the same to him.
A haze fell over his eyes and defeat made his face grow hard. He barely noticed the drop of darker blood as it hung at the edge of the hole, trembling, before falling into the deep.
The Gate shuddered.
Vance's mouth fell open and his eyes widened in shock once again.
More of the dark blood fell. The Gate started to rock with violent jerks. He heard Cyle's voice cry with triumph. Realisation stung Vance, shaking him awake from his reverie. He traced the path of the darker blood back to its source.
The farmgirl.
The farmgirl was the Key.