Disclaimer: I want to say that I own it, but because I value the money that I have in my bank account and don't want it sued off me, I am not going to say that I own Zelda. Cause that would be lying. And my Mummy told me that nice girls don't lie.
A.N: I finally know how I'm going to finish this story. However, I am expecting loads of reviews following this chapter because I surprised even myself with the way I ended this installation. *gulp*
Chapter 8: Cold
Cordelia sat in a chair beside her granddaughter's bed, watching the sleeping child with a tender vigilance. She reached out with a slender hand to reposition the blankets and caressed the girl's cheek softly, just softly enough so as not to be noticed. Orla sighed softly in her sleep and wriggled a little under the blankets, lying on her side and hugging the pillow against her body.
Why did you give up on all of this?
The question was one that the former queen of Hyrule was unable to find an answer to. As she looked at the little girl, lying there wearing one of her nieces' old nightdresses, she couldn't help but wonder whether her mother had looked the same in her sleep. Cordelia smiled subconsciously at the memory of her daughter as the new baby she had tenderly tucked into bed under soft down blankets encased in silk, a tiny and perfect embodiment of the love she had felt for Harkinian. She should have loved that baby so much that she would sooner have died than be parted with her, sooner thrown away her own life before she ever intentionally hurt her. The memory of the infant Princess of Hyrule was replaced by that of the adult, the beautiful teenager she had angrily crossed paths with eight years before. The girl, no the woman, who had faced her with eyes so full of anger and hurt who had disowned her, turned her from her home on her wedding day. Cordelia knew in her heart of hearts that she should never have gone to the wedding, she should never have stood cloaked at the back of the Temple and watched as her husband walked their daughter up the aisle to the side of Olaran's son, who stole glances at her when he should have been concentrating on ancient scriptures being read by the priest, never have watched as her daughter smiled at him whenever their eyes met, never eavesdropped on the whispered 'I love yous' exchanged by the couple as they walked from the temple, arm in arm.
Yet now she sat beside the sleeping form of their child, their beloved first born, the child she had tried to stop the creation of. She was so much like Ariala that it galled her to think that this girl was one of her own descendants, but she was much more like her father, the baby Cordelia had doted upon whenever he visited, her favourite of Olaran's sons. At the same time, his child spoke like her mother, had the same deeply intelligent look in her midnight eyes, had the same serene calm to her aura that set them aside from others. As they had dined before the fire, Orla wrapped in one of Cordelia's own shawls, the pair had talked between each other, Orla politely answering her grandmother's questions and giving all the information she wanted to give and at the same time gaining what information she wanted. Cordelia noticed that the child never once asked the obvious question that many first time guests at her house asked their host.
So, do you have any family?
Cordelia sighed and raised herself from the seat. She cast an affectionate glance at the girl and then left the room quietly, closing the door softly behind her as she left. Her resolution was set, and in the morning she would put her proposal to her grandchild, the proposal that she should take up residence with her and never have to worry about facing up to whatever it was that troubling her. They would be runaways together.
******
The atillian whirled through the sky, revelling in its new found freedom with a lusty cry as it soared higher and higher into the darkness of the night. It was invisible, undetectable, save for the odd moment when one suddenly felt the grip of something cold on their person. Such was the strength of the atillian, the ability to be unseen but not to go unnoticed.
Since the creation of the Evil Realm millennia ago, atillian had begun to thrive, very rarely venturing to the surface by corrupting the form of an innocent being, thus giving them a half life. When this existence was ended, be it by sword or of natural cause, the host would disintegrate and the atillian's occupation ended as it floated away into oblivion in the form of a whisp of vapour, never to exist again. Sometimes the atillian's grip on the host's body would be so strong that the corpse would not disintegrate for some time, but ultimately that was the way the creature went. Few knew of the existence of these restless dark souls, and those that did regretted that knowledge.
For those with ill intentions, the atillian served as the perfect way for their orders to be undertaken as they were unwaveringly obedient to those with power. It was for that reason that Ganondorf manipulated the atillian's ability to possess creatures, shaping them into beasts for his purpose. Dinalfos, Lizalfos, Stalfos, all created by the Gerudo king's desire for some form of champion that might have been able to put a stop to the interference of a child possessing nothing but a child's blade and an unwaveringly courageous heart. They had tried...
And failed.
This night however, the atillian had no need to possess anything. It's task was simple: seek out Endeffera and either convince her to join the Master or destroy her if she refused. Even now the spirit could sense her power, it could feel her presence though she was many miles away. It would be easy to destroy such a physically weak thing, a thing so measly that it was hard to believe it was the key to the Evil Realm's rebirth.
With a feeling of elation, the atillian wheeled in the sky one last time before spiralling downwards towards its goal.
******
Link's anxiety grew with every stride Epona took. His unease had been unshakable since the cry of the strange shadow creature, and every second that Orla's whereabouts were unknown the grip of panic grew tighter and tighter.
Never on any of his adventures had he encountered such a creature. Even the image of it had chilled the blood in his veins, so he dreaded to think of what an encounter with the real creature might bring. His mind flew to images of the creature attacking Orla, pouncing on his daughter and tearing her limb from limb or some other horrific attack on her. He could practically hear in his mind her screaming for him to save her, the way he was supposed to. That was what he did after all, save people, and he would be damned if that task was denied of him this time.
If only he knew where she was!
Thankfully, the persistent voice in his head had stopped talking to him. It was getting beyond a joke, and had Link not believed in the existence of strange mind possessing entities then he would have been seriously questioning his sanity. Even so, he began to wish that something would speak to him, he felt an overwhelming desire for companionship at that moment, the need to hear someone telling him that he was on the right track or that Orla would be alright, it was only a matter of time until they were reunited. He wanted Zelda.
As Epona rose over the next ridge, Link's keen eyesight caught sight of a light in the distance. His gloomy thoughts left him and were replaced with optimism. A light meant a house, a house meant people and people meant the potential of someone who'd seen Orla.
"Come on Epona, just give me one more gallop and then I promise you can rest."
Epona's ears flicked in response and the mare's muscles surged forward into the required run. As the pair drew closer, Link felt a knot in his stomach tighten as he recognised the house to be the same that he'd seen in his vision.
And that shadowy being was there too.
******
Orla woke abruptly, her eyes flying wide as something inside her turned cold inexplicably. She lay still, breathing evenly and trying to use a skill that her mother had taught her. Using her mind, she sought out the presence of those in the room with her and found, as she had expected, that she was the only one there. That fact still failed to sway her uneasiness.
Something is not right.
Swiftly, she slipped from the bed and crept to the window, looking out across the moonscape. The feeling of coldness stayed with her, only getting stronger as she pushed open the shutters and stared out into the night. Everything was still, as if frozen in a portrait. The storm had long since passed and for that brief moment in time she felt as though she alone were the only person in the entire world.
But she wasn't. She could feel that, the presence of something approaching her, getting closer with every breath. It was something dark, something that meant her harm and something that she knew would soon be upon her whether she liked it or not.
And she was never alone. Not as long as the other part of her spirit was there.
Orla could feel her heart beating erratically in her chest, pounding against her ribcage like a hammer. She swallowed hard.
"Who's there?"
There was no answer, only a dry wind whispering through the bare branches of a nearby tree. Orla shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, telling herself that she was being stupid and that she shouldn't be such a chicken. She was seven years old, not some wimpy baby.
The door behind her creaked and caused the princess to spin around with a startled gasp. Cordelia stood in the doorway with a candle in her hand, dressed in a nightdress with her blonde hair braided down her back. Her brow was furrowed with lines of concern that made Orla think twice about her stupidity regarding her irrational fear.
"You sensed it too then?" Cordelia asked.
Orla nodded.
"Something's out there."
Her grandmother crossed to the child and took her hand, making no effort to hide the fear in her expression.
"Orla, you are not safe on your own. Come with me, we'll make one of the rooms light enough to keep whatever it is at bay."
"I'm not scared of the dark," Orla muttered indignantly.
"I am aware of that child, but I have long been taught that the only comfort in times of darkness is the light."
At that moment, a terrible shriek split the night air that caused the blood to run cold through both females' veins. Automatically, Cordelia pushed the child behind her and began to chant a prayer in ancient Hylian tongue, a prayer which Orla had heard once before though she couldn't remember where from.
"If you've got a light room then I wouldn't mind going there," Orla confessed.
Cordelia nodded grimly and led her granddaughter from the room, her hand tightly encasing Orla's.
"I'll not let anything harm you Orla, even if it means my life," Cordelia said with determination in her voice.
The shriek echoed again, only this time louder. The elder Hylian broke into a run, encouraging the younger to do the same.
"Make haste child!"
Orla quickened her pace, mistiming a step and tripping on the excess fabric of her nightgown. She stumbled and fell, knocking against a table and sending a bowl of flowers crashing to the ground with deafening shatter of porcelain. At that moment, a cold gust of wind gushed through the hall, blowing the heavy velvet curtains towards the door at the end of the corridor. For a moment Cordelia surveyed the scene with dismay before the same gust of wind extinguished her candle. For a moment the pair of them were blinded by the darkness until the growing feeling of cold engulfed them both to the extent of it being unbearable. Orla looked around her in a panic before her horrified gasp echoed around the silent hall.
Hovering before them was a shadowy form, very faint but undeniably present. It was a murky purple-grey colour, smoky in substance and translucent all over with the exception of leathery black double wings sprouting from what must have been its back. Its eyes were like slivers of red-hot fire, burning red at the edges and fading to white in the centre. It had no nose, no ears, only these intense eyes and a pair of lips so thin and pale that they almost faded into the nothingness of its face. These lips moved now, speaking in a voice that was a dry as the wind that had rushed through the tree.
"Endeffera."
Cordelia shrank back against the wall, gripping onto the curtain beside her with a white knuckled grasp. Orla remained on the floor, rooted to the spot and staring in disbelief at the creature before her.
"Orla, get away from it!"
Orla heard Cordelia's voice, but made no action upon her command. The creature spoke again, more pointedly and with impatience.
"Endeffera."
It means us Orla. Whatever it offers us, decline. It is an agent of the one we must protect this world from.
The Hylian had no intention of accepting anything this horrific being offered her. She fixed her eyes on its face and spoke, swallowing her fear and adopting her royal tone of voice.
"What is your desire?"
The thing looked pleased and came closer to her. She felt colder instantly.
"The Master wishes Endeffera to join him."
Never.
"And if I decline his offer?" Orla asked, feeling her courage return to her.
"Then the servant destroys Endeffera."
Orla stood up, her hands trembling with cold and fear but her face fixed in a mask of confidence.
"Tell your Master that Endeffera will do nothing without Orla's consent, and Orla says that there's no way they're joining him."
Whilst she spoke, she began to charge up an energy orb in her hands. As her statement closed, the atillian's face contorted into a snarling expression of fury and the spirit grabbed the child through a movement so unnaturally quick that no-one cold have escaped it. Orla struggled to break free of its grasp, but was unable to move. She tried to open her mouth to scream in terror, but no sound came out, nor did her mouth move. The atillian had her paralysed.
It held onto her shoulders and fixed its gaze on her. Slowly, it's mouth opened and it breathed deeply, and with its intake of breath Orla felt her limbs growing heavier and heavier until she felt she was unable to support her weight anymore. She was unaware what was happening to her.
She was unaware that the atillian sucking her life from her.
*****
Link pushed the heavy front door open and darted through it, his sword drawn and anger blazing in his eyes.
If Orla's here, if that thing is after her, then nothing's going to stand in my way.
Breaking and entering, he reasoned, would be acceptable if one believed that the actions were in the best intentions of the house's occupants. And if everyone was asleep, then no-one would see him. He could just imagine it, the owners of the house waking up in a daze to see the Prince of Hyrule asking if they'd seen his daughter.
"Orla, get away from it!"
Link did a double take as he heard a voice crying a familiar name hoarsely and in a great amount of fear.
"Orla!" he cried and ran towards the stairs in pursuit of the voice.
He didn't stop running, even as he felt his blood run cold. The feeling of coldness was unshakable now, everything in the house seemed to be made of ice. Link hadn't felt such a chill since the Snowtop Temple, and even then that chill had been escapable with constant movement. This temperature drop was inescapable.
A door loomed before him at the top of the stairs, and something inside his head told him that beyond this barricade he would find what he was looking for. He flung the door open with a thud and wasted no time in notching a Light Arrow in his bow. An even colder flush than the temperature in the house ran through the man as he caught sight of the shadow creature with its grip on a little girl's shoulders.
His little girl's shoulders.
He released the arrow and watched it pierce the creature through the eyes with a look of grim hatred on his face. There was no satisfaction in his expression as he watched the light consume the creature, nor was there a sense of victory. All there was present in him was a feeling of dread.
Without the atillian to hold her upright, Orla slumped forward and toppled to the ground, soundless and with no move to right herself. Cordelia flew to the child and caught her before she hit the floor, a shocked gasp escaping from her lips. She put her head against Orla's chest, the she put her fingers to the child's wrist before she moved to her neck. Link blinked in recognition of this woman before flying to his daughter's side and grabbing her from the grasp of her grandmother. His eyes widened at the sight of her ashen face and her wide, staring eyes.
"No..."
"There is no pulse-"
"No." Link said firmly, shaking his head. "Orla, Orla snap out of it. Come on baby, it's Daddy, please..."
Cordelia shook her head and did not attempt to hide her tears.
"It's over. Her heart's stopped."
"No!" Link yelled, pulling Orla into a sitting position, shaking her softly, brushing her hair away from her face. "Come on sweetheart, wake up. Wake up! Please!"
Cordelia's tears grew more constant as Link's efforts died. He brushed his daughter's face softly with his fingertips, a sombre look of disbelief on his face. With one final pass of his hand, he closed Orla's eyes and then drew her body against his in a hug, rocking her softly the way he had all those years ago when as a tiny baby she had woken in the night, crying for him or Zelda to comfort her, the way he had when she had fallen over and cut her knee on the stairs.
The whole house was woken as the heart wrenching, anguished cry of a grief stricken father echoed through the still night air.
Orla was dead.
to be continued...
